GO TO THE TABLE OF CONTENTS ============================== SEVERE REPAIR: THE BROKEN TEXT A Science Fiction Story (approx. 1,000 pages) by Frank Edward Nora ============================== "An Interdimensional Universe Of Characters On The Chaotic Edge Of The End Of Everything" This is a work of fiction. All characters and events portrayed in this work are either fictitious or are used fictitiously. Copyright (c) 2008 by Frank Edward Nora Some rights reserved. You may download and share this file with some restrictions: The electronic version of this book is released under a Creative Commons "Attribution-NonCommercial-NoDerivs 3.0" license (http://creativecommons.org/licenses/by-nc-nd/3.0/). Here is a summary of the license: You are free to copy, distribute, display, and perform the work, under the following conditions: [1] Attribution. You must give the original author credit. [2] Noncommercial. You may not use this work for commercial purposes. [3] No Derivative Works. You may not alter, transform, or build upon this work. [4] For any reuse or distribution, you must make clear to others the license terms of this work. [5] Any of these conditions can be waived if you get permission from the copyright holder. Published by Frank Edward Nora, frank@theovernightscape.com More info at SevereRepair.com First Edition: April 2008 NOTE: This work supercedes all previous version of Severe Repair, and contains everything that was included in previous versions. NOTE: This work contains some adult language and subject matter and is intended for mature audiences. NOTE: This work contains approximately 1.9 MB of text across 34 sections (not counting the Introduction), and must be kept intact in any reproduction. ============================== INTRODUCTION ============================== Severe Repair is an original work of science fiction that I have been working on for over 22 years. The project started in 1986, though some of the writing is older. I wrote most of it during the 1990s. Though I probably should have, I never treated Severe Repair as an ordinary "book". I like to do things my own way, and over the years this has been somewhat disastrous for Severe Repair. The earliest parts of Severe Repair were published as photocopied "minicomics" called "Bible 2" in the 1980s. I continued on this course, publishing a number of experimental photocopied publications in the early 1990s, in which these stories were featured, at some point being named "Severe Repair". In 1994, I started an "ezine" called OsoaWeek ("The Weekly Ezine of Obliviana Super Occult Amusement"). It started off on AOL and a local BBS--then in 1995 it moved to the Internet on Obliviana.com. It was in OsoaWeek that I published the majority of the Severe Repair stories. In the late 1990s, I was inspired to create a new fiction format for the Internet, the "Cupline" system. In this system, the stories were split up into short segments ("Cups") of a few pages each, and put into a hypertext environment. This was part of my larger hypertext work called "Aerie Obliviana". The "1999 Version" of Severe Repair was a milestone, in that it brought together most of what I had written in this "Cupline" format. Ultimately, the Cupline system didn't catch on--in retrospect, I think it added an unnecessary complication to reading the work. Part of the idea had been to look at Severe Repair as a "pile of comic books" where you could start reading at any point. I finally realized this was confusing and was ultimately not helpful in getting people to experience Severe Repair. Entering the new millennium, Severe Repair was on the back burner. I would write new things now and then, but far less than my peak time in the 90s. Finally, around 2002 I decided the next phase for Severe Repair--to turn it into a series of novels. This turned out to be another big mistake for Severe Repair. My writing is very freeform, stream of consciousness, inconsistent, and undisciplined. Each storyline is fairly self-consistent, but things can change a lot between storylines. What I decided to do with the novel is to weave a number of storylines together in alternating chapters--and the result was, in retrospect, a failure. It hurt the material for it all to be interwoven like that. It really was not meant for this "novel" format. In 2003, OsoaWeek ended and my Internet radio show "The Overnightscape" began... In 2004, I was inspired by other online authors to release the novel version of Severe Repair under a Creative Commons license. I realized it was not perfect, but it was a way to get Severe Repair out there. It was available as a free download (as for a time as a physical book, printed on demand by CafePress--only two were ever made, I think). This online release was not successful--in part, I believe, because the form was so wrong for the material. Last year, 2007, I took another look at the overall project, and gathered everything I had together. The entire work was approximately 1,000 pages, and a total mess. Parts of it had been cleaned up to be a part of the novel. A lot of it was still in the 1999 "Cupline" version. There was new writing, and also much older writing I rediscovered in old documents. All brought together in one mass heap of writing... a broken disaster, full of insanity and inconsistency... And I realized, Severe Repair is unfixable... it is completely broken. A disaster. But it's GOOD. So looking at my "work in progress" folder on my hard drive, I realized I should just release the whole thing, as is. This was last week. In order to make this release, I cleaned things up a little, but what is here is pretty much what I collected together last year. One of the Cuplines, "The Cartersash Story" was unifinished, but had extensive notes on how it was to proceed. So over the past few days I finished writing that section. It was very cool to be writing Severe Repair again--it came right back to me, even though it's been such a long time since I've done it. So this is "Severe Repair: The Broken Text". Finally, the complete work released in a form that does it justice. But it is absolutely "broken"... a messed-up, flawed disaster. But it is, in my opinion, still very good! Just in the past couple days I have been very engaged reading different parts of it... So what is Severe Repair about? It's all about interdimensional travel, time travel, superheroes, gods, alternate realities, and the end of the universe. The central storyline follows a green-haired guy named Daptin Gone as he discovers his godhood and realizes that he has, in some way, prevented the universe from ending when it should have. The matter is not resolved... there are hints of some kind of final battle, but I haven't written that yet... so yes, there is a possibility that I will write more Severe Repair... but for now this is the definitive version of Severe Repair. I hope you enjoy it, in all its imperfection and wonder. Love, Frank Edward Nora April 5, 2008 P.S. Check out my Internet talk show, "The Overnightscape", at TheOvernightscape.com ...also, in "The Overnightscape Underground" Day One (onsug.com) I did an audiobook version of one section ("Beautiful Disaster Area")--but I was not too happy with the results. I would still love to do an audio version but I think it would be a LOT of work to do it right... ============================== CONTENTS ============================== CUPLINE 1: GOODBYE POPCORN (231 K) CUPLINE 2: OFFICE COMPLEX (175 K) CUPLINE 3: PECULIAR LATHER (117 K) CUPLINE 4: WINTER STADIUM THEM (66 K) CUPLINE 5: THE CARBONIZE NEIGHBOR (52 K) CUPLINE 6: YELLOWHAUS (35 K) CUPLINE 7: HONEYSUCKLE ROVER (44 K) CUPLINE 8: IRREGULAR SHIRT (81 K) CUPLINE 9: THE WATERALLIDGE EDGE (21 K) CUPLINE 10: QUARREL ORCHARD (24 K) CUPLINE 11: CARDBOARD RISING (14 K) CUPLINE 12: FOOLWARD OAK (32 K) CUPLINE 13: FRIEND IS TAR MONORAIL (24 K) CUPLINE 14: TO VIXENWAY (30 K) CUPLINE 15: WEAVER (101 K) CUPLINE 16: BILLION'S DRIFTING (61 K) CUPLINE 17: FOREMAN ITTENER PIER (150 K) CUPLINE 18: A ROAD MAP OF ARCTICA (95 K) CUPLINE 19: THE MILDRED CORK (65 K) CUPLINE 20: CLOWN CENTAUR ARCHITECT (46 K) CUPLINE 21: ORANGE UNIVERSE (66 K) CUPLINE 22: I LOVE BAILEY CONG (16 K) CUPLINE 23: PILN OF SCREW RIDGE (19 K) CUPLINE 24: THE DARK OF COLLEGE (37 K) CUPLINE 25: HADRIAN FOZZCOLT (32 K) CUPLINE 26: CARNE'S MOISTURE DETECTION FRIEND (87 K) CUPLINE 27: BEWTIOLB DAYS (11 K) CUPLINE 28: ACONCK DUST (22 K) CUPLINE 29: CELLAR 77 (11 K) CUPLINE 30: THE CARTERSASH STORY (25 K) CUPLINE 31: BEAUTIFUL DISASTER AREA (15 K) CUPLINE 32: LAZY DAY (5 K) CUPLINE 33: THE NURSHIP STUNS (14 K) CUPLINE 34: DOLTHETHMEN (28 K) ============================== -SR- ============================== SEVERE REPAIR a science fiction story by Frank Edward Nora May 2007 Edition--the whole thing as it stands right now severerepair.com--copyright 1986-2007 ============================== CUPLINE 1: GOODBYE POPCORN 13 Chapters--SR-001 thru SR-013 ============================== -SR- ============================== CUPLINE 1: GOODBYE POPCORN CHAPTER 1 SR-001 ============================== -------------------------- CHAPTER 2 sr02 01.1--Canyon & Phone Call -------------------------- ============================== Sitting in his room at the Supbam Hotel in Agoopish as Bright (the thing that passed for the sun here) was rising, Daptin Gone didn't want to make the phone call. He ran his hand through his long green hair and leaned back in his chair. His mind was wandering, seeking avenues of thought engaging enough to justify delaying the call. He looked out the window at the city below, at the people starting to throng, at the weird hospitals in the distance, at the unpredictable Tuhalont River. He'd been in a hospital once. Cringing, he recalled in vivid horror the terminal illness he had had, and how he somehow beat it, and that Glorious Place, and how things hadn't seemed to be working quite right. He mulled over the matter, as he had done so many times before. This whole superlife of his, which seemed to casually annihilate the infinite suffering of his miserable diseased state. Crushed it like stepping unknowing on a little spider. The miracle cure that people didn't like--they thought he'd been faking it. Escape down to Baskonontana, to college in Gullia Fair. Recruited into a dimension-hopping company of weirdoes, Overwhelm Associates. And then introduced to these cities, these hidden Avert Cities... and Agoopish was the one he called home. It all started in that Glorious Place... Such a wonderful day, such an excellent location. Walking up the grassy hill, perfect sunlight and breezes, Daptin saw the rock and the fox on top of it, jumping off. Near the rock was a blackboard with the words "Here is Canyon" scrawled across it. The little red fox trotted toward Daptin and said, "You're late. Oh so very late." Daptin stopped. Fox approached and sat. "I knew you were still here," Fox said. "Sit, and I'll let you know what you missed." Daptin slowly sat down in the grass, mind racing, all so familiar. It was the beautiful smell in the air more than anything else. "We're so far along," Fox said, shaking his head. "So few left." Daptin took a deep, deep breath and smiled in recognition. He knew Fox, somehow. The furry fellow was familiar. "And I'll be departed myself before the next Time," Fox continued. "So few left." "Who?" Daptin asked, his voice sounding unusually rich. Fox sighed. "Twenty-five, including you and me." Daptin took a moment to think about it. "Twenty-five?" he asked, dumbfounded. "Yes, and all of you were so far scattered that we only found you two Times ago. The absolute bottom of the well. All that's left." Daptin tried to remember more, but couldn't. "All the others have departed, returned to their Lives," Fox continued. Then, looking up at Daptin. "Who will find it?" Daptin met Fox's eyes and was struck with the little fellow's deep aura of being. "It?" Daptin asked. Then something happened. The beautiful environs disappeared, and Daptin was back in his bed at the hospital in his native country of Arctica. He'd been there, asleep, before Fox had somehow called him into that other world. It had just been a few minutes earlier, by his reckoning. Daptin panicked as the pain of his Hizzings Disease returned in a massive wave of horror. There was a game show on the TV as he looked over at his roommate, Tag, who was sleeping. The pain made Daptin angry, and he tried to get out of the bed, but he only managed to nudge himself a little and get light-headed. Half-conscious, Daptin saw a nurse walk into the room and emit a shocked "What?" She ran from the room, but her exclamation woke Tag, who looked over. "Holy crap! How'd you get back, man? We thought you did yourself in. Where've you been?" Daptin struggled to form the words through dry lips. "How long... have I..." "What, three or four days? I dunno. So where you been?" "I don't... know... for sure." "Huh. Well the police will sure want to talk to you. They grilled me for a couple of hours, y'know, man. They thought your family or maybe your girlfriend took you away and helped you commit suicide the easy way, man. Without a judge." "No," Daptin managed. "Well you have a lot of explaining to do, Daptin, my man." Daptin grunted. How frustrating it was, being strong and healthy one minute and so weak and pathetic the next. The nurse returned with a security guard. "Look!" she said, pointing at Daptin. "What the--everything's hooked up. The machines--who set them back up?" the guard said. "Nobody!" the nurse said in her irritating nasal voice. "Nobody here, anyway. Maybe whoever took him away put everything back?" "Well, we can figure all this out later. The police are on their way," the guard said, looking quite glad to have something interesting happen on the job. "Should I call his family?" the nurse asked. Daptin wished she would just shut up. "No--let the police take care of that. We don't know who's involved," the guard said. "Okay," the nurse said, as she approached Daptin's supine form. "Can you hear me?" she asked. "Yes," Daptin managed. "Do you know where you are?" the nurse said. "Hospital." "That's right. But where were you?" Daptin couldn't stand that voice so close to him. "Leave... me alone." "We'll leave you alone once we figure out what in the name of Locket is going on," she said, hovering over him. Then she removed the covers from Daptin and began examining him. Daptin couldn't stand it, the misery of being taken care of by such an idiot. But he knew how to escape. Somehow, he knew. "Here is Canyon," Daptin said with some difficulty. Instantly, the world shifted. and Daptin was standing in a room with a window, looking out onto Canyon. He was back in his regular clothes, and healthy again, as he had been with Fox. He looked around the room, which was carved out of rock, and saw a number of tables and comfortable-looking chairs, along with an opening in one wall leading into another room. From outside, which was sunny and beautiful, he heard a distant "Hahoo!". Daptin moved to the window, looked out, and saw someone approaching from below. Soon, he saw it was a young woman flying up toward the window. He backed away, and a moment later she approached the window and hovered there for a moment. "Yes!" she exclaimed, and did several backflips in midair. Daptin stood still as the pretty girl flew into the room, landed, and stood before him. She was short, with long, full blond hair, and a wonderful, whimsical blue-and-white outfit. "You're the one who didn't make it. Did you see Fox, then?" "I did," Daptin said. "Cool! What do you think about it?" "Um, I think, uh, it's pretty good, I guess," Daptin managed. "Good. Do you remember me?" She did look familiar, but Daptin couldn't place her. "Sort of." "Well, you seem familiar, but likewise, I don't quite remember. My Lifename now is The Tracy Taciturn. What's yours?" "Daptin. Daptin Gone." "Pleased to see you again, Daptin." "Uh, same to you, Tracy." Tracy looked out the window. "I love flying. It feels so good to be doing it again. Can you believe we're all that's left? Well, except for Fox. But he's leaving. That means we have a chance to make up for our rotten lot in Creation." "Is anyone else here?" Tracy turned to face him. "Oh, just one other. The rest are off in search of the it, I suppose. They must know what they're doing, unlike us." "Yeah." "Assuming you came here like me to get a handle on what's going on." "That's a reason." "Cool. So how much do you remember?" "Not much." "Well, that's alright. Deskerhilm seems to know everything. He should be up in a while--doesn't fly you know. Do you?" "I'm not sure." "Wanna try? It's great. Please, you must." "Okay, what do I do?" "Well, I guess, you could just jump out the window, but that wouldn't do if you're not a flyer." "I'd fly, but only in one direction--down." "True. So why don't I carry you along, and you can let go if you feel your Flight." Tracy approached Daptin, and put her arms around his waist. Before he could react, she flew out the window upside down, holding Daptin on top of her. They soared out over Canyon and Daptin took in the majesty of the place for the first time. And he enjoyed the tight embrace. "What do you think, Daptin?" Daptin wasn't at all apprehensive. In fact, he began to feel his own Flight. "I think I can do it," he said. "Shall I let go?" "No, not yet. Let me get a good hold on it." They flew for a few more minutes, swooping and speeding all around Canyon. Then Daptin made fists and felt his Flight fully. Without a word, Tracy let go, and Daptin felt an amazing rush as he took over and was himself flying. He soared all over Canyon and frolicked with Tracy for a long time, laughing and hahooing all the way. Brilliant and vague. Daptin had a sense of memory, an existence before the Daptin Gone incarnation. Growing up in the suburbs of Arctica... then struck with disease just as he should have started sowing his teenage wild oats. And now the mega-glorious flying, and he knew for sure it wasn't just a dream. The frolic was for hours, then they had to head back. Flying next to Tracy toward the Palace in the Wall from far down Canyon where they'd flown, Daptin was struck with the irony of it all. "I tell you, I spent so much time coming to terms with death, from the first diagnosis to my present state. So much denial, so much agony. For everyone, my family, my friends, my girlfriend. And I didn't even know. Well, I hardly knew, about all this. And now, flying... with you and everything... in this Highworld, it seems so..." "Sounds like a pretty nasty disease, that one you have." Daptin laughed. "Hizzings Disease. Yeah. Still don't know how I can cure it." "Deskerhilm will have the answer," The Tracy Taciturn said. "Fox knew Deskerhilm was beyond most of us, that he wouldn't want to get involved in it. Knew he'd help those of us who needed it." "And out of the 24 left, or 23, I guess, we're the only ones who need help? The 21 others know what they're doing?" Tracy shrugged as best one can while flying. "Maybe they don't, but also don't want to seem too anxious for help." "What were they like, the others?" "Oh, a mixed lot. Most were human. Some were--well, some were beyond description. 44 Times is a long time, especially for those prone to mischief and wandering from the Path." "Yeah." Tracy picked up speed and Daptin matched it easily. They were going so fast that they couldn't hear each other when they tried to speak, so they didn't. The Sun was setting as they reached the Palace and flew into the same room Daptin had arrived in. Deskerhilm was waiting for them. He looked up from the book he was reading and greeted them. Daptin was a little shaken at Deskerhilm's appearance. He was a very short, stocky creature, with a barely humanoid shape. He was a brown-gray color, and his skin resembled a cross between rock and reptile. His face had an ancient, calm look to it and vaguely resembled a toad. He had an air of might about him, but also an air of patience and benevolence. Suddenly, the strange little fellow held up his hands and backed away from the two. "No! No! Cannot be!" Deskerhilm said, and like a video camera falling off a table, the world collapsed. And it was back to the hospital, where the scandal began. Daptin yowled in pain, thought he was gonna die any minute. But an hour later he was in a peaceful sleep. A day later he was fully cured. The memory of Canyon was still there, but blurred. And saying "Here is Canyon" from then on gave him a strange buzzing feeling, but didn't transport him. It felt like a signal blocked. A signal blocked... a signal blocked... Back in the present and the hotel room, Daptin was shaken out of his musings by the sound of a massive explosion in the distance. From that weird bomb test place? Maybe. But now, he just had to make the call. Had to make the call... picking up the phone as confused memories danced in his head... home from the hospital and totally healthy... they all thought it was a hoax, that he did it for symapthy and to go on his "end journeys"... he had to leave his homeland of Arctica... he went south, to Baskonontana... to Thatterine College in Gullia Fair... The end journies... a great four months... the grand tour of Arctica, paid for by willing donations from his hometown... folllowed by two years of evil disease. How could they think he had faked it...? Dialing... dialing... He heard the phone ringing on the other end as he twirled the cord around his arm. Out the window of the suite, he saw morning dawning over Agoopish. This had to be the most way-out phone call ever made, being that it crossed the boundaries of no less than five worlds. "Hello?" came the unfamiliar high-pitched female voice on the other end of the line. "Uh, yeah. This is, uh, Daptin. Can I talk to Eb?" "Mr. Traipse is in a meeting at the moment... tee hee," said the voice, giggling. "What? A meeting? What time is it there? Tell him it's Daptin, he'll wanna talk to me." "I'm sorry," said the gleeful, sing-song voice. "Look, this is a very long-distance call, and I have to talk to him. Page him or something, y'know? It's like really important." "Chee hee hee!" "Now wait... who is this? Huh? Let me talk to Diorama or Bliss, or anyone!" Daptin heard more tittering and the phone being dropped. In the background, he heard some people talking loudly, but he couldn't make out what they were saying. "Shoulda known not to call Greatwall at midday," Daptin grumbled to himself as he stood up and walked over to the window. He surveyed Bright continuing to rise up over the diverse buildings of midtown Agoopish. Far below he saw hordes of denizens going about their mucky lives. Soon he'd be out there too. Mucky too? Not very. He knew this would be a fun day. "Damn," Daptin muttered. He walked over to the TV and switched it on, turning the sound all the way down. On the screen was an extreme close-up of a bearded fat guy, making all sorts of goofy faces at the camera. He'd seen the show before--a whole half-hour of this guy's silly expressions, accompanied by cacophonous polka. Another example of Adlai Blankablark's lack of firm footing in reality. Daptin wasn't the only one counting the days till Earth cable TV would be piped into Agoopish. They already had it in the free city of Boltpike, so the only barriers left were political. But he was sure Agoopish would get it before the other god-ruled cities, Ocpadusk, Blamnoom, and Felptash. A commotion like the sound of banging pots and pans came across the phone line, and Daptin was about to hang up and try another Overwhelm Associates number when he heard the phone being picked up. "Yes. Hello. Hello?" came the voice of Eb Traipse. "Hello," Daptin said. "Yes, who is this?" "It's Daptin! Daptin Gone. Remember me?" "Oh, yes. Hold on a second, would you?" Eb said. Then, raising his voice, he said, "We can't have this! Tell them to keep it under control! I'm not kidding! Mr. Fife will not be happy! ...Daptin?" "Yeah." "How kind of you to call. We half thought you were dead or working for Thewsike by now." "No. I'm fine. But, like first, what the hell is happening over there?" "Oh. Well, don't spread it around but we have a faery problem here. A lot of them are running amuck all around here. You know we can't have this." "How the hell'd they get there?" "I'm afraid Ms. Arcomany is to blame. She uncovered a faeryland on Barley Sine Earth and a troop of the buggers stowed away in her cloak." "That was a faery on the phone before?" "My god they're answering the phones now! Letevs will have my head!" "I'm sure Treyess will own up to it." "That's not what I'm worried about. It's been a few hours and none of our anti-faery protocols are succeeding. This breed is respectably robust." "Hmm. Well, I'm glad I'm not there." "Where are you, by the way, my dear boy?" Eb said. "Um. I, uh, I'm around, y'know, around the Alley, the general Red Alley area kind of place, y'know." "You sound like you're calling from right next door." "I, uh, wouldn't go that far, Eb." "Heh heh. So what do you have to say for yourself? You're in violation of about a baker's dozen company policies. You're not working for Thewsike, are you? Please tell me you're not." "No, I'm definitely not like anywhere near working for the Unreal Sixty-Four." "So what are you up to?" "I, uh, I've just been hanging out on the Alley. I've been pretty fed up with Overwhelm lately. I mean, I know scheduling's a thing, but almost twenty months and I still don't have bridging? I mean, huh, I'm convinced you guys just didn't want to see me able to bridge. And I mean, if you don't want to teach me, fine, but just come out and say it. And all the bullshit coming out of Greatwall is just, like, really weird. No one believes you guys anymore. What the hell is Fife's problem? We all know Overwhelm is military, so why's he trying to hide it so much, from his own warriors?" "Daptin, I know where you're coming from, but you know I don't make the decisions around here. You could learn to bridge anytime if you took the initiative. Now, let's cut to the chase, now. Are you coming back or not? And are you working for anyone else? Bestroystraw? Rogues?" "No no no, none of that. I'm just taking a break, whether you guys like it or not." "Will you be back?" "Yes! Yes, I will be back. Just, it won't be for a while. That's why I called. I don't know if I'll be welcome, but I will be back, but not for a while." "Like how long a while?" "Like, I don't know. Like a few more weeks, a month. I don't know." "Okay Daptin. We don't want any trouble. Our main concern is loyalty. We understand if you need a break, but you could have called sooner. But if you have had another offer or any contact from another company, I advise you to tell me now, since I'll find out sooner or later anyway." "No Eb, it's just a break, and I haven't called cuz I've been pretty pissed-off, that's all. I will be back, but I don't know exactly when. But it might be like a month or at most like two. Okay?" "Alright Daptin. You know where I stand. I hope to see you back here soon. You're not the only one feeling the strain around here. And Daptin, do you have a number where I can reach you?" "Um... I'm not sure if I can give you this number--hold on." "Well do you have a number of someone who can then get in touch with you? In case of emergency, you know." "I know, I know. Um, I guess I can give you this number. It's the switchboard at a hotel I'm staying at. I uh..." "Which hotel on the Alley is it?" "Um, it's like not exactly on the Alley, but real near it, um." "Which Earth is it on?" "Look, I better not give the number out. You have the number at my apartment and I have a machine there. Just call there if you have to." "Okay Daptin. I hope to see you soon. You are okay, aren't you?" "Yes! I'm fine. No problem." "Well, take care." "Bye bye," Daptin said as he hung up the phone and looked over the buildingtops at the distant Agoopi hinterland. Eb wasn't such a bad guy, but Overwhelm Associates was a really annoying company to work for. Daptin totally wanted to quit, but he had the legitimate fear of losing contact with all the friends he had in Aconck. Maybe this was why they never taught him bridging--the art of travelling between Earths--to keep up the pressure to remain loyal, to keep him needing the bridging services the company could provide. It made some kind of sense, that the ability to cross over into an alternate Earth was not something they'd be overly eager to share. -SR- ============================== CUPLINE 1: GOODBYE POPCORN CHAPTER 2 SR-002 ============================== -------------------------- CHAPTER 8 sr08 01.2--Mortal Supply -------------------------- ============================== "You doin' that mission today, man?" the long-haired Minion Van Hall said as he entered the room. "Hm?" Daptin said. "Weren't you gonna do a mission for Cursive Caxopy? Like a secret assignment?" "Yup. Today's the day. Have to prove our mettle as mortals. You know Fake's coming with me." "Yeah I heard. So how'd you get in with that Caxopy chick so soon? Me 'n' Martin 'n' Tanner've been busting our balls to start this whole mortal thing going. Y'know man?" "Well, you guys haven't stayed in Agoopish the whole time like me and Fake have. You have to make a commitment to get things up and running." "I know. Fake's like totally abandoned her life on Earth." "I sort of have too," Daptin said with a shrug. "Yeah. At least there're phones here. If not, it'd be tough." "Uh-huh." Minion sat down on a low couch and Daptin walked across the room and opened a closet. "So Daptin man, I hear you found it with Spanking New Sarah?" Daptin turned, holding a jacket in his hands. "What, does everyone know about this now?" "No man, just like, y'know, all of us. Hear your friend El was pissed." "She was. Very." "Were you like going out with her?" Minion asked. "I spent like a week-and-a-half hanging out with her," Daptin said, "day-in and day-out. It's like, she's a goddess man. Maybe she's not the most gorgeous goddess, but she's pretty damn nice. I was like in torture in wanting her so bad, y'know man? I tried to, y'know, let her know in little ways and stuff. And she seemed into me and stuff, but I dunno. She was just--like she said after she found out--that she wanted to get to know me before getting physical, but I was like, I didn't think it would ever get that far." "So what happened?" Minion asked, cocking his head and resting his index finger on his temple. "I, y'know, I started to like not spend so much time with El and sort of met a different group of gods, and me and Sarah hit it off right away, y'know, and she was like totally into it and I was in no mood to resist or anything. So, like, we did it." "Man! You're the first to find it with a goddess! Man, I'm like--it's like I'm pissed-off man! I gotta do it. I gotta do it." "It's definitely an experience. Well worth the effort," Daptin said. "So what the fuck's it like? Are they different? Is it like, y'know... what's the basic situation with it?" "Uh... it's like being in another world," Daptin said. "I mean, I know we are in another world already, but it's like, I don't know, total bliss, total astral. Like an energy, total ecstasy. Nothing dirty--totally transcendal. It was like the most amazing thing. It's almost... almost like, I dunno, it's so fantastic, but like, it's so great that it's not like sex at all. I mean, it's too involved. I don't know. I'm not saying it's not the best or anything, just that it's not like totally better than with a normal human, y'know, like a regular girl." "I don't know man. It sounds totally excellent. I don't know. I think I'm getting pretty close with a few of 'em. You know like Holly Scroll Bonnie? She's like so cool." "Yeah." "So what's the deal with you and El Flactor Floor? Are you still, like, seeing her?" Minion asked. "Nah," said Daptin. "When she found out about me and Sarah, she said she didn't want to see me for a while. She said she understood, but that she was still hurt by it. I mean, like, what did she expect?" "And Sarah?" "I'm like, y'know, I'm a little burnt from doing it with her. I mean, like I said, it's totally different. I mean, I feel like I almost need a rest. Y'know?" "Yeah. But like, couldn't it be just her? I mean, couldn't her power mantle have something to do with it? I mean, might it be, y'know, different with different goddesses?" "I guess. I guess that makes sense." "I hope I find out. Like I hope I can do like a research paper on it, and like compare all of them," Minion said, chuckling. "Well there're only a couple of hundred, you know." "Yeah, but there are three more cities with the goddesses, don't forget," Minion said. "I know, but we're definitely Agoopi mortals, and the other pantheons probably wouldn't view us with much favor." "I don't know man. I've heard about mortals who work for gods in all four cities, you know, just to who pays the most." "Yeah, but no one can trust 'em. It's like, I think you totally have to choose a city. Y'know? It makes sense. So that the gods and goddesses trust you. Y'know?" "Yeah," Minion said. Daptin put the blue jacket on and looked at himself in the mirror, running his fingers through his full head of dark green hair. "I look like a total dummy. I have to look cool to be a cool mortal who goes on cool missions. Right?" "You look about as good as an Arctican can, Gone." "Hah hah. Very funny. I thought the Arctican jokes would stop once I gained all this power, but I guess that was too much to hope for." "And c'mon man, we're not all that powerful yet. Let's not get ahead of ourselves, dude. Now we have to know our place in the scheme of things." "Oh shut up." "Just trying to be helpful." "Well, all I'll say is, I'm no stranger to power, that's all." "Okay man. We'll see. We'll see how well you do on this mission." "I'm sure I'll do just fine." "I don't know. What's the mission all about, anyway?" Minion asked. "We don't know yet. But they say it will involve going over to Boltpike." "I was over there before. It's pretty cool." "Yeah I know. I never went there yet. I see it on TV a lot. I guess I'll be there in a few hours." "Yeah." As they said this, Fake Cerquaine walked into the room, a short-haired, keen-looking girl from Spoin 5th, the dorm floor at Thatterine College where Tanner Loblolly, Martin Fovea, and Minion Van Hall also currently lived. Daptin had lived there several years earlier. "Ready ready ready for the mission, Daptin?" she asked. "I'm as ready as I'll ever be," Daptin said, looking back into the mirror and fussing with his hair again. "You look fine. We're supposed to be able to blend in, remember? No notoriety, no outrageous features. That's why we're valuable to the Caxopys." "Uh-huh," Daptin said. "So come on, let's go, it's getting late, and we're supposed to stop by that store on the way there to get some stuff," Fake said. "I know I know," Daptin said. "I guess we may as well go now." "Gonna say bye-bye to Sarah?" Fake asked. "I can't like--this is y'know--I can't believe how everyone is like so into my life. I mean, it is sort of personal, y'know?" "Daptin," Fake said, "you found it with a goddess. And not just any goddess, but Spanking New Sarah. You know how everyone lusts after her? And you, you go right in and score on the first try." "What, you lust after her too?" Minion said. "No stupid, but I know a lot of guys around here who do. And I guess a few women, too." "Well you said everyone." "Don't take everything so literally, Minion. I mean, when I call you a total retard I don't mean it like you're really retarded, just that you act like it a lot. Get it?" "Got it." "Good." "Yeah," Daptin said with a sigh. "You can tell me all about her on the way to The Caxopy Group. Now let us go," Fake said, bouncing up and down a few times and turning toward the door. "Yeah," Daptin said, following Fake to the door. "I just hope the salespeople at the store don't like start asking me about Sarah and stuff." "You knew it would be like this, dude, before you even did it," Minion chided. "You went where no Thatter ever went before." "We don't know that," Daptin said. "Well, we'll just have to ask Cursive Caxopy to check her records and see if any Thatterine College student ever had sex with Spanking New Sarah," Fake said, opening the door and stepping into the hallway, followed by Daptin. "I meant any goddess, not just Sarah the Spanker," Minion yelled after them. "She doesn't spank, Minion. And I should know," Daptin yelled back. "She's just 'spanking new'!" Fake said derisively. "Whatever," Daptin said as he shut the door behind him. The two walked down to the elevator bay and Daptin pressed the down button. "Let's do it," Daptin said, nodding. "This mission is gonna be wild." The elevator came and they took it down to the lobby of the Supbam Hotel. "Oh look, isn't that Well Doctarca over there?" Fake said as they stepped out of the elevator. "Yeah, that's him." The god Well Doctarca approached the two on his way to the elevators. "Hello Daptin," said Well, looking dark and preoccupied in his armor as usual. "Hi Well," Daptin responded. Well turned away from the two and faced closed elevator doors. "What's the matter, Well?" Daptin asked after several moments of silence. "I've no desire to converse with you," Well said. "Huh?" Daptin said, surprised. "What's up? I mean--" "--come on Daptin. We have a mission to go on, remember?" Fake said, pulling Daptin away. "Uh, yeah. Well, bye-bye Well. Yeah. Well well well, let's not be too rude, shall we? Have a nice day, uh, y'know, like being friendly and all," Daptin said in a clumsy manner as Fake dragged him away. Well didn't flinch. Fake and Daptin left the hotel and headed for the store. "What was that all about?" Fake asked. "I don't know," Daptin replied. "I know he got pissed off when I asked him a lot of questions at a party I went to with El the other day, but he was civil after that at the party. I mean--maybe it's this whole Sarah thing. That's probably it." "You think it was wise to tell him off like you just did?" "Frankly, I'm not afraid of these goons. They're not all that powerful, in the scheme of things." "Goons? I think you're getting carried away with yourself. Even the most experienced mortals aren't as powerful as the gods. You know that." "Well, maybe I'm not just a mortal--or something--y'know?" "You're full of it," Fake said. "So what if I am?" "You have the directions to the store or what?" "Yeah," Daptin said, reaching into his pocket. "Right here." After a fifteen-minute walk they arrived at Basement-Wall-Thursday Mortal Supply. Inside the store, Nashin-Yogo said "I wonder when those two Caxopy whelps will show up." "Oh, I think they're here now," his assistant Confetti Plura remarked. And the two walked into the ancient store from the weedy street outside. Nashin-Yogo, the tall, long-haired, mustached owner of the store addressed the two. "Hello. You must be the two come to equip for your first assignment for the Caxopys. I'm Nashin-Yogo and this is Confetti Plura." Confetti, a woman with short, curly dark hair and a large pair of glasses nodded at Daptin and Fake. "Yeah hi," Daptin said. "We're uh, Elaine, uh, Elaine Caxopy told us to come over here to get like the stuff we would need for the mission and stuff, but uh--" "--she said you'd know what we would need and stuff. I mean, we never shopped at a place like this before," Fake said. "Hmm," Nashin-Yogo said. "But we certainly heard about this sort of place," Fake added. "Yeah," Daptin said. "Well, since Elaine didn't tell me anything about the mission, I can't tell you what to get. Just browse around and see what you like," Nashin-Yogo said. "And don't be afraid to ask for help," Confetti added. Daptin and Fake looked around at the huge variety of things and were a little bewildered. "Could you, uh, like show us some good stuff?" Daptin said. "I mean, we're running a little late as it is and there's much too much stuff in here to check out right now." "Yeah," Fake agreed. "Well, that shouldn't be any problem. Let's see what we have around here," Nashin-Yogo said as he began to rummage around behind the counter. "Come on up!" Confetti said, and Daptin and Fake climbed the short flight of stairs to the main counter. As they did, they noticed a weird, cloaked figure at the other end of the counter, who they hadn't been able to see before. The stranger looked over at them for a moment, and then went back to browsing. "Now, I hope you two have some idea of what being a mortal involves. We have to deal with some very, very dangerous things," Nashin-Yogo said dramatically. "We have some idea of it, but we're not totally familiar with it," Fake said. Nashin-Yogo nodded as he continued rummaging behind the counter. "Here's something good!" Confetti said suddenly, holding up a little uninflated green balloon. "Well, you take care of 'em, Plura, I have to go help you-know-who," Nashin-Yogo said as he walked away toward the strange individual at the other end of the counter. "What's so good about that balloon?" Daptin asked. "It's not just any balloon," Confetti said. "It's a slay balloon. Much, much better than an average balloon." "In what way?" Fake asked. "Blow it up and pop it, and everything around you will be annihilated." "Wouldn't that kill you, too?" Fake asked. "Not at all. There's a safe area in the immediate vicinity of the slay balloon. And as an added feature, the destructive wave is proportional to the degree the balloon is inflated." "So does it like kill people?" Daptin asked. "Well, it'll kill killable people, certainly. No problem." "Well Fake, whattaya think? Pretty useful, eh?" Daptin said. "Definitely. How much?" "Oh, you can get whatever you want and put it on the Caxopys' account," Confetti said. "Cool! We'll take a lot of 'em," Daptin said. "One great gross enough?" Confetti asked, holding up a large black box. "How many is that?" Fake asked. "I dunno. A lot," Confetti replied. "Sounds good to me," Fake said. "Sold!" "What else?" Daptin asked. "Let's see... oh, here's something good," Confetti said as she knelt down. Then she lifted a cinder block to the countertop. It was gray, with two large holes in it, looking a little like the Roman number III, viewed from the side. "A brick?" Fake asked. "A cinder block," Confetti replied. "Does it have any special powers or is it just normal?" Daptin asked. "Now come on," Confetti said, "at Basement-Wall-Thursday we don't sell regular cinder blocks. No, it's about as intelligent as a dog, and it can fly. Want one?" "Let me see," Fake said. "Okay--cinder block, fly around the room, knock over the green vase, and return to the counter," Confetti commanded. With this, the cinder block flipped wildly into the air, knocked over a green plastic vase, swung around the interior of the store, and returned deftly to the countertop. "Whew! I'll take it!" Fake said. "Sold!" "I want one too!" Daptin said. "Sorry, last one." "Oh!" Daptin whined. "Don't worry, I have something for you," Confetti said, reaching under the counter and pulling something out to show him. "Swizzle sticks?" Daptin queried. "No! They're fucking morons, silly!" "Fucking what?" Daptin asked. "Fucking morons! When you break one of the sticks, a stupid fucking idiot will soon show up and befriend you for a few days. Very useful." "Huh? What good is a fucking moron? And where do they come from?" Daptin asked. "They can be helpful. They carry things, confuse enemies, test food for poison, y'know. And they're extremely amusing." "Oh man," Daptin said. "But they don't like," Fake interjected, "they don't like fuck--like, they aren't called fucking morons cuz they like, y'know, have sex with people, right?" "Now that's sick. You have a sick mind, girl. Of course not," Confetti said. "Well I had to ask, this stuff is so whacked." "No, they don't fuck but they're quite delightful otherwise. You want 'em?" "Okay what the hell," Daptin said. "Sold to the enthusiastic Arctican," Confetti said, pointing to Daptin with a handful of the colorful plastic sticks. "Thank you," Daptin said. "What else? What else?" Fake said excitedly. "Hmm--oh yes. Yes. How could I forget these... these... these..." Confetti said as she rummaged. "These what?" Daptin asked. "These... socks!" Confetti said, producing two pairs of yellow socks covered with lavender polka dots. "Oh, beautiful," Daptin commented. "Not only beautiful, but distinctive!" Confetti said. "Huh?" Daptin asked. "Distinctive time socks. Very, very useful. You know how a clock goes to 59 and then back to zero? Well--not with these socks on. You get to 99 with these." "What?" Fake asked, examining her cinder block. "You get to 59, just like normal," Confetti explained. "But then, with the socks on, instead of going back to zero, you get to 60. You have a whole 40 minutes to yourself--no one else around. Distinctive time. Get it?" "What do you mean no one else? What happens to 'em?" Daptin asked. "They all go back to zero, while you, if you're wearing the socks, go right on to 60." "But where are the other people, physically?" Daptin said. "Every living thing goes right to zero like I said, but inanimate objects all have that extra 40 minutes. And with these socks on, you can too," Confetti explained. "So it's like time stops?" Daptin asked. "Sort of, in terms of everyone else. But everything is normal, except that nothing living is there, except sock-wearers." "Sounds pretty damn good to me! We'll take 'em," Daptin said. "Cinder block, fly around," Fake said, and with these words the cinder block arose and began to fly haphazardly around the store. "Pretty cool," Daptin said. "I wish I had one." "Well now--uh--what's your name again?" Confetti asked Daptin. "Daptin. Uh, Daptin Gone." "Oh! You're the one who slept with Spanking New Sarah!" Confetti said. "That's him. My name is Fake, by the way," Fake said, jumping down the stairs to chase her cinder block. "This is, like, nuts. How can everyone know about this so soon? If I'd known, I'd have had second thoughts." "Yeah right. Come land gently in my hands, cinder block!" Fake said, and the block swung around and landed gracefully into her outstretched hands. "Whoah! You're pretty heavy!" she said as she took on the weight of the block. "Look Confetti, forget about this Sarah thing. I want something as cool as the cinder block," Daptin said. "The socks are pretty cool," Confetti responded. "Yeah, but there're two pairs. I want something cool and unique, just like the block." "Daptin, cinder blocks are pretty common, it's just that that's our last one for awhile," Confetti said. "Well." "Okay, let me see what I can dig up," Confetti said as she turned around and started looking around on some shelves. After a few moments, she sighed and began to climb up the shelves. "I--uh--don't go out of your way on my account..." Daptin said in a worried tone. "Well, I have to find you something good, don't I?" "Yeah but..." Confetti clung onto the shelves and peered into a dark corner of a high shelf. "Aha! What's this?" She reached out, grabbed something, and then half fell and half jumped back to the ground. "Oonf!" "Are you okay?" Daptin asked. From the other end of the store, Fake said "Do ballet, cinder block!" "Yes Daptin. Just a little shaken. Now let's see what I got." "What is it?" "Oh goodness," Confetti said, looking at what appeared to be a magic marker. "Goodness." "What is it? What is it? Is it good?" Daptin said. "Uh..." Confetti began slowly. "I don't know if..." "What is it? A pen?" "Well I'll tell you," Confetti said with a sigh. "It's a geometric weight marker, but I thought we'd seen the last of these." "Cool!" "But Daptin, these markers are very, very dangerous. Maybe I should ask Nashin-Yogo if--" "--just hold on a second. What does it do, first of all?" "Well the idea is pretty simple. The ink from the marker, once dry, begins to get heavier and heavier at a geometric rate, until it eventually bores into the ground." "That sounds pretty good!" "Yeah, but if you get even a little bit on your skin, it'll rip your skin right off eventually--and there's no way to stop it." "Ouch." Across the store, the cinder block was clumsily spinning and stumbling around. "Ballet! Ballet!" Fake said. "What if you wash it off right away?" "It works if you do it real quick, but you need the right solvent. And we've been out of solvent for decades." "Hmm. I think I can handle it. I'll take it." "Okay Daptin," Confetti said, "but I think you should get some situation grenades with it, just in case you get some on your skin." "Uh--you expect me to know what that is?" "No, so I'll tell you. They're grenades that demolish local situation and force it to reravel. So if you got geometrically marked, you could detonate a situation grenade and totally get out of the situation." "That sounds like the best thing yet! I want a lot of them!" "Sold," Confetti said. "Follow me, cinder block," Fake said as she came back up to the counter. "Now land on the counter." The cinder block landed on the counter, carefully avoiding a cup of soda Confetti had been drinking. "I think that thing's a little more intelligent than a dog," Daptin said. "I think it's even smarter than you, Daptin," Fake said with a grin. "Haha," Daptin said. "What else can we get?" Fake asked. "Well?" Daptin asked of Confetti. "How 'bout the books in that case over there?" Fake asked, pointing. "Oh no," Confetti said. "Skoobs are for very experienced mortals only. Don't even think of getting any." "Why not?" Daptin asked. "Because, they're extremely unstable. Just imagine a book carried between worlds in totally the wrong way. They're backward, inside-out, unreal, destroyed, infinite, brooding, wonderful--and they're totally off limits." "Not even one?" Daptin asked. "Forget it," Confetti said. "Try these." Confetti reached under the counter and produced a canister, opened it, and poured a few dried peas into her hand." "Conductor voice peas," she said. "Come again?" Daptin said. "Eat 'em and you'll sound like a train conductor over a distorted train loudspeaker. Very fun." "What good are they?" Daptin said. "I don't know. Be creative." "Okay! Why not! I'll take 'em." "Heh heh. Won't Cursive and Elaine be surprised when they see their bill." "Well, let's not worry about that now," Daptin said. "We just have to get all the stuff we need and get over there to The Caxopy Group." "Oh Daptin, there's no rush," Fake said. "What else, Confetti?" The three heard a loud moaning from somewhere in the store, but it quickly subsided. "Well Fake," Confetti said, lugging a big cardboard box up to the counter, "how about some huge tin clocks?" The box was neatly packed with little tin cuckoo clocks the size of cigarette packs. "They don't look very huge to me," Daptin said. "Aha, but if you throw one up in the air, it'll become an immense clock in the sky--much to the horror of all who view it." "This stuff is just right over the edge, like, I mean, I don't know. I mean, I'll take it. Whatever," Daptin said, shaking his head. "Great!" Confetti said. "What's that popcorn over there?" Fake asked, pointing. "Goodbye popcorn. Eat it, and you can say goodbye to existence for a few hours." "Is it dangerous?" Fake asked. "Not at all. It just makes you not exist for awhile, that's all." "Wow, I could use some of that!" Fake said. "Sold." "Like, what do you mean out of existence? Where do you go?" Daptin asked. "Nowhere. You wanna try it?" Confetti said, grabbing a bag of goodbye popcorn. "No way!" "Go ahead. If you just eat a tiny bit you'll be gone for less than a minute. Try it. It's fun," Confetti said, opening the bag. "Oh go ahead and do it," Fake said. "I don't know." Confetti took a piece of popcorn out of the bag and carefully broke off a tiny bit, handing it to Daptin. "Don't be afraid of it! It won't do anything if you don't eat it!" Confetti said, smiling. Daptin hesitantly took the small piece of goodbye popcorn and examined it. "Just eat it, Daptin. You'll be back before you know it," Confetti said. Daptin looked back and forth at Confetti and Fake. "Oh come on, don't be a chicken," Fake jeered. "If you can do it with Spanking New Sarah, you can eat a little goodbye popcorn." "That's it--I can't stand talking about that any more. Here goes!" Daptin said as he tossed the piece of popcorn into his mouth. He began to chew it briefly, and then quickly vanished. "Wha!" Fake exclaimed. "He should be back in less than a minute," Confetti said. "How does it work?" Fake asked. "Now that's a question to be answered another day. Not that anyone really knows, but people certainly have their ideas." "But like, where does all this stuff come from? Who makes it?" Fake asked. "I can't get into that with you right now. Sorry," Confetti said. "Whatever." "Well, while we're waiting for Daptin, let's see what else you need. Hmm," Confetti said, looking around. "Ah yes--no mortal is happy without an infinite-ammo submachinegun. Here ya go." Confetti reached under the counter and produced a two different-looking submachineguns. "Like, guns, like, to kill people?" Fake asked. "Yeah. And to destroy stuff, propel boats, signal cohorts, open doors, whatever. If you need metal, you have a never-ending supply in one of these babies. The bullets make good ballast, if you find yourself in need of ballast, that is." "Well yeah, but I'm not sure about the killing people part." "Hey, it's your gun--kill or don't kill as you choose, y'know?" "Yeah." "This is," the two heard Daptin say off to the right. "Oh you're back," Fake said. "This is what," Daptin said, approaching the two. "He'll be dazed for a few seconds. You always are upon hatching back into reality," Confetti said. "This... I am back, I... I, the popcorn, I... oh man." "See Daptin, it works. And here, have a machinegun," Fake said, handing Daptin one of the infinite-ammo submachineguns. "Thanks," Daptin said, taking the gun. "Y'know, I don't remember anything. How long was I gone?" "Only about thirty or forty seconds," Fake said. "Huh. Some trip," Daptin said, examining his machinegun. "What's so good about this?" "Infinite ammo," Confetti said. "Cool," Daptin replied. "Oh--" Confetti said. "While you were gone I found the perfect item for you. You're from Arctica right? Am I right?" "Yes I'm from Arctica. Not like the green hair gives it away or anything," Daptin said. "Well Daptin, just look at this," Confetti said as she produced what appeared to be a brown vest engulfed in a blue-gray fire. "Ah--what the hell is that?" Daptin asked. "It's a frost flame delimiter, silly! Just got it in. I thought it would be perfect for you, like a wintry cold sort of theme, y'know?" "Yeah, well I'm certainly familiar with the cold. But that thing's like on fire--isn't it just the opposite--hot?" "Frost flame, it's frost flame. A fire which burns cold. Nothing like it on Earth. This delimiter preserves it from wherever it came from. But you wear it like a vest, and you can wield the flame to do a lot of useful stuff." "Won't I freeze?" Daptin asked. "No--you'll assimilate to it soon enough. The wearer doesn't get very cold, and you can regulate the flame. The best part is you can shoot it out, extend it, y'know, basically wield it. I figured since Fake got the cinder block I'd give you this. Lucky I found it before someone else bought it." "Well, what the hell. I dislocated myself from the world with popcorn, why not don a cold-burning vest?" Daptin said as he took the frost flame delimiter from Confetti and put it on over his blue jacket. The gray flame danced all about him. "Ooh, cold!" Daptin said. "It'll always feel cold when you first put it on, but you'll feel normal soon enough. Here--do a test," Confetti said, holding out her half-full cup of soda. "Extend the flame to engulf the cup, to chill my soda." Daptin pointed his hand toward the soda and willed the flame to reach outward. Jerkily, the frost flame licked the cup and quickly chilled it. "That's all there is to it. If you can will the flame to do that, you can eventually learn to will it to do anything," Confetti said, taking a sip of her chilled beverage. "Hmm. Now this I like. It's getting comfortable already." "Well now we have a lot of stuff. I wonder if we can even carry it all," Fake said. "Yeah. We have more than enough stuff for the mission. I guess we should get going soon," Daptin said. "Well here, before you go, take some caviar," Confetti said, placing several glass containers of caviar on the countertop. "Okay Confetti, what special properties does the caviar have?" Daptin asked. "Does it turn you into a finch? Teleport barrels? Do sky writing?" "No, it's just ordinary caviar, compliments of the house. We always have lots of it around. Nothing weird," Confetti said. "Hmm. Interesting," Fake commented. "But if you ever do want to turn into a finch, or teleport barrels, or do sky writing, stop by again and I'm sure we'll be able to accommodate you," Confetti said with a smile. "I'll remember that," Daptin said. "But the clocks--they're sort of like sky writing. Y'know?" "A little. I guess you could carve writing into one. I never saw it done before, but it's certainly possible," Confetti said. "Well--so how do we pack all this stuff up?" Fake asked. "Okay, let me add this up," Confetti said. "There's the cinder block, which I can see you're very happy with, Fake. Then there's the socks, and the fucking morons, and the great gross of slay balloons. Okay. And the marker--now Daptin, be extremely careful with that thing--they've been known to topple office buildings, so just be cool with it. Alright? Okay--the situation grenades of course, the huge tin clocks, the free caviar, the frost flame delimiter you're wearing, the submachineguns. Now what am I forgetting? Oh yeah--three bags of goodbye popcorn, and--what else? I know there's one more thing..." "Yeah, the special peas. Right?" Daptin said. "Oh yes--one canister of conductor voice peas. These are great fun." "Life of the party," Daptin said. Confetti looked over the bill she had been writing. "Okay, everything looks to be in order!" Confetti said with an approving expression. "Yeah, but how're we gonna carry the stuff all the way over to the Caxopys?" Daptin asked. "And how much does it all cost?" Fake queried. "Don't worry about it," Came a voice from behind them. They turned to see the leather-clad Cursive Caxopy with a lit cigarette in her hand. "Oh hi Cursive," Confetti said. "Just finished equipping your proteges." "I see. I see," Cursive said. "I'm glad you're here. You can help us carry all this stuff back to your place," Daptin said. "Oh, no need. We can use my disappear simulator to disappear over there," Cursive said. "You can disappear like the gods?" Fake asked. "Of course I can--can't you, Fake?" "No." "Well, gather all your junk up and let's go. I came by because you're late. This mission is time-sensitive, and we have to get it started. Come on you two." "Hey okay," Daptin said. "One pile of junk coming right up," Fake said. Just then, Elaine Caxopy, Cursive's sister and business partner, walked into Basement-Wall-Thursday Mortal Supply. She wore a pretty, light-blue dress--the antithesis of Cursive's hard attire. "Oh, you're here. I was just coming by to see if our two recruits are all set," Elaine said. "They're done," Cursive said, taking a drag on her cigarette. "We were about to disappear over in my simulator." "Well," Elaine said, looking a little hesitant, "okay. But my truck's outside. You'll take care of it, won't you Confetti?" "Of course," Confetti said, and Elaine tossed her the keys to the truck. "No need to gather 'round--I'm good at this," Cursive said. The next moment, Cursive, Elaine, Daptin and Fake were in the offices of The Caxopy Group. "Nice simulation," Elaine said. Cursive didn't reply. "Well you two, come on. We have a cup of coffee to show you," Elaine said urgently. -SR- ============================== CUPLINE 1: GOODBYE POPCORN CHAPTER 3 SR-003 ============================== -------------------------- CHAPTER 9 sr09 01.3.1--Caxopy Group -------------------------- ============================== "Notice the strange glyphs on the styrofoam--we haven't been able to match these to any known form of writing," Elaine Caxopy said to Daptin Gone and Fake Cerquaine, gingerly holding a twenty-ounce styrofoam coffee cup with a plastic lid. "Probably just a silly corporate logo," Cursive Caxopy said with a sneer. "So this is our mission?" Daptin asked. "Buying coffee?" "Don't be an idiot," Cursive said tersely. "I just thought--" Daptin started. "Would we need all these supplies just to buy coffee, Daptin?" Fake said. "I mean--maybe there're some weird, super weird coffee shops or delis in Boltpike. I mean I don't know," Daptin said. "You can see the coffee's still hot--you can see the steam. They must've just got it--and without our help," Fake said. "You're both very, very, very mistaken," Elaine said. "Open your minds and listen. This is the Cup of Coffee. And we didn't just get it--in fact, by our estimates it's well over 40,000 years old. Now just wait--there's more. Hold on a second." With this, Elaine placed the cup carefully on her desk. "Tavmatey--are you with us?" Elaine asked, facing the cup. Silence. "Tavmatey Numblem--if you can hear me, please respond. Please. We have two new friends here." "Well I don't--" Daptin began. "Quiet!" Elaine snapped as she held out her arm. Then a small voice emerged from deep within the cup. "Hi Elaine," said the distant yet distinctly husky female voice. "Hi Tav. The two are here, the two we told you about last time we talked. Remember?" Elaine said, staring distantly at the cup. After a pause, Tavmatey said "I remember. The rescue team." "That's right. They're off to Boltpike to retrieve you," Elaine said. "Oh boy, I can't wait to get out of here," Tavmatey said. "Now is she in the cup in some way," Faked asked, "or is it just a means of communicating?" "Good question," Cursive said. "We're not entirely sure, but we know one thing--the sound of the girl's voice gets louder in some places and softer in others. And by mapping our various readings, we've determined that she must be somewhere in Boltpike." "So there it is," Elaine said. "You have to go into Boltpike with the cup and find where the voice is the loudest. Your relative anonymity will be of great help--if one of us were seen wandering about Boltpike listening to a cup of coffee, there'd be trouble for sure." "Yeah, but like--when we get there, to where the voice is loudest, then what?" Daptin asked, staring at the cup. "At that point things will be getting clearer for you," Elaine said. "You should be able to perceive some sort of entryway--a door, a hatch, a curtain, a window--something. This will likely be a one-way portal of some class. So remember--and this is vitally important--do not go all the way through the portal. No. Just go halfway, and you should be able to see Tavmatey. At this point, she can come back to The Avert Cities with you. But be careful--we don't want you getting stuck too." Daptin's stomach growled loudly. "Hungry, Daptin?" Cursive asked. "Um yeah," Daptin replied. "The only thing I ate today was a Twix." "Twix?" Cursive asked. "Isn't that a candy bar from the future?" "Uh, no. As far as I know, Twix has been around for a few years. Maybe you're thinking of a new flavor they're working on?" "No..." Cursive said, looking down. "I guess it was some other candy bar from the future I was thinking of." "Do you time travel?" Fake asked. "Yeah," Cursive said distantly. "Sometimes." "Cool," Daptin said, nodding. "I'd like a Twix," came Tavmatey's little voice from the cup. "I think I remember it. Caramel cookie treats?" "With chocolate," Fake said. Tavmatey didn't reply, so Fake looked around and then moved her face closer to the cup. "With chocolate," she repeated. "Yeah," Tavmatey said. "I'll order out for the briefing," Cursive said. "Any preferences you two, foodwise?" "Pasta beverage and crullers might be good," Fake suggested. "Um--maybe some eight eggs with filberts or something? Or custard grain?" Daptin said. "You can have pizza, pizza, pizza, pizza, pizza, pizza, or pizza," Cursive said. "Some selection," Fake said. "Could you repeat the list, Cursive?" Daptin asked. "Pizza. Wow," came Tavmatey's voice. "Well I'm ordering from Xould Pete's Camera. And they have pizza," Cursive said, almost belligerently. "Fine! Like why'd ya ask then?" Daptin wondered. "To see what foods you like. You can tell a lot about a guy from what he eats," Cursive said. "What about a gal?" Fake asked. "Why, are you a gal, Fake?" Cursive asked, taking her cigarette from her lips. "You could say that," Fake said. "Well," Cursive said, looking from Fake to Daptin, "what will we have to drink?" "Pepsi, Pepsi, Pepsi, Pepsi or Pepsi?" Daptin asked. "What, are you funny? Xould Pete's Camera is a great restaurant. They have every drink ever," Cursive said shaking her head back and forth in a flippant manner. "Well then I suppose I'll have a Mr. Pibb. They do have that, I trust?" Daptin said. "Of fucking course!" Cursive said. "And you, gal?" "Hmm... how about... Diet Cool Ranch Tempura Honeysuckle Nectar Beer Classic?" Fake asked. "You made it up," Cursive said. "I drink that all the time here," came Tavmatey's voice. "Come on, don't make up stories," Elaine said toward the cup. "Just trying to make conversation. So I never drank it. But it sounds good," Tavmatey said. "Now something real," Cursive said. "It is real--from the future," Fake said. "As a mortal, I'll be fabulously wealthy, and I'll eventually bottle my delectable drink. So it exists somewhere in superreality--and if they have everything, they should have the cool ranch honeysuckle whatever I said." "You're a little wise ass, but I like you," Cursive said to Fake. "For you, antimatter iced espresso." "Fine," Fake said, a bit irritated. "And I'll take a camera, too," Daptin said. "Cool your jets, tiger. I can take just so much dead-on sarcastic wit in a day," Cursive said as she got up to walk out of the room. "Food'll be here in fifteen." "Okay," Elaine said. A quarter hour later Cursive arrived back with the food, and the four entered a conference room on the third floor of The Caxopy Group, along with the Cup of Coffee. "So I wanna discuss this whole killing thing," Daptin said. "What do you mean?" Elaine asked. "I mean, a lot of the stuff we got at Basement-Wall-Thursday seems designed with killing people in mind. And I know, I mean, there was a light atmosphere there, but like, are we really gonna be expected to kill people?" Daptin wondered. "Whereas this line of work might seem silly and fun to the uninitiated," Cursive said, "we still speak the universal language--violence. One branching of violence is killing. When one bars your path, he can resist all reasoning, but he cannot resist superior force, by definition. The gentle is myth. While it might seem snuggly to harmlessly tranquilize all opponents, the truth is that when dealing in violence, serious injury and murder is unavoidable." "I have something which might help you with this moral queasiness," Elaine said as she walked over to a desk, opened a drawer, and took out a black metal coin, a little bigger than a silver dollar. "What is it?" Fake asked. "Have a look," Elaine said as she handed the coin to Fake. Fake took the coin and examined it. On the front it had the face of an angry looking fellow wearing circle-framed glasses with wind blowing through his hair. Below the portrait were the words "Him: Scientist". On the back was a rendition of a sort of huge pillar with some people at its base staring up at it. Several eight-digit numbers also adorned the back. "Cool," Fake said. "My Dad would love this. He's big into numismatics." "No one on Earth would recognize it," Cursive said. "Let me see," Daptin said. Fake handed the coin to Daptin across the big table, as Cursive smiled at Elaine. "Pretty neat. What is he, a famous scientist around here?" Daptin said. Elaine smiled but said nothing. "What's wrong?" Daptin said. "Feel any different?" asked Cursive. "No--should I?" Daptin said. "Not too different," Elaine said, smiling. "But you are changed." "Am I changed too?" asked Fake. "Yes," Cursive said. "What is it?" asked Daptin, placing the coin carefully onto the table. "That's a killable coin. By touching it, you're no longer killable. Congratulations," Cursive said. "What?" Daptin asked, contorting his face in confusion. "You can't be killed anymore," Elaine said. "Me too?" Fake asked. "Yup," Cursive replied. "But," Daptin said, "we're like, we're mortals, right? Mortal means we're going to die, right? So what--" "--as mortals we will eventually die, unlike the gods, who live forever," Elaine said. "But with this technique, we can prevent premature death." "So how long do we live?" Fake asked. "Hundreds, thousands, even tens of thousands of years," Cursive said. "A drop in the bucket of a god's lifetime. But enough of this dark talk--let's eat! Lots of pizza for all, and beverages galore." Cursive took a number of cups and cans out of a bag. "Where's my Mr. Pibb?" Daptin asked. "All out. I got you Blueberry Mello Yello instead," Cursive said, handing him a blue and yellow can. "Never heard of blueberry-flavored Mello Yello," Daptin said, examining the can. "Now you have. And here's your antimatter iced espresso, Fake, my dear," Cursive said, handing Fake a black and bright-orange bottle. "There isn't real antimatter in here, is there?" Fake asked, taking the bottle. "A trace amount of antineutrons. Gives it a fruity flavor," Cursive replied. "Well, it says on the bottle that it's completely safe, so I'll take their word for it," Fake said. "What'd you get?" Daptin asked Cursive. "Oh," Cursive said, holding up a colorful can, "I got a can of Diet Cool Ranch Tempura Honeysuckle Nectar Beer Classic. They had it after all." "Hey that's mine!" Fake exclaimed. "Hey babe, you agreed on the espresso. Get your own DCRTHNBC," Cursive replied. "Oooh!" Fake said angrily. "And here's your Cotton Anti, Elaine," Cursive said, handing Elaine a large boxed beverage. "Antimatter cotton drink. Now this is good stuff," Elaine said. "Antimatter drinks are big these days in Agoopish, if you two hadn't noticed," Cursive said. "Hey, why is my Blueberry Mello Yello green?" Daptin asked, pouring his drink into a clear plastic cup. "Blue and yellow is green. Q.E.D.," Cursive said. "Maybe I could have some water? Some distilled, chemically pure water?" Daptin asked. "Come on--drink it. It's good for you!" Cursive said. "Let me see that Cool Ranch Nectar whatever can!" Fake said loudly to Cursive. Just then, a buzzer went off. "Jerald's here," Elaine said. "Jerald will be helping you on your mission," Cursive said with a smile. "Can!" Fake yelled. Cursive placed the can on the table and left the room. Fake reached across the table and grabbed the can. "Wow. It's just what I said. So they did have it," Fake said, bewildered. "So they have an algorithmic beverage generator--so what," Elaine said. "Are you guys gonna retrieve me," Tavmatey said from within the Cup of Coffee, "or are you gonna talk about drinks all day long?" "We'll get to you," Elaine said. "I hope so," said Tavmatey. "Here's Jerald," Cursive said as she entered the room with heavyset fellow with short, straight blond hair. "Jerald Hapal Hatch," Elaine said, "meet Fake Cerquaine and Daptin Gone." "Hullo," Jerald said. "Hi," said Daptin and Fake. "Jerald's from Fiestarkoon. Found Agoopish a few weeks ago just like you guys," Cursive said. "You guys are from Baskonontana, right?" Jerald asked. "Well, I live there now, but I'm originally from Arctica," Daptin said. "I'm a native Powerssippian myself," added Fake. "The best area in Baskonontana, if I do say so myself." "Huh," Jerald said. "Have a seat, Jerald. We have a lot to discuss," Elaine said. "Pizza?" Jerald asked. "All in good time," Cursive responded. -SR- ============================== CUPLINE 1: GOODBYE POPCORN CHAPTER 4 SR-004 ============================== -------------------------- CHAPTER 11 sr11 01.3.2--Mission -------------------------- ============================== Several hours after their meeting at The Caxopy Group, Jerald, Fake, and Daptin were on Earth. They stood in a service corridor in the Fozsapple Circle Mall in Plutomiana, Baskonontana. Daptin was wearing his frost flame delimiter, a vest which burned with a cold blue-gray flame. Fake's intelligent cinder block hovered a few feet above her. Jerald wore a cowboy hat. "Why'd we have to come back to Earth and ride in Cursive's dumb station wagon for 45 minutes?" Jerald asked. "Couldn't we get to Boltpike directly from Agoopish?" "Get the shit outta your ears, Hatch," Fake said. "You know this is a much more obscure entrance to Boltpike, and therefore, a safer one." "Yeah," Daptin said, kneeling down, placing the Cup of Coffee on the ground, and adjusting his infinite-ammo submachinegun on its strap around his shoulder. "I just hope we can get over to that record store and over the bridge before mall security begins to hassle us." "Who cares?" Jerald said. "We can smoke 'em no problem with our weapons." "Jerald!" Fake said, turning around and pointing her finger in his face. "We cannot afford any incidents here on Earth! And I for one am not prepared to hurt anybody unless we absolutely have to, whether or not we're invulnerable." "Who says we're invulnerable?" Jerald asked, stroking his infinite-ammo submachinegun. "The coin, dummy," Fake said. "What coin?" Jerald asked. "The black coin, the killable one. Didn't you touch it?" Daptin asked, carefully picking the Cup of Coffee back up and standing. "What are you talking about? I never saw any coin," Jerald said. "Well, just forget it then," Daptin said, opening the door leading into the mall proper a little to peer out. "What do you mean forget it? They gave you a power and forgot to give it to me?" Jerald asked, upset. "I guess they did," Fake said, annoyed. "Maybe they didn't feel you deserved it." "I deserve it! Hey, I deserve it! Let's go back and let me get it!" Jerald moaned. "Listen, you ass-backward Fiestarkoon idiot--this mission will go forward as planned. Get it?" Fake said angrily. "I'm not prepared to go any further with you elitist Baskonontanans. I'm going back to Agoopish and get my coin," Jerald whined. Daptin turned to face Jerald, his hands inches from his gun. "This mission will go forward as we've been instructed," Daptin said. "Don't second guess the Caxopys--they've been doing this since before our parents had sex to conceive us. For whatever reason, they appointed Fake as group leader for this mission--so her word is final." "Don't threaten me," Jerald said. "You're threatening me, just cuz I can be killed and you can't. I won't have it." "Jerald!" Fake yelled. "If you hadn't noticed, we're all on the same team. We're not threatening you. Elaine showed us the coin for a reason--because we were concerned about the possibility of killing. She thought if we were invulnerable, it might desensitize us a little. And reluctant as I am to admit it, I do feel less sensitive on the matter now that my own death is precluded." "And you, Jerald," Daptin said. "You didn't need such a treatment, with your gung ho, 'let's kill some innocent mall security guards' attitude. Get some brains, man. Just because we have the power doesn't mean we have the right to abuse it. I mean, did you ever kill anyone? Do you know what it is to live the rest of your life with that memory?" "No," Jerald said. "But if it's kill or be killed, I know what to do." "Excuse me," came Tavmatey's voice from the Cup, much fainter now than at The Caxopy Group. "Excuse me, Daptin?" "Hold on--yes?" Daptin said, holding the Cup near his ear. "Now that we're away from Elaine and Cursive I can tell you a few things," Tavmatey said. "First of all, as they said, the mission is time-sensitive. But I didn't tell them everything. If I don't get out of here soon, I don't know if I'll last. So please, for goodness sakes, stop bickering and save my sorry ass!" "Jerald?" Daptin said. Jerald paused, and then relaxed. "Okay," Jerald said. "I'll try to handle the unfairness internally. I do want a coin, though, and I hope you two will back me up when we get back." "You only have to touch it," Fake said. "You don't get to keep it." "Oh," Jerald said. "Okay--I think I see the record store," Daptin said. "Now let's walk over there calmly. Chances are, if we act normal, any security folks who see us'll be confused enough that we can get over the bridge before they react. Okay?" "Well I thought I was the leader here, but okay," Fake said. "Sorry--it's just that you heard what Tavmatey said--we're in a hurry," Daptin said. "No harm done. Let's go. Cinder block--follow close behind us," Fake said. Daptin opened the door and the three of them stepped out into the mall. They walked briskly, one after the other. "Break it up!" Daptin said. "Don't walk right behind me--it looks suspicious." "Like your vest isn't the most suspicious thing ever!" Jerald said. "I'm keeping the flames as low as I can," Daptin said through clenched teeth. "The cinder block's not helping either," Jerald said. Fake didn't respond. Then Fake and Jerald came up beside Daptin as they headed for an escalator. Though the mall was crowded, few people noticed the three with their guns and grenades and such. "Daptin," Tavmatey's tiny voice came. "Daptin, we can talk freely now. How've you been?" "Huh?" Daptin said, holding the Cup up to his ear, looking around to make sure this wasn't attracting attention. "You can stop pretending you don't know me," Tavmatey said. "I don't know you. I mean, I just met you today," Daptin said as they started walking up the escalator. "Daptin, are you afraid they're still monitoring you somehow?" Tavmatey asked. "No!" Daptin said. "I just don't know what you're talking about. Did I know you in school or something?" "Daptin! We were going out--don't you remember?" Tavmatey said. "Hold on," Daptin said. They got to the top of the escalator and spotted a few mall security guards nearby, looking in their direction. Though the guards glanced at the three, they didn't react. "Daptin--I'm serious," Tavmatey said. "Remember, when you transferred to Shirt University as a Junior? That's when we met." "Listen--I never went to Shirt University. I went to Thatterine College all four years--Fake will attest to that," Daptin said. "Huh?" Fake said, as they approached the record store, 'Bithopa Rocken'. "Nothing," Daptin replied. "This is it--Bithopa Rocken." "Let's just hope we can find the bridge," Jerald said. "Shut up!" Fake yelled. "Keep it down! Keep it down," Daptin said. They entered the store and looked around. "Where's the balcony?" Jerald said loudly. "Will you keep it down?" Daptin said. "There is no balcony here," Fake said. "I'm gonna ask the cashier what's going on." "Don't--" Daptin said, but Fake was already cutting into the line of customers at the register. "Excuse me!" Fake yelled. "Excuse me!" The cashier, who had been talking with a customer, looked over. "Where is the balcony?" Fake yelled, over the loud music. The cashier, a scrawny little guy, eyed Fake's gun and said "We have one at the other store downstairs. Why do you ask?" Fake didn't answer, but motioned for the other two to follow her out of the store. Once out, she noticed a few guards in the distance pointing toward the three, apparently concerned at the floating cinder block. "Shit! We have to go to the Bithopa Rocken downstairs, wherever the hell it might be," Fake said, jogging back to the escalator. "Wait!" Daptin said. "Not so fast--it looks suspicious!" The three got to the escalator and bounded down it, Daptin matching the pace of the other two. The cinder block zoomed along behind them. "Daptin!" Tavmatey yelled from the Cup. "Not now, Tavmatey. We have some trouble!" said Daptin. "I think I see a map over there," Fake said as she began jogging toward one of the mall's several atriums. "Goddammit slow down!" Daptin yelled, following Fake and Jerald. "Here it is. It's here," Fake said, finding a large map of the mall. "So where's our store?" Daptin asked, looking around for guards. "Hmmm--let's see," Fake said, examining the map. "Women's apparel. Jewelry. Sporting goods. Children's--" Jerald said. "Shut up man!" Daptin said. "Just find the damn store, how hard can it--" "--here it is--Haxelbong's wing on the right--over this way!" Fake said, pointing. "Okay, but slow down!" Daptin said. They walked briskly toward Haxelbong's department store, Daptin looking around nervously the whole way. They passed a little ferris wheel, then spotted the second Bithopa Rocken. "Come on!" Fake exclaimed, breaking into a run. "Shit!" Daptin exclaimed. They entered the store, spotted the balcony, strode up the stairs, and stopped to get their bearings. "Okay," Daptin said, "behind a record rack, right?" "Yeah," Fake said. "Look! Down there!" Jerald said loudly. Down in the store, they saw two security guards talking with a cashier, who then pointed toward the three mortals. "They have guns," the cashier, a heavy-set woman, said. The guards looked up and saw the three. "I don't get it," one of the guards said. "Come on--they're confused. We should be able to cross the bridge before they come up," Fake said, looking behind a record rack. "Here it is!" Jerald yelled, as he slid in between a rack and the back wall. "Okay that must be it," Daptin said, as he and Fake followed Jerald. The security guards were just getting up the stairs. "Okay what's the problem?" one of the guards said lethargically. "Hey you jerks!" Jerald yelled at the guards. "Ha ha! Forget it!" With this, Jerald pointed his submachine upward and began firing, spraying bullets back and forth into the ceiling. "Don't mess with us--it's not worth it!" Jerald yelled. "You fucking little dork!" Daptin yelled, shoving Jerald hard. Jerald and Daptin fell down, followed by Fake. Jerald had stopped firing, but bits of the ceiling could still be heard raining down on the record store. "You're dead, man. That's it," Daptin said as he spied an opening in the floor underneath the record rack. "Come on--into the hole. They shouldn't be able to follow us if this is a bridge," Fake said. "I'm in charge now!" Jerald said. "We have to seal the bridge behind us so they don't follow." Daptin slapped Jerald hard on the back of his head. "Shut up!" Daptin said in a loud whisper. "They won't be able to bring themselves to look back here unless they're mortals--which I highly doubt." "But I just shot--" Jerald said. Daptin put his hand over Jerald's mouth, squeezing hard. "Shut the fuck up! Don't you understand anything? They can't look behind here if it's a bridge--they just fucking can't," Daptin whispered harshly at Jerald. Fake, who had scooted past the sparring two, lowered herself into the square hole in the floor. Her cinder block floated carefully beside her and then descended after her into the space below. "Hand me the Cup of Coffee, Daptin, and then get the hell down here!" Fake said. Daptin handed her the Cup of Coffee and let go of Jerald. "I'll deal with you once we're in Boltpike," Daptin said, as he began to lower himself down into the hole. "Come on," Fake said from below. Daptin arrived at what seemed to be a space above the ceiling of the store below. He had to crouch down as he looked around into the darkness. The frost flame from Daptin's vest faintly lit the area. "Is he coming?" Fake asked from nearby. "No--he's getting up--" Daptin said. "Just grab him and pull him down," Fake said, losing patience. Daptin's hand shot up and grabbed Jerald's ankle. "Hey!" Jerald yelled. Daptin pulled Jerald down into the crawlspace with a loud thud. After he landed, Daptin grabbed Jerald's collar and pulled him up so the two were face to face. "Listen you turd," Daptin said, slapping Jerald across the face. "I'll freeze your ass if you don't shape up!" With this, Daptin willed his frost flame to flare up, sending a chilly blast of cold air through the crawlspace. "Understand?" Daptin demanded. Jerald closed his eyes and coughed hoarsely. "Understand?" Daptin asked again, shaking his fellow mortal. "Yes," Jerald said, coughing. "I understand. Now quit it." Daptin let Jerald go and diminished the intensity of his frost flame. From above, they heard someone say "Well they got away. No use looking for them around here." "See Hatch?" Daptin said. "In their minds, we just got away--even though it makes no sense. Their minds refuse to think about or grasp the back of this record rack in any way. That's the way it works. See, idiot?" "I found the direction," Fake said. "Off this way." "Get up," Daptin said to Jerald, who complied. The two then followed Fake through an air vent into a corridor that was larger than the crawlspace. Daptin's frost flame provided a flickery illumination as the three continued down the hallway that was lined with wooden planks. "I don't think we're in Plutomiana anymore," Fake said distantly. "Are you guys finally in Boltpike?" Tavmatey asked, her voice definitely louder than it had been in the mall. "I guess we're almost there," Daptin said. "I'm through with this mission," Jerald said. "I thought you'd be more professional. I can't work with people like you." Daptin turned to face Jerald. "Do you understand that we can't afford to have an incident on Earth?" Daptin said. "Didn't Elaine make that very, very clear?" "So?" Jerald asked, taking off his cowboy hat. "So--why the hell did you fire your gun back there? I can't fucking believe you did that! Are you totally out of your tiny mind?" Daptin said. "Look Gone, they were about to apprehend us--I had to give them some pause," Jerald said as he turned his hat upside down and reached his hand into it. "There was no reason to do it. You knew it was a bridge, and you knew they wouldn't follow," Daptin said. "We weren't into the bridge at that point," Jerald said, his arm elbow-deep into the hat, defying normal physics. "Behind the rack was the start of the bridge," Daptin said, eyeing the hat. "And you better not try anything with that magic hat of yours." "I'm just getting some licorice," Jerald said, pulling his arm out of the hat with a little package of licorice sticks. "Snack hat." "Gimme a break," Daptin said. "Just remember--if you pull any more shit--you're dead." Fake stopped in her tracks and spun around. The cinder block came to a clumsy halt and then floated to Fake's side. "Okay--time out," Fake said. "Let's get something straight--I'm the leader here, for better or for worse. And I say you two stop fighting right now. We have a mission, and we're on a tight schedule. Jerald, you were wrong to fire back there, but we're all entitled to one mistake, right?" "I didn't hurt anyone," Jerald said, biting into a piece of licorice. "That's beside the point," Fake said. "Just promise me that you'll see this mission through to the end, Jerald." Jerald paused, chewing his licorice. "Okay," he finally said. "But tell Daptin to stop bossing me around." "Look," Daptin said. "We'll be in Boltpike soon, and we won't be walking on eggshells like we were back on Earth. There's a difference, Jerald. A big difference." "I know," Jerald said. "Want some licorice?" "Not from your gross hat," Daptin said. "No thanks," Fake said. "Now come on." "Everything's cool," Daptin said. "Check those swizzle sticks," Fake said under her breath to Daptin, "I think you might have broken one by accident." Daptin glanced at Jerald and snickered softly, but Jerald didn't seem to notice. They continued down the hallway, which soon came to an abrupt halt. A ladder attached to the wall led upward. "I'll go," Daptin said. "Are we there yet?" Tavmatey asked, her voice louder than the last time she spoke. "Not quite," Fake said. "But this might be it." Daptin climbed up the ladder and found the underside of a metal manhole, very heavy. "I got it--a manhole," Daptin said, pushing on it. "Open it," Fake said. "Uhn. Jammed pretty good," Daptin said. "Push harder," Jerald said. "Super!" Daptin yelled. "Hoop!" With this, Daptin pushed the manhole open with a cacophony of crashes. The ladder got bent in the process, but it was still usable. "What the hell..." Fake said. Daptin climbed out of the hole to find himself in what appeared to be an abandoned store, with the wreckage of a huge couch nearby, which had apparently been covering the manhole. Out a large window, he saw a bleak streetlight-lit street. "Come on up, folks. The weather's fine," Daptin said. The other two climbed up the ladder, followed by Fake's cinder block. "My goodness," Fake said, looking at the ruined couch. "How did you do that? That couch looks like it weighed a ton." "It probably did," Daptin said. "Do you have some power I don't know about?" Fake asked. "I didn't know you were that strong." "I'm not," Daptin said. "But--" Fake began. "--just forget it for now, alright? It's too involved to explain." "Okay," Fake said, looking out the window. "This is Boltpike, alright. Hear that Tavmatey? We're here." "Goody," Tavmatey said. "It's always dark here, right?" Daptin asked. "More or less," Fake said. "Sort of reminds me of home," Daptin said. "Daptin," Tavmatey said from within the Cup, "I think we should talk." "Here," Fake said, handing Daptin the Cup. "Well?" Daptin asked. "Well. How about telling the truth?" Tavmatey said. "The truth is, I never met anyone named Tavmatey, and I never went to Shirt University. Ask Fake." "What?" Fake asked. "Tell Tavmatey where I went to college all four years," Daptin said. "Um, you went to Thatterine as far as I know. I mean, I knew you there. I'm pretty sure you never went to Shirt," Fake said. "I'm not crazy," Tavmatey said. "I know you. I've--y'know--been with you, in that way. I know you." "This isn't true," Daptin said, shaking his head. "I'll prove it. Shall I do that? How about your birthmark? You have a birthmark on your scrotum--in the shape of a pine tree. How would I know this?" Tavmatey said. "Come on! That's getting personal," Daptin said. "You really have a birthmark like that?" Fake asked. "If you have to know, yes. Nothing I can help. I mean, I was born with it. It's not a tattoo or anything." "So how does Tavmatey know?" Fake asked. "Who cares?" Jerald said from across the room. "Well?" Fake asked. "I don't know. Maybe someone who knew me told her." "Who would tell me that?" Tavmatey said. "And I can tell you more things. Your personal number, your parents' address in Arctica, both your grandmothers' maiden names, your favorite foods, your deepest secrets." "Okay. Okay, enough. Let's be reasonable here. You're probably from an Earth alternate to ours. Although I've never encountered two Earths with duplicate people living on them, I suppose it's possible. Whatever, I'm not the Daptin you knew." "Fair enough," Tavmatey said. "Earths?" Fake asked. Daptin shook his head and swatted his hand at Fake and said "Forget it. Later. Later." Fake raised her eyebrows. "And uh, Tavmatey," Daptin said, "while we're on the subject of secrets, just how did you go from being a Shirt coed to getting trapped inside a 40,000-year-old cup of coffee?" "It's a long story." "What year do you think it is?" Daptin asked. "1692, as far as I know." "It's 1687 to us," Daptin said, staring at the Cup. "I was a Junior about three years ago, in 1684. Are you saying you met me eight years ago, in your experience?" "Um--yeah, that's about right," Tavmatey said. "It is 1687," Fake said. "There's no denying that." "Is she from the future?" Jerald asked. "I guess she is," Daptin responded. "An alternate future, if anything." "Anyway," Tavmatey said, "I'm sorry. I guess you're not my Daptin. But you're similar enough to have the same pine tree birthmark." "It doesn't look all that much like a pine tree." "Oh yes it does. I've seen it close up. Closer than you could ever have seen it." "Okay, fine. Very cute. That's great." "It's true." "Great." "So are you gonna get me outta here soon? I think I like you a lot better now, knowing that you're not the same Daptin I knew." "Why? What did he do wrong?" "Plenty. But you're not him." "Well, you can tell me all about it when we finally meet." Jerald walked over to Daptin and talked into the Cup. "Watch out Miss Tavmatey--Daptin's girlfriend is a goddess named Spanking New Sarah. She's a very--" "--cut the shit," Daptin said. "Come on, let's get on with it." Daptin tried to open the door, but found it locked. "Damn!" Daptin said. "May I?" Jerald said, pointing his gun toward the large window. "Go ahead," Daptin said with a sigh. "Ha ha!" Jerald said as he shot the window with a burst of bullets, shattering it immediately. "Okay Jerald--that's enough. Stop!" Daptin yelled. Jerald stopped firing, but then saw that some glass in a corner of the windowframe was still intact, so he shot at it. "Stop it! That's not a toy," Daptin said. "You sound like my uncle," Jerald said, stepping through the windowframe. Daptin and Fake followed, finding themselves on a deserted street, with a lot of lights visible in the distance over to the right. "Tell me about this Spanking New Sarah," Tavmatey said. "For godsake, not now," Daptin said. "Which way?" Fake asked. "Well," Daptin said. "We have to see which direction Tav here is louder in. Tell you what--let's test it at one end of this block, and then the other. Maybe we'll be able to hear a difference." "Um--actually, Elaine told me that I was somewhere in the downtown area of Boltpike. So why don't you head that way? Maybe you see the lights?" Tavmatey said. "Um--okay," Daptin said. "We can see downtown from here, but it's a few miles off. How did you know?" "Elaine briefed me on your route. She knew where this bridge came out." "I wish she'd have told us that," Fake said. "Just keep moving," Tavmatey said. "Remember, I don't know how much longer I've got." "Whatever that means," Daptin said. "What?" Tavmatey asked. "Nothing," Daptin responded. "So let's go!" Fake said. The three began walking toward downtown Boltpike. About a minute later, however, everything went wrong. It felt like the street dropped out from under them, and what seemed to be a bright sun was darting about relentlessly in the sky above them. A sound like a thousand touch tone dialings came to their ears. They all lost their balance and fell to the sidewalk under them. "What's happening?" Jerald yelled. "I don't know!" Fake yelled back. "Super! Super!" Daptin yelled, attempting unsuccessfully to stand up. "What went wrong?" Fake asked. "I don't think this--" Daptin began, but then everything turned red. All they could see was red. They smelled a citrusy odor and heard distant windchimes. "Don't stop," Tavmatey said, much louder now. "Don't stop now." Before any of them could respond, they lost consciousness. -SR- ============================== CUPLINE 1: GOODBYE POPCORN CHAPTER 5 SR-005 ============================== -------------------------- CHAPTER 12 sr12 01.3.3--Cup's Club -------------------------- ============================== Daptin awoke to find himself on a hill covered with freshly cut grass. He heard the sound of a distant lawnmower, but couldn't see where it came from. A light breeze blew, and a very normal sun shone down from a cloudless sky. Nearby, he could see a wooded area. The other two began to stir. "Well, we managed to fuck our mission up royally," Daptin said, not fully awake yet. "Was I dreaming?" Fake asked, rising. "I'm scared," Jerald said. "Oh, you're back," Tavmatey said from the Cup, sounding almost as if she were right next to them. "Tav--Tavmatey--how long were we out?" Daptin asked. "Not long. Maybe five minutes." "What happened?" Fake asked. "Beats me," Daptin said. "Any ideas, Tav?" Tavmatey didn't respond. "I guess not," Daptin said. "No I guess..." Tavmatey said, "I guess I might as well tell you that Elaine had to mislead you a little. The actual plan was different than what she told you. Sorry I didn't--" "--yes!" a booming voice was heard to say nearby. "What the..." Daptin said, looking around. "Uh-oh," Fake said, looking down the hill. "After eighty years it has come to pass," one of the individuals coming up the hill said. "You led us into a trap!" Daptin yelled. "No!" Tavmatey said. "No! There shouldn't be anyone else there! It's impossible!" Daptin looked down at the group approaching him and his fellows. He didn't recognize any of the approachers. "Stop!" said the man leading the group. He held a huge saw in his right hand, and a smaller saw in his left hand. "Look!" said a tall, thin, cloaked figure with no discernible face. "Can it be? Truly?" "The Cup! The Cup of Coffee!" said a young woman in a red-and-black checkered outfit. "Let's do 'em before they get smart and run," said a woman in a black T-shirt. A weird furry monster stared at the Cup and whooped with pleasure. "Can it be over?" asked a large, stocky, oddly-built fellow with a colorful uniform. A girl in a blue and brown outfit flew above the others, holding a massive, bizarre rifle. "Hello," the guy with the saws said. "We are... here seeking that Cup of Coffee. May we, uh, may we just have it?" Jerald raised his submachinegun. "Back off," Jerald said loudly. "Cool it," Daptin said, with his hand raised. Then he turned toward Fake and said "Blow up a balloon." Fake nodded, took out a green balloon, and started stretching it. Her cinder block, which had been motionless, jumped up and floated in front of her in a protective stance. "What say thee?" the sawman asked. "There's no need to fight. We can settle this," Daptin said. "Who are you guys, anyway?" "I would ask the same of you," the sawman said. "I asked first," Daptin said. "Fine," the sawman said. "Some call us Cup's Club, but that is unimportant. What matters is that we've been looking for that Cup of Coffee you have there for almost eighty years. Can you grasp such an effort? We want this to be over." "Okay," Daptin said. "Here's the deal. I can see you're a fighting force, but so are we. Let me clue you in--we're mortals from Agoopish. I don't think you want to risk fighting us." "Never heard of Agoopish," the sawman said. "But the force is yet to be found that Coabler the Sawman cannot soundly defeat. What say thee then?" "Okay, okay," Daptin said. "Tavmatey, what do you know about all this?" "Nothing!" she responded. Fake turned around and began blowing up the slay balloon. "Let's talk this over," Daptin said. "If we find you to be a clearly superior force, as you claim to be, then we'll hand the Cup over without a fight." "We are superior," Coabler the Sawman said. "And we will take the Cup. We have nothing to prove to you." "If you're so sure, why don't you attack us right now?" Jerald blurted out. Coabler shrugged. "I want to try a civilized solution before bashing your foolish heads in." "That is... certainly admirable," Daptin said, looking over at Fake. Fake finished inflating the slay balloon. She then pulled a pin from her sleeve and held it inches away from the balloon. "What's that, then?" the flying girl asked, pointing her gun at Fake. The sight of the flying girl reminded him of The Tracy Taciturn, but he clenched his fists and supressed the thought. "Hit it," Daptin said. She popped it and it worked. All the three could see was a gray haze all about them, and all they could hear was a clamorous and shrieking thunder. "I guess we killed them!" Daptin Gone yelled, his voice nearly drowned by the din. "We had to," said Jerald Hapal Hatch. "I didn't know it would be this... serious," Fake Cerquaine said. "What?" Daptin asked. "The balloon," Fake said. "Oh." The three could now see the dark gray destruction swirling about all around, and it was like they were in a glass sphere--the slay balloon's safe area. The clamor continued with no sign of diminishing. "Okay wait," Tavmatey Numblem said from within the Cup of Coffee. "Okay what's the matter." "Huh?" Daptin said. "Did you say something, Tavmatey?" "I said, what's the matter!" "We had to use a slay balloon," Daptin said. "A gang of fighters came upon us, with saws and guns and stuff." "That's not possible. You're not still in Boltpike, are you?" "I don't know. Why shouldn't we be?" Daptin asked. "Elaine deceived you. El Flactor Floor was in on it. The Cup of Coffee--they know more about it than they told you. The situation-to-reality aspect ratio is so tight in Avert that you can't really transport the Cup more than a few hundred feet." "What the hell are you talking about?" Daptin asked. "I'm telling you everything I know--you might be dead soon and all. But no--like I said, the reason for the journey, the mission, was to get you here. They didn't want the cupslip in their own city, so they had you do it in Boltpike. The thing with the loudness of my voice--all untrue." "So hold on--are you really in the Cup or what?" "Yes! I mean, I'm here in this place. It's like I have a normal life, but it's not my own. I live here and stuff. And I have my friends, but it's just a fancy jail cell, as far as I'm concerned." "But Tavmatey--what the hell is your involvement in the Cup?" Daptin asked. "I--there's a nearby world--I guess--where me and you were like--I dunno." "Tavmatey--we can talk about all this later. Just tell me where we are right now. Okay? Where are we?" "I'm unsure. My major cupslip was from Earth, with a much looser ratio. Coming from an Avert City like Boltpike, I don't know. It changes both reality and situation, though. That's how I got into this current life. Situation just wrapped around me in this way, and here I am." "But what sort of place is this?" Daptin asked. "I don't know--why don't you look around and see?" Tavmatey responded. "I can't! The balloon's destruction is still exploding, if you can't hear it. It was a wilderness area, but with tended grass. I heard a lawnmower, so there must be people nearby--who I guess we just killed, along with that gang. Sorry folks..." "Now Daptin, this gang--I heard them say something about the Cup?" Tavmatey said. "They said they were looking for the Cup and had finally found it." All of a sudden the clamor died down, and there was a sound not dissimilar to that of a toilet flushing. The gray cloud began to lighten. "I guess that's the extent of it," Fake said, looking down at the unimpressive popped balloon on the ground. "Heads up!" Jerald said, pointing his submachinegun toward a dark shape looming in the gray cloud. "What the--" Daptin began. The shape disappeared, but a moment later, a person appeared a few feet away from Daptin, Fake, and Jerald. It was the girl with the big weird rifle. She wore a blue and brown military uniform, and sported wavy light brown lovely hair. She appeared barely into her twenties. "Now I can hurt you, but you can't hurt me. I'm willing to listen to what you might have to say, so save your ammo. This me, Pattern Integrity," the girl said. Jerald raised his gun and backed away. "I'm not fooling around!" Pattern said, pointing her rifle at Jerald. Jerald continued to back up, passing outside the perimeter of the safe area. A few seconds later, he stumbled back in, coughing, and dropped to his knees. "Pretty nasty out there, huh?" Pattern asked. "Look, who the hell are you?" Fake asked. Pattern swung her rifle around and pointed it at Fake. Fake held up her hands and smiled a nervous smile. Her cinder block hovered warily above her shoulder. "If it means anything, we can't be killed either," Fake said. "Maybe not, but I could probably injure you," Pattern said, then she turned her attention to the Cup of Coffee. Daptin faced her. "You like it?" Daptin said, holding up the Cup and willing his frost flame to burn with great intensity. "Yes I like it," Pattern said. "I haven't seen it for a long time." Jerald, still choking, raised his gun and fired a short burst at Pattern Integrity. It hit her in the chest, and she vanished for a moment, then reappeared, unharmed. She then pointed her rifle at Jerald and shot a small yellow energy burst at him. Jerald collapsed immediately. "Now talk about what you did and who you are," Pattern Integrity said. "Um--well," Daptin said, "we're mortal agents from Agoopish on a special mission. Apparently, we were deceived by our superiors, and we wound up in this place, wherever it is. Our mission was--is--to rescue a woman named Tavmatey Numblem, who we can hear from within the Cup." "We were charged to use the Cup and then safely return it," Fake said. "Your little gang seemed intent upon using force against us, so we decided to use force against you instead. But I guess you lived, unfortunately." "Well," Pattern said, "I have personal reasons for wanting to rediscover the Cup. I understand your position, but I will have it. Hand it over now, boy." Pattern Integrity lowered her gun and approached Daptin, her hand outstretched for the Cup. "Super!" Daptin yelled, as he brought his right hand up over his left shoulder, then savagely hit Pattern on the side of her head with the back of his hand. Such was the ferocity of the blow that Pattern's head was half ripped from her neck. For a moment, she was a bloody mess, but she quickly vanished and reappeared in the air above Daptin, with her rifle's barrel pointed at Daptin's forehead, lightly touching it. "That was an interesting sensation," the floating girl said. "I see you're quite a strong little brat. Now put down the Cup or I'll blow your a head off a lot cleaner than you did mine." Just then another form approached the safe area. Daptin turned his eyes to the right, without moving his imperiled head, to see a bleary-eyed and raggedly dressed Coabler the Sawman enter the safe area. "Ho, Integrity," he said. "Always you to be spared the indignities of disaster. Easy now girl, these fellows are holders of the Cup, do not threaten them." Pattern backed off and floated to the ground. "Look, we don't want any trouble," Fake said, looking down at Jerald. "Is he dead?" "I guess so," Pattern said matter-of-factly. Daptin carefully pulled his submachinegun's strap over his head and dropped the gun to the ground. He then sat down Indian style, holding the Cup of Coffee on his left knee. "I need a moment to commune with the Cup before you wrest it from me," Daptin said, reaching into one of the pockets of his vest. "Just take it from him!" Coabler said to Pattern. "I tried--he knocked my head off." Daptin grabbed a big handful of goodbye popcorn out of his pocket and tossed it into his mouth. "Don't commit suicide, you jerk," Pattern said. Daptin crunched the popcorn for a few moments, and then disappeared along with the Cup of Coffee. "Where'd he go, girl!" Pattern yelled at Fake. "I don't--he--he's gone," Fake said. Coabler ambled over to Fake and grabbed her by her upper arms, shaking her. "Now we're all a little dazed from that bomb you set off, but you tell me now where the boy went with the Cup or I'll cut you up into a googol little pieces!" "He ate some--" Pattern raised her gun. "Truth blast," Pattern said. Coabler nodded and let go of Fake, who Pattern then shot with a thin blue beam. Fake stumbled around in confusion, finally lying down on her side in the grass, drooling. Coabler knelt down beside her. "Now that's better, hey, lass. Now little girl, where is your green-haired compatriot, hey? Tell me now." "He ate some goodbye popcorn so he doesn't exist right now," Fake gurgled. "Clarify, check," Coabler said. "It's popcorn which makes you disappear for awhile." "How long?" "Depends on how much you eat. I didn't see how much he had." "It appeared to be a handful." "A few hours--definitely less than a day." "Where will he reappear?" Coabler asked. "In this vicinity." "Will the Cup also reappear with him?" "Yes, as far as I know." "What's your name girl?" "Fake Cerquaine." "Okay. Now rest girl. You'll be okay, lass." Coabler got up and faced Pattern. Jerald moaned and rolled over. "System drain bolt," Pattern said, gesturing toward Jerald. "That's fine. Now see about the others--I'm most worried about Bith and Tickle. Be off!" Pattern Integrity flew off into the now-dissipating cloud. "Ye'll both be down for a time," Coabler said. "Curse that Pattern for not grabbing the Cup. But still, this is all wrong. I can't believe it's the real Cup of Coffee that your friend had." Fake's cinder block was floating around its master, nudging her innocently. "What have we here? A charmed brick?" Coabler said. "Yes," Fake said, still under the effects of the truth blast. "A trained cinder block." "A funny toy," Coabler said. "That it is," said the gaunt Kesh the Vector as he approached. "Ah Kesh, I knew you'd be no worse for wear," Coabler the Sawman said. "What was the cause of the explosion?" Kesh the Vector asked. "Fake?" Coabler said. "I popped a slay balloon," Fake said. "There you go, friend Kesh--we were victims of a balloon." "Most strange," Kesh said. "I guess you have the situation in hand?" "Two stunned youths is all," Coabler said, clinking his saws together. "And the Cup? Was it a false?" "Unknown. Though the nature of this world points to a cupslip entry, I need physical contact to know for sure." "So where is it?" Kesh asked. "Does Pattern have it? I assume she was here." "She was here, but she doesn't have it. The green-top youth who bore it used a novel technique to temporarily set his existence to false. He will be back, though." "Any sign of the others?" Kesh asked. "Not yet," Coabler said. "Classic and Demolish should be fine, but as the blast tumbled me several miles from here, I assume they're likewise trying to get back now. Bith may or may not have survived--it depends on his current degree of silliness. As far as Tickle goes, your guess is as good as mine." "When the fallout settles, we shall see," Kesh said, striding toward Fake's supine form, then kneeling. Pattern Integrity appeared. "Coabler, I located Bith. He's a good ways away, covered with soot, and babbling incoherently," Pattern said. "Good," Coabler said. "That leaves Tickle the only one to be worried about." "Are you sure Classic could've wielded her logic in time to save herself?" asked Pattern. "She had a standing theorem that if she's hurt or killed, she won't be hurt or killed. At least, that was my impression," said Coabler. "Tell me everything you know of the Cup of Coffee, little one," Kesh said to Fake. Fake stared into the nothingness of Kesh's face with an unconcerned expression. "We were hired by Elaine Caxopy to rescue Tavmatey. We could hear her inside the Cup. They said her voice was louder in some places and softer in others. They said they plotted it out, and that they thought she was in a space analogous to Boltpike, and if we found the spot, we could rescue her. But apparently they lied. We were only in Boltpike for a few minutes before we wound up here. They told us the Cup was 40,000 years old, that we should guard it with our life." "She's under a truth blast, Kesh, so you can believe her words," Pattern said. "Aye," said Coabler. "Now try and locate Tickle, good Pattern Integrity." "No sooner said than done," Pattern said with a vanish. "I don't care about the Cup. I wanna go home," Fake said without emotion. "How about the fat one?" Kesh said, gesturing toward the unconscious Jerald Hapal Hatch. "Pattern shot him with a system drain bolt. It'll take him awhile to recover," said Coabler. "Bad choice, hers. I would have liked to question him, also," Kesh said, standing. "We'll get our answers," Coabler said, holstering his saws. The cloud of fallout was thinning to the point that the aftermath of the destructive wave began to come into view. Wisps of dust drifted over the four individuals as the safe area ended. A dank gray wasteland stretched as far as the eye could see. Coabler surveyed the scene, and saw Classic of Logic in the distance. He hailed her and she waved back. "Tis Classic yonder," Coabler said. "Fetch her." Kesh didn't respond, but raised a bony gloved finger and extended a vector, a thin black line, to touch Classic. Then without moving, Kesh took hold of Classic and drew her to him. She moved, hovering a few feet off the ground with the vector extending through her abdomen. In a few moments, she was beside Coabler, and Kesh withdrew his vector. "I could just as easily have walked!" Classic said, holding her stomach. "You know that makes me queasy." "Complain not. You're here now, no?" said Coabler. "Ugh!" said Classic with a shiver. "I hate those vectors!" "Your decree is noted, Classic," Kesh said. "Any sign of Demolish or Tickle?" Coabler asked. "Nope," Classic of Logic said. "Well I'm off to find Tickle," said Coabler. "Keep an eye on these two, and if the boy reappears, you know what to do, Kesh." Kesh nodded, and Coabler jogged off into the desolate once-countryside. "So are we finally through with this idiotic quest?" Classic asked Kesh. "Who knows," Kesh said distantly. -SR- ============================== CUPLINE 1: GOODBYE POPCORN CHAPTER 6 SR-006 ============================== -------------------------- CHAPTER 14 sr14 01.4--Obfuser -------------------------- ============================== "Daptin, of course this is unprecedented," said a voice which sounded like trees creaking in a thunderstorm. "I was..." Daptin said, shaking his head to clear it. "I was okay?" Looking around, Daptin saw he was standing at the edge of a parking lot overgrown with weeds. It was a chilly, overcast day. Nearby, Daptin saw the weird dark humanoid void which was the Ultra Occult Entity, Obfuser. "Do you know where you are?" Obfuser asked, approaching. Daptin had never seen Obfuser in this form, but he recognized the voice somehow. In his previous encounters, Obfuser took the form of normal-looking person. But now, he seemed to be a great walking vacuum with jack-o-lantern facial features. "Um, I think I was on some world that... I don't know." "Do you know what it is that you carry?" Obfuser said, looking at the Cup of Coffee. "This? The Cup of Coffee?" Daptin said, holding up the Cup. "Yeah. It's some sort of artifact." "Yeah," Obfuser said with what seemed a shudder. "I was surprised to find you here, but even more surprised to find the Cup of Coffee." "Isn't this the same world I was on?" "Daptin, you've been playing with forces far beyond your scope. Your goodbye popcorn works fine in mundane spaces, but disappearing from the cupslipped world you were in, there was no way to return. Anywhere." "I didn't return?" "No. You were simply erased from all existence. And you would have remained so, else for the Cup you hold." "Huh. At least this damn Cup has done something good. I wonder if I can still hear Tavmatey?" Daptin said. "I wouldn't think so, friend," Obfuser responded. "See, the universe is ended. It's been done with for a long time." "So how long was I gone?" "Hard to say. From the time you left to the end was a few billion years. Afterward time hasn't meant so much. But quite a while." "So that's it? I'm screwed?" "Not really. You have me, don't you? I can put you back over there where you came from. Just realize that you have been but an enormously high-level reference for a great amount of time. That I found you is a miracle." "If the world's ended, the universe, whatever, then where are we?" "This is a high portion of existence, discreet from the universe. You were essentially dumped here as reality purged it's high sectors. That is, the universe over, a lot of unfinished business could be taken care of, you being a very small piece of business." "Now, uh, Obfuser. Have you like waited like, billion of years since I last saw you?" "Sort of, Daptin. But it's not as bad as it seems. You finally get to see me in a more appropriate form. Had I manifested thus in Spoin Hall, I would have demolished not just your planet, but most of your galaxy as well. Now, in this area, I'm free to be who I am. You can even touch me. Here, try it," Obfuser said, holding out his shadowy black hand. Daptin reached out carefully and touched Obfuser's hand. "I don't understand," Daptin said. "I was wondering how it would feel for a human to touch me in my true form. You seem lost for words." "It's just too much. Like, too much for my senses to even begin to decode." "That makes sense. And to me, too, the sensation of touching a human hand in direct manifestation is intriguing. You know, no human could possibly be brought to a place like this. I certainly couldn't do it. So you being here is a marvelous find." "Almost sounds like you wanna keep me here. I mean, not send me back, if there's no way to get anyone back here." "Oh, worry not Daptin! I can reference this area as many times as I want, refinding you each time. Chronologically speaking, this is the first time. Or at least, the second or third. I don't know how to describe it in your language. It's very hard for me to speak in your language, but a challenge, since there are so many things to say and so few words to use. But anyway." "So like, where can I return to?" "Oh, anywhere Daptin. From the reference, you were in a bad situation when you left, so perhaps you don't want to return there?" "Well, I'm not even sure where there was. I mean, like, okay--can you just tell me all about this damn Cup? I mean, there's like such mystery about it. Maybe you could lift the curtain?" Obfuser turned away and looked skyward. "Daptin, even I, an Ultra Occult Entity, have my limits. The Cup is too deeply referenced. I can only tell you a few things. Like you've discovered, displacing t