And Now, Time Travel Read online

  The pair of Purple Shirts turned white with anxiety, but Captain King Solomon ignored this response and approached the throng of multicolored female natives that had surrounded the covenant ceremony. He put his arms around the two most buxom of them and said, “Now, let’s go celebrate lasting peace.”

  The women giggled and began to walk away with him. Alex groaned at the Captain, because the Captain always followed a successful mission with what Alex could only describe as a Bacchanalia, but somehow even more hedonistic. And he never invited any of his fellow officers to join.

  However, before the Captain could begin his celebration, a buzz rang out from every crew member’s B.T.T. badge. From speakers embedded within the badges, a robotic voice declared, “Incoming transmission from Agent Arthur on Earth 6,076. All Landing Crew must return to the B.T.S. Unicorn Husker for emergency agent extraction!”

  Alex grinned. The Captain’s hedonistic celebration would have to wait. Alex tapped his badge and said, “First Officer Alexandros ho Megas to Officer Trixie. Mission complete. Jump us back to the ship at once. And please relay orders to Officer Groveland to collect our Gravitron Saddles from the battlefield for return to storage.”

  Thunder boomed overhead. Then a massive dirigible appeared in the sky. It consisted of an elongated, ellipse-shaped balloon that was easily the size of a major city. Thousands upon thousands of cables attached the bottom of the balloon to a gondola that was nearly as large as the balloon and shaped like an infinity symbol. A gigantic set of engines extended from the rear of the gondola, and these engines were as tall and wide as the gondola itself. The entire vessel was striped blue and white, though the stripes on the balloon were horizontal while the stripes on the infinity-symbol-shaped gondola were vertical.

  A pale blue beam of light flashed from the underside of the ship and surrounded the Landing Crew of the B.T.S. Unicorn Husker. They were raised into the air by it, and then they dissolved into tiny particles.

  They immediately reappeared atop a raised dais inside a cylindrical chamber on board the ship. Officer Trixie’s head poked up from behind the controls to the Jump Chamber. Officer Trixie was a cockatrice from Earth 82,202,444,121,003, which meant that she had the body of a two-legged dragon and the head of a rooster. This created the odd juxtaposition of a tiny, feathered head atop a gigantic, golden-hued serpentine body that—despite being curled as tightly as it could curl—occupied nearly every square inch of the Jump Chamber aside from the raised dais used for teleporting members of the Landing Crew. She wore the marigold shirt of an officer, though it was so small on her that she had merely stuck her head through the neck hole and allowed the shirt to dangle from her neck. She also wore a pair of reflective sunglasses, which allowed other crew members to look into her eyes without being accidentally murdered by her death stare, which was a natural defense mechanism amongst her species.

  Officer Trixie crowed in delight to see the Landing Crew return. She waved at Alex with one of her two stubbly legs. Alex waved back at her and thanked her for the quick jump back onto the ship. She lifted a portion of her hindquarters to create a narrow path to the door, and the Landing Crew stepped down from the dais and ducked below her to the exit.

  Alex and the Landing Crew exited the Jump Chamber. The Purple Shirts and the officers parted company in the hallway, with the officers rushing directly to the bridge while the surviving Purple Shirts dispersed to their cabins to recuperate. Upon arriving at the bridge, Alex took his seat near the helm in the First Officer’s chair. Leif son of Erik from Earth 56,909 strode over and resumed his place at the ship’s helm. 29333, the Communications Officer recently assigned to this ship, marched to her station and took her place there. Ricardo walked to the navigation unit and resumed his seat. Bagoo the Bog Ghost, the ship’s Chief Security Officer, stood vigilant at his terminal near the back of the bridge as he had for the duration of the mission, for he was the officer who had remained behind to command the ship while Captain King Solomon and First Officer Alex departed it as part of this mission’s Landing Crew.

  Finally, Captain King Solomon sat down in the Captain’s chair, a dispirited look on his face. He licked his lips a few times, his way of accepting and grieving the loss of his hedonistic celebration—the cost of fulfilling his duties as a safekeeper of the Space-Time-Multinuum. He pressed a button on the chair’s right arm and said, “Chronal Date 4,890,888,546. Our mission: to seek out chronal anomalies and fix them diplomatically. The B.T.S. Unicorn Husker has completed a mission with the peoples of Earth 595,880 while awaiting an update from Agent Arthur on Earth 6,076. We have received his call and are now en route to his location. We skipped the native celebration festivities on Earth 595,880 in order to retrieve him.”

  The Captain released the button, and the recording stopped. He glanced over at Alex and said, “That’s the most tedious part of this job, always having to provide that stupid oral record before we can actually go anywhere. Something to which you may look forward when you eventually command your own ship.”

  Alex shrugged. The Captain turned to the blond Leif son of Erik and said, “To Earth 6,076. Keep us at the current point in time.”

  Leif nodded, twisted the circular wooden helm, and then pressed a large red button. The stars and blackness of space outside seemed to slice into billions of tiny strips. They blurred together as the ship dove into them. Then they tangled together into billions of knots and undulated for what felt like hours. Then they untangled and transformed into the sky above Earth 6,076. Leif twisted the helm once more, and the mighty ship dipped downward toward the planet.

  As the ship approached this earth, Alex scowled at the scene looming outside the view screen. He hated Agent Arthur, and though he had not seen the bastard in nearly twenty years, the scene below reminded him why he despised the man. Agent Arthur was supposed to have absconded with the younger version of himself quietly and without causing alarm or alerting the natives to his presence, but on the street below was chaos frozen in time.

  A billboard had been frozen in place as it was toppling over. Cracked pavement and random property damage peppered the street, and smoke billowed up from random small craters. And there in the middle of it all was Agent Arthur, wearing a blue bathrobe, flannel boxer shorts, and pink carpet slippers as he stood atop his hovering dolly. He waved at the B.T.S. Unicorn Husker like an idiot while next to him stood an enormous robot with drills for arms and at his feet lay his younger-self and a woman who looked identical to the ship’s current Communications Officer.

  “Officer Groveland, retrieve Agent Arthur and his companions from the earth below,” ordered Captain King Solomon into a communicator on his chair. “You may store them wherever is most convenient for you. I shall send a representative to retrieve them as soon as possible.”

  Blue light surrounded the waving idiot and his entire dolly. The man, his companions, and his dolly raised into the air and then disappeared. Everyone on the bridge sighed, for Agent Arthur was once again in their midst.

  * * *

  1 A Gravitron Saddle is a hovering saddle that floats on pulsar beams. Its top speed in standard Earth 6,076-level gravity clocks in at 300 M.P.H., with capabilities of triple that speed in non-gravity situations. It is operated through handlebars that extend from its front that control its speed and cause it to vaguely resemble a flying motorcycle. An operator pairs these handlebars with Pulsar Boots, which—when toggled to the “Saddle Ready” setting—use pulsar beams that emanate from their base to create upward and downward momentum, depending on the direction the operator points them. The operator may place the Pulsar Boots in the “Gravity” setting to shut off the boots’ pulsar beams and activate artificial gravity conductors in the boots’ heels. So long as there is a large mass at which to aim one’s heels, this is a most useful setting in the cold vacuum of space, because it allows a user to pull him/herself down toward whichever object/mass he points his/her heels.

  The Gravitron Saddle and its accompanying Pulsar Boots were
invented by the famous cowboy-turned-engineer-turned-astronaut Victor Vakarov-Wu-Goldenblatt sometime during the 29th century on Earth 6,076 after an unsuccessful Bull-Slug ride in the Galactic Rodeo on the dark side of Oberon, the outermost moon of Uranus.

  Chapter 2

  TIME UNBOUND

  For the past few minutes, Bureau of Interdimensional Travel2 Agent 27142’s entire body felt as though it were being pricked with pins. It was the exact feeling he got when his foot fell asleep and was just beginning to wake, only it spanned every inch of his body.

  Despite the discomfort, Agent 27142 interpreted the feeling as a positive sign, because it was the first new sensation that he had experienced in nearly two hours. For nearly two hours ago, a version of himself from an alternate reality had ambushed him using a weapon that froze time. This ambusher had then absconded aboard a Bureau of Time Travel3 vessel, taking with him the objects of Agent 27142’s pursuit: an escaped prisoner who just happened to be yet another version of himself from an alternate reality and a robot with drills for arms, both of whom were directly responsible for the murder of Agent 29333—a fellow B.I.T. officer and the unrequited love of Agent 27142’s life.

  Agent 27142 attempted to wiggle his fingers. They moved. This would not normally be cause for rejoicing, but it was more evidence that time was now beginning to revert to normal, which meant he would soon be free to continue his quest for vengeance against his escaped prisoner and that cursed robot with drills for arms. Because the B.T.T. was now harboring his prey, this quest meant he would need to blast his way through the time-policing agency to have his vengeance. But making war upon the B.T.T. did not concern him, for he would destroy anyone and anything to avenge Agent 29333.

  “Finally, I can move,” he muttered. He grew overjoyed when he realized that the words were not merely internal monologue. His lips had moved, and the sound had escaped from his mouth.

  But then Agent 27142 frowned, because he remembered that time becoming unstuck also meant that the he would need to solve the lethal predicament that towered over him: yet another alternate-dimension-version of himself, this one a hostile god. This god was over nine-feet tall, had flames growing from his scalp instead of hair, and wore a cloak formed from the stitched-together hides of baby seals and white wolves. A necklace of severed ears hung from his neck, and a belt of thick rope hung suspended around his waist, attached to which were a leather pouch and tools made from obsidian. In his right hand he brandished a dagger with a serrated blade, which he had been on the verge of driving through Agent 27142’s flesh before time had become frozen.

  The god was also beginning to become unstuck in time, as evidenced when the god began blinking. His fingers began twitching on the green-furred cat’s paw that served as the serrated dagger’s handle. His flaming hair began dancing in the breeze.

  This fiery, god-version of Agent 27142 laughed, a menacing cackle made even more terrifying because his left arm and the top left side of his torso had been melted off before time had become stuck. When time froze, the god had been in the process of using his godly powers to reattach the melted part to the intact portion his body via gleaming strands of sinew that looked like angry red snakes.

  The god said, “As I was saying before I was so rudely interrupted by that damned time-freezing device: it looks like a bad day for those who can’t resurrect themselves.”

  A shrieking creak resounded above the god. The Muse Electronics billboard loomed overhead. This billboard normally stood erect across the street from Art’s apartment, but it had been damaged during the mêlée prior to time becoming frozen and was in the process of toppling when time had halted. Its bulk eclipsed the sun and bathed Agent 27142 and the god in shadow. A second creak erupted from the billboard’s gigantic pole, and whatever invisible strings were holding the damaged billboard aloft in the air began snapping. It slowly started to drop exactly as it had been dropping two hours prior, before it had been frozen in time.

  The hand of the god’s detached left arm was currently enclosed around Agent 27142’s ankles, preventing the Bureau of Interdimensional Travel agent from rolling away to safety. Agent 27142 tried desperately to think of a solution to his predicament, but his mind went blank. He cursed as the precious moments ticked past. “Think!” Agent 27142 said to himself, only to frown in embarrassment when he realized he had accidently screamed the word aloud.

  He glanced from billboard to god to dagger. Then something clicked in Agent 27142’s brain, and he remembered his saving grace.

  “Henry! Help! Get me out of here!” Agent 27142 yelled to his companion, a sentient gourd who was currently being rolled by the god’s nearly two-foot long, tattooed cockroach across the hot pavement and away from the danger zone of the falling billboard.

  “Give me a moment,” replied Henry the Jump Gourd, his melancholy voice so monotone that Agent 27142 felt a gnawing sense of boredom despite the dire predicament that had enveloped him. Henry was a jump totem with the power to travel across dimensions. He belonged to Agent 27142. Henry continued, “I’m in the middle of something here.”

  The god did not wait for Henry to help Agent 27142, instead slashing the dagger down at Agent 27142 in a ferocious arc, apparently intending to stab the agent before the falling billboard could crush them both. Agent 27142 twisted to the left just in time to save himself. He felt the dagger slam into his right shoulder, the exact spot where his heart had lain less than a second prior. The dagger cut all the way through his flesh, deflected off his bone, and scraped against the concrete below him. He screamed. And then he punched the god directly in the nose just as the billboard crashed down around them both.

  Screeching metal seemed to cry out in ferocious chorus from every surrounding angle. Chaos filled Agent 27142’s world. The falling horizontal steel torsion bar smacked into the god, and the god was flung away in a rain of blood and gore. Much to Agent 27142’s dismay, however, the god’s severed arm remained where it was instead of flying away with the rest of the god’s body, its hand still clamped around Agent 27142’s legs. Agent 27142 immediately sat upright and attempted to pry his legs free in order to escape, but it was to no avail. The god’s fingers refused to loosen.

  The billboard hit the ground lopsidedly, with the steel torsion bar crashing upon the ground first to Agent 27142’s left and then rolling toward him as the remainder of it hit the street. He glanced around in desperation.

  There! The manhole from which Agent 27142’s enemies had emerged from the sewers before being whisked away on the B.T.T. ship. It was still open, and if he were quick, Agent 27142 might be able to duck into it to save himself.

  Agent 27142 attempted to drag himself toward it. But alas, the god’s disembodied arm acted like an anchor weighing him to this spot. He pulled his knees up to his chest and hunched with his head over his knees. He began tugging once more at the god’s fingers. And then he remembered that he had devices in his holster that could help free him from the hand. He felt like an idiot for allowing his desperation to cause him to forget them. He reached down to his holster for one of his brass pill-shaped devices—one of which he had used on the god before time had frozen to cause the god’s arm to melt from his body.

  But he ran out of time. With blinding speed, the world around Agent 27142 shrunk smaller and smaller. The cacophony of bending metal enveloped him, and then he could see nothing.

  * * *

  2 The Bureau of Interdimensional Travel—commonly referred to as the B.I.T.—is an oversight agency charged with regulating interdimensional travel, monitoring interdimensional trade, preventing interdimensional smuggling and illegal trafficking, collecting interdimensional taxes, serving interdimensional court documents, and policing Multiverse-level threats.

  3 You met this organization in Chapter 1. If the type of work they do is still unclear, there is no need to worry. You’ll understand soon.

  Chapter 3

  COLLECTION FROM THE CARGO HOLD

  Captain King Solomon turned to Alex an
d smiled. “First Officer, I need you to make your way to the cargo hold at once.”

  The smallest of frowns curved downward across the edges of Alex’s lips. “Why me, sir?”

  Now it was Captain King Solomon’s turn to frown. He arched an eyebrow at Alex and said, “I have known you to question an order only one other time, and that was when you were possessed by the time-displaced pirate-demon from Earth 90,009. Are you currently possessed by a time-displaced entity?”

  Alex’s frown grew as he thought, I conquered and ruled the entire known world, while you lorded over a tiny backwater kingdom. I should be the Captain of this ship, and you should be my underling.

  Captain King Solomon seemed to sense Alex’s thoughts. He tilted his head back and stared at Alex over his long, hooked nose. He looked like an overlarge falcon with a beard. The Captain said, “I understand your frustration in taking orders from me, especially when you feel the orders given are not worthy of your status.”

  “Sir, I never said tha-”

  Captain King Solomon waved away the objection with the back of his hand. “I would not ever claim to be a better strategist or tactical commander than you. But I am in command of this ship because the Bureau of Time Travel considers wisdom the greatest of virtues—while you display far too much brazeness, which the Bureau considers one of the worst vices. I’ve no doubt that you will make a fine Captain someday when you have matured, but for now, it would behoove you to use the time in my service to better yourself by suckling at the teat of my wisdom.”