SF: Universal Solvents #13

[Gary]

                                UNIVERSAL SOLVENTS
                               (a Tale of Sfstory!)
                                    Episode 13
                                     "Hazel"
                                       by
                                  Gary W. Olson

                                      -~-_-

<<Deep space (Goornashk Sector)>>

      The one thing that could be said for the bridge of the Goornashk 
ship, Jerriphrrt thought, was that it was roomy.  Some part of that 
was the simple necessity for ample space for a crew comprised of 
six-legged, three-armed beings, but the greater part, as far as he 
could discern, was for the conveniences that Goornashks felt were too 
important to do without, even for a moment.
      "Is everything set?" he heard Gham ask.
      One of the Goornashks, who was tending a workstation next to the 
main viewer, turned towards them and blinked several times.  The 
resulting breeze caused by the being's astonishingly thick and hairy 
eyebrows made Jerriphrrt cough.
      "We have coordinates and fuel," the Goornashk reported. 
"Falsification of travel logs is almost complete.  Sleeping quarters 
for yourself and your husband are in process of modification.  They 
should be complete in two hours."
      "Where's Major Lalan?" Jerriphrrt asked.
      "Sulking, sir," the Goornashk said.  "In the Captain's office."
      "Right," said Gham.  "Carry on with... whatever it is you're doing."
      "Stocking my mini-fridge and programming my TiVo."
      Jerriphrrt blinked.  "You have those?"
      "Of course."
      "At your workstation?"
      The Goornashkan somehow contrived a condescending expression 
upon its grey, noseless face.  "It would hardly be appropriate to go 
to one's quarters to catch up on one's favorite shows in the middle 
of a space battle, sir."
      "But--"
      "That's great," Gham interrupted.  "Carry on with that... thing. 
Um... which way is the Captain's office."
      When the Goornashk pointed out the correct direction, Gham 
grabbed Jerriphrrt's arm and dragged him along.
      "It's probably not a good idea to antagonize them," she whispered.
      "Antagonize?" he asked.  "I was only wondering--"
      "We've got them by the short hairs now," said Gham, "but that 
could change if things don't go right.  And other than the Major, the 
rest of them seem fairly reasonable."  They dodged around two 
Goornashks who were busy aligning sensors and running communications 
tests whilst simultaneously engaging in a spirited game of ping-pong. 
"Besides, having an Xbox wired to the main viewscreen isn't a bad 
idea.  Beats streaking stars all to heck."
      "Right," said Jerriphrrt, filing the idea away for someday when 
they had more money, freedom, and absence of people who wanted to 
kidnap their friends.  "As for the Major... you think he'll 
cooperate?"
      "His crew's already cooperating without him," said Gham.  "He'll 
have to if he wants to stay in command."
      "That's kind of... a messy situation," Jerriphrrt replied.
      Gham paused before the door to the office, turned, and kissed him.
      "Admit it," she whispered.  "You like it when it gets messy."
      "Well, some things," he replied.  He thought back to the last 
time they had been on their ship, the W.S. Universal Solvent, and his 
premonition that things were about to go very wrong, that the lack of 
chaos in the past few years was just a sign that the universe was 
saving up something really whacked for them.  Had that been just that 
very morning?  Or years ago?
      "Come on," said Gham.  "Let's deal with him and get it over with."
      Jerriphrrt nodded and gave her nose a playful lick.  Gham 
wrinkled her nose, then swatted him just below the base of his tail.
      The door whooshed open as soon as they pushed the 'Make 
Whooshing Noise' button next to it, and it whooshed again when it 
closed behind them.  Jerriphrrt's eyes took a moment to adjust to the 
lower light level.
      "I won't do it," said a voice from the far corner of the office. 
"You can't make me, you know."
      "Major..." Gham started.
      "Don't try to persuade me," said Lalan.  Jerriphrrt could make 
out his shape now, behind a desk that looked as if it had every 
electronic time-wasting device known to sentient life installed in 
one place or another.
      "If this is about the pudding..."
      "It is not!" Lalan exclaimed.  "Have you forgotten?"
      "Forgotten what?" Jerriphrrt asked.
      "Mister Funboy!"
      The outline of Lalan's massive eyebrows reminded Jerriphrrt of 
hula skirts, which were apparently being jiggled by inebriated hula 
ghosts.  That Lalan was agitated was beyond question.  What would 
soothe him was questionable.  Jerriphrrt wanted to suggest a hedge 
trimmer, but doubted that would go over well.
      "Mister Funboy," said Gham.  "Your laser rifle, which you 
brandished at us when you first captured us."
      "Yes!" Lalan exclaimed.  "Funboy, who I built from a pup! 
Funboy, who was cruelly carved up by your evil allies on the 
_Challenger III_!  Funboy, who did not deserve to be cut down in the 
prime of life!  Funboy--"
      "Er, yeah," said Jerriphrrt.  "That Funboy.  About him--"
      "The crew on the _Challenger III_ was able to repair him," Gham 
interrupted.  "Once you've successfully smuggled us into the 
high-security facility on planet Mydrus, and once we've taken down 
the security grid so that Steve Vogel and his crew can take over the 
transmat systems, the new and improved Funboy will be yours."
      Jerriphrrt had to clamp his jaw shut to keep from gaping. 
They'd both seen the crew sweep up the pieces and dump them into the 
nearest trash bin--
      "You lie," said Lalan, in a small, unsure tone.
      "You'll get that," Gham continued, "and what we promised to the 
rest of your crew."
      "All the pudding we can swim in," Lalan said, a tremor entering 
his words.  "Regardless of cost, or availability, or swimming pool 
regulations.  But I... I don't know whether I should believe you...."
      The pudding part was true, Jerriphrrt knew.  At least, it had 
sounded true when Steve Vogel promised it to the Goornashks in their 
cell.
      "Pudding is life," said Lalan.  "And life is pudding."
      "Riiiiight," said Gham.  "So are you with us...?"
      Lalan scratched his chin.
      "Very well," he finally said.  "I will get this ship, and you, 
past the security patrols to Mydrus.  But if you fail in fulfilling 
your promises... all the pudding in the universe will be your tomb!"
      With that, Lalan lurched past them, through the whooshing doors, 
and onto the bridge.
      "Um, Gham..." Jerriphrrt said as the doors whooshed shut.
      "We need him," said Gham.  "I don't like lying to him any more 
than you do.  I was thinking that if we can get a message to Steve, 
he can have something suitable ready in three days, about when we get 
to Mydrus."
      "Three days," Jerriphrrt repeated.  "Are you sure relying on 
their religious fixation on pudding is a better goad than a threat 
that we'll detonate their ship if they don't get us where we're 
going?"
      "It was your plan."
      "Oh, right."
      Jerriphrrt reached out and found Gham's back.  He slid one arm 
around her waist, leaned down, and kissed her.  Slowly, this time.
      In case things weren't done going wrong.

                                      -~-_-

<<Zeta Ricola Beta>>

      It was the room that was giving phim the feelings.  Quooth was 
sure of that.  Maybe not the room in particular, but the *kind* of 
room it was.  Again phe raised phis Holy Harmonica to phis mouth. 
Would friend Bagelos understand?
      Quooth began to play, on the Harmonica, the Song of Lonely 
Longing for Being Unconscious While Being Splashed With Water and 
Then Explaining To the Prime Minister That No, the Goat Just Likes 
You.  It was a song fiercely cherished by all Wzaxtil for its subtle 
melody, the piquancy of the emotions it evoked, and how merely 
playing it could clear the sinuses of everyone in a sixty meter 
radius.
      To Bagelos, it sounded merely like the sort of lonely harmonica 
wobble that was practically mandatory as background music in a jail. 
Quooth watched as he sat down on the cot and clutched his head.
      "What do you think they'll do to us, Quooth?" asked the 
entrepreneurally-challenged would-be space villain.  "I, Bagelos, 
tried to explain why we came to Zeta Ricola Beta, but no one wanted 
to listen.  And here we are, finally, on this legendary world, 
following in my grandfather's footsteps, so close to the answers and 
yet so far."  He paused, and sniffed.  "Hey, my sinuses are draining."
      Quooth continued the Song, stopping only a minute later, when 
the cell door opened.  A grey-skinned, bald, gnomelike humanoid with 
disturbing features (disturbing because the Wzaxtil race has no 
concept of, and consequently no words to express, "kind of like 
Freddie Prinze Jr.") waddled into the room, accompanied by two 
grey-skinned, balding, but entirely ungnomelike guards.  The 
gnomelike being neither smiled nor regarded them with anything less 
than contempt mixed with suspicion.
      "Hi!" Quooth exclaimed, just as the being opened his mouth.  "My 
name is Quooth, and it is an honor to meet you, sir or madam or both 
or neither, as the case may be!  This is my good friend, Bagelos, and 
we are on a great quest that has brought us to this charming jail 
cell on this charming planet!  Please, sit with us and tell of the 
many wonders you have on this world, and if there are any horlekkian 
fire ants on the dinner menu!"
      The being closed his mouth and stared at Quooth for several 
seconds.  He opened his mouth again, only to be interrupted by 
Bagelos.
      "Never mind him," said Bagelos.  "If you're here to interrogate 
us, forget it.  I, Bagelos, will tell you nothing!  No matter how 
much you torture Quooth, I, Bagelos, will never reveal our purpose in 
coming here--"
      "You're here," said the gnomish being, " because your 
grandfather, the space villain known as Baconos, came here decades 
ago, in search of a power with which he could take over the universe, 
and you were hoping you could succeed where he failed."
      Now it was Bagelos's turn to open his mouth but not speak.
      "My name is Sark Flyby," said the small being.  "It may interest 
you to know that I was there when Baconos landed on our world.  This 
was an undefended world, then, and this place you are in now, 
Daaksvong, was the home of a small order of monks.  Baconos forced us 
to reveal the deeply hidden secrets of our order, and he used that 
knowledge, along with the knowledge he acquired throughout his many 
years of pursuing space villainous schemes, to seek ultimate power."
      Bagelos only nodded.  "Yeah, that was gramps.  He'd tell me all 
his old war stories, about him and Hutch Williams and all the times 
he'd come within a hair of universal domination.  He told me about 
this one, too."
      "Which is why you are here," said Sark.  "With the one piece of 
the puzzle Baconos lacked: the ship you came in.  The so-called W.S. 
Universal Sovent.  The True Saucer."
      "I, Bagelos, hoped to succeed where he failed," Bagelos replied.
      Sark shook his head and gave a mirthless smile.
      "But he did succeed."
      "Hooray!" shouted Quooth, startling both Sark and Bagelos. 
Before either could do anything about it, Quooth raised phis Holy 
Harmonica and played a jaunty celebration tune that had quite an 
effect on Sark and the guards.  Phe stopped and looked up at Bagelos.
      "Is bleeding from the ears the way they express joy?" phe asked.
      Bagelos, in the process of relieving the guards of their 
personal nukers, shrugged and said "I, Bagelos, have no doubt that is 
the case.  But perhaps we should make good our escape, so that we may 
spread joy to ourselves."
      "Hooray!" shouted Quooth.  He played another jaunty celebration 
tune, this time causing Bagelos to clutch his ears.
      "Enough!" Bagelos exclaimed.  "I, Bagelos, am in charge, and I, 
Bagelos, say it is time to move quietly!"
      "Oooh," said Quooth.  "Does that mean no horlekkian fire ants for dinner?"
      "We will see," said Bagelos.
      "Hooray!" shouted Quooth, as phe ran past Bagelos and into the 
corridor beyond the cell door.  Behind phim, Quooth heard Bagelos 
mutter curses in several languages.

                                      -~-_-

<<Alpha Rio VI (The Planet of Casinos)>>

      Slithis hadn't realized how tired he had been until he sat down. 
All at once, the fatigue poisons in his body, which had up until that 
point been kept lively and swirly by all the bizarre turns his day 
had taken, fell on him like a blanket of meat.  He fumbled for the 
drink he had set on the ground just before sitting down, but could 
not find it.
      "Left," Shadebeam's voice instructed.  Not quite able to work 
out what 'left' meant in his present state of mind, he settled for 
swinging his hand about until he found the bottle.  After taking a 
swig of Supa-Fizz and letting his head roll aimlessly about his neck 
for a minute or so, he sighed and opened his eyes.
      "There was a time," he said, "when this wouldn't have fazed me at all."
      "You and me both," Shadebeam agreed.
      Slithis's head lolled to his left, the closest thing to a 
head-turn he could manage.  From what he could see, Shadebeam 
Moroboshi did not seem to be anywhere close to being as out of it as 
he.  Where he was hangdog tired, she seemed merely mellow, taking 
long and contemplative puffs on her cigarette while ignoring the beer 
in her other hand.  She didn't even seem bothered by the fact that 
she was only wearing a two-piece spandex bikini (festooned with 
sequins, ostrich feathers, and fresh fruit).  Slithis hoped it was 
less uncomfortable than the version that the ABPSARI had foisted upon 
him.
      "How's Sajon doing?" Slithis asked.
      Shadebeam glanced back through the sliding glass balcony doors.
      "He was sleeping when I came out here," she said.  "Poor kid.  I 
don't think home was a place he really wanted to visit again."
      "Did you believe what he told you about what they did to him?"
      Shadebeam nodded.  "It's weird, but it sort of makes sense. 
Bioengineering someone as an oddsbreaker just to have it done and 
have that person under control and not around to break the odds that 
the bioengineers don't want beat... yeah, sure.  I'll buy that.  Not 
the weirdest thing I've seen."
      "At least we don't have to worry about cash too much," said 
Slithis.  "We've got food, drink, a sleazy cash-only hotel room, 
thanks to all the coins that ejected from every slot machine he came 
near... now all we need are real clothes."
      "Tomorrow," said Shadebeam.  She smoked the last of her 
cigarette and flicked the butt into an ashtray.
      "Yeah," said Slithis.  He took another sip of Supa-Fizz and 
stared into the garish green-orange-reddish night sky.  There wasn't 
much of it to see, as they were in a small hotel surrounded by taller 
buildings, but it was easier on the eyes than looking at the 
buildings themselves.  "So... what's the plan?"
      "Plan?"
      "For getting out of here," said Slithis.  "Sajon said that was 
Vino the Three-Headed Yak's casino that we escaped from.  And Vino 
isn't the kind of Yak to not go after someone he's pissed at."
      Shadebeam shook her head.  "You can take off if you want.  I'm 
not leaving until I've got some answers as to what's going on."
      Slithis let the words bounce around in his head, hoping they 
would slow down long enough for them to make sense.  When they failed 
to do so, he asked the inevitable question.
      "Er, what?"
      "We're here for a reason," said Shadebeam.  Her eyes narrowed, 
as if she were trying to focus on that very reason.  "I don't think I 
was plucked out of the 000SUPERGUY altiverse and then subsequently 
replucked out to here completely at random.  And even if I was, I 
don't think it was completely by chance that Sajon got 'ported twice, 
just to get here to the planet where he was born.  And if I'm right, 
you're not here by chance, either."
      "Um," Slithis commented.
      Shadebeam looked up and met his eyes.  Slithis tried to blink 
but found he could not.  All at once, the fatigue left his head, and 
he could acutely feel the blood racing through his body.  It was hard 
to look at her and not see her as she had looked so long ago, a 
twenty-four-year-old woman with spiky blonde hair, bronze skin, a 
gold ear-to-nose chain, and enough attitude to blow out a year's 
worth of Firestone tires.  And seeing her like that, it was 
impossible not to think of what they had done in their time together, 
where they had done it, and how difficult it had been to clean the 
carpet afterward.
      The woman before him now was older (thirty-one, he guessed), had 
let her hair grow long (though it still remained blonde), and lacked 
an ear-to-nose chain.  But somehow, Slithis thought, that wasn't the 
biggest change the intervening years had wrought.
      Shadebeam broke off eye contact first.  She looked down, and 
Slithis was almost sure she was blushing.  Any doubt he had was due 
to his idea that there couldn't be anything that would make her blush.
      "Do you remember," she said, finally, "when we were together?"
      Oh, yes, he thought.
      "Kind of," he replied.  "It was a hectic time."
      "Right, right," she agreed.  "But you remember, right?"
      "Yeah."
      "And you remember the weird... um...."
      Slithis waited for her to finish her question.
      "Hey," she said.  "Can I ask you something personal?"
      "Like the last couple questions weren't?" Slithis asked.
      Shadebeam laughed.  Not a simple snicker, which he remembered 
her as her response of choice from the old days, but a real, clear 
laugh.
      "I was thinking about this," she said, "and I realized 
something.  You're not a mammal."
      Slithis blinked.
      "Yeah?" he said.
      "Well, obviously you're not a mammal," Shadebeam continued, 
"since you're green and scaley and reptilian and all.  But I seem to 
remember something about... well, how should I put this... how you 
could never be a UPS driver."
      "Pardon?"
      "Because you don't have a package."
      "Er," said Slithis, "I actually do.  It's just isn't obvious, 
like it is for mammals."
      "Oh," she answered.  "Right..."
      "Why are you trying to remember this?" Slithis asked.  "You 
don't... um... want to..."
      "No, no," Shadebeam said.  Slithis felt a twinge.  She'd said 
that far too quickly.  "It's just... well, it's like this.  When the 
ABPSARI teleported us to this planet, I had a sort of vision... 
thing.  A vast cosmic fight between various breakfast foods sometime 
in the early moments of the universe, or something like that. 
Shoon-Ma was part of it.  Then someone stealing energy from them all. 
Then... I don't know.  I just feel like the vision came to me because 
there's something I'm supposed to do about it, because there's 
something I *can* do about it.
      "And the thing is, this ain't the first time I had this vision. 
I've had it before -- years ago, when we were stoned to the gills and 
gettin' busy on the Red Emma."
      "Ah," said Slithis.  He thought back to the time.  "My memory of 
it is kind of hazy, too, and I saw a lot of strange things, but I 
don't remember Shoon-Ma being any part of them.  And even if I did... 
what's it to me?  I'm more interested in getting off this planet and 
finding Jerri and Gham and Benjen."
      "Benjen's involved, too," Shadebeam reminded him.  "He's still 
on Shoon-Ma's ship."
      "Well, yeah, but--"
      "But nothing," she interrupted.  "I-- Christ, I can't judge you 
or anything.  Back when I knew you, I had the same attitude.  I 
understand it.  It's just... I'm not that person anymore.  I went 
through a lot after I got whisked away from this altiverse and into 
000SUPERGUY, and... running away is something I don't do anymore.  It 
doesn't matter that I lost my magic-based abilities when I got 
whisked back here.  Not when there's something important on the line. 
Not when there's something I can do to make it come out right."
      Slithis said nothing.  He could see why she had, upon first 
meeting him in Shoon-Ma's ship, not been able to remember his name. 
He was part of a past she had left behind, a reminder of a past self 
she would just as soon forget existed.
      She drank a few more sips of her beer, then lit another 
cigarette.  Slithis finished his Supa-Fizz and set the bottle down.
      Twenty silent minutes passed.
      "I'm sorry about not remembering your name," Shadebeam said, 
finally.  "That must have hurt."
      Slithis sighed.  "It happens," he said.
      "I knew it started with an 'S'," she replied.  "I just blanked 
for a few seconds."
      "It's okay," he told her.  "It's not like..."
      He paused.
      "Not like what?" she prompted.
      Not like I've been thinking about you for years now, he thought. 
Not like I've been thinking that if I had the chance, I'd tell you 
everything I was too scared to say before.  Not like... no, not like 
that at all.
      "Not like it was the end of the world," he said.
      "Yeah," she agreed.  Again, a bit too quickly, to his mind.  She 
yawned and stubbed out her cigarette.  "I'm gonna try to get some 
sleep, if Sajon's snoring doesn't drive me up the wall."
      He watched her stand, watched her stretch.
      "Don't stay up too late," Shadebeam told him.  "No matter if you 
decide to help or not, you've got a busy day ahead of you."
      "Good night," Slithis said as she opened the sliding glass door.
      "'Night," she replied as she closed it.
      The balcony was silent.  He leaned back in his chair and looked 
up at the unnaturally garish sky.
      It's not like I'm still in love, he thought.  Not like that at all.
      He looked at her empty chair.  He glanced back at the sliding 
glass door, at the darkness of the room.  He looked back up at the 
sky and tried to think of something else.  Anything else.
      "Oh, needlewarp," he whispered.

WILL SLITHIS FEEL BETTER IN THE MORNING?
WILL SAJON STOP SNORING?
WILL QUOOTH ENTERTAIN BAGELOS WITH A HARMONICA RENDITION OF 'BLUEBERRY HILL'?
WILL BAGELOS STUFF BAGELS IN HIS EARS TO AVOID SUCH ENTERTAINMENT?
WILL JERRIPHRRT AND GHAM MAKE IT TO MYDRUS WITHOUT INCIDENT?
WILL MAJOR LALAN EVER AGAIN KNOW THE HAPPINESS THAT ONLY WIELDING A 
LARGE, PHALLIC, DEATH-SPITTING METAL OBJECT CAN BRING?

SFSTORY is as SFSTORY does.
--
Gary W. Olson
swede3000 at earthlink.net
The Sfstory Page: http://home.earthlink.net/~swede3000/index.html