3.Ø7
Spacetime: 97217.8.331
A river raged at the base of basalt cliffs. The torrent thundered through parched hinterlands before emptying into a cold northern sea. Salmon thrashed upstream heeding the age-old call of the wild.
Suddenly, a circle of fire erupted out of thin air. The firework expanded until it grew large enough to disgorge five interdimensional travelers. The travelers screamed, “Aaaaggghhhh!!!!” as they fell through the portal and plunged into the river.
Fortunately, four of the five were properly attired for bathing. Their unitards sliced through the torrent as sleekly as the salmon that slippered upstream. Unfortunately, the fifth traveler was outfitted in the type of clunky attire that is the bane of unwary bathers. It distressed Sian to see Muddle sink like a stone, but when she saw Gellie and Ubie dive after him her worries abated. Sian hooked an arm around Rudyard and towed him to shore.
Gellie and Ubie streaked after Muddle like jet-powered seals. Just as his toes touched the riverbottom Ubie and Gellie each snagged a wrist and hauled Muddle back to the surface. As they whisked him upward the nymphs noticed that the Sorcerer Supreme was no longer wearing golden wristbands. How curious...
When they broke the surface Gellie and Ubie wasted no time resuscitating Muddle. The lifeguards punched and pounded the Sorcerer Supreme until Muddle howled that being rescued should not be more lethal than drowning. Satisfied that Muddle's lungs were back online, the nymphs towed the curmudgeon to shore.
Gellie and Ubie were so quick in their work that they managed to beach their catch before Sian finished hauling Rudyard out of the river. The PI was in a sorry state. Rudyard had not been designed for aquatic maneuvers. Consequently, the moment he hit the water the PI had abandoned all hope of survival. In truth, Rudyard’s components were so buoyant that he could easily have served as a makeshift life raft. Still, the PI insisted that few had cavorted so intimately with La Morte and lived to tell the tale.
Muddle was a mess too. He was wet, cold, and annoyed. On the upside, since Muddle was usually annoyed about something, his comrades viewed his foul mood as evidence of a whirlwind recovery.
After Muddle crawled out of the water, Ubie tossed a ratty clump of hair into his lap. She deadpanned, “I think that belongs to you, Strangelove.”
“Uhh…” Muddle’s nose wrinkled, “...thanks, Ubie.” He inspected the wig and decided to “lose” the horsehair mop as soon as he could do so unmarked. Then for a scary moment, Muddle feared that he had also lost his goatee. A quick spot-check revealed (to Muddle’s lasting relief) that the goatee was still clinging like a barnacle to his upper lip.
Ubie lingered next to Muddle. Eventually, he took notice and asked, “Sooo, Ubie…How’s it going?”
“Pretty good, but...” Ubie drove straight to the point, “...I’d be much better if I could take another look at the One Watch.”
Muddle’s first instinct was to keep the watch tucked inside his robes. He wavered, “Er...sure, Ubie. You can look, but remember…” Muddle clambered to his feet, “...please don’t touch. The watch is far too delicate for any rough treatment.”
Ubie rolled her eyes, “Sure, Max. Whatever you say.”
“Okay, just a sekkent…” Muddle fumbled through his sodden costume. At length he produced the watch and angled it so that Ubie could get a good look.
“Thanks, Max.” Ubie examined the watch and then whistled under her breath, "I'll be darned…" Her eyes met Muddle’s, "...did you see this?"
Before Muddle could answer, Gellie cut in, “Did he see what?" Gellie was famous on five continents for her uncanny ability to detect juicy secrets. She demanded, “What are you talking about, Ubie?”
Ubie checked with Muddle. After a moment’s hesitation, he said, “Sure. I guess it’s time they knew.”
Eagerly, Ubie beckoned to Gellie, Sian, and Rudyard, “Hey, you guys! Check this out.” Being careful not to touch the watch, Ubie drew her colleagues’ attention to its face, “Remember Stanny’s missing obelisk? Well, somehow the One Watch, umm…” She fumbled for the right word, “...the watch seems to have ‘absorbed’ the obelisk.” Ubie pointed at the miniature obelisk.
The FF exchanged doubtful glances.
Next, Ubie drew attention to the lower half of the watch face, “And there, just above the number ‘VI,’ you can see that the watch has also absorbed Stanny’s femur.”
There was a moment of shocked silence, then Sian, Gellie, and Rudyard unleashed a blizzard of questions. Ubie and Muddle did their best to connect sensible answers to the firestorm of questions.
“No, Ubie and Muddle had not been keeping secrets.”
“Yes, they had withheld information—but to keep Stanny, not the FF, in the dark.”
“No, they had no control over the One Watch’s kleptomania.”
“Yes, they felt bad about skiving off with Stanny’s Time Cheaters.”
“No, they couldn’t have managed the situation any differently.”
When the gale of questions finally died down, Sian leaned in for a closer look at the watch, “Hmmm…” She cupped a hand to her chin, “I don’t know what this means. Should we be ecstatic, or terrified?” Sian splayed her hands, “Any thoughts?”
Though it agonized her to do so, Ubie raised a hand, “I, uhh...don’t know what to say about the Time Cheaters, Sian, but…” She flicked her eyes at Muddle and then added gingerly, “...I do believe the One Watch is gaining strength…”
“Gaining strength?” Sian raised her eyebrows, “What makes you say that?”
Ubie sagged, “I don’t want to hurt anyone’s feelings, but..” She patted Muddle’s shoulder, “...Max has started treating the watch like it’s, umm…” Ubie trailed off, “...a person…”
All eyes shifted to Muddle.
“Awww…” The crabby professor groaned, “...I wouldn’t say that…”
“Yes, you have!” Ubie shot back, “And you’ve been cuddling it too!”
Gasps all around.
“No, no,” Muddle squirmed, “You’re misinterpreting…”
“I’ve seen it too!” Gellie blurted, “At first, I thought you were weirdly kissing up to Rudyard, but then I saw you ogling the watch. It really creeped me out.” She shivvered illustratively.
“Oh, that’s nothing!” Eager to join the fun, Rudyard cried, “I’ve heard him call the watch ‘my precious’!”
“No, you haven’t!” Muddle stormed, “Froda called it that you bubble brain, not me!”
“Easy, Max…” Sian signaled for all concerned parties to simmer down, “No one’s accusing you of anything. Okay? We’re just trying to figure out what's going on. That’s all.”
“But there’s more!” Gellie blabbed, “Max isn’t wearing gold wristbands anymore either.”
“Gold wristbands?” Muddle goggled at Gellie, “I don’t have gold wristbands. You know that.” He exposed both arms, “See? No wristbands.”
“I know, Max…” Gellie fired back, “That’s what I said.”
Gellie and Muddle glared at each other while trying to fathom how agreeing could somehow intensify their disagreement.
Before Gellie and Muddle could lob any more non-sequiturs at each other, Sian spoke up, “Hey, let’s change the subject, okay?” She patted a small compartment on her utility belt, “I have a surprise that I’ve been saving for a special moment just like this.” With all eyes on her, Sian unclipped the pouch and drew out a silver flask. She unscrewed the container’s tiny cap and then handed it to Muddle. With a twinkle in her eye, Sian teased, “Have a blast of that, Mudd. It’ll put a spring in your mattress.”
Muddle accepted the flask, “What is it?”
Sian shook her head, “Don’t talk. Just drink.” Then she nudged the jug toward Muddle’s mouth.
Too curious to dawdle any longer, Muddle took a swig. The liquid was rich, smokey and blazingly stimulating. As promised, Muddle literally sprang to his tiptoes. Hoarsely, he croaked, “Wow…!”
Before he could take another slug Sian whisked the flask from Muddle’s hand and offered it to Rudyard.
“Uhh…” Rudyard’s eyes flitted from the flask to Muddle and back again. He quavered, “No thanks, Sian. I never touch the stuff.”
“Trust me,” Sian persisted, “You want to touch this stuff.”
“Sian’s right,” Muddle wheezed, “You’ve gotta try it, Rudd. It’s out of this world.” Still resonating from his electrified tipple, Muddle grew curious, “Hey, Sian? What is it?”
“I thought you guys were supposed to be Star Techies.” Sian scoffed, “I’ve heard bona fide Techies can detect the aroma of Saurian Brandy through the vacuum of space.”
“Saurian Brandy!!” Rudyard and Muddle both lunged for the flask. It already being within arm’s reach, Rudyard snagged the grog before Muddle could get off the dime. Triumphantly, the PI raised the liquor to his lips, but before he could take a sip, Rudyard pointed at the river and yowled, “Hey! Is that Shatspeare?!?” The PI was so distracted that he dropped the brandy on the beach.
“Nooooo!” Muddle wailed as the precious liquid glugged onto the sand. While Muddle dove to preserve what remained of the brandy, his crewmates gathered around Rudyard.
Sure enough, about fifty meters from shore a bald man with a goatee and a beaded buckskin outfit was swooshing down the river.
“Hmm, I don’t know…” Ubie observed, “...he looks familiar, but... Shatspeare? I don’t think so.”
“Yeah…” Sian added under her breath, “...if anything the goatee makes him look like Shatspeare’s evil twin.”
“Hmm…” Gellie squinted at the floater, “...he looks pretty beaten up. Do you think he needs help?”
“Nah…” Rudyard pshawed, “...he’ll never survive without help.”
“So!” Muddle was apoplectic, “Being ‘helpful’ is suddenly a priority for you?!” The professor shook the empty flask in Rudyard’s face, “You should have thought of that a little sooner, pal!”
No one paid any attention.
Instead, Sian, Ubie, and Gellie locked eyes. Without a word, they formulated a complex plan of attack and set it in motion. Gellie and Ubie dove into the river, while Sian beckoned to Rudyard and Muddle, “Hey, guys. Follow me!!”
“Wait…” Rudyard’s brow furrowed, “...where are they going?” He pointed at Ubie and Gellie.
Sian responded by feigning deafness.
“Hey?” Muddle nudged Rudyard, “Where’s she going?” Muddle’s eyes followed Sian as she raced down the beach.
“I don’t know, Kyptin...” Rudyard scratched his chin, “...but I think she might be searching for more brandy.”
It took a long moment for the PI’s comment to register. When it did, Muddle shrilled, “What!?”
Gellie and Ubie torpedoed through the water. It took no more than a dozen strokes to draw abreast of Shatspeare. As Gellie suspected, the old boy looked like he had been severely beaten. There were two nasty knocks on his pate. “Dash it…” Shatspeare protested, “...you musn’t bother. Honestly!” Protest though he might, it was obvious that Shatspeare wouldn’t last another minute on his own.
To ease the bard’s mind, Gellie responded with her best Medieval accent, “Never ye mindeth, good sir. We are bloomin’ fond of the odd noontide ablution. T’were it not so, oh Ubie the Merwench?”
Less keen on the dopey accent game, Ubie grumbled, “M-...me sister speaketh true, oh Shatspeare the soggy. Just pipeth down and leave the sculling to us. Ay, what?”
Whatever the nymphs lacked in syntax, they made up for in aquatic virtuosity. Ubie and Gellie took hold of Shatspeare’s jerkin and side-stroked him to shore.
The torrent surged so swiftly that Sian had trouble keeping up. As she raced around a riverbend an extraordinary sight hove into view. Atop a cliff on the river’s north bank an intact copy of Stonehedge, the famous Druidic ruin, was under attack by horse-mounted warriors.
“Ubie!” Gellie shouted, “Do you see that?”
“Yeah!” Ubie answered, “What's going on up there?”
Gellie shook her head.
As Ubie and Gellie approached the riverbank, Sian was on hand to help them beach their latest catch. Shatspeare was in much worse shape than Rudd and Mudd had been following their swim. The bard coughed up nearly a bucket of water, flopped on his back and fell unconscious.
Once he was asleep, Gellie took a closer look at the Bard’s injuries. She clucked her tongue, “He’s taken one heck of a beating, but…” Gellie grimaced at the ugly knocks on Shatspeare’s skull, “...lucky for him, none of the wounds are life-threatening.” Gellie concluded, “He's not suffering from anything that a six-moonth hospital stay wouldn’t fix.”
“Yeah right,” Sian snorted, "That ain’t gonna happen." Her attention was focused on the battle that was raging around Stonehedge. “Something tells me that Shatspeare’s injuries are related to whatever's happening up there.”
“And something tells me…” Ubie pointed at a star-shaped insignia on Shatspeare’s chest, “...this guy’s name isn’t Shatspeare.” Beneath the insignia, the name “Kennewick” was beaded onto his jerkin.
“Well, well, well…” Sian sank to one knee for a closer look. She read the name aloud, “Kennewick...hmm, I wonder…?”
When Sian uttered the unconscious man's name, his eyes flew wide, “No...not Kennewick! The...Human Beings can’t pronounce it. Y-...you must call me...” Tapped out by the effort, the old boy fell back, “Kir-ok…”
“What did he say?” Ubie asked, “I didn’t catch the last part.”
Just then Rudyard and Muddle charged into their midst. Panting heavily, Muddle pestered Rudyard, “See?” He pointed at their companions, “All we had to do was stay by the river. Why complicate things?”
“Yes, but…” Rudyard huffed, “...we would have spotted them much sooner if we had scaled that cliff…”
“Scaled the cliff!” Muddle scoffed, “Give me a break, Sir Edmund. You’re the one who’s afraid of…”
“Guys!” Sian snapped, “Will you pipe down? We’re in the midst of reviving Kirok, so if you wouldn't mind…”
“What?” Rudyard blanched, “D-, did you just say…”
“...Kirok?” Muddle cupped a hand over his mouth, “You’re reviving Kirok!?”
“Yes...” Sian glared at both men, “What’s the matter with you?”
“Nothing!” Muddle elbowed Rudyard, but the PI missed the signal.
“Kirok…?” Rudyard gabbled, “...but he's in the episode where an asteroid…gulp ...destroys a defenseless planet...”
“Let me guess…” Sian sighed, “...you think we’re living out a Star Tech episode in real life, don’t you?”
“No!” Muddle rattled his head, “Not even close.”
“Whoa!” Rudyard gasped, “It’s like you can read my mind!”
Just then Kirok began screaming, “Sacagawanee! I’m coming. Never fear my love! I’m coming as fast as I can!”
“Easy, Kirok.” Gellie held him in place, “I don’t think you’re quite ready…”
Kirok discarded her advice and struggled to his feet. Once upright, he gazed at the raging hilltop battle and cried, “You fools! Can’t you see we’re here to help!” Gellie and Sian hovered nearby but, to their surprise, Kirok did not lose balance and collapse. Instead, Kirok whapped the insignia on his chest, “Kirok to the Sanctum of Secrets. Do you read? Over.”
Gellie nudged Sian and whirled a forefinger around her left temple.
Kirok tapped the insignia again, but before he could speak, a voice crackled out of it, “Captain? Is that you? I, uhh... thought you were dead!”
“No…” Kirok chuckled and then winced at the pain in his head, “No such luck, Sacaga. I had the good fortune…” Here Kirok smiled at the FF, “...of bumping into some friends.”
“Friends?” There was a ring of doubt in the woman’s voice, “You mean the Nez Percé?”
“No,” Kirok shook his head, “Not that kind of friend Lieutenant, but we’ll have to save the chi-chat for later. For now…” Kirok scrutinized the battle at Stonehedge, “...how are you holding up?”
The Human Beings fired volley after volley of arrows at Stonehedge, while someone inside the structure answered with streams of laser pellets. The FF was relieved to learn that the pellets stunned, but did not kill the Human Beings. Nonetheless, stray pellets were sparking fires all over the scrubby hilltop.
“Sacaga…” Kirok probed, “...have you managed to get the Cosmic Rock Blocker back online?”
“Not yet, sir. I’m doing my best, but this is a job for Commander Spork. He’d be able to translate these glyphs in a flash.”
“Glyphs?” Ubie touched Kirok's arm, “Hey, I think we can help with those.” She pointed at Rudyard, “Decoding complex symbols happens to be Rudyard’s ‘thing’.”
“You don't say?” Kirok gazed at Rudyard with elevated interest, “With the battle raging, it will be tricky to get inside the Sanctum of Secrets. Are you sure you can…” He flicked his eyes at the PI, “...handle that kind of heat?”
Ubie smiled, “That won’t be a problem.”
“You know what?” The PI interjected, “Why don’t you text me some images and I’ll decipher the glyphs right here.”
“Kirok…” Sian announced, “We’re a team, so we’ll all accompany you.”
“Is that so?” Kirok appraised the FF with a commander's eye. He looked impressed except for one nagging concern, “So, uhh...what’s with the Count of Monte Cristo over there? Is he with you, too?”
“Oh, him…?” Sian massaged her temples, “Yeah, he’s with us.”
Deaf to the implied insults, Muddle extended his right hand. Before he could exchange pleasantries with Kirok, however, Muddle halted and sneezed explosively, “Haaa-chooo!!”
A moment later, Ubie shrieked, “Oh, my gaaawwwdd, Max!! You just sneezed your goatee on my foot!”
To pass the time during their uphill trudge, Gellie and Ubie quizzed Kirok about his conflict with the Human Beings.
“Oh, that!” Kirok pulled a face, “Sacaga and I came here to stimulate the Human Beings’ pace of social evolution. Unfortunately…” Kirok pointed at the cracks in his skull, “...they’ve been unwilling to abandon their pointless way of life without a fight.”
Ubie peered at Kirok, “You’re joking...aren’t you?”
“Young lady…” Kirok condescended, “...someday you will understand that people can’t fill their bellies with ideals. If these savages are ever going to make Progress, they’ll have to start producing things of value. We’ve come here to jumpstart that process.”
“But…” Gellie was aghast, “...what about the Prime Directive?”
“Oh, that!” Kirok sniggered, “Profits were stagnating, so Star Fleece dumped the Prime Directive for the Prime Elective.”
“The Prime Elective…?” Ubie groaned, “I don’t like the sound of that.”
“Not to worry, my child. Both policies are identical except for one tiny detail. The Prime Elective permits Star Fleece operatives to ‘elect’...” Here Kirok used air quotes to emphasize the significance of the term, ‘elect’, “...to use any means necessary to achieve desired outcomes.”
Ubie and Gellie were speechless.
The hikers arrived at the hilltop. Before them, the battle of the Sanctum of Secrets raged on. Wildfires scorched the land and smoke choked the heavens. The more soft-hearted onlookers—Kirok preferred to say, “soft-headed”—felt like they had arrived at the prelude to Armageddon.
Gazing out upon the hellish nightmare, Kirok flung his arms wide and then hugged them to his chest. With a maniacal gleam in his eyes, Kirok cried, “A wise man once said, ‘Everything which is not forbidden is compulsory!’ That is the lesson the Human Beings are learning today!”
At that instant, a Human Being with an impeccable sense of timing flung a tri-weighted bola around Kirok’s neck. Gellie managed to swat the bola before it crushed Kirok’s head into a lump of pomegranate jelly. Though she saved his life, Gellie could not prevent one of the stones from cracking another ugly dent in Kirok’s pate.
Ubie had to fight an overpowering urge to cheer.
Gellie caught Kirok and held him upright. Once she confirmed that he was still alive, Gellie whapped Kirok’s insignia, “Hey, Sacaga! We’re making a dash for the Sanctum. See you in a hot blippet!”
Sian gave Gellie a fist bump and then addressed the FF. “Attention please! We’re going to make a dash for the Sanctum.” Sian drew her phraser, checked its settings and then said, “On the count of three…”
Pause!
The moment she uttered those words Sian recalled that three-counts and Muddle were a toxic cocktail, but that was not the main reason for her timeout. Unexpectedly, the landscape became suffused with an eerie light. The effect was far too unearthly to be a result of the wildfires. Something else was afoot.
“Oh, no…!” Rudyard wilted, “I was right…”
Too busy to play games, Sian snapped, “Right about what?”
“...right…” Rudyard faltered, “...about the asteroid…”
Sian’s eyes shot skyward. Sure enough, a streak of fire that was brighter and spookier than the sun had begun scorching through the earth’s atmosphere. Sensing there was not a moment to lose, Sian roared, “Run!! Make for the Sanctum! It’s our only hope!”
Helpfully, the strange celestial event had brought the battle of the Sanctum of Secrets to a screeching halt. While the Human Beings gazed at the asteroid in disbelief, the Funtastic Five raced across the battlefield. As they approached the Sanctum a faint dome of repulsive energy became visible. Heaps of half-scorched arrows lay smoldering at the base of the energy shield.
Gellie howled, “Here we come, Sacaga! Drop that shield or Kirok will go out as a cloud of cheap perfume!”
Instantly, a portal whisked open in front of the FF. The heroes charged through the opening like their cabooses were ablaze. The moment they cleared the Sanctum’s protective perimeter, the portal snapped shut behind them.
“Kirok!” Exclaimed a woman wearing a beaded buckskin dress.
Gellie shouted, “Don’t worry, Sacaga! He won’t be playing 3D chess for a while, but Kirok’s fine.”
The FF raced to a glyph-crusted altar at the center of the Sanctum. While Gellie stretched Kirok out on a bench-sized plinth, Sian demanded, “What’s your status, Sacaga?”
Sacaga shook her head, “This Sanctum was constructed by an ancient civilization. The secrets contained in the glyphs…” She gestured at the intricate stone carvings, “...remain just that. Secrets.”
Hearing this, Sian snapped her fingers at the PI, "Did you hear that Rudyard? There's no time to lose!"
“Okay, okay…” Rudyard answered testily, “If you wanted speed, you should have brought an AI.” The PI continued grumbling under his breath as he strolled around the altar.
Sian snatched a glance at the asteroid. The space rock had grown larger and more fearsome. Sian nearly lost it when she turned back and found Rudyard cleaning his glasses, “Rudyard!! This is no time for putzing around!”
“Sian!” Rudyard sighed, “How am I supposed to analyze the glyphs through dirty lenses?”
“Rudyard…!” Sian suppressed the ungentle words that were leaping to mind. Through clenched teeth she said, “We don’t have time…”
“I agree,” The PI interrupted, “We simply don’t have enough time. It would take a supercomputer eons to decipher those glyphs.”
“Ugh!” Rudd’s assessment hit Sian like a gut punch, “Now, what do we do?”
As if on cue, a cyclone of dazzling quantro particles appeared next to the altar. The multihued spartickles began to sizzle and pop like subatomic popcorn. The pops grew louder and more numerous until—Hey, Presto!—the spartickles reconstituted the form of an alien humanoid.
The humanoid had Frankensteen green skin, a poker face and he was outfitted in a classic black and blue Star Fleece uniform. The renowned science officer also had the hippest cornrow hairdo that anybody had ever seen.
"Commander Spork!" Sacaga gasped, "What brings you here?"
Spork glanced at the asteroid and responded drily, "Necessity, Lieutenant."
“Commander Spork!” Muddle and Rudyard could not believe their eyes. But before they could utter another word, the Vulcan declared, “No autographs!” and then focused solely on Sacaga.
“Grasshopper…” The Vulcan tweaked an eyebrow halfway up his forehead, “... have you forgotten your training? Always remember! When the answer is invisible, you must seek the truth…” T’Pring’s better half placed both hands on the altar and fell into a trance, “...within.”
For a few agonizing moments, Spork remained still and silent. But then he transformed!! “Aaaaiiieee!” The Vulcan screamed as pent up emotion ripped his soul to shreds. Overwrought, Spork sobbed, “The paaaiiin...The