SFSTORY: HMS Golden Lance #21 - Enter the Cowboy

Miss Diana Dark and Doctor Bing Von Spleen, both formerly of Earth, Ralph the Giant Space weasel of Anthrax V, actually from Leibowitz IV, and the VAL 9000 computer, installed in the HMS Golden Lance for which this serial is named, all stared blankly at where their former leader and captain, one Time Agent 357, had formerly been standing before he disappeared like a big network science fiction series.

Well, technically, the VAL 9000 scanned futilely while her cognitive banks repeatedly came up with repeating sets of null equations, but in practice it was much the same as staring blankly.

Omegas, former immortal and current immense pain in everyone's arse, continued to roll on the floor clutching his sides, amused to the point of tears by his own wit and the untimely disappearance of the aforementioned Time Agent 357. Omegas did not get along with 357.

Come to mention it, Omegas didn't get along with anybody.

=Temporal disturbance! Temporal disturbance!= shouted the VAL 9000 computer. =Temporal disturbance detected!=

Several alarms, klaxons, and sirens began sounding. "Bleep! Bleep! Bleep!" bleeped the bleeping bleeper bleepily.

Diana Dark, having not quite the most profound intellect of all the reasoning beings onboard but having a fairly deft grasp of character traits, turned on the most obvious source of the problem. "Omegas! I don't know what you did, but bring him back, you... you..."

"Ruthless, heartless, backstabbing, murdering son of a bitch?" Ralph suggested helpfully.

All beings present did a doubletake towards Ralph. The aforementioned weaseloid, busy grooming his whiskers, did not seem to notice. After a moment's pause, Diana took to the suggestions.

"Yes! You ruthless..." Kick to the head. "...heartless..." Another kick to the head. "...backstabbing..." Kick. "...murdering..."

"Whoa there, little lady!" Omegas shouted, spitting out a gigavolt discharge that scorched the far wall panel and would have done worse to Diana had she not catapulted herself out of the way. She performed a triple flip in the air and landed in a split. Ralph cheered and clapped and Doctor Spleen spilled his beer.

Omegas climbed to his feet. "I don't care how hot you look (and admittedly you are a hottie) nobody kicks me around like that. And what makes you think I had anything to do with 357's disappearance?"

Diana glazed. She then realized that this was not the look she meant to project and instead glared. "You're the only one laughing," she pointed out in a not entirely unreasonable tone.

"Of course I'm laughing," stated Omegas, though in truth he was beginning to look quite surly. "Computer, play back Time Agent 357's last statement before he disappeared."

"Yes! Nothing can go wrong now!" said 357's voice from the overhead speakers, muffled only slightly by the VAL 9000's heartrending sobs.

Omegas, whose heart was fairly unrendable even on a good day, ignored her. "Anyone who's spent any amount of time in SFSTORY knows that you never, never, NEVER tempt the Fates like that. Or the Universe in general (whichever one you might happen to be in). Or the Authors." Omegas paused to place his nonexistant hat over the place where his theoretical heart should have been. "Lord knows that anything can and probably will happen to prove you wrong." And, given his employment history, Omegas probably knew better than most what the Lord knows.

"Still, bring him back," Diana ordered through clenched teeth.

"I think not," Omegas said slowly, almost as if he were actually giving the matter thought. "It occurs to me that without Time Agent 357 around, I'm not likely to encounter nearly as much resistance to my regularly scheduled schemes involving gaining immortality and limitless power. None of you have the power to oppose me."

Ralph stepped forward and held his paw aloft. On that paw was a ring. This 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. This Least Great of all the Great Rings of Power, resembling nothing so much as a cubit zirconia embedded in a beer can pull-tab, crackled with energies even Omegas did not fully comprehend. "I beg," Ralph said gruffly, "to differ."

Omegas actually backed down.

Ralph grinned toothily and turned to Diana. "Fear not, Miss Dark. While I don't understand exactly what's going on, I think I have a feel for the energies which removed Time Agent 357. It should be a simple matter of suppressing them."

Time Agent 357 materialized in front of them. "I just had the strangest dream. You were in it. And you were there. And you..."

Diana caught 357 just as he fell forward. Omegas looked as if he very much wanted to start laughing again, but stifled it with difficulty after Diana looked sharply in his direction. Omegas stood aside while Ralph, Spleen, and Diana dragged 357 to the nearest medical bay.

The AutoQuack v1.7, state of the art in medical science, scanned 357 and immediately pronounced him completely healthy. It also pronounced him a Centauran meercat on stilts who was three months pregnant with triplets. Ralph, Spleen, and Diana dragged 357 to the nearest machine shop. Diana made soothing noises while Spleen threw together some equipment and Ralph made shadow puppets on the wall.

"Ralph, that's a very nice rendition of George Washington crossing the Mississippi, but you're blocking my light!" Spleen vented. Ralph, his feelings hurt, wandered off to help Omegas dismantle the AutoQuack v1.7, it being tradition to destroy the things every time that they are introduced into the story. Spleen snatched at pieces they were tossing down the corridor and added them to the collection of engine parts, eating utensils, adult novelty items, and sensor suites that he was assembling around 357's inert frame.

Time Agent 357, who had been fading in and out of reality, faded in and became solid as Spleen made some final adjustments. He then faded in a little too solidly and began turning inside out. Spleen backed the last dial back a notch or two.

=That's done it, Doctor,= reported the VAL 9000 computer. =All of the temporal disturbances have been completely damped down.=

"But what caused them to begin with, Val?" Diana wondered.

=Unknown,= VAL responded. =But now that I've had a chance to analyze it, it seems that 357 has been doing this for some time. His swapping bodies with you slowed it down for a while, but now it's accelerating at an accelerating rate.=

"Surely you know something, Doctor?"

"I know a great deal about a great many things," Doctor Bing Von Spleen agreed amiably. "You don't get to be the cleanest-complexioned Spamologist in all of known space without knowing something. Why, I've probably forgotten more than most people will ever know." He paused to chug down another beer, killing millions of brain cells in the process. "But I'm afraid I don't know what's happening to 357."

=I have a suggestion,= came the voice from the overhead speakers.

"This is the jingle for Cthulhu Chips.
Crushy smushy Cthulhu Chips.
Close your eyes and try to picture
Spiny evil Cthulhu Chips.

"That is unless you're flying.
Oy Vey! Now, that reminds me..."

"Dijon, turn that off! We have plans to make!" Renegade Time Agent Greez Hyperiok was in a good mood, and expressed it by being extra nasty to his subordinates.

"What plans?" answered Dijon Mu'tard, Hyperiok's head flunky and bottle washer. "You've won. Besides, it's almost finished."

"...you know they're made with real souls
by gods who dwell in dark holes.
The snack that bites back: Cthulhu Chips!"

Dijon finally turned off the radio. "Snappy jingle, huh? I'm thinking of buying out the franchise."

"You are odd," Greez said slowly, as if noticing this for the first time. "Plans to take over the multiverse, of course."

"What's to plan?" Dijon said snappily. "Just pick up the ABPSARII, type in that you want to be the ruler of the multiverse, and press 'enter.' The Automatic Beet Peeler and Sub-Atomic Re-integrator Mark II will search through all possible times and altiverses until it comes up with one that gives you what you want."

Greez snorted. "That plan lacks flair. Sure, I could get everything I want in one fell swoop, but to do so in such an uncouth manner would get me kicked out of the supervillian club."

"Then use the ABPSARII to make yourself president of the club."

"You're no fun," said Greez dangerously.

Dijon, who finally realized that he was really cheesing off his boss, backpedalled furiously. "Look, I'm just concerned that if we don't cement our victory quickly, we'll lose what we've gained so far."

"Lose? Impossible!" scoffed Greez. "There is no one who can stop us now. Time Agent 357 and his companions, who are the only nominally effective heroes in this storyline, are dead dead DEAD. Now, let's start taking over altiverses one at a time..."

Dijon had to agree that Greez had a point. 357 was undeniably dead.

"Oh, I feel like I'm dead," moaned 357.

"Stop being such a crybaby," fussed Diana as she mothered him. "Shut up and listen to Val's suggestion."

=Whatever's happening to 357 is outside the realm of science, even as it is normally mangled in a science fiction epic such as this. This smacks of divine influence. I suggest that we contact one of our divine sources of information.=

Omegas, who had gotten tired of people trying to kick him every time he started laughing, considered this for a momemnt. "I don't know, Val. The Jeff Smith Accords limit the amount of help that we can get from that quarter. Besides, I'm persona non wanted in those circles."

"The Oracle at Delphi?" Ralph suggested.

"Nope," answered 357. "She's gone to a pay service."

"I have some Muses who owe me a favor," suggested Omegas.

"I've heard some of your records," said Spleen. "I'll pass on anything one of your Muses inspires."

"Ouija board?" Diana suggested.

"Wait, I've got it!" Spleen shouted. "Val, set course for alterverse 8891 immediately!"

=Doctor, with the recent multiversal renumbering, that is no longer a valid selection. In fact, I can't even find an appropriate conversion of it in the new listings.=

"That's right," Spleen agreed. "It's one of the special alterverses that has been kept hidden for reasons which will become clear some time during the next couple of chapters. In the mean time, just punch in the numbers and hit the gas!"

With a lurch, a jerk, a shudder, and several other unseemly actions, the HMS Golden Lance blasted through Netherspace and towards the unknown and mysterious alterverse 8891.

Meanwhile, back at the ranch, a tall figure stepped onto the porch of his 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 propped one booted foot up on the porch railing in a dramatic pose. He idly played with the silver holster at his side.

He did not seem to be the slightest bit surprised when the HMS Golden Lance materialized in his front yard. He stood patiently while all the other characters in the story filed out of the ship.

"Welcome to Alterverse 8891," the tall figure said in a husky voice, sort of a combination of Waylon Jennings and Don Williams.

"Hi, there, Cowboy!" said 357. "Nice to see that you've settled in."

"Cowboy?" asked Diana incredulously. "Not THE Cowboy?"

"Well, more 'A' Cowboy than 'THE' Cowboy," Spleen explained.

"I'm confused," Diana admitted.

"It's okay, little lady," the tall figure said. "Just pull up a rocking chair and I'll explain everything."

As they settled in, he admitted "Of course, this will require an extended flashback sequence..."

"NO!" screamed everybody as they tried to run for it. Unfortunately, rocking chairs are hard to get out of in a hurry, so by the time they had regained their feet, overpaid special effects artists were already morphing the screen with wavy lines signifying that the flashbacks had indeed already begun.

Who is this tall figure and what help can he be?
Why does he use flashbacks?
Say, didn't I used to go by the handle of "The Cowboy?"
Why do fools fall in love?

Tune in next week for thrills, spills, and little pink pills, all in the next exciting episode of... SFSTORY!

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