Rick Carter's First Big Adventure (Pete's Barbecue Book 1)

by Samuel Belcher

  “That’s enough C-4 and gas to light up the Pacific up there Pete.” Dennis said concerned.

  “I know.” Pete readily admitted. “Enough to stop a whole lot of termites.”

  “If the floor above our level doesn’t hold it’s going to take us out, too.” Dennis said with obvious inflection.

  “Nah, ole man. De floor dey diggin’ tru is weakened now. De floor above us is solid.” Pete said, waiting for the SEAL to remember the basics of detonations and force movements.

  Dennis slowly shook his head. “Mmmm. You’re hoping it’ll go up and out and not down.” He remarked.

  “Dats right. Hopin’.” Pete admitted, and he began to climb down again. They needed to get back to the control room and prepare.

  Mel looked around in panic. The main control room was cluttered with enough banks of switches, dials, lights and buttons that it looked like something that NASA threw out because it was too complicated to function. He really had no idea which one turned the shield on. And, in truth he wasn’t all that anxious to cut it on, even though he knew it had to be done.

  “Really?” He said frustrated. “Is it really necessary to operate a loony bin with this much tech?” He looked from side to side. “Where’s the freakin’ one for the shield? Look around.” He said.

  Rick didn’t move. “You have to explain to me first what it is you’re trying to do,” Rick said, his arms crossed defiantly, the M4 hanging by its strap on his left shoulder.

  Mel looked over at Roger, who was looking at the rows of lights amusingly. “Rick, I don’t have time to explain. There’s only one way to stop all this. Me and Daniel tracked it back to one event.” He said, omitting the conversation he had with the weird faceless voice in the concrete cell on the way.

  “In 1968, I know,” Rick interrupted.

  Mel’s eyes narrowed. “Okay, what do you know about 1968? I mean other then what Pete and I told you?”

  Rick shrugged. “More than what I really wanted to know. Why the shield, Mel?”

  Mel looked frustrated. “You’re going to make me explain this aren’t you?”

  “That’s the idea.” Rick’s arms tightened across his chest.

  “Do you remember what I told you would happen if my Prime Sphere and this sphere ever came into contact?” Mel pointedly asked.

  “Yeah?” Rick looked more concerned as it started to dawn on him what Mel’s plan was.

  “Well, my friend, it’s time for that to happen,” Mel said, his tone as serious as it had ever been.

  Rick stood stunned. He couldn’t believe what he was hearing. That sounded like suicide. He never thought Mel intended to commit suicide. Wait a minute. Is it suicide if you’re two people split from one? He quickly dismissed that macabre line of thought. “Mel, I….” He started but was interrupted by the sound of a distant explosion, a very deep rolling thunderous sound that made the hair stand up on the back of his neck. Moments later it was followed by the walls and ceiling shaking. When it was over Rick was shaken out of his train of thought. “What the crap was that?”

  Mel looked around, “That was probably Pete blowing up the Honey Pot.” He said nonchalantly.

  Rick looked at him wide eyed. “What the hell? He blew himself up?”

  “Not likely.” Mel chuckled. “But, I’d say there’s a lot less bugs to worry about now. Don’t count Pete out that easy.” He ran his hand down one of the banks of computers scanning for something that looked familiar.

  “Well, that’s good, right?” Rick’s expression brightened. “It’s over now. We can leave, right?”

  Mel sighed. “’Fraid not, old friend. That’s not going to stop this. They won’t stop till they have that reactor.”

  “You know about the reactor?” Rick seemed surprised.

  “I know about it. I also know about Campbell. Don’t ask me how. I don’t have time to explain. We, Roger and I, have to do this. We’ve got to undo this stream. If you understand what 1968 means too, then you know that point can’t be undone. We have to end it here. It’s the only way.” Mel tried to emphasize.

  Rick stumbled trying to find the words that would stop Mel. “I thought you said that in order to fix a tear you had to start at the beginning?” He just couldn’t imagine that it would end this way, that there was no other way.

  Mel looked at him sympathetically. “This tear isn’t a normal one, Rick. You know that now. It was orchestrated, made to happen. We can’t undo the original event. But we can stop the rest of our world from unraveling now.”

  Rick felt backed into a corner. “So you think suicide is the right way to go?!” He pleaded.

  “Suicide? Who said anything about suicide?” Mel looked stunned.

  Rick was confused. “But, I thought you said the two spheres would cause you to cancel each other out?”

  “I did and it will. But, I’ve been working on a theory for some time now. It’s time to find out if it works.” Mel said.

  “Theory?” Rick shook his head, still confused. “I wish you would fill in the rest of us with this kind of stuff, Mel.”

  Mel smiled. “Now where would the fun be in that?” He looked down at his wrist and started to enter something into his REAL-Pro. When he was done he quickly looked back up at Rick. “Now, where’s that REAL-Pro Ball gave you?”

  “You mean the one Pete gave me?” Rick shoved his hand into his pocket.

  “Whatever. Let me have it.” Mel held his hand out.

  Rick reluctantly dug the device out of his pocket and handed it over. “I don’t understand what you’re doing, Mel.”

  “Well, to be honest, neither do I.” He said while he entered the same data into the other device. When he was done he shouted over to Roger, who was happily examining the dials and switches on the opposite wall. “Rog!”

  Roger turned just in time to catch the REAL-Pro as Mel threw it over at him. He looked at it amused.

  “Seriously, Mel. What are you doing? Are you going to port somewhere?” Rick asked.

  Mel stared his old friend in the eyes. “No, not really. There’s no port window here, Rick. “

  “Then what?” Rick was emphatic.

  “I have this idea about shield displacement and port harmonics. I mean it revolves around the REAL-Pro and the request frequency it uses to summon an active port. But, to make a long story short I think it could be our anchor.” Mel rapidly blurted out.

  Rick sighed. “Uh, huh. We’re not all astrophysicists here, Mel.”

  “It’s either going to help us or not.” Mel simply put.

  “And if it’s ‘not’?” Rick asked.

  Mel narrowed his eyes. “Then me and ole Rog’ll be nothing but a memory.” He reached out and patted Rick’s shoulder. “Don’t worry! It’ll work…or not.”

  “That’s not comforting, Mel.” Rick shot him an angry look.

  Mel frowned. “You think I want to do this? This is the only way I now to fix it. I should know. It’s what I do, remember?” Mel tried to sound reassuring. “You wanted to know once about me and the Company’s policy about disappearing people? Remember? Truth is I never really did that before. I never made anyone nonexistent to protect the streams. But, now, here in this crap, I see why it might need to be done.”

  “What are the odds here, Mel?” Rick asked. “You don’t sound very confident.”

  “Let us do what we have to do, Rick.” Mel urged him.

  “That harmonics stuff was bullcrap wasn’t it? This is suicide.” Rick instinctively put one hand on the strap of the M4.

  Mel smiled sheepishly. “Not entirely. There’s a chance I’m right.”

  Rick suddenly raised the AR at Mel in a vain attempt to make a firm interdiction. “There is no way I’m gonna let you do this. There has to be another way.”

  Roger had wondered over to the corner where a smaller upright panel of lights and switches stood by itself. He reached his cupped hand over on to the console on his left and opened his fingers. The cockroach walked out of his palm and ont
o the console. While Rick and Mel argued in the other corner, he leaned over and spoke softly to the cockroach. “Ok, Rufus, you’re sure?” The cockroach stayed in place, its head and antenna flickering back and forth. Roger asked another question “Well, how do you activate it? There’s a lot of pretty lights and buttons here. What?” He leaned in closer. “Ah, ok,” he said. And he flicked the red button on first. Then he located the white button and pressed it. “Now what?” he asked. The cockroach’s reply was inaudible to anyone else in the room. “Ok.” Roger looked over to where Mel and Rick were still arguing, Rick still leveling his gun at Mel, who seemed not to notice it at all. “Uh, guys?” He yelled over to them. They continued arguing loudly with each other so he said it again, this time louder with more emphasis. “UM, GUYS!” They both suddenly stopped.

  “What?!” They both said at the same time, each turning toward him.

  “It’s the blue button,” Roger said, and he pushed it. The shield hummed to life, the power flowing in an instant. Mel looked back at Rick, his eyes wide in surprise, but he said nothing. The building seemed to pulse with power. Then all reality seemed to bend inward as a single fixed point warped everything around it. Rick fell backwards, his senses going crazy with the distortion. It looked a lot like what he had imagined the edge of a black hole to look like. The event horizon, where you stand on the edge of real space and watch light and everything else bend inwards toward that black cavernous point. He felt himself starting to black out. But, in the instant before darkness took him, he had the strange impulse to take off his XLT. It was like a voice deep outside of reality was urging him to do it quickly. He didn’t know why, but he didn’t question it either. By the time he finally blacked out, he wasn’t sure if he had managed to get it off and throw it into the hole. All he could hear was a strange and muffled sound of someone saying “Goodbye.

  CHAPTER S EVENTEEN

  Pieces and Parts

  Or

  Putting Humpty Dumpty Back Together Again.

  Rick sat in his cab, his butt aching and wondering if he should go to Taco Bell. This time of the night in Tampa there weren’t a whole lot of choices besides fast food. And most of those didn’t seem to appeal to him very much.

  He was sitting in his new white Crown Victoria, provided without comment by the cab company in a hurried rush to make things appear normal again, in so far as they understood normal. He was sitting alone in the quiet of the empty mall parking lot. His mind was racing with a hundred thoughts, but his body was tired, real tired. The first thing he had wanted to do when he got back was just crash for a long time. He wanted to fall onto his old comfortable bed and sleep for a month. But, alas, that was not to be. The next day, an unwanted knock came at his door at eight in the morning. Waiting there for him, all well dressed and refreshed was Management. He was needed back on the job. So much for the best-laid plans. The next night he was back to work. Not that there was any work to do. He had no fares for the first couple of nights. It was as though they were ignoring him. But, oddly every morning when he checked his account five grand had been deposited. He didn’t argue. He could sit alone, surf the web and watch movies for five grand a night. No problem.

  This night, his third back, he was getting hungry. He thought about that great barbecue at Pete’s and how much he would like to have some ribs about now. Pete, he thought, I wonder how he’s doing. I wonder if he got a new robot wife yet? I hope the new one’s got more personality than the old one.

  He hit play on his new laptop and waited for the movie to cue up. The light of the computer filled the cab and cast shadows in the back seat. Movies just hadn’t been the same for him since he got back. There just wasn’t anything that was going to come close to the experience he had just been through. They couldn’t make a movie for this, he thought. Well, maybe the Sci-Fi channel could, but he didn’t think anyone else could even come close. He thought about that for a moment. Who would be in the movie? Erik Estrada, definitely Erik Estrada. And Bruce Campbell. I have no idea who Bruce would play, but it just felt right having him there. Who would play his part? After a while of debating, he lost interest in it, and he watched the screen absent-mindedly. It was just something to occupy his time. He looked over at the cockroach sitting peacefully on his dashboard. “Whatta ya think, Rufus? Taco Bell or Wendys?” He didn’t know why he bothered to ask him. Rufus always wanted Taco Bell

  One of the strangest things he had to deal with at first was the fact that he remembered it all. Every detail of it was just as vivid as if it had happened yesterday, which, it had. But, in addition to that, he could remember new things as well. When reality snapped back, compensation had to be made for some of the things that had occurred. Because of this he could remember both growing up with Roger and Mel and not having them around at all. That duality of things was going to take some getting used to. Pete had tried to explain it to him. Although the problem that had created the two of them in the first place could not be altered, their continuing existence could. The fact that he had two memories of them seemed to suggest that maybe Mel’s theory was wrong. They were gone, both of them. Rick didn’t know what this meant for those who had been involved with Mel and Roger over the years. But, by dent of reason that had to mean that Mel/Roger was stillborn somewhere, maybe as a whole person. Maybe he was still around, just different now and living somewhere completely oblivious to his prior life. If that were the case then maybe Rick would go hunting for him one day. Or maybe he would just leave well enough alone. He had all these questions and concerns floating around in his head. But, he couldn’t talk to anyone about it, except Rufus. The Managers had strictly forbidden him to say anything. During his debriefing, immediately after the event, he was given his instructions for his return to normal life. He couldn’t talk to anyone about it, anyone non-Company that is. No one else knew, except those who participated. Pete knew, Tormodis and Margaret knew, Mel and Roger…well. There just seemed to be something missing without Mel and Roger. He missed them. Sure, their very existence was tearing apart all of reality, but who doesn’t have an off day ever now and then? Even though he hadn’t seen either one of them for many years and they had only been together a short time, he felt like that old kinship had been rekindled. It was a shame they had to both be whipped out of existence.

  It had taken Rick a while to recover from the reality rebound. It was his first time experiencing it. It was something that would take a while for anyone to get used to. When reality snaps back into place around you and reorients itself into a normal flow, it throws off your A game for a while. Hence the fact that he wanted to sleep all the time. But, the Managers had told him that the best thing to do was get back on his feet and push ahead. And they had him back to work, sitting in a cab, watching movies.

  He fidgeted absentmindedly with the new XLT fastened to his right wrist. Getting used to wearing it all the time was something else he was to adjusting to. Apparently he had lost his old one when Mel and Roger disappeared. He couldn’t remember what he had done with it. And In his back pocket, tucked away in his wallet was a brand new company holo-card. He was a full-timer now. But, the Managers seemed unsure what else to do with him. They told him just to go back to the old job and wait. They would be in touch. So far, he hadn’t heard a peep, and he hadn’t picked up any special fares. At least the cab was a good cover job, something to keep him out in the world and available for work at the same time. Rufus agreed. He found himself listening to Rufus more and more. He had no idea what the Managers were going to do.

  He shifted in his seat a little to take the weight off of his sore butt. As he was relaxing and debating between Taco Bell and Wendy’s, the light on his radio blinked and he heard the dispatcher on the other end. “580?”

  Rick was a bit surprised, but he picked up the microphone and keyed it. “580, send it.”

  “Pickup at Holster and Vine to Willwood. You want it?” The voice said over the static.

  “Sure, got nothing else to do.” He responded.
Finally, he thought, something to do. The movie wasn’t all that exciting. He set the laptop over in the passenger seat and started the car. This Crown Victoria was slightly different from his old one. The engine sounded much louder and growled. It had a lot of power. He hit the gas and nearly exploded out of the parking lot.

  Holster and Vine wasn’t that far. And, if he remembered correctly Willwood was near a Taco Bell, so that argument was finally settled. He’d grab his fare, drop them off then hit the drive through. Maybe even get Rufus a Challupa all of his own. Game plan, he thought.

  He pulled up to the lone figure standing on the street corner at Holster and Vine. It was a businessman, dressed in an expensive long overcoat. He was standing in a puddle of water from the recent rain shower. He opened the back door and got in. Rick stayed put while he asked him the address on Willwood. 2783, he said. Rick started that way. The man sat silently in the back seat, so Rick employed his usual customer relations by trying to strike up a conversation. “So, some night, huh?”

  The man was looking at the scenery pass by in passenger’s window. “Yeah.” He mumbled.

  “Tired, huh? Long day?” He kept at it. It had always been Rick’s belief that cab drivers should be a lot like bartenders. They had to have an open ear if they wanted to succeed and make any money. Of course he didn’t need money anymore. But, it was hard to break old habits. And, he just liked talking to people.

  “Yeah, hard. I need a vacation.” The man said, even his voice was tired.

  “You and me both, bub,” Rick said, almost laughing. “I’d like to head south. Maybe South America. I always wanted to go to Rio.” He said, realizing that now he probably could. He had the technology to go there instantly.

  The man seemed confused at first. For several seconds, he didn’t say anything. “I’m sorry, what?”

  “I said I’d like to go to South America, Brazil, maybe Rio,” Rick repeated.

  Again the man remained silent for a few seconds as though he was trying to understand something very confusing. “What’s South America?”