Quantum Cheeseburger

by Jeremy Michelson

  Yes, yes. Idiot. I know.

  The door slid open with a hiss and a thunk. I poked my head out into the corridor. Empty. That seemed like a good thing. I stepped out, half expecting alarms to sound. Nothing. Just an empty, metal lined corridor with blue-white lights overhead. The rancid meat smell was stronger, with a metallic tinge I could taste at the back of my throat.

  The way to my left ended at another door, the way to my right went farther down. It ended at another yet door. I had hoped for some signs. Something like: go this way to get some plasma rifles, sonic grenades, then go another two doors down to rescue the people you accidentally put in jeopardy.

  Alas, no such signs appeared.

  I sighed and rubbed my face. My cheeks were stubbly. I don’t know why it bothered me. Lack of shaving should have been the least of my worries. I should be glad I was still around to keep growing stubble.

  I took the longer route, walking as softly as I could. I reached the end of the corridor. The door refused to open. Now what genius?

  I was about to turn and try the other way when the door slid open. For a moment the goon and I stood face to face. Well, face to neck, since he was a good eight inches taller than me. The goon glanced down at my chest.

  Then he did an amazing thing.

  His face twisted in utter terror and he started to scream like a little girl. I wanted him to shut up, so I did the only thing I could think of. I kicked him in the crotch as hard as I could.

  The air whuffed out of him and he bent over. I punched him in the nose. It crunched under my fist and he flew backwards. He landed on his back with a thud. I stepped into the room and he scrambled away from me.

  “I’m sorry!” he cried, “I didn’t mean to kill you!”

  The door slid shut behind me. I took another step toward him. He scrunched up against the wall, eye wide, lips trembling. Blood trickled from his nose.

  “Please, don’t take me,” he said, “I don’t want to go.”

  It would have been funny, if the guy hadn’t actually killed me. I held my hands out.

  “You’ve been very bad,” I said, “The dark one wants you.”

  The goon covered his face with his hands. “No! Please, not yet!”

  Maybe my luck was finally turning.

  “Very well,” I said, “The dark one will give you one chance to redeem yourself.”

  The goon looked over the tips of his fingers. “Anything! Just tell me.”

  My mind raced. Tried to figure out the best way to work this.

  “You must right what you have wronged,” I said, “You must set the captives free and make sure they come to no harm.”

  The goon didn’t say anything for several moments. My heart nearly stopped. Again. Had he already killed them, too?

  “Do I have to?” he asked, “Julie and Bey Jodo will be really pissed.”

  Poop. Apparently, he was more scared of my ex and the alien than the ghost of the guy he recently killed.

  I threw my head back and moaned and shook my fists at the ceiling.

  The goon clapped his hands over his ears and squeezed his eyes shut. I waited until he opened them. I gave him an exaggerated shrug.

  “Your choice,” I said, “The dark one will be happy to take you now.”

  “Wait! Let me think a minute,” the goon said.

  His brow furrowed and he rubbed the sides of his head. I could almost smell the smoke generated by his thought processes.

  “Okay, maybe there’s a way, but you’re putting me up shit creek, cu–um, dude,” he said.

  I shrugged again. “Still your choice. Dude.”

  He gave me a narrow-eyed look. "If I get them out of here, alive and all, then I don't go, you know, down there?"

  I wondered how someone so tough and mean could have such a weak spot in him.

  "Depends," I said. I looked him up and down. "You have any spare clothes?"

  Thirty-Nine

  The goon’s shirt and pants were three sizes too big for me. They also smelled like gun oil. Which made sense since they had been wrapped around his spare plasma pistol. I fashioned a belt out of strips of the coveralls and cinched it up. The tiny cabin the goon had taken me to had a mattress on the metal floor and a black duffle bag filled with his meager possessions. And, of course, a dim, blue overhead light.

  The goon gave me a funny look.

  “What?” I said.

  He shook his head. “I’ve been thinking of retiring anyway.”

  I didn’t know what to say to that, so I let it pass. The other plasma pistol weighed heavy in my hand. The goon gave me a quick tutorial on how to use it. He was reluctant to hand it over, but I had insisted. He repeatedly showed me where the safety was and pointed out what it looked like in locked position.

  “I got it, okay? Let’s get this over with, so I can go on to my eternal rest and such,” I said.

  He gave me another funny look. “You promise you won’t shoot me in the back, right?”

  “I promise.”

  I waved the gun at him in a move along gesture. He flinched, but went to the door. He turned to me, brows knotted. He bit his lip.

  “Can anyone see you but me?” he asked.

  “Dude, I’m wearing your clothes,” I said, “I’m a walking corpse. Of course everyone can see me.”

  He nibbled at his lip some more. “Okay, I guess that’s not bad. They won’t think I’m crazy,” he said, “You’ll need to stay out of sight until I give the word, okay?”

  “Yeah, yeah, let’s go.”

  I wanted him to get a move on before he figured out I wasn’t really a corpse come back to haunt him. I didn’t know how deep his superstition went. It felt like I was already pushing my luck.

  He opened the door, exited, then strode down the corridor. I waited a moment and followed.

  “Is this Bey Jodo’s ship?” I asked.

  The goon nodded. “He’s nervous. The Stickmen have the planet blockaded. The ship is stealthed, but he says if the Stickmen do a close scan of the area, they’ll find it.”

  “What is this thing he’s looking for?”

  "The whats-it we stole from the base," he gave me a narrow-eyed look, "Then you stole from us. Where did you hide it by the way?"

  I quirked an eyebrow at him. “It’s safe.”

  “Come on, man, give me something,” the goon said, “Bey Jodo is going to be pissed when Kincaid escapes. Julie’s going to be muy pissed. If you know what I mean."

  Unfortunately, I did. I remember once we'd been at a restaurant. The waitress got her order wrong not once, but twice. The second time the wrong dish came out, Julie went medieval on the poor woman. Gave her an ear-blistering dress down that got us kicked out of the restaurant.

  Later, I went back and apologized to the manager. He told me I was welcome to come back anytime.

  Without Julie.

  I sighed. “Yeah, I know,” I said, “Hey, just for the record, do you and Julie have something going on?”

  He grinned at me. I saw a flash of the old, wolfish goon. “Yeah. She’s my wife.”

  I stumbled to a stop. A feather could have knocked me over right then. The plasma gun twitched in my hand. I wasn’t sure who I wanted to shoot more, the goon or his wife, Julie.

  “You do know I’ve been having sex with her, right?” I asked.

  He rolled his eyes. “Don’t worry about it,” he said, “It’s not like you were doing her well.”

  If the plasma gun’s safety hadn’t been on, I would have shot him.

  What happened to the pacifist me? The guy who picked up spiders on a piece of paper and gently put them outside. The naive guy who thought Dr. Kincaid wouldn’t do any weapons research because, well, he said so.

  It’s amazing how one’s frame of mind changes when people start actively trying to kill oneself.

  The goon stopped at another door. “They’re in here. Julie and me were going to start interrogating the girls after she got done with Bey Jodo.”

  “Wha
t’s she doing with Bey Jodo?” I asked.

  He wiggled his eyebrows and made a thrusting motion with his hips. “You know.”

  I wanted to vomit.

  “How is that even possible?” I asked.

  He shrugged. “Don’t know, but Julie figured it out,” he said, “It’s a good thing, too. Keeps him calmed down. And he needs a lot of calming.”

  I shook my head. "I don't want to know anymore," I said, "Let's get this done."

  He squinted at me. “Your face is sure red for a corpse. Are you sure you’re dead?”

  “You think you missed?” I asked, “You think I was faking it? You want to go ask the dark one what happened?”

  His face paled. “Just wondering, dude,” he said.

  He hit a pad beside the door. It hissed open. Liz punched him the nose. Aiming lower, Amber got a solid kick to his crotch. He tumbled back. Slammed into the wall. Blood poured from his nose.

  “Take that, asshole!” Liz shouted.

  She leapt out into the corridor and kicked him in the stomach.

  Amber followed her out. She noticed me.

  “Hey, aren’t you dead?” she asked.

  Liz’s head whipped around. “Holy crap! He’s a zombie now!” She yanked the plasma blaster out of the goon’s hand. “Kill him!”

  She swung the gun up at me.

  “Wait,” I said.

  She pulled the trigger. Her aim was good. The blast caught me full in the chest.

  Searing pain.

  Darkness.

  Blah, blah, blah....

  Forty

  I was tall, dark and handsome again. My long, slender fingers flew over the controls of my starship. I glanced over at my golden warrior. She had donned her armor again, helmet still retracted. She worked the fire controls. The bridge of my starship enclosed us. The sharp scent of our sweat cut through the air.

  “How did they find us?” my golden warrior asked.

  A blast rocked the ship. Klaxons sounded. I watching warnings and damage reports scroll across the screen. The ship was the finest vessel our people had ever built, but it couldn't withstand the assault of a full battle group.

  “The enemy has outthought us,” I said.

  I had hoped to find refuge on one of the neutral worlds. But, too late, I realized there were no neutrals anymore. Our empire had fallen. Our people chased to the ends of the galaxy. Exterminated.

  I looked at the tactical screen. Don ships came in fast. Formed a sphere around us. Another blast hit. The screen showed damage aft. They were trying to disable the engines.

  It showed they wanted me alive. Did they know what I carried?

  “There’s too many of them,” my warrior said, “We’re trapped. Unless...”

  Her eyes went to the locked control panel to the left of me. I hesitated. If I used it, then the Dons and SixUnion would know our greatest secret. They would hunt galaxy for us.

  But they were already doing that.

  I closed my eyes. I considered destroying the ship. Quickly dismissed the idea. What I carried could not be so easily destroyed. They would find it and given time, be able to decode it.

  No, I had to escape. I had to get us far away so we could regroup and rebuild. Eventually, our race would rule again, but it might take many lifetimes.

  I put my hand on the panel. It unlocked. The cover slid up, revealing the controls.

  I accessed the navigation system and searched. Found a marginally habitable planet in an obscure cluster. Far distant from the SixUnion center. I was glad for the secret surveys I had commissioned early in my reign.

  “Hurry,” my warrior said, “I can’t hold them off much longer.”

  The hull of the ship hummed and thumped as the pulse cannons fired at our attackers. I would have to take our weapons offline to activate the drive. It would only be for a few moments, but we would be completely vulnerable.

  I set coordinates in and put the drive into a ready state. I prepared to shut off the weapons systems.

  I looked to my warrior. Sweat shone on her skin as she worked the weapons control. She was so beautiful.

  “Weapons powering down,” I said, “Drive point in two...one...”

  An explosion ripped through the bridge.

  Forty-One

  “Holy fucking shit, look at that,” Kincaid said, “His tissue is regenerating.”

  I opened my eyes. Kincaid leaned over me. He poked my chest with his finger. He smelled like he really needed a shower.

  I blinked. It felt like I was moving. I could hear the rumble of a heavy engine. Over Kincaid’s sweaty body odor was the stink of diesel exhaust. The ceiling above me had metal struts, painted army green.

  “Hey, he’s awake,” Amber said. Her face appeared over mine. She smiled and rubbed my forehead. “Hi. How you feeling?”

  “Like someone shot me with a plasma blaster,” I said.

  “Sorry,” Liz called out, “I thought you were a zombie.”

  Dr. Kincaid kept poking my chest with his finger. My wound ached but wasn't painful. Still, it was annoying. I slapped his hand away.

  “Stop that,” I said.

  “This is fucking amazing,” he said, “I’d love to get some slices of this and analyze them with a micro scanner. Just think of the possibilities.”

  I sat up. Sudden dizziness made me want to lie back down. My stomach twisted with hunger. I thought of all those little robots inside of me, fixing things. Where were they getting the energy from? Were they using me for energy?

  “I need something to eat,” I said.

  “You and your fucking stomach,” Kincaid said, “Don’t you ever think of anything else?”

  I grabbed his shirt, pulling his face close. “Sometimes I think about wrapping my fingers around your throat and squeezing hard.”

  Kincaid’s eyes went wide. He tried to pull away.

  “Yeah, now you’ve got it, dude,” the goon said.

  I turned my head. He was tied to the seat behind me, a giant grin on his face.

  “Why did you bring him along?” I asked.

  “We didn’t want to kill him,” Liz said.

  I put my hand to my head. “But you killed me.”

  “That’s different. I thought you were a zombie,” she replied.

  “You were dead,” Amber said, “You had this big, smoking black hole in your chest.”

  “You could have checked for a pulse,” I said.

  “Your fucking heart was crispy bacon bits,” Kincaid said, “Why the fuck would we bother checking for a pulse?”

  “For sure, dude,” the goon said “I totally killed you. Then that chick killed you again. That was awesome.”

  I shook my head. “Okay, fine, where are we? How did you guys escape?”

  “Your buddy back there helped us,” Liz said.

  The goon? I looked back at him. He shrugged. “I told you I’d help them escape. Not that it’s going to do you any good. The Don is going to send Julie after you. And she’s going to be pissed. Bey Jodo’s been promising to set her up with the good stuff. Bet this will put him over the edge.”

  It was my turn to roll my eyes. Apparently, I was now unkillable, so I really didn't care how pissed off she got.

  “So where are we going?” I asked.

  “Back to the base,” Kincaid said.

  “What!” I sat bolt upright. A wave of dizziness washed over me. I had to hold on to the seat and wait for it to pass. “We can’t go back there. Mattany wants to kill me.”

  “Dude, you’re already dead,” the goon said, “Why worry?”

  He did have a point. However, I didn’t to let Mattany test the limits of how many ways I could be killed. I had a suspicion there were limits to my newfound regenerative powers.

  Mattany would want the alien object back. Given the opportunity, he would take me apart piece by piece to do so.

  But there was something else. I had an idea what the device was now. What it contained. The Stickman was right. It was worth all of m
y world and then some. All the juicy, weaponized secrets of a super advanced, extinct alien race.

  “We can’t go to the base,” I said.

  “The fuck you say,” Kincaid said, “The base is the only place we’ll be safe.”

  “Yeah, you were sure safe there, eh doc?” the goon said.

  “I don’t like military bases,” Liz said.

  “Where should we go, then?” Amber asked.

  Unfortunately, I didn't have an answer for that. What I possessed (or what possessed me) was lusted after by every civilized spacefaring race in the galaxy. If only one of them got it, it could set off a civil war that could engulf the galaxy.

  I had a sudden vision of planets, their surfaces scorched of all life. A breakdown of civilization as wars continued for centuries. For millennia.

  It hit me like a blast of cold water. This wasn’t a vision of the future. It was a view of the past.

  I grabbed Kincaid’s arm. “Your quantum lattice theories. What are they really for?”

  He gave me a searching look. “That’s fucking classified,” he said.

  I slapped him. His eyes nearly popped out of his head. My fingers stung. A red imprint of my hand rose of his cheek.

  “Tell me,” I said, “This isn’t this time for games.”

  He rubbed his cheek. There was no sound in the vehicle but the rumble of the engine and the tires on the road.

  “Star drive,” Kincaid said, “My formulas tell us that there is a way around Einstein. Faster than light drive. We could travel the stars in days instead of thousands of years.”

  “You’re working on it at Mattany’s secret base?” I asked.

  “Yeah,” Kincaid said.

  I let go of him and flopped back on my seat. Star drive.

  “None of the other aliens have this kind of drive, do they?”

  Kincaid shook his head. “Not like this,” he said, “They have a kind of near light drive that uses quantum tunneling, but nothing like what I’m developing.”

  “You weren’t the first to discover it,” I said, “And I bet you haven’t got a working drive yet, do you?”