SFSTORY: HMS Golden Lance #20 - My Weasel Friday

The cast of characters...

Time Agent 357 - Born of a race of near-immortal beings who tend to live for hundreds of thousands of years until they die of boredom or stupidity, 357 is actually a genetic throwback who is only expected to live a mere thousand years or so. His only goal in life is to retire.

Omegas - A very nearly all-powerful, almost omnipotent being of unknown origin, Omegas has served the forces of Good, Evil, and (mostly) himself. This god-like alien, or alien-like god, could very well set himself up as supreme ruler of all of Creation, if only he could avoid getting himself into stupid situations that result in his powers being drained.

Doctor Bing Von Spleen - The Galaxy's foremost Spamological Engineer (because he personally killed the other threemost), Spleen invented the Automatic Beet Peeler and Sub-Atomic Re-Integrator (or ABPSAR). Doctor Spleen was once an professor at a respected university, where he enjoyed sex, beer, recreational drugs, and having a good time irresponsibly, proving that he was actually a college student trapped in a professor's body.

Ralph - Known as the Giant Space Weasel of Anthrax V, Ralph is actually a friendly, easy-going weaseloid from Leibowitz IV and an accomplished ukulele player in his own right. He would much rather return to his home in Netherspace and enjoy the company of his 500 weaseloid wives, but realizes that somebody has to be the "everyman" character that the reader can relate to.

Diana Dark - This sweet, innocent girl from Chicago (or, at least, as sweet and innocent as any girl from Chicago can be) was transported into SFSTORY by an explosion caused by the interaction of Cheez-Whiz and beer, though the police have attributed her disappearance to a bizarre Cruisinart accident. Partner to Time Agent 386.

Time Agent 386 - Nephew to Time Agent 357 and heir to his Time Agent legacy if and when 357 ever successfully retires, 386 is extremely hard to kill but not immortal, unlike most of the rest of their race which can be killed easily by violence but will live almost forever otherwise. 386 is currently missing in action.

HMS Golden Lance - Time Agent 357's ship, the HMS Golden Lance, was designed and built by Doctor Spleen to replace an earlier ship by the same name, also designed and built by Doctor Spleen. It is part timeship, part interdimensional cruiser, part warship, and part retirement home for 357. It is controlled by the VAL 9000 computer, or Val as her friends call her.

The story so far...

Time Agent 357 and Omegas were trapped inside inside of a temporal, dimensional, and spacial anomaly until rescued by Doctor Bing Von Spleen. Joined by Ralph and Diana Dark, they are attempting to find Time Agent 386 and recover Doctor Spleen's new and experimental ABPSARII (or ABPSAR Mark II) which has been stolen by renegade Time Agent Greez Hyperiok. This attempt has been hindered by an accident which switched our heroes' minds and bodies around. Omegas and Ralph were able to switch them back, but as a side effect our heroes have been lost in space and time...

Omegas smiled. This was not the smile of the mother of all evil plans coming together, or the smile of a sadist enjoying another's pain, or even the smile of realizing that the IRS (Intergalactic Revenue Service) has lost all the tax records for your planet for the last two or three hundred years. It was, instead, the smile of happiness, serenity, contentment, inner peace...

"Belch."

...and the consumption of large amounts of alcohol.

Omegas was stretched out on a folding deck chair, on a sandy beach, under a sunny sky, the only sound being the surf breaking and the wind blowing through the palm trees.

"Ralph!" Omegas called, cheerfully. "Ralph, my good weasel! Give an old buddy a hand here, would you please?"

Ralph scurried right over. Omegas using the word "please" in a non- sarcastic tone was enough to get anybody's attention. Ralph counted the empty containers scattered in the sand near the deck chair. That, he decided, explained everything.

"Yes, Omegas?" he asked.

"Huh? Oh, yeah. Give us a little hand here. I seem to have depleted my powers again." Omegas gestured as if trying to summon something.

Ralph sighed and moved closer. Holding aloft his paw, he willed forth a stream of raw power from the ring he was wearing. The ring was a combination of god-like alien power, ancient magic, ultramodern superscience, and a few components that Ralph had picked up at the local Radio Shack. While it was the Least Great of all the Great Rings of Power created in the particular alterverse (or alternate universe) in which they had acquired it, still, a magic ring is still a magic ring. In the wrong hands, the ring could be a great source of evil. In Ralph's hands, it simply provided the raw power that Omegas could manipulate into yet another pitcher of beer.

"Ahhhh," sighed Omegas, sudsy foam outlining his mouth. "That hits the spot. Thank you."

"You're welcome," said Ralph, still slightly off kilter at the sight and sound of a polite, thankful Omegas. "Um, don't you think it's time we should be going? We've been here for days..."

"Y'know, Ralph," slurred Omegas, "You think too much. Besides, we've already decided that the temporal flow in this alterverse is so much faster than the ones we're usually in that days here are like hours there. We've barely been gone any time at all, objectively speaking. Check out these equations..."

Ralph marvelled at the way Omegas, drunk as a skunk and unable to stand upright by himself, could nonetheless discuss temporal physics and make himself perfectly clear and understandable, unlike any known temporal phyics instructor ever observed teaching a class on the subject anywhere in the known multiverse.

"But, still," Ralph pressed. "Greez Hyperiok. ABPSARII. End of all life in all alterverses! Dogs and cats living together!"

"Look, you don't want to upset our loyal subjects, do you?"

Ralph had to admit that Omegas had a point there. The natives, observing their entrance through a space/time/spam interdimensional portal, had instantly proclaimed them gods. Ralph, of course, tried to talk them out of it. Omegas, on the other hand, summoned a few fireballs and a trio of scantily-clad dancing lemurs. Their godhood was assured. The natives were quite happy to give Omegas and Ralph anything they wanted, except help on how to find their way back to the HMS Golden Lance for which this serial is named.

"Surely," countered Ralph, "we're here for some other reason than to mooch off the natives."

Omegas was not impressed. "Look back to the start of this chapter. What do you see? Character summary. Obviously, we've been dropped into a peaceful interlude of some kind. No other reason for us to be here, so I'm just going to enjoy it for a while."

"But..."

"It's filler, Ralph. Entertaining filler, but filler nonetheless."

Ralph tried a different tack. "Look, Omegas, I've been working on this ring thing and I think I've got the hang of it now. I can open a portal that will take us back to the HMS Golden Lance, instead of just tossing us back into the timestream, but only if you help me."

"And I'll be happy to do that," answered Omegas. "Just as soon as I've finished my little vacation here." He stretched out and made himself infinitely comfortable. "Now, if you're finished hosing down the beach with negative vibes, why don't you wander off and let me take a little nap, hmm?"

Ralph sighed. Omegas listened to the sound of the pitter patter of little feet on sand as he scurried off. With a sigh of contentment, Omegas closed his eyes and slept the sleep of the innocent.

Or perhaps the sleep of the psychopath with no hint of a conscience.

Omegas sensed someone approaching. Flopping over, he pulled his sunglasses down to reveal his glowing red eyes. He pierced Ralph with his most evil, threatening, leave-me-alone glare.

Or would have, had it been Ralph approaching.

"Oh great and powerful Omegas," said the native, whom Omegas thought resembled nothing more than a Centauran meercat on stilts. That Omegas had never been to Centaurus, never seen a meercat, and had only the vaguest theoretical notion of what stilts were did not cross his mind as he thought this. He was, after all, Omegas.

"That would be me," Omegas answered quickly, hoping to forestall another of the endless native chants. "And you're blocking my sun."

The native looked up into the sky, saw the four suns, and moved so that he was no longer blocking the largest, careful not to block any others. "Oh great and powerful Omegas," he began again.

"Pass me that pitcher, would you?" Omegas interjected when the native paused to give proper reverance.

"Oh great and powerful Omegas," the native began for the third time. "WhereisthegreatandpowerfulRalph?" he asked in a rush.

"The great and powerful Ralph," Omegas answered slowly and with great sarcasm. "Ralph irritated me, much as you are doing now, so I sent him away. If you really want to find him, follow the pawprints."

The native's auditory appendages perked up at this. "The great and powerful Omegas and the great and powerful Ralph have had a..." He paused to check a notepad. "...a 'falling out'?"

"Yeah, so what?" Omegas asked.

"As foretold in the prophecy?" the native asked hopefully. "As written in the ancient sacred texts?"

Omegas had never thought much of prophecy, but he did know that when you're being worshipped as a god, it was wise to hide your contempt of ancient sacred texts, even if you are yourself more ancient than most said texts to begin with. "I suppose. Why? What of it?"

"Then it is truly The Time, oh great and powerful Omegas?"

"If I confirm that it is truly The Time, will you go away?"

"Oh, most certainly, oh great and powerful Omegas!"

"Then it is truly The Time," intoned Omegas in his deepest and most resonant tones, which sounded not at all unlike his normal speaking voice, which also sounded not at all unlike unbridled sarcasm.

Omegas looked around to see that while the author was distracted typing the last paragraph, the native had left. He went back to inspecting his eyelids for holes from the inside.

When Omegas next awoke, he noticed that he was several feet up in the air. At first, he thought that his full powers had returned and that he was flying. Then he realized that his deck chair was being held aloft by several Centauran meercats on stilts. He reached down and tapped the nearest native on the head. "Mind telling me what's going on here before I barbeque your face off?"

"Oh great and powerful Omegas, now that you and the great and powerful Ralph have had your falling out and you have confirmed that it is The Time, we are carrying you to the Volcano of Cleansing. Once there, you will be lowered into the fiery depths of AAAAAEEEEIIIYYY!"

There was perhaps more to the description of the process. However, none of the other natives felt like having their faces barbequed off at the moment. Omegas was still blasting fireballs at the retreating forms when Ralph scampered up to him.

"Omegas, I was just reading the Sacred Texts. If anybody asks you about The Time, stall."

"I figured that out on my own," snarled Omegas as he brushed sparks from his hands. "Ready to go?"

"Um, yes." Ralph raised the Least Great Ring and Omegas flexed his fingers. Combining their respective powers, Omegas and Ralph created a portal and stepped through it.

Meanwhile, back at the ranch, a tall figure approached a rustic cabin in the woods. His faded and broken-down hat and his much-patched leather vest were dusty. His mirrored sunglasses reflected the setting sun. Silver spurs jingling, he stepped up onto the porch. The figure did not appear to be at all surprised when the door opened before he could reach it.

"I came as soon as you called," said the small, timid man holding the door open. "When you weren't here, I kind of hoped..."

"Sorry to get your hopes up," answered the tall figure. "They'll be here soon. Stay inside until they leave."

"And then?"

The tall figure looked over his sunglasses. "And then we'll see if any of those nice things I told your parole board are true."

On board the HMS Golden Lance for which our serial is named, a very agitated Doctor Bing Von Spleen hurried into the Temporal Teleporter Terminal room. "Status!"

=It's just like I reported two chapters ago,= came the precise response from the ship's VAL 9000 computer. =The Temporal Teleporter Terminal came online and we're receiving a transmission!=

Doctor Von Spleen watched as one, two, three, and finally four shimmering forms began to materialize on the platform. He waited until Time Agent 357, Diana Dark, Ralph, and Omegas were fully formed before approaching them. As happy as he was to see them, Spleen had no particular urge to merge molecules with them.

"357?" he asked tentatively of 357, mindful of the recent lengthy and poorly-written body swap episode.

"Yes, it's me doctor," 357 answered. "Diana and I have returned to our proper bodies."

"357!" Spleen shouted joyously, gripping Agent 357 in a huge hug and slapping his back in a glad-to-see-you sort of way. He then turned to Diana Dark.

"Diana!" Spleen shouted joyfully, gripping Diana in a huge hug and slapping her butt in a glad-to-see-you sort of way. Diana's spinning hip toss left him sprawled on the deck plates in front of Ralph.

"Ralph?" he asked as he climbed to his feet unsteadily.

"Over here, Doctor," stated the body of Omegas.

Everyone stared blankly at Omegas for a full minute.

"Ha!" Omegas laughed loudly. "Fooled you! Oh, if you could have seen your faces. Hahahaha!"

While Omegas rolled around on the floor clutching at his sides, Doctor Spleen and the VAL 9000 computer recounted recent events to 357.

"And so," Spleen concluded, "I dismantled Hyperiok's bomb before it could explode, but his instruments didn't record that. He thinks we're all dead."

"Excellent!" exclaimed 357. "This simplifies everything!"

"What do you mean?" asked Ralph.

"If Greez Hyperiok thinks we're dead, he won't be expecting trouble. He won't be on his guard. That will make it much easier to sneak up on him and steal back the ABPSARII, or Automatic Beet Peeler and Sub- Atomic Re-integrator Mark II."

"You mean we can actually win this?" Diana asked incrediously.

"Yes! Nothing can go wrong now!" said 357, smiling smugly.

And 357 was still standing there smiling smugly when he faded from sight and memory like yesterday's boy band.

Ralph, Diana, and Spleen once again stared blankly. Dramatic and menacing music rose in volume as the screen faded to blank, the only other sound being Omegas guffawing...

What?
How?
Why?

For the answers to these and other equally pointed questions, tune in next week for another exciting episode of... SFSTORY!

Copyright 2006 by Troy H. Cheek. Free to read, but please reprint only with permission.