Multiverse 1

by Chris Hechtl

  He huffed but knew better than to say anything. Besides, there was no place to go. Wildcat slept in a hammock in engineering, and Mowgli slept in the one small guest cabin with Bagheera on top of the crates in there. He didn't know how the cub could sleep on an air mattress, but he made it work. Bagheera frequently complained of a sore back after sleeping on the crates, but he insisted on sleeping up high. Something about his ancestry he would say. Baloo shook his head as he waddled to the counter for a quick bite to eat.

  <-----/^----->

  Baloo was with the cubs when they were bickering. Rebecca came out to referee, but she was biased. She realized she tended to favor Molly, even when Molly was clearly in the wrong. That was an issue she remembered from her studies; a crew couldn't afford someone who played favorites. It allowed resentment to build up. She paused as Baloo stepped up. “Here, here, what's this?” he demanded, as Molly cried, rubbing her tiny fists in her eyes. “What's going on you two?” he asked, ruffling Mowgli's black hair and then Molly's blond fur.

  “He won't let me put peanut butter on my sandwich!” the toddler said, sniffling. She put a lot of angst in that statement. She was precocious enough to like getting away with being the youngest but still wanted to be treated like an adult from time to time, which made for a delicate balance.

  She's hogging it all!” Mowgli said, throwing his hands up in the air. He pointed to the mess. Rebecca frowned, ready to jump in. After all, her little girl was just a baby.

  “Okay,” Baloo said, hefting the cub. “How about we do this, pumpkin; you put peanut butter on both sandwiches because you need the practice…”

  The little cub burbled. Mowgli rolled his eyes, throwing his hands up in the air. “But…” Baloo said. “But, Mowgli gets to choose which sandwich. Deal?” he asked. Both children nodded.

  With stern concentration and with her tiny tongue out a few times as she focused, Molly smothered one sandwich in peanut butter, then the other got a few dabs. Baloo took a bit off the one, but then when the little cub growled he backed off. She put the top plate on and then greedily reached for the packed one. It had nearly two centimeters of peanut butter easy.

  “Ah, no, now it's Mowgli's turn,” Baloo said, keeping a calm voice. He turned to the human cub. The boy took the one loaded with peanut butter, naturally. The girl pouted.

  “It's not fair!” she said.

  “Isn't it?” Baloo asked. “You got to put peanut butter on each sandwich, right?”

  “Uh huh,” she said, still making a face.

  “So, why did you put only a few dabs on yours?” Baloo asked, pulling her plate over. She scowled. “It's only fair to work together and share right?”

  “Like in the book?” Molly asked.

  “Like in the books, pumpkin. And real life. If we work together and make sure we all get a fair shake, we'll all be happy, right?”

  “I…” she sighed, shrugging as she reached for the sandwich. “I guess so,” she said in disgust. “But next time I get to pick!” she said.

  “And he'll get to put the peanut butter on,” Baloo agreed with a laugh.

  “Want some Becky?” he asked. He turned to Rebecca who had her arms crossed and was leaning against the wall. She smiled. He held the jar up and peered into it. “I think there is…a little more…” He tried to get it out with the butter knife. When that failed he tried with his muzzle and long tongue. She made a face, but Molly giggled when he pretended it was stuck. That got her mother over her annoyance. The giggle was infectious.

  Baloo hammed trying to get it off, but no luck. Finally he pointed to the jar and to Molly. Molly pointed to herself and then reached up. They tugged. Once she came off the counter, giggling hysterically. He got her back onto it, then she grabbed with her feet and pulled. The jar came off with a plop, and Baloo went down on his rear in a clatter of pots and pans.

  The cubs roared in laughter, slapping their knees and the counter.

  “You okay, Baloo?” Rebecca asked, voice dripping with her own laughter.

  “Oh,” he groaned, getting to his feet. “Nothing hurt but my pride,” he said, rubbing his sore rear.

  She snickered. “Serves you right,” she said. She went to the pantry and pulled out another jar of peanut butter.

  “Ugh,” he said, looking aggrieved. The cubs snickered. “What are you two looking at,” he mock grumbled, long tongue picking off peanut butter off his muzzle. It was sticky, so it took a lot of licking to get it all. That growl got them settled, pretending to eat. They exchanged humorous glances though, and the occasional snicker as they ate.

  About halfway through his sandwich, Mowgli gave it up. He pushed the plate away, rubbing his tummy. “Oh, my stomach,” he said.

  “Too much of a good thing?” Baloo asked. Mowgli nodded, hunched over. “See what greed gets you?” he asked, looking at Molly. Molly looked at the human in concern.

  “His belly hurts?” she asked.

  Mowgli nodded. “Too much peanut butter. I forgot,” he said.

  “Yeah, live and learn kid,” Baloo said, shaking his head.

  Rebecca snorted. “You knew this was going to happen,” she said as Mowgli got up and staggered to the latrine.

  “Which part? And yeah, I knew,” the bear admitted softly. “Sometimes, experience is the best teacher. You can read about it all you want, but…” She nodded.

  <-----/^----->

  It was a long week to get to the jump point. By the time they were there, a lot of their rough edges had worn down. She came to a grudging respect of the old bear. He definitely had a way with the cubs; he got along very well with Molly and Mowgli, playing and cuddling. Both younglings would sit in his lap and watch videos or read to him.

  Rebecca noted how Baloo jacked into the ship. The bear was a rarity; he had full implants. He seemed happy as he plugged in. She'd thought about getting implants, but the tech seemed so invasive, little return for all the risk. Now she wasn't so sure, Baloo had a blissed out look on his face as he piloted the ship through the slipstream of the lower bands into the upper ones. She was amazed when they passed the Beta wall; Bagheera hadn't been joking about that. The Beta wall had been brief though, but it shaved days off their journey. She made a note to take advantage of that later. Bagheera had mentioned that they couldn't stay in Beta long, but every moment there added to the hyperspace compression ratio, shortening the time involved.

  Unfortunately, they had to drop to sublight to run the Gauntlet. The Gauntlet was a cluster of stars that only an extraordinary pilot, or one just downright crazy tried to run in hyper. It was rumored that the only ones to successfully make it were dolphins. They equated it to an exhausting sleigh ride.

  In subspace though, it took a solid month to get through the gauntlet. Navigating around it was out; that took months of time in hyper, months for a freighter that needed to move freight as quickly as possible. But the Gauntlet was, even in the slower speeds of subspace.

  Three weeks of that time was in the center of the cluster, dodging through the asteroids between the systems at near relativistic speeds. It was scary, but Baloo's reaction times held. He strained a bit but managed to get them over the hump before he passed the stick to Bagheera.

  Bagheera immediately dropped their speed by half. It was a more sedate pace, one he could handle easier, with his feline reactions. Rebecca wanted to argue, but as she watched she realized the panther wasn't a natural pilot like Baloo. He was taking it at the speed he could handle and only just barely handle at that. Besides, their hop in Beta had made up for the loss in time Bagheera's dawdling was causing.

  Baloo scratched and then staggered to the head, did his business and then flopped into a lounge chair in the wardroom. She checked on him and tucked a blanket over his snoring frame. He put a hand paw over the blanket. She stared at it, then her own. His was barely human with long claws. Hers was almost totally human, with slightly longer claws and fur. She couldn't imagine how hard it was for him, for so many years going through life wi
th hands that were either too big or barely functioned. She checked his thumb. He had one; it did work but not well. He probably had incredible grip strength…she shook her head. She decided he needed a manicure. She'd get on him about it later.

  She turned and went back to the bridge cockpit. After hours of helping the panther, she realized, Baloo was it. It was just too stressful for her; she knew her strengths and limitations. Piloting was fine, as long as it was the straight and narrow course. But the Gauntlet…that was something else entirely, far beyond her nascent skills to handle. To Baloo, it was just rocks and radiation belts to twist and dance around. To her, it was life or death obstacles. She envied him.

  “We've got a blip. Two blips, make it three, now four,” Bagheera said, voice ratcheting up in alarm.

  “A convoy?” she asked with a sinking sensation.

  “I wish,” the panther muttered.

  “Go wake Baloo. We need him.”

  “Hopefully he hasn't pushed himself too far and into a coma again,” Bagheera muttered, getting up and moving through the hatch and into the main ship.

  Rebecca looked over her shoulder, biting her lip gently. “Oh Molly, what have I gotten us into,” she said worriedly, looking at the scope. She didn't like what she was seeing, not at all. “Baloo, if you can get us out of this, I'll…I'll kiss you,” she murmured.

  <-----/^----->

  When the pirates showed up, things got interesting. They were closing fast, about a million kilometers away and closing at ten thousand per minute. For once though they weren't interested in the Duck; they were chasing one of their own. A small fighter, little more than a space scooter with a massive engine, was bobbing and weaving at full afterburner ahead of the pack of fighters. That surprised Baloo and the crew. “What the devil's going on?” Rebecca demanded.

  “No idea, and I don't intend to stay around to find out,” a welcome voice said from behind her. “Up and out,” he growled, brushing her out of his seat. She looked at him. Baloo was fully alert, all business. For once the funny clown was a full-on professional. He put his hat on properly and sat at the controls, grim faced. That scared Rebecca; it told her just how much of a crack they were really in.

  “This is Kit Cloudkicker, can anyone read me? Please! You've gotta help me! They are chasing me! They said they are going to kill me like they did my mom and dad!” Baloo scowled at the voice over the emergency frequency. It was high pitched, scratchy, like a kid. Terrified, definitely scared, he thought. “I know you can hear me! Say something!” the boy said, sounding as if he was near tears. The kid was terrified on the radio. Rebecca was torn. She on the one hand wanted to help, but on the other she had a responsibility to her daughter and the crew.

  Baloo refused. “It could be a trap,” he muttered. He felt a tug on his leg. He looked down to see two tiny paws clutching the fur on his leg. “Not now ,Molly, can't you see I'm busy?” he said. He caught Molly's puppy eyes. Her bottom lip quivered. “He's all alone over there, Please don't let the bad men get him!” she said in a tiny voice. “Don't let him die, Mister Baloo,” she said.

  He reluctantly came about as her eyes filled with tears. “Oh hell,” he muttered. “Strap in!” he called, reaching up to the overhead controls. Hastily Rebecca gathered her daughter up in her arms and carried her back to the captain's quarters and the waiting couch there.

  <-----/^----->

  Kit used a grapple tether line to hook to the passing Duck. The Duck turned, exposing her belly for his shot. “This had better work, you've got one shot kid,” Baloo said over the radio. The Duck had cut her engines to coast but hadn't slowed down. They couldn't afford to. In such a situation, speed was literally life. Speed to get away and out of the range of the fighters before they could turn around and come after them. A stern chase was a near impossible chase, but when the predator was a ship with twice the acceleration of the prey, it could end very badly for the unarmed prey. Only a flat out run would work after they picked up their new guest. If they picked him up. That was a big If.

  “I've got it!” Kit said in exultation as the gappler head snagged the right rudder. “I'm hooked up!”

  “Good, cause we're still moving,” Baloo said. He goosed the engines once more. When the moving ship pulled the slack out of the line, he released his restraints and was yanked off his ship. The little fighter ship was still on autopilot. He hooted over flying, then reeled himself in.

  <-----/^----->

  Kit was reeled in carefully. The Duck rolled to present her topside to the passing fighters and cover the boy's entrance to the hatch. Once he was near the airlock, he felt his strength give out. “Don't give up kid; you're almost there,” Baloo urged.

  Kit looked up when he felt a glove touch his arm. Together, the two suited figures got inside. Wildcat in his suit helped the exhausted cub past the lock. When he took his helmet off, they were shocked and delighted to find another bear cub.

  “You…you're a bear! He's a bear?” Molly said incredulously, clearly delighted as she looked from her mother to Kit. She clapped her hands in excitement.

  “So are you,” Kit said defensively, pointing to the cub, then to her mom. “And so is she, what's the big deal? So what?”

  “Coincidence, kid, sometimes, life's just funny like that,” Wildcat said, patting the cub on the shoulder. “It's a small universe. Welcome aboard,” he yowled, then left.

  Mowgli took one look then sniffed in disgust. He followed the cougar out. Rebecca frowned, looking after them. “Don't mind them, they are, moody, I suppose you could say.” She'd finally gotten enough out of Bagheera to understand Mowgli. His parents had indeed died. They had been friends of Baloo—veterans who had suffered severe mental problems after the AI war. Treatment only helped if you wanted it, if you didn't…

  And none thought to check on those around them, how it would affect the family. Mowgli's parents had lived on the streets for years with him, moving about to keep ahead of the social workers. When his parents had been killed, Bagheera had promised his dying mother to take care of the boy. He'd tried, but the boy had been downright feral, and in many ways he still was. Baloo had come looking for the panther and had taken them in.

  “Well, hello there, little britches,” Baloo said, coming in. He paused and then pulled out a ball cap. He set it on the cub's head and then tugged the brim down. “Here, this is for you.”

  “Gee thanks,” the cub said.

  “Shouldn't you be flying the Duck?” Molly asked.

  “I've got Bagheera on that,” Baloo said. “I wanted to meet our new guest face-to-face. That was some flying kid,” he said, pretending to punch the kid on the shoulder. The kid flinched as if the bear really was going to hurt him. “And some fine shooting. You're all right.”

  “Thanks,” Kit said.

  “So, let's hear it,” the bear said, taking a ring side seat.

  Kit sighed. He perked up when Molly handed him an energy bar and a drink. “Thanks,” he told the toddler. She smiled, now shy. He ruffled her hair as he unwrapped the bar and practically devoured it.

  “What do you want? My life story?”

  “Whatever works, kid,” Baloo said, waving airily. “Start at the beginning, finish at the end.”

  Kit had been on a ship; it had been taken by pirates. He'd hid in the ship's air ducts for weeks. Then stole the little fighter ship and escaped. His father had been a Native American who had changed himself into a bear form after a spirit walk and after he'd met Kit's mother. Cloudkicker was his family name. The cub was a proud lad, quite extraordinary, and ready to take care of himself despite everything that had just happened.

  His mother had been a bear. His family had been circus performers at one point. Rebecca wasn't sure if the cub was lying or not. He was five, not quite a teen in bear years, but close.

  Baloo didn't completely buy the story, but he went along with it, knowing the cub's pride was on the line. Something didn't quite fit, but he'd find out later with a little gentle teasing and p
rodding. Right now, they all needed to just settle down.

  <-----/^----->

  “So, you know any way out of here? I mean fast, before the Don catches on?”

  “As a matter of fact I do,” Kit replied, hopping to his feet. “If you'll trust me.”

  “Lead on, Navigator,” Baloo said, ushering him to the cockpit.

  “Navigator,” Kit said. Huh, I kind of like that,” he said. The cub showed the older bear a tricky path to get through the area faster. He muttered something about how the Don would miss his skills and regret trying to kill him.

  The male bears bonded when Baloo let the cub take the controls briefly. Rebecca was amused and envious of that fast bond.

  “Boys and their toys,” she murmured.

  Kit formed a slight bond with Rebecca when she mothered him. She insisted he take a shower, which amused and disgusted him. She even oversaw the operation, which embarrassed him. Despite the tentative bond she insisted he call her “Miss Cunningham.” She smiled softly when he did. “See? He at least can be a gentleman with training,” she said, elbowing Baloo who oofed.

  “Training, yeah right,” the bear said. “Kid, you're giving me a bad name,” he said. Kit snorted. Rebecca glared. “Welcome to the three ring circus kid,” he said.

  Kit formed an instant sibling bond with Molly. Wildcat presented each of them with a toy— Kit a flying wing, Molly a stuffed bear.

  <-----/^----->

  The pirates caught up with the errant ship when it ran out of fuel. “Ah, boss, we've been had,” the luckless pirate reported.

  “Is empty? How'd he do it?” the Don demanded. “Where'd he go?” he asked.

  “Um…” If the pirates could scratch their heads in their suits they would. “Um, we don't um, know?” they said, hunching up, despite the distance between them and the pirate captain. “Sorry boss…”

  “Get back here you imbeciles! Do I have to do everything myself?” the Don snarled. The Don was pissed when the crew reported it was empty. They hauled the small fighter back to their bulk freighter headquarters, the Vulture.