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"Dimention 27"
Chapter one
a lot to do with advertising
Lock Downly the third was the last in a long line of space captains. His great grandfather the first Lock downly was known as the brilliant invention of the dimention jumper.
The same inventor was now known as Lock Downly senior. After whom Captain lock downly the first took over, followed by Lock Downly the seccond, Who was replaced by Captain Lock downly squared.
a clone of captain lock downly the seccond. and it was almost time for captain lock downly the third to walk in his fathers, granfathers, great grandfathers, and a clones, foot steps and Become a space captain and an inventor.
incidentally it is this captain lock downly (the third one)to whom, who, whoms?... its the guy whos we follow in this adventure..... not his cryogenicaly frozen great grandfather, grandfather, his granduncle the clone, or his father, whom although not frozen for tax reasons or to preserve death along with the first the lock downly's I assure you he is not whom ..who..
hes not the dude this books about, just the kids dad.
the original lock downly had invented a craft that not only proved the existance of dimentions noone knew existed nor were at the time attempting to prove. but also could transport you to these infinate number of dimentions.
These new dimentions had not been known to persons, aliens, potatoes, or celestrial entities (of which many were constantly claiming to be THE, A, or one of many gods and bullying us about to their liking.)
the entire potatoe bit we will get to but that at the moment we are talking about the wrong captain lock downly i sugest i finnish up this bit first.
The dimention jumper ship as it is now called. was able to quickly, quietly, and as long as there was a slight breeze, travel between dimentions. It did so without fuel or moving parts.
technically speaking it was less of a "SPACE SHIP" and more of a "PAPER AIRPLANE". Its just once the people down in advertising got to it they voted acordingly. knowing anything to do with travel in space or between dimentions would sell better with the name "DIMENTION JUMPER". instead of the ONE vote from the inventor to keep the name "MAGIC RAINBOW PAPER AIRPLANE". a title that it had sported when sold in the back of comic books between; "xray vision glasses", and "mr potatoe head". A toy that due to Mr downlys incredible invention would soon not be advertised.
other than noone knowing what the paper was made of, they widely accepted it worked and bought it by the stacks.
Walking between the folds of ones carefully constructed andbalanced paper airplane, one would be converted into the seccond dimention. An experience comprehendable to our minescule brains as living in the sunday funny pages somewhere between garfeild and kalvin and hobbes.
the paper airplane would then float in the breeze untill it found and slipped through a crack in space joining this and the dimention nextdoor slipped outofsight inside and proptly flew out rudely unanounced into your neighbours dimention on the other side.
the only complication finnaly overcome two generations back. Was the unnerving habit the swooping airplaneshad of sliding into your neighbours dimention, only to be fed through a paper shreader. an unforrtunate result and one that seemed to happen against all odds, more times than there were papershreaders. subsiquently the entire crew would perish. Their cries for help remained unread as speach bubles, and s.o.s. signals would not be seen untill the following sunday paper.
captain lock downly, the one we are actually talking about, not the one we have been talking about. was put through the space academy at his fathers instance and cost.
always having enjoyed cooking more than flying; Lock the third desired against wishes of his father to become a cheff.
waking one night to an infomercial telling him to... "reach out and grab your destiny. If you call now...." He made the decision then and there. he would find the most forbiden flavours of all the dimentions, and become the dimentions top cheff. His lifes work would be to prepare the ultimate tastextual sensation.
An hour later he stood at his fathers empty desk. Sliding a blue sheet of paper from under his dads paper weight, a pet rock with one of the googley eyes missing. a craft he had made him when he was 4.
folding the colourfull paper into a simple plane, he turned on the desk fan stepped into the ship. suddenly with noone holding it up the wind from the fan lurched the paper plane forward.
twisting about the room and dissapearing under the filecabinent and subsiquently the infinate dimentions of space.
In case you are wondering he did not place the call to order his own "golden coin portraying;
'Destiny' Australias 13th president, and five time runner up for miss outback beauty pagent.
@
Chapter two
where in the ultimate dish is served
and
some hippies watch the fire works
It was in the 27th dimention that lock downly found his calling, on the only planet in any dimention where potatoes could still be found and eaten.
as in all other dimentions they had evolved into centient beings and susiquently were therefor illegal to consume. A quarter century back many factions of potatoe people had banded together and demanded the removal of mr and mrs potatoe heads. claiming them to be offensive and racist.
since that the adirondack blue, red, golden, pink fir, yukon golden or even russet potatoe races have not been able to come together for any cause without fighting to distroy each other.
noone knows why yams did not evolve although several religions have been formed arround key concepts.
So it was dimention 27 with its one remaining planet on which potatoes could be grown picked and eaten.
it was here lock downly the third found his calling and began his lifes work. dimention 27
the 27th dimention.
i am attempting to enforce the dramatic and bizar oddity of it being the 27th dimention or captain and soon to be captains are to find themselves in. but on with it then i suppose
cheff lock had spent 6 years on this planet writing a recipie book dedicated to potatoes baked, fried, mashed, even hash browns. a dish that the inhabitants of this perticular planet ordered from him more than any other dish.
this recipie book he told all who cared slightly enough to ask. and most asked not so they didnt hurt his feelings but so he would shut up about it and bring them their food.
This" he would ramble loud enough for the rest of the dissinterested to hear...
"is my bible... its my lifes work, when i have completed my final recipie I will open the most gourme restaurant in all of dimention 27."
likely it would have taken him less than six years to write this book of 27 pages if it wasnt that the planet the had chosen to craft his lifes work on.
the reason the dinners would always order his hash browns.
was found in the title of the planet.
Planet hash.
The plannet, a giant ball of drugs. composed mainly of hash, has been created in an inter dimentional drug raid, once reaching planetary size it was fired into the sun.
Due to the sheer mass of drugs the plannet did not burn up and instead obtained orbit, the heated surface creating a breathable halusigenic atmosphere. news of the drug plannet spread, that inhabitants showed up by the masses.
A hazed population grew living in comunes and hostles, wearing hemp clothing and wipping their bums with hemp leaves. Dinning in cafees and restaurants, freequenting disco roller rinks, and a drive in theatre that on this day was playing "refer madness" followed by "the rocky horrow picture show". this is also the only day the theatre sells warm toast instead of popcorn.
and so was life on the planet hash.
the capital city was New New Ampsterdam. New arrivals stepped from their crafts, inhailled the rainbow coloured "air", immediately dissmissed any thought of ever leaving. forgot where they parked and what ship if any they had piloted, and walked off giggleing to get a bite to eat
cravings of food, hemped goods, hostles and communes, feed resources back into its own economy. they had no war they had no anger. untill the ERFS arrived.
It is on the day that the Giant sfhincter ship landed on the planet hash. The sphincter hovered over the planets surface. Solders were squeezed out, picked themselves off the ground, brushed the hash off themselves and gathered into formation.
all that saw did nothing to appose, passing a shfincter ship squeezing out hundreds of soldiers as an oviously wicked halusination. even when the formation of soldiers marched forward through dirt paths of new new ampsterdam firing randomly into cafe's hostles and disco roller dance rinks. most looked on with glazed interest, not even reacting to disintigration rays turning them to ooze.
On the other side of New New Ampsterdam
Cheff lock downly was sitting about to eat his ultimate dish.
A baked potatoe.
It was grown from the soil of the planet hash, absolute flavour bound to every molecule. every ingredient colected from the dimention known to its perfection. the only way to stop the flavour "INFECTING" the plate, utensil or hands of the dinner was to serve it in a non biodigratable styrofoam dish.
eat it with a 'plastikk spork.'
and clean it up with a radiation grade wet nap.
the devistating results of contact outside of oral use would cause you to digest your own extremedies. this steaming delight of tastebud ecstacy was awaiting cheff lock's injestion. while accross the streets of new new ampsterdam the EFR soldiers marched steadily closer.
the masses stood or sat along side the road admiring the beams of lights shot from the soldiers discintergration rays.
"OOOOOOOO......AAAAAAAAA" were the sounds of the motionless population as they continued to watch the fire works of their own slaughter. if one caught on and ran the others yelled "hey you missed one" "over there yeah over there "...and laughed when the fleeing person tripped or screamed when shot...." yeah!" "again" "hey over there too"...
row after row of them turned to ooze. the last cafe on the street was shot into, the last hippie had been killed. and the last remaining cafe crumbled to the ground. EFR soldiers stoped marching powered down their disintergration, ooze, rays and prepared to return to the giant sphincter ship from which they arrived.
Chapter three
in which our cheff dies at 421pm
and
a helpfull flashback takes place.
Lock shouted "YOU!" loudly to the soldiers who had moments before powerd down their guns and prepared to leave. dust and hashcloud smoke cloaking his figure amongst rubble.
"You!" he stood in wait, his white "kiss the cheff" apron covered in a pallett of hash flour, blood, sourcream and oozified ingredients. dust settled. behind him the last of the walls he remained inside for 6 years crumbled. his dream crumbled.
"... shplat....shplat.....shplat. ..." the noise of oozeing potatoe dripping through shaking fingers of a chenched fist. he clung to the oozified remains he clung to his dream. his mouth salivated. he clung to the desire NOT to suck the suculent dish off his fingers, not to lick his skin, not to knaw at... he clung to the desire to have both hands. again he demanded.
"who are you" for once in six years not a chuckle or giggle or cough in his now grainy deep voice.
The answer was robotic, computed, rehearsed and re reheased, one of likely only 4 responses or warnings the solders were given to respond. imprinted by memory clamps installed inside both nostrils. checked in one and rechecked in the other for the proper one of four verbal replies to an infinate number of questions ... spoken oncelistened too, recirclated through clamps. spoken againsentd through filter units in the air masks, sound traveling into molecular de and then re stableisers. finnaly played through a crackily speaker at the end of the trunk like gas mask hose.
"WE ARE THE EFR SOLDIERS MOB 376D" every soldier spoke at once and in unison echoing off down demolished streets....
save for one somewhere in the 3rd or 4th line who replied 'MOB 264WQ' at the end. as he did not shoot himself with his ooze gun for breaking programing. (something they were all programed to do). the logical explination was that he had just transfered mobs to fill a fatality.
"what is the EFR" shouted lock with lines after lines of soldiers turning back on and charging their ooze rays.
A moment passed data wirled through programed brains and in the same mass fashion the question has a aloud programed responce and so it was delivered.
"THE EFR IS THE ELITE.FEDERATION.OF.RON OUR HEAD COMANDER, ANY COMPLAINTS OF LOSS OF PROPERTY AND LIFE CAN BE DELIVED TO HIM AFTER CONFIRMATION OF DESINTERGISATION IS FILLED."
this time even the transfered soldier responded with syncronism as, to this , any mob unit of the EFR would answer the same.
with Responce given and confirmed broadcast, with no other programing to follow the soldiers prepared to fire.
cheff locks watch beeped. it was time to serve the 420 munchie rush. he was going to serve his ultimate dish. this Was going to be that day. fifteen minutes before he had mastered the baked potatoe dish. the ultimate baked potatoe. four of his first years away from home he traveled dimentions, sampleing spices and dishes most had never known were possible. even he had not known the spice blue to be able to not only explode in flavour but colour as well. a space that untill desolved in your mouth you saw the blueest sky, the bluest police box apear on the street corner, or the bluest bookback in your recipie book.
in the secconds the soldiers prepared to fire these years flashed by, the tastes, sights, his cook book, new dimentions and new tastes, everywhere he whent he would take his book of recipies and lifes dream. and his blue book mark. then he asked himself the right question. WHY DO I HAVE A BOOK MARK, MY BOOKS ONLY 27 PAGES.... he puzled.
his watch beeped three times now... "420", he whispered under his breath, "FOUR FREEKING TWENTY!" he shouted and began chuckling, "...and my book marks blue!" ... the shoulders checked this data...it did not have a programed responce they double checked in their other nostril and over took the entire process.
still laughing cheff lock downly the first looked over his shoulder. sure enough here came the 420pm hash front. Weather had no dicernment for a soldier firing or a patron buying warm toast for the matinae of rocky horror picture show. With a vail of penetrable cover Cheff LD bolted into the hash cloud. Dodging left and right as lights from ooze rays flew past him in all directions. cool book under his arm he pulled at his book mark. the blue bookmar shot from between the 27page cook book. He folded rapidly with his uninfected hand, bitting the seams and folds with his teeth... tumbleing over some rubble he fell head forwards dissapearing inside the crude creace.
Lazers ceased the front solder scanned the haze for lifesigns... with none shown a digital screen on his arm bliked to life, he checked a box reading 'confirmation of property and life desintergisation' double checked the time mark '421pm' and powered down the monitor. with that they turned and marched back into the waiting shpincter ship.
the ship contracted slightly tighter rumbled and then with a force of a thousand huricane winds passing from it. blasted off.
on the desolate planet of hash a bright blue hastily folded and unbalanced paper airplane soared through the toxic wind and clouds... looped, dove, twisted back up, then nose dove down, down DOWN.....inches above the ground vanishing.
The planet Hash was desolate lifeless and dead. the place smelt like ass.
the only planet in all dimentions where potatoes could be found and eaten had been whiped out.
on a paper bridge stood a colourfully animated lock downly the third, once again a captain, no longer a cheff. he buisily ran about with a pencil from his recipie book. outlining then shading in: displayscreens, consoles, and buttons,
a micro hull breach erased and everything drawn to his liking he relaxed. placing the pencil put back in its book, his lifes dream and work closed and ended. He tucked his bible in the breast pocket of his coat and took comand of the bridge..
a thought buble apeared above his head, the words rolled into place
"damn that will sober a guy up fast"
with that, the distruction of the ultimate tastextual sensation, check locks
lifes dream, the death of a cheff, and the rebirth of a captain. The EFR found its first real threat...
chapter 4
cracking some eggs
and 'shh' dont say a word.
accross the panitary abis close to the virgin shores of the water planet quite almost at the farthest folds of dimention 27, just off Needy Cove of the endless Virgin Isles the EFR shincter passes a derilict space vesil. a obsoleete russian war ship from the DeepSpaceColdWar. The sphincter ship pauses to inspect the craft, detirmening no inteligent life on board no weapons capable of penetrating the space sphincters orafas and no living crew members in the life capsule they categorise its serial number as space junk and move on. decending through orbit and forming a cannon ball and a big splash in the warm sumers ocean of the water planet.
on the beaches of the water planet just below the natural shelter of the forementioned virgin cove. soldiers rise up from out of the water, dissapearing mentarilly below water in waves as the march up and down over submerged sanddunes created by the gentle waves.
trunks twinging and floating along side. Some becoming quite tangled.
tangled trunks and soldiers tipping over sinking to the sandy waterbed.
not programed with boy scoutt space knotmanship binary code 101.
they lay on submerged sand and would remain untill air trunks malfunctioned if they were not swiftly trampled by those following two paces back. Onto the shores the mob apeared mush setting on their disintigration rays.
...onto shores of what to an uneducated being on the reproduction cycle of the water planet would be commonly yet wrongly mistake as turtle eggs. The EFR mob continue methodicaly marching crushing clusters and clusters of "turtle eggs. not knowing nor caring what creatures they contain.untrodden eggs are shot with mush rays while seagulls a bird that noone put any effort into renaming on any colonised planet. swoop down to devour the exposed liquified remains.
dusk settles in, the Mob has made their way to the far end of the cove, towards the monastary of the brotherhood of the egg. the tower bell in their main structure clangs loudly and beyond an army of "zzzzawop's" from the mush setting of the ray guns there is silence.
the bretheren of the warter planet are as most know sworn to silence. when one is born they cry for the first few secconds then the doctor smacks their bum and they are quiet. the parents share meaningfull silent moments with each other and life silently continues.
ecoes of the bell and guns double back alongg the shore of virgin cove. dusk turns to star lit night, waves lap ashore washing away the mayhem of methodical boot prints.
in the distance of the once sacred beach a cloaked dark figure emerges from the rock face.
she moves irraticly along the beach, searching amongst the shattered egg shells, her bare feet cut and bleeding, her exposed leg and feet colourfully tattoed. the moonlight reflecting off of her many siver rings and peircings
she finds two untouched eggs, one slightly cracked the other rolling in circles on the cold sand and with them she dissapears back into the sheltered crevace she imerged from.
An hour later, the soldiers having silenced the remaining silent monks, the front soldier checking the luminated screen of his arm visor and shutting back off. a giant sphincter raises up from the water floating over the ripples and waves its caused to crash onto the endless shores of the planet. once the soldiers have entered there is a slight vibrating a gurgleing and moaning sound. Then with the passing of wind the sphincter blasts off leaving the planet below.
Down alond the shore an eggscape pod is launched, the darkly lit lab it launched from leaves an elder woman i a red light, her cloak over the blinking controllborard, her bloodied feet soothing in a tub of water. she sits and with aged arthritic fingers plays her electric guitar and waits for the end.
@
chapter 5
MR ASStroid lover tells a story
and
zoya tries to please her captain
@
just beyond the moon of the water planet attempting to program a landing trajectory and destination into the ships gps, mumbleing about stupid x vs y choordinates and having to solve for Z just to land.
"user friendly my ass" yjeffery curses under his breath. "can't you do this ZOYA?" he posed to the ships computer interface.
„{„€„}„p„~„t„p „~„u „q„„|„p „„€„~„‘„„„p
was the computerised russian female voiced responce. best he could tell it meant "i could not understand your comand". this he knew as half the time it was the only responce she gave him.
The ship had been salvaged after the 'cold space war' was indeed of russian origin and did best resemble a submarine
having worked all summer programing soldier responce and comand nose implants he had saved just enough for an old clunker.
walking through the lot of ships, hoppers, and cadilacs the russian craft stood out sorely. it was 3 times taller and 4 times as long as anything else in the lot.
"I'm not selling that, she was just broght in from the clean up of that cold space war mine field cleanup round mars. melted down one twice that size blasted right down the middle last week." the manager of the lot was sillent satuted the earth flag painted on the side of the sub and continued talking.
"still has her heat sheilds intact running nuclear engine and a now banned solar drive, but ill get as much for scrap as for any of these certified beauties and there isnt anyone thats going to want that eye sore in their drive"
if you picture a submarine that has sat on the bottom of the sea since the cold war, take away the sea and put inplace the minefeilds of mars and sub zero temperatures of space.
hawl it out of its crews finnal resting place uncerimoniously.
hastily weld its cracked penetrated hull. activate its nuclear engine and reconnect the solar propulsion drives
(solar propolsion being the dirtyest most polutive forms of energy known to the infinate dimentions. a power source so horid it drains the light from the suns it harnesses its power from. leaving entire solar systems where once there was life with nothing but black holes pulling and pulling at everything arround trying to reignite its core by emiting xrays. a fate earth narrowly avoided by returning to clean reliable coal and oil fuel.)
if you can picture this then you can imagine the zeus. a ship that fought the marshans in the coldspace wars and proudly died screaming two days after delivering the winning blow when the ships computer steered them into a mine feild mistaking it for the home comming parade.
The interior of ZEUS was dimly lit, each bulbs light trying to break through the inch thick grundgy safely glass and air tight wire cage containing it. regulation valves were seised and misslabled.
yjeffery had attempted to translate from russian to english and for the majority has failed. having only a english to russian translation book titled
"1001 words to get any mail order russian in bed".
the mess hall contained nothing but century old outdated rashions his months supply of soylent coloured tablets. every colour except green as it was well out of his price range.
past the mess hall in one dirrection was the sleeping quarters, 20 hammocks of canvas covered in dust and dirt.
what one would sumise to be the century old past crew. past that was the twenty foot thick bulk head, heat sheilds, and ships hull. dead center in this nose cavity was the escape pod. inaccessable due to the contriband stockpile of beer kegs.
in the oposite direction of the mess hall was the bridge with all its flashing lights 50" vid screen, where one would expect to find the periscope sat instead a floor to celing lavalamp. red blobs rising from below the floor moving through a clear crystal tube. then falling again once cooled. the lava lamp was protected by a round handrail and a tinny russian labled sign, causion glass is hot. unknown to yjeffery the lavalamp was actually the heart and blood of ZOYA, the ships artificial inteligence. whom to yjefferys dismay only responded to russian orders and in russian. behind the bridge was the nuclear engine feeding lifesupport power and the solar propolsion drives running the length of the ship were blow holes from which solar flairs corrected their trajectgory. there were no windows, and without only one of four life support systems functioning the ship couldnt sustain a full compliment of crew. air was must and stale, each cycle bringing back into the room only slightly diminished smells it had tried to filly remove. a solution to which yjeffery simply moved to the far end of the ship when passing gas.
the inaccesable escape unit in the nose added to the four deck wide exits seized with time and a good bashing from space debris, left only one entrance and air lock.
up the lader from the main bridge some twenty feet.
as he angrily played with the gps that still claimed the planet did not exist infront of them. he turned again to his open magazine... flipping to the article he had found before embarking from this planet and his "top priority mission".
The article titled "the virgin goths from the water planet as contributed by mr assteroid lover" was an ilustrated entry quite colourfully showing the gothic virgin women of the planet in a naked yet inoffensive way national geographic itself may publish.
but then not being an extinct species, plant life, or planet. the article would not follow the required criteria for national geographic publishing.
the gothic women of the endless virgin coves that spaned the entire water planet were born of legal age in their early twenties. genetically imprinted with daddy issues, having themselves only entered the world from an egg secconds before combined with never having a male role model in their lives. The male that greeted them into their life taking the hand of the tattoes gothic virgins hand would be her mate for life. an honor given only to the silent selibate monks stationed in the stilt built brotherhoods huts untouching of the spiritual beaches of virgin cove. The monks whom spent their lives learning; honor, truth, and how to be respectfull to their virgin, vunerable, gothic, and sexually devious mates.
to join the brotherhood was not yjefferys purpose, instead, as the article in
" ZERO G NATURAL BOOBS" ilustrated and corectly sugested. one could easily visit the spiritual beaches and take of their own choosing of an egg or eggs. instantly hatching their own virgin gothic mate with imprinted daddy issues and a humongous desire to make it up.
for there is a serious flaw in the
they do not shout for help
any monk on guard that saw an intruder would be speachless to protest or retreive backup.
their security system existed as follows...
if you see an intruder taking of the egg
...walk carefully arround eggs in the sand
...pass your breatheren with respect
...climb the tower and ring thebell of alarm.
by which time the "egg napper" would have come and gone long ago. This a system odly enough could easily been approved upon if only any of the monks were able to discuss the matter to to each other out loud or knew of the game of sherades.
chapter siz
a carton of mystery
and a potatoe cannon
punching his gps yjeffery cursed again as once again the computer told him the planet was not there.
concluding "mr assteroid lover" had either exagerated profoundly or selfishly wished to keep
his found planet to his perverse pleasures and noone elses.
no sooner had he begun programing the ship to leave when a
computerised signal came in from an "escape pod" closing on his location. requesting releif and physical aid.
an hour later yjeffery had positioned the ship thus allowing the escape pod to drift directly into the only working airlock. the upper hatch shuddered as its locking wheel and gears turned, tinny unoiled motors and aircraft cables puled and wound tighter and tighter pulling open the round entry hatch. the foren container registered as an escape pod was safely inside, the hatch closed and scealed recompression began and the air lock opened with a mechanical whirling and groaning.
several clicks echoed along the hull and a ssssshhh as mecanised air was released from between magnetic seals.
down the coridor i rivet shouted out "PING" and flew accross the room.... sorry ZOYA whispered. in english. but yjeffery was too distracted to notice, a fact that zoya did not miss.
with the anti grav turned off captain yjeffery helped the container down through the hatch.
sand brushed off where he touched the container and floated about, inhaling some when he cleared his throat
some other sand went in his eyes. "ZOYA!" he hollered hacking and blinking "turn the gravity on!"
with that Zoya activated the gravity responded in rusian a angry responce yjeffery could not understand and blinked back off.
everything quickly fell to the metal grid floor of the bridge. his cans of beer, magazines, crumbs and chips that had apeared
from and dissapeared back into crevases folds and gaps all over the ship.
yeffery fell to the floor as well. The container ontop of him. dispite its sizeable weight he was not crushed and was more puzled
that, for a escape pod, it seemed mostly hollow and could not contain more than a couple of survivors, if indeed it contained any.
the perforated scealed container sported a dozzen tinny humps along what was only dicernable as the top by a large black arrow and
the word "up" printed inseveral planetary languages. below which "contents preacious and maliable" was boldly printed.
try as he might he could not open the sealed container or get Zoya to respond. eventually tossing asside the russian frase book.
a digital counter of sorts was imprited on the end and above that a partly peeled sticker with some numbers.
any relitive meaning was lost on the extremely annoyed tired sore and dissapointed captain.
of anythinghe had brought aboard this was the strangest.
yet to him it registered as nothing more than a story to tell over drinks. the pre programed three day retourn trip was underway.
on the vid screen was an active broadcast of "survivor planet". a pitted obese naked potatoe man was being voted off. they had constructed
a mr potatoe cannon, loaded him and he was shot off the planet. yjefferys attention on the show, his cold beer resting on his pile of
unopened space cadette texts. with a tialthe captain turned up the vid screen and dug in for the night.
oblivious that behind him the counter flashed away growing closer to the expiry date printed on the sticker above it.
chapte
A ball of light rolls into the darkness
and
the madness is airborn
silent alarm security system of the silent monks.r seven
Zoya was dreaming, her core
A crystal tube in the center of the bridge was filled with a clear dispersal fluid. at the top was attached her optic memory nerves. at the bottom below the floow the heating trays.
red liquid blobs floated up and down the crystal tube.
the data relived by zoya the
memory unit gave her a ability to reminise. Her optic nerves reading the stored data at immence speeds. this was a sillent and other than releasing and heat and light. did not interfeer in the vid screen the way the ships central vac and hair dryer did.cooled dark red blob now sunk back down the crystal tube, rippleing through the clear fluid. and back out of sight below the floor to be reabsorbed with the data blob mass in the heating trays.Zoya walked along the bridge of Zeus , passing crew members going about their buisness, turning new and sillent releif valves. reading the russian lables properly and regulating pressure flow to the right areas. the ship speed along faster, she relived the feeling having her bloated hull pressure being released... thankyou corpral tumms she spoke to the soldier in russian and continued to walk past the mess hall of celebrating soldiers. she was almost at the bridge, she felt good, proud of her crew, her computer self recprded that all the worlds should be proud of her and the crew.
On the bridge the captain filled out a victorious report in his log and prepared to address the crew, congradulating them and confirming that they had indeed eliminated the marsian threat. the the coldspace war was over and they were returning to ther girlfriends and wives.
meanwhile off in the escape unit at the cone of the sub three members of the crew had snuck off sealed the hatch lighting up and hot boxing the pod.
they celebrated the end of the war, and having had the chance to smugle aboard illegal marshian mariguana and kegs of beer.
both known to be the strongest and last remaining in the infinate dimentions. and the root cause of the war.
the marshian extermination had began months before when the senator of texas (the new outback and Australias 246th territory), had his teen age daughter dropped off past midnight by a marsian, exchange student. both were high as a kite off of the single joint he had brought from planet.
the senator being the head of 'the war on drugs campaign' made sure it was the countries top priority.
even though the innitial scans of mars revealed no S.M.H. (stashes of mass halusigenics). the earth pushed forward and other dimentions followed.
standing on her own bridge watching with pride as her late captain addressed the crew she felt proud, she felt good. seeing her original crew, ther devotion and knowledge of her functions. their new crisp uniforms. hearing her programed language, this was a good dream.
on the bridge, distracted technicians cheered not noticing the fire and smoke warning lights on the console. automatic venting systems cut in... the smokey escape pod that had set off the warnings began venting out the smoke. the unconcious smiling figures lay on benches. the sprinkler systems activated showering them with water.
the filter units of the zeus were not equiped for such thick exhaust. three of the four units began malfunctioning from the strain, the air pressure being too much for the single remaining life unit, smoke began spilling out the vents.
standing on her own bridge watching with pride as her late captain addressed the crew she felt proud, she felt good, she felt very good.
the air was getting thick, the crew were celibrating louder, some began throwing paper in the air or laughing at the captains face on the vid screen. his nose flairing, eyes bulging and mouth twisting and consorting as words rolled out. on the other side of the monitor the captain was now shouting. both to over come the noise of the crew and because he wanted to. "AND WITH THAT WE WILL RETURN VICTORIOUS! WE WIL... WE... US... I LOVE YOU GUYS!... OF ALL THE CREWS IVE LEAD OF ALL THE SHIPS!" laughter reverberated through the ship, there was a stampeede heading for the mess hall.
"ZOYA?" the now naked captain sat at the console, "yes captain came" from the vid screen as the other ZOYA stood beside him and giggled at the sound of her own voice and seeing the captain naked.
"lets play a game ZOYA" said the captain excitedly.
"right away captain, shall we play chess?" the consoles digital surface lit up, a chess board and 3 dimentional peices of light appeared on it, each one in its identical place to when they last played.
"nooo, wined the captain thats too hard... Lets play tick tak toe, i like tik tak toe!"
"alright captain" the console flashed off and back on with a lit up grid. on one side was a line of identicle pyramids of light, at the other end a line of shining spheres.
"shall we play captain?" she asked, pausing only for a seccond to remove and replace a pyramid in line she noticed to be an 8th a quantim leap unit too small.
They played, the crew partied, the soldiers in the life pod drowned, the mess hall handed out rasions, everyone felt good.
ZOYA after having let the captain win 4 times at tik tak toe thought of how happy everyone would be to see them. the remembered the ship yard they left from, remembered the christening, the parade. "a parade theyll throw us a parade right captain" zoya inquired.
"parade? oh yes zoya a giant parade, by now the captain was more interested in his hands and how they cold pick up playing peices of made of light than the actual game.
"yes zoya they will throw us a parade.. IN SPACE ill bet, theyll be tons of ships, everyone waying in space at us. theyll float arround us with gifts and we will fly on forever! all the people waving as we fly away!"
ZOYA loved this thought, a parade just for her. she already saw them, hundreds of ships floating in space. none of them going anywhere, they were waiting for them, for her! everyone would wave at her, and they would fly on forever.
she took them to the parade. none waved, no ships honked their horns.
the parade of ships were space derilicts and a sea of mines rloating in space. the mines had been placed here by the now dead marshian race. scattered to prevent attack in their plannet.
Standing on the bridge with horror as her own engines and interfaces took her closer to the non existant parade.
Fireworks as a mine threw her about. the crew, shouting from victory turned to shouting in panik.
those who could ran for the life pod, ducking as others were thrown over them and hurdleing over the bodies already down. ZOYA decided she did not like fire works. the life pod door was still lock from the inside.. men cursed pounding on the hatch for thos inside to have mercy, let them in, and something about their mothers.
more fireworks as a vacume charge was set off somewhere along ZOYA'S hull. fires were snuffed out, air russed out of the wrenched open hull. the blast shook every inch of the ship. the life pods hatch blew open. A wall of water tummbled over the crew. soon they had all been riped out into space. their bodies contorted and jolted as explosions continued along the hull.. keeling over, flooded, broken. She watched her russian crews distorted boddies wave to her.
.. . the last thing she remembered was the game on the console. it flickedred as sections powered themselves down. the remaining sphere of light on the game screen rolled off the darkened dcreen, rolling off down the corridor, corosively disolving the darkness arround it. The only other light on the bridge came from zoyas memory bank, the warming trays turned themselves off, the red blobs of dats cooled, and parting from its optic nerves, also drifted down slowly into darkness.
She stood alone on her own bridge, crew gone, captain gone. in her own dream she watched as she herself sleept.
the creaking and shudering noises of a derilict ship fading. nothing but darkness and sillence.
she woke up screaming/
next chapter
the carten opens, two captains meet
and zoya speaks
