|
|
|
The door knob is a rubix cube. Deuteronomy 3.0 slips into the room like science fiction,loosely followed by Radius, his T.S., and his schnauser, Robot. Deuteronomy (known to his partners as "Deut") looks out of place in his replica of the outfit Richard Dix wore in Cimarron. Radius has already changed into a 1982ish-enough corduroy jacket with patches on the elbows.
"Gargle my danglers!" Robot barks in a code that Deut has taught him. It's a code that employs sexual metaphors and this is one of its worst possible configurations-an invitation for an Other to perform an act. Had Robot said "I'm gonna nail you," or "screw you," team 3.0 would probably be looking at a more favorable situation. Deut starts to move forward and finds that he's stuck like a security guard to his current position. They are in a time niche.
"T-T-X the IVA, it's just an M-O-D," he hears a voice whisper. "Can you decipher that?" he mutters to Radius over the course of 3 minutes in a time-distorted voice that makes him sound like an eighty year old man. "No," Radius signals using an expediting time code he's developed for situations just like this, "it's some new corporate acronymy. Time is sticky here--a minor storm. Look over by the wet bar." Radius points to a beautiful woman dressed in a cheerleading outfit. Over the course of 20 seconds or so, they watch as she spurns the advances of a muscular bartender in a pink Polo shirt, walks three or four steps, is at the bar again listening to his line, is rejecting him, walks three or four steps, is at the bar again listening.....
"She's in a rip, my Trusty Sidekick," Deut says in a western drawl which is given a Gary Cooper quality by the time drag, "Looks like this Box is just as unstable as the last one. Let's flip out of this niche and then come back and save the little lady."
"Let's make it quick, though. They're showing William One's sermon tonight," With that, Radius pulls out his Doublelizer for a dimensional flip in and out. "I'd like to swim in her pool," Robot barks, indicating that this is the wisest course of action.
Robot is nearly 7 feet tall and has the look of a very big, dumb, mean man. "Nozzle fits to hose," he says and laughs: the situation is stable.
"Let's bail," Radius says growing more distraught at his current appearance as they pass a Licorice Pizza.
"Tracy gets off at the Orange Julius in about 10 minutes, let's get over there and see if she'll score us some free food!" Deut says, yelling when he gets to food. This is all an inflectional code that tells Radius that his partner might have sensed Apheds at the party in the Box, and that they should try to locate their Monitor assignment and get any necessary supplies. Radius confirms that there is indeed a Monitor at the Orange Julius in the Food Court named Tracy Marra. Deut's instincts are impeccable. Sometimes Radius worries that he doesn't even need a T.S. and voices his concern and pride at the same time in code: "Free food!"
Tracy is alot more beautiful than Radius. She looks like a heavy metal version of the young Olivia Hussey. It's easy for Radius to see why Deut chose her. "Hey, what's up guys? You come here to mooch? Come in the back." The three of them follow her into a back room. "Here you go, guys," she says and brings them each a hamburger and fries and a handful of cheap Bic pens--the best weapons against Apheds in this era's Box. Tracy then starts a lecture on the ins and outs of working at Orange Julius, which, when decoded comes out like this: "These ought to do the trick. Supposedly, the flip-in changes their molecular structure. The ink is like venom to any antimatter creature. They're sort of Aphed erasers...if you can get close enough to use them." Deut uses a concert story code to ask about previous Aphed encounters in the Box. "I haven't heard of any from any of the other Partners," Tracy answers in a primitive doubt code. "We gotta bail," Radius codes. "Rush is playing at the Forum."
The storm seems to have settled so they are able to move more freely, but the temperature is still cool. "Do a quick scan, Rad," Deut says and Radius puts on his infrared. Deut grips the ballpoints which he's noticed have become slightly elongated. "No! The party seems pretty clean, we should sit down in time for the speech."
William One's famous Sermon of the Higher Plain speech is being shown and it's one of Radius' favorites. They sit down in front of an early '80s Magnavox which shows a man in a 21st century priest's cowl standing at a holographic podium.
"The ExtraDimensional Box (also known as EDB or just Box) was fabricated so that we could live peacefully in the era of our choice and yet still enjoy our present comforts. 'The Future may be dark, but the past is bright.'" There is a sigh when these words are said. It is a famous quote out of the Book of Nathan in the Thermoglast Bible. It is one of the few truly beautiful quotes out of what many consider to be a dry troubleshooting guide on God's post-apocalyptic design flaws.
"Yes, the world does not have to end for us. We thought it had ended once," William One continues, and as he speaks a hologram of the angel Thermoglast appears behind him, "But we have been given a second chance." The crowd applauds these lines.
"This has obviously been edited for television, not a single time jump and that was right before the Mirroring," Deut points out.
"Yeah, I was there when the speech was given," Radius elaborates,"William would repeat the same line over and over again. Once, time went back 3 days and I was in my pajamas in bed without knowing what happened. They had to use a Quantum Stabilizer to give him 40 consecutive minutes."
"I've also indicated that we don't let any of the Monitors into the EDB. They are our most important asset. Without them, all of our history could be erased in seconds or thousands of years. They are pioneers who are helping the people of the future find a niche in the past."
"Nonsense!" Deut hears a voice whisper. It is a deep growl, probably a Dork (Dorks aren't as serious to the cause and often Costume as bizarre creatures for entertainment), but he has to be sure. "Scan over by the hot tub," he commands. Over in front of the hot tub, a Lite beer crunched in his hand, stands the muscular bartender in the pink Polo shirt. His collar flairs up. His eyes grow beady and red. The room hushes. "RRRoaaarr," he growls and stares straight at Radius. "Nonsense I said!" Radius looks for a Costumer on the monster's belt in hopes that he can deprogram it and expose a normal human being, but he can't find one.
"So, treat your Monitors with respect, for though they are inhabitants of a less advanced time, they guard our secret," William continues.
The bartender starts to approach the 3.0 team looking almost comical in its attempt to negotiate the odd changes in climate and time that any Box inhabitant would be used to. He is tripping over subseconds and cold spots. "He must have a Costumer," Deut says looking like he's ready for a Western gun duel. Radius frantically switches to infrared and scans the bartender's head and finds that it's a mask and underneath it is the blank face of an Aphed. "It's an Aphed," he whispers to Deut. Radius can see in the scanner that the only facial features are those the Aphed has drawn on itself; it looks like a child's drawing of an abusive parent's face-it is a tell-tale feature of any Aphed and it's horrifying. The monster stands still, tilting its head in confusion at the scanner. Radius has never been confronted by one of these antimatter invaders. When the Mirroring Crisis occured in the early 30th century, Apheds started popping up all over. It was rare to see them this far in the past, but it wasn't unheard of. Deut confronted an Aphed and he had barely lived through the experience. His first T.S. had died during the encounter.
"Her balls are big," Robot says and leaps at the monster, biting his leg. "Transvestite configuration, " Deut thinks, realizing that this indicates a contradiction between what things seem to be and what they are. "Dork!" He yells and in a nanosecond, three gleaming Stunpins are sticking out of the beast's torso. "I knew it. An Aphed would have disappeared or would have annihilated us already! They negotiate time anomalies much easier than this guy."
The monster looks down at its chest and grunts, its Costumer undamaged. Deut grabs the monster by its arm, turns back to Radius and says: "Flip out and we'll see what we've got."
"He's over there," Radius says in a high voice, pushing his breasts into place, and pointing to one of the booths. Robot walks over and opens the door to reveal a teenage boy in a terrycloth shirt and bluejeans. He's dripping with sweat and his glasses are fogged up. "Shit," he says.
"Are you a fucking Dork?" Deut asks, pulling out a switchblade. "You look like one, but I have my doubts." (Deut doesn't bother to put any of this in code).
The boy looks up at them silently. His eyes well up with tears and transition shock. He breaks into a series of gesticulations that to any observer would seem like evasive actions. It's actually a body movement code that tells them that he is not a Dork, but a Monitor. His name is Ken Clay and he was screened and hired by William Five last year. He is 13 years old.
Radius is sweating. The scuffle has made him feel the weight of his stomach. "Look, school boy," he scowls, makeup running down his cheeks," You knew that if you told anyone about letting me look at your vocabulary test, I would get my boyfriend to kick the shit out of you! You don't leave us much of a choice. Why'd you do it? I thought you were cool with us."
Ken deciphers the code and hears the following: Monitor, when we recruited you, you were informed that the penalty for even trying to flip dimensionally was death. You don't leave us much of a choice. How'd you do it? I know none of the Partners or T.S.'s told you shit!"
Ken tries to blurt out his reasons uncoded, but when he tries to speak all he can remember is code: "My friends said I didn't have to take your bullying. So, I kept my my paper covered. And then I told Mrs. Frydman that you forced me to copy your paper. "
Deut interprets the code and finds out that he tagged along with a group of Dorks. They didn't care that he was a Monitor. They loaned him a copy of Costumer 5.2 (the latest version). The Aphed mask was Ken's own special touch.
"Don't kill me!" Ken screams and Deut reluctantly but efficiently sticks him with the blade.
"Let's get out of here," he says uncoded and then flips his long hair back several times which tells Radius and Robot that they will be forced to move on to another era.
"I'd like to cut her cake," Robot says and laughs.
Three weeks later, she's lost a lot of weight and looks even prettier, like a real Hollywood vamp. But despite this and her sultry voice, she can't find any gigs. One night, she's having some herbal tea with her next door neighbor Wayne, a benign pothead, when Wayne's pal Lyndsey comes over.
"He's possessed of a galant handsomeness," she thinks, "it's almost medieval."
Lyndsey smiles, and produces from his slender, but graceful hand a small leather pouch.
"Try some of this, Stevie," he says, pouring some white crystals out on to the table. She's unsure, but she wants to impress this handsome stranger, so she tries it anyway. Instantly, she feels like she knows all about Lyndsey, a crystalline knowledge. She feels driven through the mountains and to the sea like a magnet. Later that night, she realizes she's in love with Lyndsey. She writes his name all over her decorated songbook and then, inspired by the "magic powder", she writes a song called "Crystal."
That weekend, Wayne says that Lyndsey is playing at a local club and would she like to come and see him play. She nods emphatically.
Lyndsey strides on stage with the confidence of a great troubadour and plays with a passion that far surpasses even Joan Baez, Stevie thinks. Later that night, Lyndsey takes her back to his apartment which is a jungle of cords, wires, microphones, and other recording equipment, and after making love, Stevie gets the courage to play Lyndsey her song.
"Wow, that's pretty good, Stevie," he says, and thinks, "Her voice is good and besides she's a piece of ass, she could really boost my waning club act."
A few weeks later, Buckingham-Nicks as they are now called have an appointment with famed record producer Keith Olsen. He listens to their songs and says he can probably get them a deal with Polydor records. Lyndsey is so excited that he breaks into a seizure.
The next monday, Keith calls back with bad news. It seems the big brass at Polydor don't feel the record will sell. Keith says he tried to convince them by saying that the record will ride on the coat tails of the singer/songwriter fad; they weren't convinced. But Keith has an idea.....
"Come on, Stevie, it won't be so bad," Lyndsey consoles, "I'll pose topless, too. They won't see anything, it'll be fine."
"I refuse," Stevie answers swabbing her nasal cavity with a thimblefull of coke,"I have my principles you know."
Eventually, Stevie succumbs. Why can't she say no to Lyndsey?
A few months and zero album sales later, Keith Olsen is in a quandary. Not only is Buckingham-Nicks a failure, but one of his biggest groups Fleetwood Mac, a smacked-out blues combo, is playing stinky little Birmingham dives.
"Absolutely not," Mick Fleetwood answers cutting a merry fart, "We're a smacked-out blues combo. No sell out! I don't want any bloody, wheat germ-eating California bleeding James Taylor blokes hitchin' on to our star," he burps and returns to his greasy turkey wing, chomping and slurping.
"But Mick you haven't even heard the record yet," Keith puts on the record, "Take a look at the cover," he smiles.
Mick's eyes bug out of his head as chunks of turkey fly out of his beard, "Aaah, but who's this skanky, skinny wench!? I'd like to give her a right old pokin'!Haar! She could join, play the tamborine in the back, and then provide some other services! Haaar!"
"Well, that's fine, Mick, but the deal is both Nicks and Buckingham join. Listen to that guitar man. Here, snort some of this coke; cool out, man," Keith cuts a few lines and Mick proceeds to snort them, growling and spitting all the while.
"Oh I suppose," he says moments later, "but we're still a blues band and that fruitcake better stay out of Mick's way. This isn't Freakwood Mac! It's Fleetwood Mac, the greatest blues band in the world."
A few months later, Fleetwood Mac are playing a gig in Bakersfield, California, introducing the upcoming album's more pop-oriented material to a very few lucky fans. Lyndsey is singing "Blue Letter," and Mick is making googly eyes at Stevie. Just as Mick is wondering why she won't put out for such a well-endowed bloke as himself, Lyndsey inexplicably falls onto the stage and starts having an epileptic fit. The audience goes wild.
"Wow, they love him more than they loved Peter Green back at the Albert Hall in '68!" Mick screams, "What a performer! This may just work out after all!" THE END.