Quantum Cheeseburger

by Jeremy Michelson

  Amber giggled. Again.

  I sighed and lay down on the bench seat. I really didn't want to know anymore. Life had given me far too many strange turns lately. I waded up a coat under my head to keep my face off the rough wool blanket. The coat smelled faintly of perfume. Musky with hints of rose and lavender. Kind of like what Julie used to wear when we first met. Why had she stopped wearing it? When had she stopped wearing it?

  I couldn’t remember. I couldn’t even remember what her favorite color was. Maybe I never knew. I tried to think of things I knew about Julie. Her hair was black. Her eyes were deep brown, almost black. She didn’t like hiking. She didn’t like my taste in music. She didn’t like my jeep.

  Thinking made me depressed. I needed to stop doing it. But...

  I didn’t know anything about her family. Well, now I knew she was a general’s daughter. But nothing about her past, now that I thought about it. She never talked about herself. And I was always happy to chatter on about everything and nothing.

  And she acted like she loved me. Well no, she didn’t. But she paid attention to me. She was beautiful and she acted like she wanted to be with me.

  I’m an idiot.

  Dr. Kincaid was arguing with Liz about quantum events and temporal anomalies in relation to Native American religious rights. I was somewhat surprised that Liz was holding her own.

  I closed my eyes, breathing in the faint traces of perfume from the coat–as well as stinky VW exhaust. I wanted a wormhole to open up and transport me back to simpler, happier times.

  The gentle rocking of the VW soon put me to sleep.

  Thirty-Four

  I dreamed of stars. A galaxy of stars. Stars packed so close together there were like a single glowing smear across the sky. So bright that the night sky cast shadows from the willowy buildings in the city below me. I stood on the balcony of a tower. The city spread out before me. Glittering spires, delicate, seemingly defying gravity. Around them wove thin, gold ribbons. Somehow I recognized these were roads, hanging in mid-air. Distant snow-capped mountains ringed purple on the horizon.

  I breathed in clean air that had an odd, metallic tang to it that seemed perfectly normal.

  It was all so beautiful. It seemed perfect.

  But there was something wrong here. I couldn’t see it. But I could feel it. Something was missing.

  Silence. There was so much silence here.

  Movement caught my eye. I turned and saw another person. A woman, impossibly tall and thin. Her skin was dark, almost pure ebony. The iris' of her large eyes were silver, the pupils pinpricks at the center of them. Cream colored hair trailed down to her shoulders. She wore form-fitting gold armor. I don't know how I knew it was armor. It could have been clothing, but the dream told me it was armor.

  She held out a thin arm to me. Her fingers were slender and long.

  "It is time, we must go," she said. She didn't say it in English, or any language I'd heard before. But I still understood it.

  I tried to ask her where we were going, but my lips wouldn't form the words. Instead, I took her hand. We went into the room behind the balcony. The room was elegantly furnished. Tables and couches and paintings as ethereal and beautiful as the city below had been. In the center of the room was a pedestal. On the pedestal, a black circle rotated in mid air.

  I went to the pedestal and contemplated the circle for a moment. It was flat, turning like a giant coin in the air. The woman stood at my side.

  “The ship is ready,” she said, “We await.”

  I nodded. I extended my slender fingered hand to the disk.

  Thirty-Five

  The floor of the VW smacked my entire body. Except it was the other way around.

  “Shit! He’s coming again! Hang on!” Liz yelled.

  I lay on the floor. Blinked. Tried to comprehend was going on. The wadded up coat, still smelling of rose scented perfume, was now on my head.

  Something slammed the VW. Metal crunched by my head. It threw me back against the seat supports. I grunted from the pain and scrambled to get up on the seat.

  “Go faster!” Kincaid shouted.

  “I’d go faster if you got out and pushed!” Liz said.

  “Fuck that,” Kincaid replied.

  I looked out the back window. Cracks snaked over it from the crumpled left corner. Headlights came right at me. I ducked back down.

  The other vehicle smashed into us.

  A heavy engine growled. The vehicle backed off. Then surged forward. Hit us again.

  Metal screeched and crunched. Tires squealed. The back end fishtailed. Liz and Kincaid had a swearing contest up front.

  “I knew we should have left you guys there!” Liz shouted.

  “You’re fucking welcome,” Kincaid said.

  The other vehicle rumbled up alongside us. From the hulking size, it could only be a Grum. And I had a strong suspicion who was in it.

  The Grum roared ahead of us. Then turned right in front of the VW.

  Liz swore and wrenched the wheel. The VW left the road. Bounced over the hardpan. I held onto the seat as my butt went airborne.

  Kincaid's cursing reached white-hot levels. If we could have focused into a beam, it would have fried the people chasing us.

  The VW came to a sudden stop that threw us all forward. The minibus’s little engine raced.

  “What the hell?” Liz said.

  I struggled to sit up. My back and legs ached from getting slammed around. I glanced back. The Grum’s headlights approached.

  “They’re still coming for us,” I said.

  “I think we have bigger problems,” Clair said.

  I turned around. Blue light suddenly bathed the front of the VW.

  At the center of the light was an alien.

  An alien dressed in a dark gray business suit. It looked good on him. I could tell he was an alien by the blue tentacles sprouting from his triangular head and his glowing orange eyes.

  The sight of him filled me with a sudden and inexplicable, burning hate. I shook my head. The feeling faded.

  “Why’d you stop!” Kincaid shouted. “Run him down!”

  Liz gunned the engine. She turned to Kincaid. "You hear that? That's the sound of us going nowhere," she said, "The wheels aren't on the ground anymore."

  Kincaid sat back. “Oh. Well that fucking blows,” he said.

  The alien held something in his left hand. The blue light came from it.

  “Dr. Kincaid, do you know which alien race that one is?” I asked.

  “Dons,” Kincaid said, “Of all the fucking luck.”

  I slumped against the seat. How had they found us?

  “Who are the Dons?” Amber asked.

  “The bad boys of the galaxy,” Kincaid said, “SixUnion’s equivalent of organized crime. Interstellar mafia, if you will.”

  I decided I needed to get mad. I didn’t see any other option. I concentrated. Tried to work up a nice, frothing rage about the whole situation. I pictured the alien laughing at me and telling me it wasn’t personal.

  I got mildly irritated, but the anger wouldn’t come. Even the irritation faded quickly. I felt...sedated.

  Someone banged against the side of the van.

  “Shut it down or I’ll shoot it out,” a man said. Julie’s goon. Well, that confirmed who’d been chasing us, at least.

  Liz shut the motor off. Moments later the blue light faded. The van dropped to the ground. It bounced, creaking on its ancient shocks. The Grum was parked behind us, headlights on high. The van’s door slammed open. Julie’s goon stood there, grinning, blaster in hand.

  “Miss me, cupcake?” he said. He cast an appraising glance at the women. “My, my. Where did you boys find these lovely ladies?”

  Guilt washed over me. The three of them had helped us, and now they were in deep crap because of me. Me and my stomach. I only wanted a cheeseburger! And some beans.

  “Let them go,” I said, “I’ll go with you. I won’t give you any trouble.”

&
nbsp; The goon’s grin widened. “Oh, you definitely won’t be giving me any trouble,” he said.

  He raised his blaster and shot me in the chest.

  Searing pain.

  Screaming.

  Nothing.

  Thirty-Six

  I was in a starship. I didn't know how I knew that. The room I was in didn't scream out starship. It looked like the penthouse suite of a super rich artist. Everything looked elegant. Like it had been lovingly carved by a fine craftsman. A slightly floral, foresty scent filled the room.

  I sipped from an icy cold cup. The beverage was spicy in a strange and unfamiliar way. It comforted me, though.

  I put the cup down on a floating table and stood up. The floor seemed a lot farther away than I was used to. I stepped up to an oval window. It had a gold covering on it. As I approached, I took a moment to appreciate the intricate designs etched onto the surface.

  A wave of sadness washed over me. Like I mourned for something lost.

  I touched the scrollwork and the gold panel slid upward without a sound. Part of me expected to see stars, but instead, there were bursts of gray and blue against a red background.

  “You shouldn’t look at it,” a woman behind me said, “People have lost they minds staring into it.”

  The gold panel slid over the window, shutting out the lights.

  “Have you ever wondered where the light comes from?” I asked, “The void has no stars, no fires that burn in the night. Not even a single candle.”

  I still faced the window. My eyes traced the etchings. They were so beautiful.

  “You’re being silly,” the woman said, “There is no light. It’s just energy patterns from the quantum transference between the latticed plains. Your mind is just making up images of lights because what your eyes send it is incomprehensible.”

  “There is no romance in that,” I said.

  I turned to look at her. It was the ebony woman in the gold armor. Except now the armor was gone. She wore a simple blue robe over her tall, slender figure. The thin fabric left little to the imagination. A simple gold circle sat below the hollow of her throat. She was so young. So beautiful. Her ebony skin was smooth, unlike my aged skin. How had we ended up in this situation?

  “You and your romance,” she said, “You’re a king fleeing a dead world, chased by evil itself. You carry a secret so powerful that it could upset the balance of power in the galaxy forever. Women worship you, men want to be you. How much more romance do you want?”

  I reached out and caressed her cheek. Her skin was warm, so soft. My arms were long, my hands thin, the skin as ebony as hers.

  “My heart longs for home,” I said.

  Her face hardened. She pulled away.

  “How is the device?” she asked, “Is it still giving you trouble?”

  I touched my chest. There was an ache in it, but not from the device. She was so young. So angry. Rightly so. I wished I could bridge the gulf between us. Our years were an uncrossable gap. A distance flesh could not close.

  “It is all right,” I said, “It and I have come to an agreement, more or less.”

  I moved over to her. Put my hands on her shoulders. To my surprise, she was weeping. Large tears slid down her cheeks. My golden warrior had shed more of her armor than I thought.

  "What are we going to do?" she asked.

  Thirty-Seven

  Voices.

  Arguing.

  Cold.

  Awareness came from a distance. For a moment I was two bodies. I was a tall, thin, ebony skinned alien. The sweet scent of the woman’s skin still in my mind.

  And I was myself, a human being. Average looking in every way. Lying on a cold, hard surface. I had a dull ache in my chest. The rest of my body tingled, like armies of ants crawled under my skin.

  The vestiges of the dream faded away. The voices became clear.

  “I didn’t tell him to kill the guy,” Julie said, “I told him to take care of him.”

  “That’s what I did,” the goon said, “I took care of him. I thought the whats-it would be in the van. The way he went crazy on us before, I didn’t want to take any chances.”

  “Yet the device was not in the vehicle, was it?” a new voice asked.

  The tones were smooth and deep with a slight English accent.

  I opened my eyes. Everything was gray. I blinked. Something covered my face. Actually, I could feel my entire body was covered. A sheet or a blanket. It had a clean linen smell like in a hospital.

  Of course. Throw a sheet over the corpse, right?

  I concentrated on breathing shallowly and staying as still as possible.

  “I don’t know,” the goon said, “The others aren’t talking. Not yet.”

  The others! They were still alive?

  “We’ll make them talk,” Julie said, “We’ll find it, Bey Jodo. Once Kincaid wakes up–”

  “Will you find it?” Bey Jodo asked, “The device has proved elusive for millennia. It seemed so close this time. Our disappointment will be great if it is not found.”

  “I promise you,” Julie said, “We will find it.”

  Footsteps came toward me, clicking on what sounded like metal plate. I closed my eyes and assumed what I hoped was a corpse-like demeanor. The footsteps stopped and the sheet pulled from my face.

  I kept my body slack. Prayed the thing would lose interest quickly. A smell like rancid cat food washed over me. It must have been the alien’s body odor. It nearly made me gag.

  “Your race is so ugly,” Bey Jodo said, “How do you stand to look at yourselves?”

  Neither Julie nor the goon answered. Something poked my cheek. It took all my will to not scream.

  “Bey Jodo,” Julie said, “What happened to the makers that the Professor gave to him? They were supposed to turn him into a bomb, weren’t they?”

  The thing dragged the sheet back over my face. I let out a slow breath.

  “Yes, that is a curious thing,” Bey Jodo said, “Makers have never failed like that before. Before you dispose of the body, I will need to take samples to analyze.”

  I didn’t know whether to be comforted or disturbed by that news. Malfunctioning nanobots were fine, just as long as they malfunctioned in my favor.

  Footsteps clicked away from me. I breathed easier as the rotting meat stench diminished.

  “Where are Kincaid’s formulas?” Bey Jodo asked.

  “Here,” Julie said.

  There was a pause.

  “What is this?” Bey Jodo asked.

  “It’s–it’s a memory stick,” Julie said, “Kincaid’s formulas are on it.”

  “What good does this do me?” Bey Jodo asked, “Do you think I have some magic to extract information from your primitive devices?”

  “I thought–” Julie said.

  “Think some more,” Bey Jodo said.

  “We can get them straight from Kincaid’s mouth if you want,” the goon said, “He’ll be begging to tell them once I start in on him.”

  “Just get them,” Bey Jodo said, “I am unhappy with his lack of cooperation.”

  I heard a hiss and a thunk, like a door closing.

  “That went well,” the goon said.

  “Shut up,” Julie said.

  More footsteps moved away from me. Another hiss and a thunk.

  I was alone in the room. I hoped.

  Thirty-Eight

  I waited a few minutes. Lay on the cold, hard surface. Took shallow, shallow breaths and tried to not move. My ears ached as I strained to hear anything in the room. I heard a soft shush of air flowing. Once, muffled footsteps. But they continued on.

  Finally, I sat up. Pulled the sheet off my head.

  Dim overhead lighting gave everything a bluish tinge. The room looked like some type of medical bay. There were a couple beds with racks of equipment mounted on the wall next to and above them. Cabinets lined another wall. The faint stink of rancid meat hung in the room.

  My chest ached. I looked down and bit off a g
asp.

  A charred ring of flesh sat on my chest. Inside it was pink skin, webbed with bright red blood vessels over the outline of my ribs and sternum. One side pulsed with the beating of my heart.

  Years ago, before I decided to go into computer programming, I had considered a career in law enforcement. That is, until I stumbled across some photos online. They showed a man shot in the chest with a plasma gun. The man’s chest was a charred crater, his organs and bones fried away by the blast. The text with the photos said the man died instantly. The look of agony on etched on his dead face told me death waited a few seconds before taking him away.

  After that, I decided to find a career that didn't involve the use of lethal weapons.

  And I’d been doing really well avoiding violence right up until a couple days ago.

  I gently probed the fresh skin. The area was sensitive, but not painful. The bone there seemed slightly soft. It really creeped me out.

  I should be dead. I had been dead. At least parts of me had. Julie and the goon clearly believed I was dead. I didn’t recall hearing any tears in her voice, either.

  Really, what had I seen in her?

  My only question was, what saved me? The Dons’ malfunctioning makers? Or the mysterious object that melted into my skin?

  No one spoke up with an answer. I decided to move on.

  I slid off the table. The top of my stolen coveralls was in tatters. But, torn and singed, it was still all I had. The nattily dressed alien hadn’t left a spare charcoal gray business suit hanging around.

  A human sized door stood along the opposite wall. It was the only exit I could see. I moved around the room. Searched for a weapon. All the cabinets were locked, there was nothing left loose. Not even a stick to use as a club.

  I allowed myself a moment of self-pity for not having the skills of a super spy. A proper spy could probably weave my tattered coveralls into a ninja throwing star. Or something.

  I stepped up to the door. I had no plan. No idea what I was going to do. I had a vague notion of finding the women and Dr. Kincaid and then breaking out of wherever this was.