Alienbutt had been escorted under guard back to the room that had been turned over for his use late last night; it was two days since he had been told of the plan to rescue Wickede. The room was small, messy and full of empty whiskey bottles. Frederick stood in the doorway surveying the result of Alienbutt’s epic bender. On the bed, Alienbutt lay on his back snoring, just wearing one red boot and a pair of tiger print underpants that should have been banned for their skimpiness if nothing else. Frederick stepped into the room, carefully avoiding a discarded kebab, and walked over to the sleeping Alienbutt. Outside the door, two security officers stood waiting, both showing bruises from where they had been hit while trying to subdue the drunken commander the previous night, after the barman in the bar where he was drinking had refused to serve him any more whiskey.
Alienbutt's face was also bruised with one eye swollen shut. On his chest were faint marks left from where he had been tazered into submission after he had knocked out the third security officer by hitting him with a chair. Looking down at the unconscious figure to ensure he was not seriously injured, he turned to leave.
“When I was young, back on Sloopystool, me and Nifty once climbed over the wall into the gardens behind the Temple of Sung the one eyed Llama,” Alienbutt croaked from a dry throat. “It was a magical place for us; there was a real grass lawn and all these great beautiful plants that were covered in flowers. It even had a pond with a waterfall and real fish swimming. I always wanted a house with a garden.”
Frederick turned back towards Alienbutt and looked down at him. Alienbutt lay staring at the ceiling. “Maybe when this is all over we could sort it out for you,” he replied softly.
“They would have to be artificial plants though. I’m no good at keeping plants but with artificial ones it would always look perfect.” Alienbutt sat up and swung his feet off the bed. “I liked that old monk from the temple. When he caught us, rather than giving us both a good thrashing, he fed us and told us the story of Sung the one eyed Llama and how he passed on the words of their God through his disciples until someone assassinated him by shooting him from his blind side. That’s why they said he was Sung the one eyed Llama, screwed after being shot from the left.”
Frederick walked over to a small wash basin and, unable to find a glass, filled an empty whiskey bottle with water. “You need to sober up, Alienbutt, the ship will be ready soon.”
Alienbutt took the offered bottle and drank deeply. “I think I’m starting to understand how the llama must have felt, a big stupid animal set up before those big crowds; not understanding what the hell’s happening but waiting for a bullet.”
“You don’t believe it was chosen by the Gods then?” asked Frederick.
“The monk told us it was a big con trick but it meant the disciples and monks always had full bellies and a good roof over their heads. People want to believe. The stranger you make it, the more they believe it’s true,” replied Alienbutt with a half-smile. “And the monk knew, as it was his grandfather's con to start with. He even ordered the animal shot. By making the animal a martyr it made people believe even more, as then it was immortal.”
Frederick looked at Alienbutt and saw the terror written on his face, then just as quickly it was gone as Alienbutt smiled. “Get me a fresh bottle and I'll find my other boot and I’m ready to go.” He looked down at himself and noticed his state of undress. “Maybe I should find some clothes too.”
Wickede sat on the floor of the ship; the engines and Frank’s propulsion drive were burnt out beyond even his ability to repair with the limited tools to hand. To avoid the torpedoes, Frank had used the drive blind and the jump as the drive took over had almost ripped the ship apart. They had no idea where they had ended up, but they were still alive. Using the last of the fuel and basic thrusters, Wickede had managed to get them to a planet near to where they had ended their jump so at least they were not marooned in space. Instead they were marooned on an unknown planet, which was on the whole, quite a bit better.
The planet was quite hospitable, with water and food aplenty, so at least they would not starve. Frank had spent the last few days tinkering with the communications array and his F.T.L. drive, connecting cables between the two and mumbling to himself as he worked. Wickede had tried to ask him what he was doing but Frank’s response was a long string of calculations, so he now left him to get on with whatever he was doing, leaving a plate of food and drinks next to him so at least he didn’t starve. From what Snoodgrass had said, when Frank was working on an idea he would often reply to questions with calculations or even in a string of binary numbers, and it wasn’t until he finished that he became intelligible again and talked as normally as he ever was going to.
Finally Frank looked up from the F.T.L. drive where he had just connected a keyboard and grinned at Wickede. “I’ve done it. You need to send a short message, no more than twenty characters.”
“Done what?” asked a confused Wickede, not having a clue what Frank was going on about.
“Sorry, didn’t I tell you what I was trying to do? Of course I didn’t in case it didn’t work and I looked stupid. I’ve connected the communicator to the F.T.L. drive which will work just enough to act as a signal booster. The signal should follow the path we took to get here but I’ve had to use the final residual Alienbutt essence so we can only send a short message or it won’t reach our dimension.”
“So we have moved dimension then. I had hoped we had just travelled a really long way,” answered Wickede with resignation.
“Don’t worry, any rescue mission should be funnelled to where we are and not end up in another dimension entirely. Our transit will have left a tunnel in the fabric of reality and drag a second ship to us like a lodestone. As long as Snoodgrass can follow my designs for the F.T.L. drive we just have to wait here, as long as they get the message. When I realised that the drive may jump dimension I placed a homing beacon on this drive and a locator onto the plans I left with Snoodgrass just in case anything went wrong. I just forgot to tell him about it in the excitement to try the drive out, just an extra bit of insurance in case my lodestone theory doesn’t work.” Frank smiled apologetically at his slight oversight.
“You’re making this up as you go along, aren’t you Frank?”
Frank looked sheepish. “Well it is a totally new field of science.”
“Do you know for certain we're in another dimension?”asked Wickede.
“Yes,” replied Frank. “Almost certainly. Well, quite likely.”
Wickede stood up shaking his head. “Let’s send a message and trust that Snoodgrass can follow what the hell you’re on about, or I’m going to spend the rest of my life not understanding half of what you say to me. The Omniverse will see us right or leave us for dead, but I’m packing my bags and looking out for an Alienbutt.”
A buzzer sounded from the control panel. Wickede walked over to check it out. “Let's send the message quick. We’ve got company heading towards the planet. The sensors are picking up three ships, unknown origin.”
To be continued.
thanks for reading, all images are mine.