by Mike DiCerto
"Of course,” Caffrey agreed.
"We can stop at Bremure for suppliesss. We have no time!” Plooky barked.
"Actually, my furry loves,” Angie chimed in, “Humans—even artificial ones—are not as adaptable nor as rugged as Crebbledogs. Let's allow the whining pansiebears to pack some of their cherished nonessentials."
The two Crebbledogs were panting as Angie's tickle stroked all the right zones.
"Fine,” Plooky moaned, “but hurry!"
"I'll keep an eye on them, my be-coated dream muffins."
Caffrey rose to his feet, and Poe 33 started to follow but found the Sunpopper X-20 in his way.
"I'm fine, Poe. I can pack alone."
Caffrey headed into his bedroom; and Xilpat followed, remaining in the doorway between the two rooms. Poe 33 sat back down and began whistling a soft tune.
"Ssstop whistling, Robotsss!"
"If you don't mind, I would prefer to continue. Keeps my circuits running with more blissful waveforms,” Poe 33 pleaded, picking up his tune where he had been interrupted.
"It rubsss my waveforms the wrong way. Ssstop or I will fry the circuitsss in yer belly like a grilled cherinka muffin."
Poe's whistling did not merely continue; the pitch increased tenfold and the volume twenty. Xilpat and Plooky reacted with deadly gazes, accented by deep-throated growls and dripping drool from the tips of their upper fangs. Another sound, set to the proper pitch and decibel settings to most annoy a pair of Crebbledog ears, shrieked from Poe 33's mouth. Xilpat and Plooky reacted in unison, dropping their weapons and throwing their paws to their much-offended organs.
From beneath the sofa Yin dashed, the little pooch privy to the android's plan from the coded message of Poe 33's innocent whistling. In his mouth was Caffrey's Willy. The loyal Bopple charged under Xilpat's legs and into the bedroom.
However, Crebbledogs are not known for lack of dexterity. Before Caffrey was able to take hold of the blaster, Xilpat and Plooky were already re-armed and diving behind the sofa for cover. Caffrey fired a strand of purple string, impacting a sofa pillow that vanished from existence—as tended to happen when the weapon was set for BV (Bon Voyage) mode.
"The roof! The roof, Yin!” he shouted.
Yin yipped and vaulted for the window, scrambling over the flowerpots, out and up the fire escape. Xilpat went after him. Poe 33 and Caffrey ran out the front door.
Caffrey fired a shot up the staircase, sending a chunk of the banister into another place in space and time2. Plooky dove to the ground and returned a rebuttal shot between his legs that did nothing more than add a simmering hole to an already cracked and filthy wall.
The light switch on the wall beside the blaster hole made Caffrey smile. His hunter instincts, married with his vast knowledge of Milky Way fauna, gave birth to a simple but rather brilliant idea.
Nomenclature aside, Crebbledogs were not of the canine genus but were, in fact, part of a line known as Seplichens. Cursed with extremely photosensitive eyes, the group included the pomifish, Delkinods and the giant and deadly Babrical squirrel. Caffrey rapidly entered a sequence of numbers on the grip of his weapon, and its glow changed from soft red to a deep, almost black, purple. He raised the weapon in his right hand and let his left drift toward the light switch.
"You're cornered, Quark!” Plooky yelled
Caffrey pulled the trigger and night fell—literally. A shroud of anti-photonic matter (APM) rendered any and all photons dancing about the immediate area nothing but ashes of coal dust. The Crebbledog grunted in confusion, firing his weapon. Not even the high-current bolt could ignite a flicker of light amidst the powerful APM.
"I'm blind!” wailed the Crebbledog.
"Not yet, mutt!"
The black shroud began to dissipate, and the darkness receded. Caffrey flicked the switch, turning on the emergency halogen light at the top of the landing.
The Crebbledog dropped his weapon and yelped helplessly, throwing his paws over his stunned eyes. Caffrey jumped up and reset his weapon as he climbed the steps. A purple spaghetti strand was fired, and Plooky vanished from the current reality on a free trip into the random mix of fate's fickle stew of infinite universal choices.
The smell of burning metal drifted to Caffrey's nostrils. Poe 33 had melted the entire lock, along with the surrounding metal of the roof exit door. A rush of air blew through the resulting hole. It was oddly quiet outside.
"Shall I open the door?” whispered Poe 33.
"In a second,” Caffrey instructed, kneeling down and peering through the hole. The sight of The Moby Dick waiting patiently outside sent a chill up his back.
"It's too quiet out there. Something's up. Can you sense anything, Poe?"
"Shall I perform a stealth scan on the surface area of the roof?"
"No, Poe. Why don't you perform the role of the Clown in Act Three of Twelfth Night?” Caffrey spat, growing disgusted by the android's questioning of the obvious.
"'No such matter, sir. I do live by the church; for I do live at my house, and my house doth stand by the church,'” Poe recited.
Caffrey stared at him for a moment in silence, uncomprehending.
"Will you perform the role of Viola? If so, it is your cue,” suggested Poe.
Caffrey slapped the android's shoulder.
"Scan the frigging roof!"
"Of course."
A beam of barely visible white light shot from the midsection of the android and through the hole in the door. It made a circular motion and just as quickly disappeared.
"And?” Caffrey was growing antsy.
"Shall I present the roof's contents in any particular order? Alphabetically, by size or by level of danger?"
Caffrey rubbed his temples and was about to slug the android when a burst of static popped at his ears.
"Your dog is hiding in the landing peg well. Starboard aft,” Angie advised.
Caffrey scowled then looked to Poe 33 for confirmation.
"Yin is where the Revenant explained. Starboard aft landing peg well. The Crebbledog is hiding behind a large skylight."
Caffrey nodded and kicked the door open. The echo of the action dissipated, and all went silent again.
"Poe, I need you to use that whistling sound again. Distract the mutt so I—"
"Don't waste your time. He's not that stupid. He's wearing earplugs."
"You deserting to the enemy, Angie-girl?"
"Just don't want to make it too easy for Xilpy. He enjoys a challenge, and I love it when he wins. He gets soooo sexy."
"Poe, remind me to barf when we board the ship."
"Yes, sir. Duly noted. I have a superior idea, Quark Caffrey. Just run to the craft after exactly 8.325 seconds."
Caffrey readied himself, unsure what was coming in the very short time he had to act. Poe 33 began whistling a series of high-pitched musical notes as a beam of barely-visible blue light shot through the doorway and into the craft via the windshield.
"You have 2.6434 seconds left, Quarky,” Angie reported.
"I'm counting,” snapped Caffrey.
The designated time elapsed, and Poe 33 let out a whistle. Yin yipped, and an explosion of psychedelic neon spilled onto the roof like water from a busted dam. A horrid growl sounded.
Caffrey couldn't believe his eyes. The entire starboard side of the craft was aglow with a huge neon sign that read Spudlump Interstellar Funeral and Corpse Transport.
"Run, Caffrey!” Angie yelled, with a sincere note of concern.
Caffrey ran to the ship as its front port slid open, almost running over Yin in the process. They both managed to make it up the walkway and into the craft. Poe 33 followed as Xilpat lay sprawled on the roof covering his eyes. The port slid closed.
Caffrey stared at the ship's interior with his mouth agape. The place was a mess. Empty food containers, shed fur and scattered piles of dried Crebbledog poop decorated the once-sparkling interior.
"Mother of my mother's mother,” he moaned, aghast.
"Not yet, Yin. I have to clean up the roof first.” Caffrey turned and opened the port again.
"Caffrey, please!” Angie pleaded.
"Sorry, girl. Your boyfriend is getting flushed down the cosmic toilet!"
Caffrey was livid, to say the least. Having prided himself on being an unabashed pacifist, he felt the ugly feelings of excessive pride and vengefulness poisoning his veins like moonshine. He checked Willy's power level and stepped out.
Xilpat was back on his feet but still covering his sensitive eyes from the glare of The Moby Dick's advert. Caffrey raised the weapon and set up a very clear shot. Too clear. Too easy. Too obviously against every tenet of his morality.
He was about to turn and race back to the craft when a bolt of orange energy whizzed past his head and struck Xilpat. The confused Crebbledog dissolved into a whirlpool of particles and was gone. Caffrey turned to see Yin holding a small smoking weapon in the entryway of The Moby Dick.
"Are you done wasting time, my master?” Yin scowled. “Let's get out of here!"
They raced back into the craft.
"Shall I take the controls, my love?” Angie asked.
"Pardon me, but who sold out who?” Caffrey snapped.
"Relax, Quark Caffrey, she is trustworthy,” Yin assured him.
Caffrey chuckled cynically.
"Oh, Caffrey, my love. Do you really think I would ever do anything to hurt you? I was playing along with those two filthy, disgusting creatures. I was the one who suckered them into coming to get you. I met Poe 33 on Uglipore where he was searching for you. I overheard his conversation and his need to find the bloodline of Greppledick Quark."
"She speaks the truth, Quark,” Poe 33 confirmed. “Although my extraordinary sensory abilities would have inevitably found you, Angie did lessen the time factor."
A wave of tingling audio waves rode up his leg. He fought his own smile.
"Despite the fact you sold me like some six-legged Yeplicorean whore, I will always love you."
"You were programmed to."
"Exactly. The only thing better than unconditional love is hard-wired love."
"Let's hit the heavens."
The Moby Dick's engine revved, and the craft lifted off the roof, vanishing quickly beyond the heavy clouds.
CHAPTER SIX
2,000 LIGHT YEARS FROM HOME
Sun turnin’ ‘round with graceful motion.
We're setting off with soft explosion.
Bound for a star with fiery oceans.
The Rolling Stones
The Earth was a glowing ball of milk and blueberry cream as Caffrey watched her spin, rotating for perhaps the 1.8 trillionth time since her birth. Day was dawning over Europe and a wicked thunderstorm flashed over the Atlantic.
"Co-ordinates set for Bremure,” Angie announced. “We can get the ship cleaned."
"Quark Caffrey,” Poe 33 called as he approached, “is now a good time?"
Caffrey eyed the android obliquely. “For...?"
"For you to regurgitate your stomach contents. You asked me to remind you once we boarded the craft."
Caffrey smiled and gave Poe a pat to his shoulder. He looked at the Earth dancing her eternal dance with her lunar partner in the brilliant spotlight of the sun.
"I apologize for calling her a dump, Caffrey,” said Angie softly. “She is a beauty."
"Yes, Angie. She and the creatures that scamper over her are everything beautiful, everything ugly and everything in between,” Caffrey agreed, his face growing sad. “And four of my favorites are no longer there."
Poe 33 spoke up. “We will find your mates. I am sure they are safe. Much more importantly, we must find my Master, or you will find yourself in a universe that doesn't quite appreciate your music."
"I wish I understood my role in this little soap opera."
"I don't fully understand, either. But it is awful. I've seen a dozen worlds just vanish from existence because the lifeforms practiced some sort of musical love."
"We don't believe they've actually vanished for good,” Yin interjected. “We believe the leader of O.D.O.R, a horrid creature named Nefarious Wretch, is snatching the worlds into his dimension, where they will be recreated music-free."
Caffrey rolled his eyes. “Nefarious Wretch?"
"Lame, isn't it? But what else can you expect from a being for whom music is the source of his infinite anger and disgust?” Yin did little to mask his contempt.
"He is the perfected heirophant of disharmony,” Poe 33 added.
Caffrey plopped down on the plush sofa, matted with Crebbledog fur, and closed his eyes.
"Angie—Bezzie, please."
"I'm sorry, my dimple cream. Plooky and Xilpat despised Bezzie. They've loaded the refreshment tanks with Xzrog. But I have good news. I managed to upload the entire history of Rock and Roll music into the database!"
"Angie, I love you. Pink Floyd. And a glass of Xzrog."
"But you despise Xzrog!"
"I despise the current state of my brain. I need it altered. Quickly."
Caffrey was disgusted with the fur and feces that surrounded him and tried desperately to ignore it. As the first track of Dark Side of the Moon began, a glass of the murky gray liquid appeared before him. He took a slug and his eyes bugged as the mushroom cloud erupted deep within his brain. A wide and goofy expression lifted his head to his neck's full extension. He chuckled.
"Well, he'll be useless for the next five hours,” Yin noted.
"I'm fine, my silly little talking poochie-woochie,” Caffrey promised with another giggle. “Wake me up when we land."
"Yes, my fruity soap,” Angie sighed.
* * * *
Bremure was one of the busiest stops for interstellar cargo craft in the Sol System. It fell into Galixerate legal problems when the Ignorance-Is-Bliss laws became an issue with the start of the space programs of the original planet Earth. Lest it be discovered too soon by the burgeoning but restricted intellects of the watery, type-O world, most of its facilities were moved to Pluto's moon, Charon, to avoid discovery.
A labor problem between management and a group of workers from the Sirius System world of Trenspit (known as Grays) erupted. The Grays threatened to reveal the base to the residents of Earth by buzzing isolated areas of the planet in small craft as a protest against poor working conditions. It took the death of three Grays, whose craft crashed in a remote desert town called Roswell, to force a settlement. The labor war was over, but the UFO craze was set in motion on post-World War II Earth.
The Moby Dick received clearance to land after Angie convinced the control tower that they were a meteorological team on their way to Planet Blooth1. Caffrey, who slept through the entire landing, was finally awakened by Yin, who jumped onto his master's lap and proceeded to lick his face. Caffrey smiled and slowly opened his eyes, grabbing Yin by the scruff on each side of his face and kissing his nose.
"Thank you, Quark. But can we commence with the lovemaking later? We really should spend as little time dawdling as possible."
The smile of contentment fell from Caffrey's face. It had been a real blow to some sector of the Oedipal portion of his psyche when Yin revealed his ability to speak. Trying to control the flush of blood racing up his neck, he stood and made his way out of the ship. Poe 33 and Yin followed.
* * * *
Three hours had passed; and The Moby Dick was once again sparkling, as if just out of the showroom. Yin, who was bathed, blow-dried and fluffed, look twice his normal size as he read and reread a series of coordinates on the navigation screens. Poe 33, having activated his self-cleaning system, gleamed like a psychedelic star field under the colorful interior lights.
Angie, who had no form to primp, floated around the cabin like a bored breeze blowing through a meadow on a lazy summer day.
Caffrey entered the craft and loaded the last carton of Polyvegicaroni—a staple of interstellar trave
l, it can be formed into an endless array of relatively tasty food forms—into the FoodPrepper unit. The liquid tanks were also reloaded with fresh water and Bezzie.
"Caffrey,” Yin said, reading off the monitor, “it appears the ship containing your band-mates was last tracked entering the Torikis System."
"Then that's we were going."
"As we planned. It's the same system where Regal 9 revolves. Where Poe 33 and the L'Orange were last together."
Caffrey turned and queried the android. “You have no memory of what happened?"
Poe 33 appeared baffled by the question. “I have no clue what you mean.” Once again, his illumination went dark. In seconds he came back to life.
"I had just finished the Uniting Ceremony. I was officially christened Portsmith of the Great Wise One by Queen Kinkskin,” he recalled with his usual contemplative, alluring vocals. This time, a soft bossanova beat underscored his story. “I had spent twenty years completing the Rendavene, the solo journey taken by every Portsmith prior to the Uniting. I traveled across the galaxy meditating, learning, infusing my circuits with sights. With sounds. Tastes. Smells. Feels. All the other sensory methods of the thousands of civilizations that live in the spinning disk you call the Milky Way. I learned their languages, customs, idiosyncrasies. I partook in grand games of skill. Fought in battles of unimaginable violence. Cared for the poor. Comforted the destitute. Made love to stunningly beautiful beings of every shape and size in ways your simple mind could never ponder."
Caffrey sucked his teeth but decided to not compare war stories with the android. “To Regal 9 it is. Set the way, Angie-girl. And let's hear The Who ... something off Quadrophenia, if you would."
"Yes, my creamy pinball wizard,” she sighed.
"I think we need to have that android's systems checked,” Caffrey whispered to Yin.
The Frezenese Bopple agreed with a nod as The Moby Dick made its way back into space, and “I've Had Enough” filled the cockpit. Caffrey smiled and ran a slow, contented gaze around his craft. The stench of Crebbledog had been skillfully removed, and the fresh scent of a woodland meadow in spring wafted to his nostrils.
* * * *
The Moby Dick was cruising at a comfortable clip, and Caffrey's feet were up as he played air drums along with Keith Moon. Yin disrupted his bliss.
