Max and the Multiverse, #1

by Zachry Wheeler

“Say again, freighter vess—” the static voice said, only to be interrupted by another barrage of hisses and screeches.

  Ross motioned to kill the transmission, to which Zoey complied.

  Both ships floated in the emptiness of space, facing each other, the Ripper locked for combat, the freighter a helpless target. Zoey, Perra, and Max held their collective breath, their eyes fixated on the pulsing arms of the Ripper. Ross munched away on his dwindling piece of fruit, as if to shun the imminent doom altogether. Then silence. The targeting siren ceased, leaving them to the comforting hum of the main engines. The pulsing red glow of the Ripper’s readied arsenal faded to black. Its tendrils retracted as the vessel disengaged and faced the way it came. With a burst of white light, it leapt away from the immediate area and sped towards Hollow Hold.

  All non-felines emptied their lungs of pent-up air. Perra plunked her forehead onto the console, resulting in a few blips of system errors. Zoey fell backwards into her chair and sank into the cushions with a newfound limpness. Ross watched with a near disinterest as the red glow of the Ripper faded into the distance. Max, still frozen in fear, turned his dried-out eyes to Ross.

  “What the fucking fuck was that?!” Max said.

  “That”—Ross tossed a nod to the viewport—“was me saving your arses.”

  Max’s face twisted into an array of colorful expressions, none of which conveyed an understanding.

  Ross patted Max’s shoulder. “Careful now, don’t hurt yourself.”

  “He’s right,” Zoey said, still lying across her chair like a crime scene victim. “He did save us. I, on the other hand, would have killed us all.” Zoey took a deep breath and resumed a reasonable sitting position. “Like he said, they’re looking for us. And in a place like this, things like training and caution stick out.”

  “Hence the batshit crazy display of complete and total stupidity,” Ross said as he dropped the fruit core into a nearby incinerator bin.

  “Smart,” Zoey said, extending an open hand to Ross. “Very, very smart.”

  Ross grinned and grasped her hand. “Thanks.” He lifted his gaze to the viewport and chuckled. “Oh to have been a fly on the wall in that Ripper cockpit.”

  * * *

  The minion Ripper returned to Hollow Hold’s upper orbit where Jai floated in the black. He eyed the ship with a dubious stare as it slowed into position, cueing the crackling static of a hologram transmission. The minion’s bust pieced itself together in front of the viewport.

  “Negative, Master Jai,” the glowing minion said.

  “Are you certain?” Jai said in a low, skeptical tone.

  “Yes, Master. Same ship class, but different plating and components. They targeted me with an ionic blaster, but soon remedied their mistake.” The minion snorted. “No advanced weaponry, no radiation signature. Just a drifter ship with a savage crew, most likely a thieving cohort, illegal salvage at best.”

  Jai maintained his unimpressed stare as he plunked a meaty hand upon the console, killing the transmission. The minion Ripper dropped from view and continued its methodical survey of planetary traffic. Jai sighed and turned his attention to a snack pack.

  CHAPTER 13

  Max and Ross stood in silence over the shoulders of Zoey and Perra as they guided the tiny freighter through an ocean of erratic traffic. Perra gnawed on her lower lip while adjusting the beacon output of a disguised presence. Zoey maintained a composed stare as she maneuvered the vessel around lumbering cruisers and patchwork fighters, trying to avoid any unwanted attention. The boxy ship seemed right at home among its battered brethren. An ashen cloud of tarnished hulls littered Hollow Hold’s orbit, forming a conglomerate of shoddy repairs and battle scars; mere trash to the untrained eye, but a thriving cohort to the local population.

  Hunks of twisted metal floated by the viewport, pulling Max’s dangling chin along with them. “Are you sure none of these are looking to pick a fight?”

  “I’m pretty sure most of them are looking to pick a fight,” Zoey said.

  “So, we’re not safe after Ross’s confrontation?”

  “You can pretty much drop safe from your vocabulary at this point. He bought us an entrance pass and nothing more. Any one of these bastards could attack us at any time for any reason. Our best chance for survival is to not give them a reason.” Her matter-of-fact words struck Max as somewhat comforting. “Speaking of which,” she said, turning to Perra, “we need to load up some language.”

  Perra nodded and reached into a side compartment, retrieving the cylindrical language infuser. “Let’s see what we got.” She consulted the control panel for local dialects, then huffed and slumped in her seat. “Well then, only 3,384 unique languages are spoken in this system, not counting idioms.”

  Zoey raised an eyebrow. “Seriously?”

  “Yes, unfortunately. We have to remember that every inhabitant here is some form of immigrant. And on top of that, the languages tend to blend. We can’t exactly infuse ourselves with local nuance, so we are going to sound like newcomers no matter what.”

  Zoey sighed. “Fine. I guess we'll just have to wing it. Let’s keep it simple and load up the majors.”

  “Agreed.” Perra entered some filtering commands and studied the results. “I think we can get away with the top eight. From there it’s a sharp decline in usage. The bottom 1,500 languages are spoken by less than five beings per.”

  “Eight it is then.” Zoey turned her attention to Max and Ross while Perra loaded the infuser. “We will continue to speak English among ourselves. It’s highly unlikely that anyone here will be able to eavesdrop on an Earth-tongue conversation.”

  “Well, considering I only speak English, that will be—” Max said before Perra thrust the infuser at him.

  “Put this to your temple and press the red button,” she said like an impatient mother.

  Max grasped the metal cylinder with a reluctant hand. Flipping it into an open palm, he studied the foreign object with the curiosity of an awestruck toddler. He rolled the device back and forth and poked at it with his fingertips.

  “Oh for pity’s sake,” Perra said and snatched the device from his hand. She stood from her chair, cupped his cheek, and planted the business end of the cylinder to his temple. Her annoyed face kept him from panicking as she pressed the red button, sending a jolt of data into his brain. Max’s eyelids twitched as if contacts had rolled up into his sockets. After a few unsettling moments, he expelled a cache of air and turned a solemn gaze to Ross.

  “I know Kung Fu,” Max said in his best Neo voice.

  “Ha, nicely done,” Ross said.

  They bumped fists like cocky jocks.

  “Now say it in Bunt’a Ley.”

  “Ark con yem Kung Fu,” Max said, stretching his face into a toothy smile.

  “Wait,” Perra said and glared up at Ross. “You already know Bunt’a Ley?”

  “Yup. Kenny hooked me up. I got all of Virgo’s greatest hits. I can even speak a rare dialect of sentient salamander.” Ross gurgled with the throaty chant of a randy toad.

  “That’s quite enough,” Zoey said, trying to focus on her approach.

  Ross cleared his throat and smirked at Perra. She let out a polite snicker before raising the infuser to her own head and shooting a bundle of languages into her cranium. After a brief shiver, she passed the infuser to Zoey, who repeated the process and tossed it back to Perra.

  The curve of Hollow Hold’s rusty horizon filled the viewport as the group looked on with a nervous fascination. Streaks of light pierced the hazy green bubble as ships entered and exited the atmosphere. The control panel pinged and backlit itself with a pleasant shade of blue, signaling the encroaching barrier. Zoey pitched the nose of the freighter upward in preparation for an onslaught of turbulence. An eruption of creaks and clanks bounced around the interior as the vessel rumbled with entry. Max and Ross grasped the thick metal bars above their heads for balance. A bright orange glow enveloped the hull, spilling violent flames over
the viewport. Zoey unclenched a hand from the yoke to input some stabilization commands.

  “We’ll be out of this in a few ticks,” she said in a loud, vibrating voice. “The atmosphere here is pretty thin.”

  A few ticks later, the turbulence ceased, leaving them to the dull hum of the main engines. The orange glow of entry dissipated from the viewport, replaced by the grayish-green hue of a strange new atmosphere. Dark nimbus clouds reflected the red glow of the dwarf star hanging in the sky. Long columns of precipitation evaporated before reaching an endless sea of cavern entrances. Boundless stretches of razor-edged mountains snaked their way across the harsh landscape, serving as geological divides between shadowy caves. Glistening lakes of algae-laden water peppered the terrain, absorbing starlight into their red-green surfaces. All four newcomers drank the contrasted landscape through boggled eyes.

  Perra broke the silence with a gasp of stupefaction. “For such a perilous place, it’s actually quite beautif—”

  Screams filled the cabin as a giant wall of metal sped past the viewport, ending in the fiery blaze of four massive engines. A thunderous wake engulfed the ship and jumbled the cargo bay, not that it mattered. Zoey and Perra jostled in their seats while Ross clung to the overhead bars for dear life. The sudden jolt knocked Max to the floor. His flailing hand nabbed one of Zoey’s seat straps, preventing him from tumbling down the corridor. The rumbles stopped with an abrupt silence, allowing the screaming to follow suit. Zoey loosened her death grip on the yoke in order to stabilize the vessel. Perra gasped for breath with both hands atop her chest. Ross retracted his claws and dropped himself to the floor. After a grumble of irritation, he started pawing his poofed fur back into place. Max struggled to his feet while rubbing an aching neck.

  “Everyone okay?” Zoey said.

  Perra nodded and took a deep breath.

  “Six lives left,” Ross said.

  “I may need a change of underwear,” Max said. “But otherwise okay.”

  “Good,” Zoey said. “Let’s pick a cave and get out of this crazy sky.”

  “What about that one?” Perra said, pointing to a colossal cave entrance up towards the horizon. “Lots of steady traffic, probably a main port. Might be a good place to dock and look around.”

  “Works for me,” Zoey said. “The sooner we’re on the ground, the better.”

  Zoey slid an open palm up the control panel, igniting the main engines into full thrust. The freighter kicked forward and sped towards the distant cave entrance. Zoey’s steady hands guided the tiny ship over mountain passes, careful not to venture over the open mouths of caves. Perra scanned the darkened depths with an astute gaze, studying their alloy skeletons and various docking patterns. An endless variety of dim lights speckled the interiors. Some formed obvious shapes, like the outlines of landing pads. Others appeared random at best, forming mysterious factions along the stony faces. Some even moved, as if giving chase like a dog to a passing car. Mangled bodies of metal lifted from the shadows and departed for parts unknown. Others sank into their respective abysses, bound for secret havens.

  Cresting a final mountain peak, the ship found itself floating above a vast blackened sea accented by countless dots of light. Still cruising at an elevated speed, the tiny freighter seemed to hang motionless over the gargantuan cave mouth. Vessels of all shapes and sizes darted in every direction with no perceivable traffic pattern, like bees swarming around a hive. Zoey swiped her palm across the control panel, reducing speed and beginning a slow descent. A sinister shadow consumed the freighter as the waning sun disappeared behind a distant cave rim. Perra powered the external lights while Zoey steadied the hull thrusters. As their eyes adjusted to the dim light, a spiderweb of metal emerged. An enormous skeleton of steel pipes and girders twisted around each other and drove themselves into the jagged rock face. Grated walkways snaked around the mangled support structure and disappeared into pedestrian tunnels. Bright neon signs denoted various forms of business from bars and eats to goods and repairs.

  An assortment of landing pads and docking stations jutted out from the internal framing. A complete lack of any meaningful regulation meant that some docks appeared safer than others. After descending several kilometers into the planet’s interior, Perra spotted an empty landing pad devoid of any questionable construction. Zoey maneuvered the craft into position, engaging its three landing claws. The ship came to a rest upon the platform, resulting in a small thump of floor pressure. Zoey and Perra danced their fingers across the control panel, securing the ship and silencing the beacon. They unbuckled their harnesses as the main engines spun down.

  Zoey tromped her way to the cargo bay, compelling Max and Ross to follow. She unlatched a cargo crate and sifted through its contents. Perra emerged from the cockpit and hooked her hand on a ratty cargo net. Zoey tossed a wad of fabric to each member. They unfolded grimy leather cloaks, complete with hoods, face wraps, and tarnished latches.

  “Put those on,” she said while slipping into her own.

  The group complied without question.

  Zoey hooked a final clasp and rolled her shoulders to loosen the fabric. “We have to assume that the Veiled Trader network knows who we are. Several are known to occupy Hollow Hold, so stay vigilant. Do not engage unless you have to. We keep our faces and colors hidden, enough to look threatening, but not overly suspicious. Group dress is not uncommon here as it denotes packs and sects, so our similarities shouldn’t raise any eyebrows.”

  “What if we get separated?” Max said as he tightened a waist latch.

  Zoey thought for a moment. “I would highly advise not getting separated.”

  Max turned to Ross, who shrugged in response.

  Zoey unlatched a wall locker and retrieved two plasma pistols. She handed one to Perra and clipped the other to a belt underneath her cloak. Perra repeated the process. Max caught a glimpse of the weapons before they disappeared beneath leather flaps. Their stout and smoky bodies hung with the obvious weight of dense metal, much more robust than the compact versions he stared down on Europa.

  “Nothing for us?” Max said, using the pitiful voice of a shunned child.

  Zoey glared at Max. “I am not about to put a military-grade plasma weapon into the hands of an Earthling. I value my life and intend to keep it.”

  “Just stick close to us,” Perra said, patting Max on the shoulder.

  He glanced over to Ross for sympathy.

  Ross lifted his furry hands, flexed talon-like claws from the tips, winked, then retracted them.

  “Great,” Max said, tossing his hood over his head. “Just a squishy, unarmed human on a planet full of intergalactic thugs. This should go well.”

  A few metallic thunks echoed from the airlock, followed by a mishmash of unintelligible grumbles. Zoey raised a fist into the air, silencing the room. Her eyes darted around the cargo bay, making sure that everyone and everything looked the part. She approached the airlock and paused to address the group with a lowered voice.

  “Nobody says a damn word. Let me do the talking.”

  The group nodded as another round of thunks infected the room, this time a bit harsher in tone. Muted grumbles elevated to impatient bellows. Zoey tapped an adjacent wall panel, revealing a large, bulbous figure standing outside.

  “He’s alone. Don’t do anything rash unless I do it first.” Zoey armed the plasma pistol under her cloak, took a deep breath, then tapped the lower corner of the panel, opening the airlock.

  She met eyes with a plump and perturbed creature that resembled a humanoid walrus. Tattered fabric stretched across rolls of exposed blubber. Roped suspenders and a thick leather belt struggled to hoist a pair of baggy brown pants. A pair of tusks protruded from a set of beefy jowls, one broken, and the other ground to a nub. Yellow eyes bulged atop a bed of scruffy whiskers. Beads of flop sweat rolled down a splotchy bald scalp. Zoey’s puckered expression conveyed a combination of nasal and visual shock.

  “Ye best have a capital reason for dropp
ing yer vessel onto my flat,” the bipedal walrus said.

  His graveled voice sounded an awful lot like an Earth pirate caricature, causing Max to snort with amusement. The walrus shot him a death stare. Max used the opportunity to study the ceiling.

  “Hey,” Zoey said, snapping her fingers in front of the chubby face. “You talk to me. I’m the captain of this ship.”

  “Ship?” the walrus said, taking a laborious step inside. “You call this filthy coffin a ship?” His bloodshot eyes gave a quick scan of the cargo bay. “Looks more like a squatter box with meat warmers strapped to the back.”

  Zoey quashed Perra’s obvious offense with a subtle hand gesture. Max continued his intimate study of the ceiling as the bumbling visitor lobbed skeptical gazes at each member of the crew. Ross winked at the smelly guest, resulting in a huff of indifference that sent ripples down rows of neck fat.

  “You say this is your landing pad?” Zoey said, regaining his attention.

  “Aye,” the walrus said before spitting on the floor. “This be mine. And it comes with a usage fee.”

  “How much?”

  The walrus stepped forward, causing the metal floor to whine beneath his feet. A drop of his unkempt chin brought him face-to-face with Zoey. “1,000 credits, per day.”

  Zoey smirked, then reached over and tapped the wall panel, closing the airlock. The walrus’s eyes shifted from side to side in their sunken sockets. Zoey’s gaze hardened, drawing a gulp from the uninvited visitor.

  “How stupid do you think I am?” Zoey said, then drove the heel of her boot into the side of his knee.

  The walrus yelped and began to fall. Zoey hooked his shoulder and slammed his back into the metal floor. A rush of air fled his lungs as a wave of impact echoed through the cargo bay. She drove a knee into his chest, unlatched her plasma pistol, and jammed the barrel underneath his chin.

  “So that’s your play? New ship comes to port and you shake them down for easy credits?”

  He whimpered beneath a quivering chin.