From swede at garywolson.com Sat May 25 13:42:49 2013 From: swede at garywolson.com (Gary W. Olson) Date: Sat, 25 May 2013 16:42:49 -0400 Subject: SF: Universal Solvents #25 *series finale* Message-ID: <1030827420cafba7d495e94bd1673005.squirrel@webmail.garywolson.com> UNIVERSAL SOLVENTS (a Tale of Sfstory!) Episode 25 "Gold" (the series finale) by Gary W. Olson -~-_- The world around Bing Von Spleen seemed more-or-less the same as it had been, but he immediately saw that it was not. The verdant forest around him was undamaged, and mighty trees--which only hours ago he had seen broken to pieces by the titanic cosmic energies expended by Zark Flyby--stood tall and proud. The sky was a slightly darker shade of blue, and held more clouds. An asp was considering his exposed thigh, something he was quite sure had not been the case only a few seconds ago. "Yipes!" he exclaimed, as the last fact sunk belatedly into his consciousness. An instant before the asp lunged, he jumped back, twisted in midair, and hit the ground running. The remains of his fruit-rollup cloak fluttered behind him as he streaked (in multiple senses) through the trees. As he ran, he considered recent events. He had been in a clearing with Toni Williams and a large number of other combatants on planet Zeta Ricola Beta in the battle to prevent the Breaking of the Fast at the Dawn of the Universe. Through a slew of spectacularly contrived and unlikely happenings, combined with willful stupidity of cosmic magnitude, that event had indeed been prevented, and the energies prophesized as the doom of the universe were capped. The device that powered so many of those contrived, unlikely, and stupid happenings, the ABPSARI (somehow changed into a wetvac), had been in his hands, and he had started to shift it into 'safe mode' in preparation for the erratic device's deconstruction. Then Lucky, the six-foot-tall-at-the-shoulder mutant black cat that had eaten one of the authors of the drama--the ur-bagel Shoonma--horked up said ur- bagel right into the ABPSARI nozzle. The ABPSARI transformed into an asp, of all things, and it and Von Spleen had been consumed in a flash... and wound up here. 'Here' seemed to Von Spleen likely to be planet Zeta Ricola Beta, though not of the time he had only recently inhabited. As a semi-regular voyager with time travelers such as 357, he was not particularly fazed by this realization, though he was considerably annoyed. Past or future, it would be a challenge to find a way offworld, to someplace with decent food, clean clothes, and quality mind-altering substances. He looked over his shoulder, and emitted another yelp. The ABPSARI-asp was slithering through the foliage after him, moving at speeds he was almost sure snakes were not known for achieving. Why it should be fixated on him, he did not know... although, as the Earth's foremost Spamologist, it might have been because of all the Spamological radiation he had been exposed to over the years. He resolved that he was not so curious about the answer as to stop running, and in fact picked up his pace. Moments later, Von Spleen burst into a broad clearing, in which rested a silver starship that was about thirty-five yards long from nozzle to thrusters. Its landing ramp was down, and two figures near it stood conversing, oblivious to his approach. One figure was short, grey, wore gold robes, and had a face that bore a strong resemblance to that of Freddie Prinze Jr. The other was a heavyset man in a retro-gold-and-black spacesuit, who looked only vaguely familiar. Von Spleen didn't pause to identify the figures, as he was too busy sprinting past them and up the ramp. "Hey!" the space-suited man exclaimed. "You can't go in there! I, Baconos, future overlord of the universe, forbid i--*gaaaaaaaah!*" "Sssss," said the asp-ABPSARI, as it removed its fangs from Baconos's right calf. It appeared dazed, as if it had run into the Space Villain by accident, and had reflexively bitten him. The other figure, who Von Spleen now recognized as a younger version of Sark Flyby--one of the rulers of Zeta Ricola Beta in the future he had come from--took several brisk steps back. Before the asp could resume its pursuit, Baconos expressed his displeasure by shooting it with his DIESCUM laser pistol. The ABPSARI vanished in a neutron haze. Von Spleen, peering around the edge of the hatch, watched as Baconos looked up to consider him. When Baconos toppled onto the grass, nearly landing on Sark, Von Spleen decided he had seen enough, and pushed the 'close hatch' button. He then went to the cockpit and pushed a sequence of 'launch the ship and get the hell out of here' buttons. As the blue haze of the sky was replaced by the starry darkness of outer space, he contemplated his future, which now, it seemed, included roughly forty years of his past. He'd have to avoid himself for those forty years, to avoid causing paradoxes and/or explosions of his person(s). But that would be easy enough. All he had to do was think of where to go first, and where would be a good place to hide during times when he might otherwise run into himself... (Which pretty much worked out for the next forty years, up until the events of the HMS Golden Lance series, in which the now-elderly Von Spleen (or just 'Spleen', as he signed his last name by then) got re-involved in many exciting semi-heroic exploits despite himself.) -~-_- Still on Zeta Ricola Beta, but back in the 'current' time (i.e. less than half a day after the end of Universal Solvents #24), Captain Steve Vogel stood on the deck of the earth ship _Challenger III,_ watching two vessels depart on the main viewscreen. One was a Ford Pinto, a converted-for-interstellar-travel vehicle owned by a couple of Interstellar University senior students. The other was a decidedly shoddy and rusty saucer-shaped craft bearing the name W.S. _Universal Solvent_. "Looks like they're on their way," said Toni Williams, the Space Hero who had taken charge of the battle on Zeta Ricola Beta and sorted out the aftermath with remarkable patience. "I'm told that repairs to your starship are also completed, and you can depart at any time." "Ah, good," said Steve. "I'm a bit surprised the _Universal Solvent_ could still fly, given that its primary power source, the... um..." "'The Fiber,'" Toni supplied. "The Fiber," Steve repeated. "I'm surprised their ship can fly without it. Of course, going visually, I'm surprised it could fly *with* it..." "We replaced the Fiber with a standard n-core Spam-pod," Toni replied. "Did some light reconfiguring of its power relays. It should last them a while." Steve nodded. "It was... interesting, traveling with them. Wonder what they're going to do next?" "Hard to say," said Toni. "What are *you* going to do next, if I may ask?" "The _Challenger III_ is returning to Earth," Vogel said. "Buzz Williams took care of Earth's 'Spammymon Z' problem for us, and now that this excitement is done with, we have no reason to be out and about." Just then, the turbolift doors opened, and four uniformed figures spilled out, apparently in the midst of a high-speed chase that had been only momentarily interrupted. "Stop that man!" exclaimed Captain Spaulding. "He's committed an act of treason!" "But I was just pretending I was taking pictures of the ship's power plant!" Zeppus Coleslaw replied. "Honest!" "That's'a why he'a said it was an act'a treason," Lt. Chicobaldi scolded. "If you wasn't'a acting, he would'a just called it'a treason!" Lt. Zacko honked his horn and chased Zeppus about the bridge. He then noticed Toni, and attempted to give chase to her, which she managed to fend off by placing a firm hand against his forehead. After letting him run in place for ten seconds, she spun Zacko around and sent him running to the lift. Chicobaldi and Zeppus followed. Steve fumed, silently and effeminately. "It's been a pleasure seeing you again, my dear," said Spaulding. "Last time I saw you, you were this high." He held out a hand at waist level. "Next time, lay off the drugs." With a tip of his cap, he raced to the lift, just before the doors closed. "I'm also looking forward to getting them off this ship," said Vogel, after a heavy sigh. "Fortunately, I was advised this morning that their space station, Freedonia 5, is now fully repaired and is being towed from the Moon to a La Grange point orbit around Earth." "I can see how that's a relief," Toni answered. The lift door opened again, this time disgorging Cmdr. Jean St. Thomas, Buzz Williams, Kalvin Certain, Lucky, Megabot, and an elderly man in a retro-futuristic silver jumpsuit. The energy shackles around his wrists indicated the old man was a prisoner, but unlike fellow prisoner Kalvin, whose wrists were also shackled, the old man seemed in high spirits, and was animatedly conversing with Buzz Williams. Jean St. Thomas seemed markedly annoyed, however, and split off from the group as soon as she could. "They're ready to transfer back to the Time Police vessel _Zenyetta Mondatta_," she said, as Lucky padded over to his spot next to the captain's chair and settled down. Then she lowered her voice. "Now, sir, please. I don't think I can take another old story from those two." "What?" Toni asked. "I was just getting to the part about the giant fire ants of Raknos Six," said the old man. "I... oh, hello, Captain, I don't believe we've met. I'm Satik." "A Sonar Man?" asked Steve. "Quite," Satik replied. "I was just telling your Commander about a particular time I was trying to kill Buzz Williams, here, back... oh, several decades, I think..." "Twenty-eight years," Williams supplied, as he scratched his chin in thought. "Right after I nearly caught you helping the Space Pirates of the Chartreuse Nebula..." "I don't remember... wait. Was that where I tried to feed you to the Giant Basset Hound of Arctos?" "No, that was a year before... I think..." "I'm quite ready to get out of here," said Kalvin Certain. "In fact, I'm not sure I wouldn't object to just being beamed into space at this point." "Nonsense!" said Buzz, clapping Certain on his back. "You haven't even heard how Satik and I ended up having to form a temporary alliance to fight off the rise of Death Lord Randlak's Frog- Yams on Beta Targon. You want to be a Space Villain, after all, and how're you going to do that if you don't have a good grounding in the history of Space Villainy?" Kalvin responded by making small strangulated sounds and shutting his eyes. "Mr. Satik," said Steve, "I understand it's you we have to thank for the Time Police arriving in the nick of time to save this ship?" "Right, right," Satik replied. "After those fellows, Ronald and Norman, and their Space Ingenue... Kissy, was it?... yes... after they were captured by this fellow's 'Team E' henchmen...' He tilted his head at Kalvin Certain. "...well, they'd left their spacegoing Pinto on the space station we were on. That whole mini-adventure we had in capturing them was the last straw for me. I was done working in the sales shop for those arrogant young fools that Sonar Men are these days! So I tracked down the Pinto, hotwired it, and took off, determined to recapture my glory days!" "So what happened?" asked Toni. "He was red-flagged by the security system on Talmot's Asteroid," Buzz noted. "They reported his capture to the Time Police, I came out to take him in, and heard his story. From that and the information Toni relayed to me over the past year, I immediately deduced where everyone was headed--that is, here--and assembled a Time Police fleet." "I'd had some prunes and fiber just before Ronald and Norman showed up," Satik explained, looking somewhat sheepish. "And the Pinto's waste facility was both distasteful and... er, offline. So I had to stop somewhere." "Speaking of stopping somewhere," Kalvin interjected, "may we go now? I've never looked forward to a solitary cell so much." "Satik's just with us temporarily," Buzz explained. "Our bargain was his information for his freedom. We'll drop him off at the trade station on Cephelos IV." A smile then lifted his wrinkly cheeks up. "Until then, though, he'll have the solitary cell next to you, Mr. Certain. I'll be down, of course, to talk some more about the old days..." Kalvin absorbed this news, and responded by making more tiny strangulated sounds. "Everyone ready, then?" Toni asked. Buzz and Satik nodded. Kalvin grunted. She turned to Steve. "Goodbye, Captain Vogel. Hopefully we'll meet again soon." "The pleasure's mine," Steve replied, in a tone he hoped was more suave than effeminate. He then stepped back as Toni tapped her wrist-transceiver. "_Zenyetta Mondatta,_" Toni said. "Four to transmat, identified by beacons. Acknowledge." "Acknowledged," came the reply. Toni, Satik, Buzz, and Kalvin then gradually disappeared from the bridge in a haze of cheap-looking special effects. "Well, then," said Steve, after a few moments silence. "Time to head to Earth, then." "Aye, sir," said Commander St. Thomas. "Er, sir, what about..." She finished by pointing to a space just behind Steve. "Lucky seems to have shown no ill effects from eating and then tossing up an ur-bagel from the beginning of time," said Steve, as he glanced at the massive shaggy pile of black fur. Lucky paused in the un-unseeable act of bathing himself long enough to give him a disdainful snort. "I meant..." She pointed again. Steve stifled an effeminate shout, having not realized that Megabot was hovering so closely behind him. The massive, menacing red robot hummed as innocently as it could, its single crimson eye slowly pulsing. "Er, yes," said Steve, rallying to take command of the situation. "Megabot. I received your crew application. I... suppose, being down a good number of crewmembers, we do need a bit of support in security." Megabot bobbed happily at the news. "So... um... Security Crew... bot Megabot," said Steve. "Welcome aboard. For your first task, um..." "Alert," chimed the _Challenger III's_ computer system. "Floor wax deployed on level 4. Floor wax deployed on level 4. All personnel warned to be cautious." Steve grimaced, then looked at Jean St. Thomas. "Spaulding, I'll bet," he said. St. Thomas nodded. Steve looked back up at Megabot. "Right, then. Your first task... subdue Spaulding and his crew and sit on them until we're back in Earth orbit and we can get them back to their space station." Megabot's head whirled--Steve presumed out of delight--and it and the rest of the robot bolted for the lift. As soon as Megabot was gone, St. Thomas gave Steve a questioning look. "It'll keep both him and them busy," Steve said. "I hope." She nodded. "Orders, then, Captain?" "Time to head home," said Steve. "Alert," chimed the computer, "New security robot on level 4 has been temporarily blinded by fire containment foam. Do not approach him or comment on how his foam has been sculpted to look like a corset." "Past time," Steve added. "Oh, yes sir," Jean answered. -~-_- Meanwhile, on the spacegoing Pinto, still in 'current' time (or, as current as time can be in overly-hyped space) Ronald Hastings set the Pinto's controls on automatic and leaned back in his seat. "Captain's log," Ronald said, while the computer cleverly disguised as a battered stereo tape deck recorded his words. "We should be arriving at Time Police Academy in six hours, forty-one minutes. Our mission to rescue Commandant Zark Flyby was a resounding success. He is now comfortable and unconscious in the trunk of this vehicle, with all traces of the earlier cosmic powers he displayed gone. Once the Commandant has been returned to Time Police Academy, we will return to Interstellar University, where my crew and I will turn in our report on the successful conclusion of this Senior Project." The man in the passenger seat, a self-styled hero named Sajon, glanced in the back seat. "Should your crew add anything to the report?" he asked. Ronald looked in his rear-view mirror. In the Pinto's back seat, his crew--a.k.a. his best friend, Norman Sassafras--was having an earnest, whispered conversation with the space ingenue--Kissy Hitowers--they'd hired to assist them at the start of the project. Somehow, despite the general unlikelihood of the connection and the specific disavowal that such a connection might even happen in the contract they'd signed, romance had blossomed between Norman and Kissy, a fact that Ronald regarded with absolutely no jealousy whatsoever. "Er," said Sajon, "you're crushing your steering wheel." Ronald blinked, and removed his hands. Sure enough, the parts of the wheel where his hands had been were thinner and somewhat mangled looking--which was more of an indicator of the quality of Pinto parts than Ronald's hand strength. He sighed. "It can be a frustrating life, being a Space Hero," said Ronald. "I'm sure you can identify with that." "I'll say," Sajon answered. "I don't suppose you know any cute women at Interstellar University, do you? After giving it some thought, I've decided it's time to really apply myself to becoming a Space Hero like you." Ronald experienced, at that moment, the new thrill of actually being looked up to. He gave his best, most Kirk-like grin before replying. "As it happens, I'm graduating soon, but if you're looking for mentors, I think we can handle that. Right, Norman?" "Hmmm?" asked Norman. "Oh, um... sure." He went back to whispering. Just then, the Pinto violently shuddered. The boring grey expanse of overly-hyped space did not change, per se, but Ronald thought he saw the Pinto's hood quiver. Sajon saw it as well. "Um, looks like that came from the trunk," he said, as he looked over the viewscreen built into what had been the glove box. "Should it be doing that?" The Pinto shuddered again. Kissy screamed. "Kissy!" Norman exclaimed. "It's all right! Toni's engineer's upgraded the trunk to hold a Mark VI U-SLEEP-NAO time dilation capsule. She figured just in case Zark's tranquilizers weren't strong enough, it'd keep him from causing damage. It's got to be something else..." Kissy screamed. "Kissy!" Norman exclaimed. "What is it?" Kissy blinked. "Oh... I've just always found 'something else' to be worth screaming about. Professional instinct." Just then, 'something else' squirmed out from between the rear seat cushions. Kissy screamed, on principle. It was a small robot that resembled a wind-up toy. As it floated up and away from Kissy and Norman, it emitted a long series of gleeps and squeaks. "Hi, TH1K1!" Sajon exclaimed, plucking the robot out of the air and giving it a warm embrace. TH1K1 added a low series of electronic noises that, to Ronald, had a sort of ominous tone. "What's going on?" he asked. "TH1K1 must have been investigating what was causing the noises back there," said Sajon. "I'm sure he must have fixed i... uh oh." "Uh oh?" asked Ronald. "There's been a sort of... um... containment breach... thingie," said Sajon. "Zark's kind of gotten... out." There was silence as everyone considered this news. A second later, there was ear-clutching as everyone who was not Kissy tried to consider this news while avoiding being deafened by Kissy's screams. Ronald thought... what would his hero, Captain James T. Kirk, do in this situation? Kissy would probably object to being made out with, at least by him. He couldn't get back into the trunk while the Pinto was in overly-hyped space, and he strongly doubted that karate- chopping Sajon or Norman would help matters, as tempting as it felt. Shatner had always made it seem so *easy*... He paused. *Shatner.* Of *course!* "Computer!" he yelled. "Activate emergency CD archive! Playback area confined to Trunk Level! William Shatner! I am the Walrus!" "Working," said a voice from the Pinto's stereo deck. Moments later, the mellifluous sounds of William Shatner singing "I am the Walrus" drifted from the trunk. Everyone who had removed their hands from their ears immediately clapped them back again. More violent thumps came from the trunk. Sajon watched the readout, then said something. "What?" asked Ronald. He risked removing a hand from his right ear. "Zark has gone unconscious," Sajon said. "I don't think his mind could cope with the sheer atonality." "Computer," said Ronald, "volume down to one quarter level. Return to previous level if subject in trunk shows signs of consciousness." "This is Zark we're talking about," Kissy noted. "Okay," said Ronald. "Signs of awakeness, then. Got that, computer?" "Affirmative." Sajon let out a sigh of relief. TH1K1 let out a series of squeals that Ronald could have sworn had a sour tone, as if the robot had deliberately sabotaged the containment unit in an attempt to kill them all--something Ronald knew could not be the case, given what a good, loyal bot TH1K1 was. "Quick thinking, Ron," said Kissy. "Zark could've easily destroyed this craft." "That's right," Norman affirmed. "Hey, you think we should get those under-seat tele-transport modules we were talking about as a backup safety system? I know they're expensive, but..." "I think we should," Ronald agreed. "With all the money we've made in trading in pudding futures, we can easily upgrade the hell out of this Pinto, or buy ourselves a real kickass starship." Norman grinned, then turned back to Kissy. TH1K1 rested in a cup holder, looking as if he was sulking about something. Sajon started humming a tuneless tune, prompting Ronald to put on the radio. *sqlllrrrrk* "--in financial news, investors are panicking today as pudding futures collapse on the interstellar trading exchanges, wiping out fortunes in the blink of an eye. News from the Zeta Ricola Beta system confirms that, with the collapse of the governing monastic authority, the system's control of the pudding market has also collapsed, as former officials cashed in their shares to buy legal representation--" *sqlllrrrrk* Silence reigned in the car for several moments. "I *do* hope the check you guys wrote me cleared," said Kissy. Ronald sighed. "Computer... check our finances." "Working." Computery sounds came from the stereo speakers for six seconds. "Last check cleared was check to Miss Hitowers." "Current balance, computer?" "Working." More computery sounds ensued, but only silence followed. "Computer?" "Laughing." Computery sounds came. "Ha ha ha ha ha." Ronald sighed. Norman sighed. TH1K1 perked up a bit. "I don't suppose," he said, "there's been a pickup in hiring of Space Heroes, has there?" "Still laughing. Ha ha ha." "Don't worry, Ron," said Norman. "It could be worse. Someone could get the idea to completely reboot the Star Trek movie series, overthrowing decades of continuity to show the Enterprise crew as a bunch of twentysomethings who don't sweat all that heavy philosophy stuff while they go around blasting enemies and getting undressed around one another." Ronald and Norman shuddered at the very idea. "It'll never happen," said Ronald, glad there was at least one constant in life he could hold on to. He set the controls, leaned his seat back a bit, and settled in for a nap. The Pinto continued flying through overly-hyped space toward its destination, and for a time, all was well. -~-_- Elsewhere, also in overly-hyped space in 'current' time, the Warp Ship _Universal Solvent_ flew along, its n-core Spam Pod efficiently and quietly converting Spam to power. On the bridge, its crew members were conducting an important ceremony, one that would have important ramifications for the future. "You've got to find more credit chips!" Benjen insisted. "How are you going to gain entry to Madame Latrelle's House of Illicit Ways to Abuse Bubble-Wrap?" "Yeah," said Gham, as she made marks on a scorecard. "Barbados, Planet of Physical Delights is many things, but 'cheap' isn't one!" "I, Bagelos, am convinced your couch does not contain any more change!" the Space Villain named Bagelos declared. "I, Bagelos, am also convinced that I, Bagelos, have found all the credits in every junk drawer, storage hold, and empty pizza box on this vessel. How can there be any more?" "Friend Bagelos," the wzaxtil named Quooth said, "fear not! >From what we have been told, we have far to go in the art of shaking down our surroundings for loose change. Friends Gham, Jerriphrrt, and Benjen are masters!" "Slithis was the best at it," said Jerriphrrt, as he sipped from a beer he was holding with his prehensile furry tail. "I'm pretty sure the volume of change he was able to get out of that couch over the years exceeds the actual size of the couch..." "I wonder how he's doing now," Gham mused. "Him and Shadebeam." "As I told you," Quooth answered, while fiddling with phis Holy Harmonica, "they went through a cosmic portal to altiverse 000SUPERGUY, to the point where the ABPSARI originally pulled friend Shadebeam to our altiverse, 001SFSTORY." "That doesn't tell us what happened after," Benjen noted. "We'll have to work on getting in touch with them, in between rubdown sessions in the Mind-Expansion Saunas of the Southern Desert." He looked at Gham's notes. "Which at the moment seem well beyond our ability to afford." "I believe I know of a way to help," said Quooth. Bagelos, who knew what forms the wzaxtil's help could take, immediately dove beneath the table that Gham, Benjen, and Jerriphrrt were seated around. The tune that came from Quooth's Holy Harmonica only seemed, on the surface, like a Bruno Mars song as rendered by tubas, chainsaws, and weasels in heat. It was only later that Quooth explained that it was his people's Song of Added Value, which had been written as a paean to the virtues of social marketing and the spiritual delights of search engine optimization. When Quooth was done, phe put the Holy Harmonica down and started feeling about the couch. Phe soon pulled out several credit chits. "Hey," said Bagelos, "you never told me you could do that." "When we were on the Planet of Casinos," Quooth answered, "there seemed no need. After all, money was all around." "These chits, combined with our other monetary resources, have enough credit on 'em to buy us a landing berth for four days," said Jerriphrrt, as he examined them. "Plus suitable accommodations, libations, and recuperations." "I was hoping for more than four days," said Bagelos. "There's always the pay-with-work program," Gham noted. "Which is not as fun as it sounds--that's how they get people to do all the necessary, not-physically-delightful work of keeping a planetary economy going." She smiled, a faraway look in her eyes. "Though they had some really big... compensation packages." Jerriphrrt snorted. She stuck her tongue out at him, then grinned. "Here's an idea," Benjen interrupted. "How about we take all this money, here, and... go someplace else." Bagelos, Jerriphrrt, and Gham regarded him as if he had grown a nipple on his forehead. Quooth began cleaning phis Harmonica. "I mean it," said Benjen. "This ship's not likely to last much longer, especially now that the cosmic fiber-thingie that we never knew was in it in the first place keeping it all together is gone now. When it goes, so does our space salvage business. Maybe we... well, maybe we ought to start thinking about where we're really going from here." "I, Bagelos, am going to conquer the universe," Bagelos declared. "Is that what you're talking about?" "Well, sort of," said Benjen. "I mean, it's all well and good to *say* you're going to conquer the universe, but that's doesn't tell you much about what to do with your last 323 credits." "One of my conquest plans requires with a mere 6.3 billion credits to buy a used asteroid-redirector..." "So what is *your* plan, friend Benjen?" asked Quooth. "Yeah," said Jerriphrrt. "What's your big idea?" Benjen grinned. "Entertainment!" Silence, and much blinking, followed. "I mean," Benjen went on, "we get in with one of the big entertainment channels, like the Extra-Sensory Perception Network. You and me, Jerr, we used to work in that field when we were in 000SUPERGUY. What we do is we get some work at a regional branch for some local sim-news outlet, maybe editing or signal-gathering, or something like that, build up some real cash, and then strike out on our own." "What?" asked Gham. "How is that different from now?" "I mean, launch our own concept!" Benjen raved. "A new channel, or an entertainment idea no one's ever conceived of yet! We'll make billions! What do you say?" More silence followed. "I, Bagelos, think my idea's more realistic," Bagelos said. "I don't think that's going to be my road," Gham told him. "As for my husband..." Jerriphrrt shook his head. "I can't see it. I was glad when we left that life before... it's not something I want to go back to." "I expect to fulfill my quest," Quooth noted. "And possibly appear in a music video with Beyonce." Benjen nodded, as if he had expected these reactions. "It sounds like this may be... it. We're all going to go our separate ways at long last. No more adventures together. No more saving the universe, or high-flying adventures desperately trying to evade horrifying monsters or cosmic-powered morons or three-mile-wide pies or what have you. It's over. Finis. The end." Gham nodded. "That's about the size of it." She looked at Jerriphrrt, who smiled and took her hand. "Which means the planet we land on next is likely to be our last, as a group." "And I, Bagelos, just got here," Bagelos grumbled. "Pardon, friends," said Quooth, "but, given that all this is true... does that not mean our next destination *should* be Barbados, Planet of Physical Delights?" "Er..." Benjen started. "After all," Quooth went on, "if we are to go our separate ways soon, should it not be on a world dedicated to making any occasion as pleasurable as possible?" Benjen thought about this. The others did as well. Moments later, the _Universal Solvent_ was on course for Barbados, and the couch--and everyplace else on the ship--was getting a considerable what-for in the search for the Last of the Loose Change. -~-_- "...and that's why I have this," said Jerriphrrt, as he gestured to the free-floating Justin Bieber head about three feet above him and two feet to his left. "A souvenir from our last visit to Barbados, for which the money we got from selling the _Universal Solvent_ for scrap only just covered the treatment expenses. Fortunately, it only comes out around this time of year--it's just a little warped patch in the sky the rest of the time. That's why, when we have The Talk with our kids, I'm going to make sure they know how to play safely to avoid contracting an S.T.B." Benjen scratched his goatee. He looked at the floating Bieber head. "S.T... B?" "Never mind that," said Gham. "How've you been, dear? It's been thirteen years since the last scene, and we're so glad you were able to come to this, our reunion picnic, here at our home on Vilamix III." She exhaled. "Wow... exposition's harder than I remember." "Not doing bad," Benjen answered. He adjusted the collar of his expensive-looking silk tunic. "Bit hotter here than I'd imagined." "Have some beer," said Jerriphrrt, handing him an unlabeled bottle. "I brewed it earlier this summer." They drank, while surveying the fields that ranged beyond Jerriphrrt and Gham's enviro-dome home. Some were dedicated to crops of various kinds, while others were grasslands where cows, sheep, and potatoes grazed. (Vilamix III is famous for the quality of its farm- bred, ambulatory potatoes, the creation of a Space Villain with too much free time on his hands and not enough oxygen getting to his brain.) Three adolescents--Jerriphrrt and Gham's children--were riding six-legged horses and chasing one another a few fields over. "You've done well for yourselves, too," said Benjen. "Seems really peaceful here." "Managing these lands isn't as easy as it looks," said Gham. "Even though it's mostly keeping the robots that do the work in line, and a lot of accounting and marketing. Plus some of the orders we receive from our Social Media Overlords are kind of strange." "Huh," said Benjen. "And I said Bagelos's Real Life Farmville idea would never work. How is he, by the way?" "Working on step two of his plan to conquer the universe," Jerriphrrt answered, after taking a swig. "It's the first time ever he's had enough money to get beyond step one of any of his plans, and he's discovering it's not so easy to keep a deadly space armada supplied as he thought. Last I knew, he'd rented out his personal death cruiser to the Koch Brothers in order to replenish his stock of planet-destroying missiles." "Ron, Norman, and Sajon stopped in a few months back," Gham said. "They've tracked Dark Lord Abrams through several galaxies, and they're pretty sure they'll catch him soon. Kissy and her sons were with them, and you would not believe their screams..." "Heard anything from Quooth?" "Last e-mail we got said phe was back on phis homeworld," Jerriphrrt replied, "having finally completed phis larger quest. Of course, phe never said what that *was*, exactly. Dr. Spleen went through a convoluted series of adventures with time agent 357, and survived them mostly intact and occasionally sober. Steve Vogel recently retired from captaining the _Challenger III_. The space station Freedonia 5 is still in orbit around Earth, though I think Captain Spaulding and his crew have wandered off. Buzz and Toni are still about, keeping galaxies safe from Space Villains. Kalvin Certain's directing a holo-miniseries of his life story from prison. Zark Flyby retired from the Time Police Academy and went back to Zeta Ricola Beta..." "That explains all those news stories about people fleeing that system," Benjen interrupted. "Quite," said Jerriphrrt. "And... that's all I can think of, off the top of my head. Gham?" "We still haven't heard from Slithis or Shadebeam," she answered. "I wonder..." She stopped, on seeing Benjen's sudden grin. "Okay... what do you know, mister?" Benjen reached into his coat pocket. "Well, you all know how I made *my* fortune, right? By marketing viral videos of cats doing cute and/or strange things?" "If by 'cats' you mean 'nubile sentients of various species and genders wearing cat-ears, cat-tails, and nothing else,' then sure," Gham said. "Well," Benjen went on, "I took my initial profits--after paying back all I owed to Madame Latrelle on Barbados--and bought a small company that was doing some very keen work on making inter-altiversal communication a functional reality. It's not easy, but we've made strides in making it both portable and only slightly insanely energy- consumptive. And thanks to the Sage, and a few of our old friends still in the holovision business back in 000SUPERGUY, I was able to get some receivers down to the version of Earth over there, and... well, just look." The disc, which was about the size of a coffee saucer, hovered in the air after Benjen withdrew his hand. Above it, light shimmered in a variety of funky colors, finally resolving into holographic shapes. "Amoeba, amoeba, amoeba," Gham and Jerriphrrt chanted. "Hush, kids," said Benjen. "It's syncing now... ah." Abruptly, the hazy shapes resolved into two holographic people. One was that of a human female of Asian descent, with long blonde hair, sharp eyes, and a smoker's mouth that seemed etched with a knowing smirk. The other was of a reptilian humanoid with scales that continually shifted color. After blinking a couple times, it became clear that they could see right back at those viewing, because they immediately started screaming. "No!" Benjen exclaimed. "It's not really Justin Bieber! It's just a phantom floating Bieber head!" They stopped screaming and considered this. "How does that make it any less scary?" asked Slithis, the more reptilian of the two. "Man," said Shadebeam, the more mammalian of the two, "we should not have done this the morning after the end of Burning M00se." She shook her head. "So, how's tricks, you guys?" "Great!" Jerriphrrt answered. "I... um, how long do we have, Ben?" "These are powered by micro pink holes," Benjen said. "They're beta models, so they'll probably only last a couple days, but once we're up and running--" "Pink holes?" "Super-dense spam," Benjen said. "Dr. Spleen's invention. Massive quantities of spam subjected to gravitational implosion. So powerful that not even putridity can escape." "Well, then," said Gham. "Let's never mind that. What's been going on? Slithis, what's going on with your scales?" Slithis nodded, as if expecting this to be the first question. "You're never going to believe this..." SFSTORY. It may stop, but it never ends... just like... SUPERGUY! -~-_- Author's afterword: Thank you for reading these tales. Hard to believe, but Sfstory's been around for over 26 years now (the last 13 of which I've been working on this serial). This is, most likely, the last thing I'll write for Sfstory (though not necessarily for Superguy), which may explain why it took me so long to finish. (Actually, I was busy writing other things. But we can pretend, can't we?) I'm hoping it's not the last anyone writes for SFStory. But either way... we had a good run, eh? Don't forget, these stories are archived on my Sfstory site: http://sfstory.garywolson.com . I can't promise this archive will be around forever, but I can promise that as long as I draw breath and can pay my web hosting bill, it will be. (When I become a cyborg and no longer need oxygen, though, all bets are off!) -- Copyright (c) 2013 Gary W. Olson, All Rights Reserved. -- Gary W. Olson swede at garywolson dot com Gary on the Web: http://www.garywolson.com/ Sfstory Archives: http://sfstory.garywolson.com/ SG/SF LiveJournal: http://superguy-list.livejournal.com/ SG/SF Dreamwidth: http://superguy.dreamwidth.org/ SG/SF Facebook: http://www.facebook.com/group.php?gid=47273370926