Jump Starting the Universe

by John David Buchanan

  “Mark, what is wrong with you,” Nita asked, “you were almost rude to that clerk.”

  “That man, the man in the store that went to the loo, that’s Zypho, “exclaimed Mark as he hurried Nita down the street.

  “How can you be sure of that,” returned Nita.

  “Because I saw the tip of a sword below his overcoat Nita, he already knows what’s happened and he came here to clean up the mess and leave no witnesses.”

  “A sword,” asked Nita. “The policeman said he does as much business with a sword as he does with a contract,” responded Mark as he hurried forward.

  “Get in the wagon,” Mark demanded when they got close, “don’t ask questions, just get in and punch the Jump Starter. Everyone was startled but got in immediately. Woosh came the sound. Mark could see the man coming down the street. Woosh. The man entered the hotel. A white haze enveloped the Nomad. Woosh another golden ring slid by then another. They began to look slightly translucent. Woosh came another ring. Mark watched the front door of the hotel. Woosh. The man stepped out the front door and was talking to the maître d’, who looked up to where the Nomad was parked and pointed in their direction. The man tipped his hat and began walking quickly toward the parking lot. The rings were now appearing so fast that the wooshing sounds were well on their way to sounding like a hurricane force gale. The white haze began to pulse with silver flashes and became slightly transparent. Woosh, woosh came the rings. The man reached the far side of the parking lot and unlashed his overcoat. Halfway across the parking lot he began pulling off his coat and reached over his shoulder to pull a long Kitan from its sheath. He reached into the pocket of his coat and pulled out a small box. “That doesn’t look good,” commented Blackie from the back seat. “

  What is that?” yelled Mark, “Blackie what is that?” The man punched the box with his finger and a small bright red light on the side of the box lit up. Just as he raised the box toward them, the Nomad, five people and a considerable amount of music equipment vanished before his eyes.

  CHAPTER FOURTEEN

  EYES THAT SEE

  “You must be kidding, does this Jump Starter go anywhere besides the boonies?” spit Wayne.

  “Never mind that, what do you think that box was that Zypho pointed at us?” asked Mark.

  “Maybe it was a tracker,” said Wayne.

  “It was a jump disrupter of some sort,” said Blackie from the backseat.

  “A what?” asked Amelia.

  “A disrupter,” replied Blackie. “Why would he turn on a device and point it at us when we were in the middle of a jump cycle unless he thought he could stop us. I’ll bet people are running from Zypho all the time. Don’t you think he would get a bit frustrated if every time he wanted to carve someone up they kept jumping around the universe? I’d be willing to bet Zypho paid someone, maybe bribed an engineer at Jump Starter Corporation, and had them construct a disrupter that could interfere with an active jump. If we hadn’t started when Mark yelled at us we’d be back there trying to bare knuckle a guy with a very long sword.”

  “Where do you think we are?” asked Nita to no one in particular.

  “No idea,” came the reply from Wayne, “and we aren’t going to drive the Nomad around to find out. It couldn’t manage this ground even if it were an all-terrain vehicle.”

  Mark walked over the edge of a steep slope and said, “Let’s have a look around then, shall we?”

  Blackie fidgeted and kept glancing up with a nervous look on his face, “Don’t you think we should put some distance between us and Zypho, maybe jump again just to be sure we’re safe.”

  Wayne considered his comment and replied, “Blackie, we don’t know where we are, we could be a long, long way from Latninea Four, and we could jump again and end up closer than where we are now.

  “That may be true,” shot back Blackie, “but Berk said don’t be traced. Something tells me we haven’t seen the last of Zypho.”

  “If he can trace us then it won’t make any difference how many jumps we make,” offered Amelia, “we can’t keep jumping and running forever.”

  Mark had quietly listened to them discussing the finer elements of a jump-don’t jump discussion and entered the fray, “How about Wayne backs the Nomad up close to the face of that cliff just there, and we pile some of this brush randomly in front of it. The Nomad’s root beer colour won’t be easily seen through the brush if anyone comes poking about.” Blackie wasn’t convinced but Wayne was already in the driver’s seat and backing the Nomad up. Everyone pitched in and soon the wagon was well camouflaged.

  “I know its back there and I still have a hard time seeing it,” said Amelia who could tell Blackie wasn’t keen on the idea of staying.

  “Time for a hike,” said Mark and off he went down the steep slope in front of them.

  The slope formed a trail that almost immediately became a series of descending switchbacks that worked themselves down the mountainside, finally leveling out at a small meadow overlooking a green valley. The meadow was lined with trees, but on the far side there was an opening where the switchbacks continued. When everyone caught up they rested for a moment, and had a drink of water.

  Wayne hoisted the pack onto his back and Mark turned to walk across the meadow when Amelia said, “Wait Mark.” He stopped and turned to see Amelia intently looking down into the meadow, which was covered with trees about all about eight meters tall and spaced one to two meters apart. They had green leaves and some of the trees had little splotches of red that were barely visible.

  Blackie walked up beside Amelia. “Those trees are being cultivated,” he said. “I think you are right,” said Nita, “it looks like a nursery.”

  Amelia looked at Mark with a strained look on her face, “I think I know where we are,” she said.

  “What sort of trees do you suppose those are?” said Wayne.

  “I know where we are,” whispered Amelia. Blackie looked at Amelia and looked at the meadow, “I know where we are too, and those are coffee bushes.”

  “Let’s go have a look,” said Mark.

  “Stop Mark, stop,” said Amelia forcefully. “The first morning we were at Sly’s house he told me a story about this place, this is Gavalkia. There are Pickers out there.”

  “Let’s go meet them,” said Mark.

  “No you don’t understand they are very protective of their coffee trees.”

  “So what?”

  “Mark, not too long ago they put some chap named Chey Singal through a garden grinder and made compost out of him because they thought he wanted to buy some of their beans.” No one said a word; they stood there digesting what had just been said. “We need to be quiet, we need to go back up the trail,” said Amelia, “and we need to jump out of here as soon as we get to the Nomad. From across the meadow they heard a noise, the sound of something running, running very hard and fast right for them.

  “We need to move,” said Wayne, but before any of them could even turn toward the trail a man burst through the gap in the trees at the far side of the meadow, saw them, and came to an abrupt stop. The only noise was the man trying to catch his breath. Everyone stood still, the group was eyeing the man and the man was definitely eyeing them.

  He finally caught his breath, took a quick look behind him and from across the meadow said, “Who are you and what the blazes are you doing here?”

  “You don’t have to get your knickers in a wad,” said Wayne, “we landed here by mistake.” The man looked at them as a sudden noise came from behind him down the switchbacks, like something very heavy climbing through soft soil toward the meadow.

  “You made a very bad mistake,” said the man, “follow me.” He tore across the meadow and started up the trail. There was another heavy sound from the trail across the meadow.

  “I’m going with him,” said Nita and she slashed across the meadow like a sprinter.

  “Me too,” said Amelia and off she went behind Nita. Another heavy sound came from the trail below
the meadow, but it was more distinct.

  “Let’s go,” said Mark and he, Wayne and Blackie bolted for the trail.

  “Quickly, in here,” said the man who was holding back an armful of heavy vines that concealed the entrance to a cave. Nita and Amelia went in without hesitation. Not far behind were Mark and Blackie with Wayne bringing up the rear. “Inside quickly, did they see you?” inquired the man.

  “I don’t think so,” responded Blackie as he followed Mark into the cave. “Did they see you?” said the man to Wayne as he approached.

  “I don’t like caves,” said Wayne.

  “I’m afraid you have no choice,” said the man, “it’s the cave or the grinder.” Wayne took a deep breath and exhaled then plunged into the cave. “All the way to the back so they can’t hear or smell us,” said the man as he adjusted the vines to obscure the cave’s opening. They all moved to the back of the cave.

  Mark looked at the man and asked, “Are there no Lactrodectopoi in here?”

  “No, none,” said the man and he continued to look at Mark.

  “Too bad,” said Mark. The man continued to stare.

  “You are Pfeipher Conrad aren’t you?” proposed Amelia softly.

  “How in Galak’s gypsum fields did you know that?”

  “I believe we have a mutual friend named Sly,” answered Amelia, “this is Wayne, Mark, Nita, and Blackie, I’m Amelia. “Sly said you are on good terms with the Pickers so why were you running away like your life depended on it?” she continued.

  “It might, and for two very good reasons,” declared Pfeipher. “First,” he continued, “the Pickers are enraged; someone stole 25 kilos of beans from the cave at the bottom of the switchbacks just below the meadow.”

  “Judging from the number of coffee bushes in that field that doesn’t seem like much,” said Blackie.

  “You don’t understand Pickers,” stated Pfeipher, “they know every bean! They know how many there are, they know every bean’s color variation, they know how old each bean is, they know from what bloody bush each bean was collected,” he finished with a panic in his voice.

  “Secondly,” prodded Wayne.

  “Secondly, I needed to get back to this as fast as possible,” he said as he turned and picked up a Jump Starter from a rock shelf on the back wall. “There is a huge electromagnetic storm on its way through Gavalkia’s atmosphere. Normally electromagnetic storms don’t affect Jump Starter operations but this is a really big storm. If I was trying to get here, no problem, but most Jump Starters are issued without electromagnetic shielding on the outbound circuits; it will not initiate or complete a jump if there are certain types of strong electromagnetic interference. And as I have said, this storm is massive. I have to jump,” he looked at his wrist watch, “in twelve minutes or I’m stuck here until the storm passes. I suggest you leave immediately.”

  Mark looked at Amelia’s face and without any exchange of words knew there was a problem. “We can’t leave, I left our Jump Starter in the Nomad, I mean our transport,” explained Mark.

  “Why not take us with you,” reasoned Wayne, “and we can come back for the Nomad later.”

  Pfeipher checked his watch and shook his head, and then looking at Wayne said, “I have a single jumper like Sly’s and it’s programmed to only authenticate my jumps; it operates just like his.” Then he added, “You can’t leave this cave until nightfall, the Pickers will quit looking for the thief at sundown and return to the valley. Don’t go out until then.” They heard movement outside the cave and sounds like soft earth being compressed. “Stay in the cave, the Pickers will not listen to reasoned arguments or pleas for mercy,” stated Pfeipher matter-of-factly, “I’ll see Sly at the Tree House in two hours and let him know you are here.”

  He left them standing against the back of the cave and moved toward the entrance. “At nightfall make your way back to your transport. In the morning try to make a jump, if it’s unsuccessful try again in an hour. Stay out of sight and do not go near the valley,” he said firmly. Pfeipher was standing just inside the cave entrance and pushed the red button on his Jump Starter.

  Woosh. Woosh came the sound again, and Pfeipher was shrouded in a bright white haze. A glittering golden ring formed in mid-air and moved slowly encircling him and passing by toward the cave entrance. Woosh came the sound again as another golden ring passed, then another. They could see Pfeipher checking his watch. The white haze began to pulse with silver flashes and he became slightly transparent.

  “He looks like thin smoke,” said Blackie. The silver flashes increased in intensity and the haze became more and more transparent, then he vanished.

  “That’s pretty cool,” said Wayne, “do you think we look that cool when we’re jumping?”

  Everyone was quiet for some unknown time. “I’ve been thinking about what Pfeipher said,” began Blackie softly, “I think the box Zypho had was an electromagnetic field generator.” Nita looked at Blackie and asked how he came to that conclusion. “Pfeipher said an intense electromagnetic storm could prevent or disrupt a jump. Zypho was about to point that box at us when we vanished. I’m sure it was an electromagnetic generator.”

  “Well he is there and we are here, so we’re probably safe for now,” responded Nita.

  “I think we are trapped,” remarked Blackie and he continued, “Pfeipher said getting here wouldn’t be a problem, it’s getting out that’s the problem.”

  Mark responded immediately, “Blackie, I don’t think that’s what he said.”

  “You are wrong Mark,” said Wayne joining the debate, “he said – “If I was trying to get here, no problem” – that is exactly what he said. I think Blackie is right.”

  Mark thought for a minute and responded, “Then we should hole up here until just before morning. I don’t want to be walking around out there if Zypho can trace us. I want to see him before he sees us. Considering the circumstances we’re probably safer in here.” Everyone agreed and they each found a place to lie down. Blackie set the alarm on his watch. No one really slept but they all closed their eyes, all except Blackie. He knew what was coming and now was the time to think about what to do. He didn’t want to discuss it with the rest of the group; the idea of facing a murderer with a sword was frightening and he needed to think, he needed time to think and plan.

  Pfeipher walked up to the table where a waiter was just placing a red and yellow drink in front of Sly and said, “I just met some friends of yours two hours ago.”

  “Who would that be?”

  “Amelia, Mark, Wayne, Nita and Blackie.”

  “Really, where did you meet them?” The waiter standing at the table asked if Pfeipher would like a drink.

  “Yes, blue glacier water please.” The waiter produced a bottle from behind his back and began to pour. Pfeipher turned his attention to Sly, “They were on Gavalkia; said it was an accident,” he murmured softly.

  The waiter stopped pouring then asked, “Will that be all?”

  “Yes, we will order when Vanessa and the children join us, thank you,” stated Sly. The waiter turned his head upward and looked out through a hole in the tree’s canopy, “There is a fierce storm over Gavalkia,” he said as he turned and walked away.

  “Fascinating beings,” said Pfeipher as he watched the waiter approach the kitchen door. “Anyway,” he continued, “the Pickers were in a rage and a terrible storm was moving in, so I left them at my safe cave. They couldn’t leave because they didn’t have their Jump Starter on them. I told them to make for their transport after dark and jump as soon as possible.”

  Blackie’s alarm went off and he roused the others. After a very brief and cold breakfast they peeked outside quickly to see if morning had come. Fog hung in the air like too much perfume in a small closet. It settled along the ground to a height of almost two meters and there was just enough light to make it glimmer like an old mercury vapor lamp trying desperately to come on. “This will do,” said Blackie as he ducked back into the cave, “there i
s just enough light to see, let’s pack our things and head out.”

  Amelia yanked a light jacket out of her bag and pulled it on, “It looks like a cold sauna out there, and I don’t want to get damp. Nita decided a jacket was a good idea and donned her own.

  “So maybe Wayne and Mark should go up first, and then Amelia and Nita and I’ll come last,” said Blackie, thinking Wayne was probably the best fighter in the group and Mark was bigger than himself. He also wanted to be between the group and the Pickers if they decided to leave the bushes and inspect the meadow. Up the switchbacks they went, through the cool fog like ghosts looking for a place to haunt. Wayne stopped suddenly. Looking down at the trail in front of him he moved his right foot forward and placed it on the ground.

  “Look at this,” he said half twisting around toward the group and looking at Blackie. Wayne had placed the heel of his foot against the edge of a large imprint in the soil. “They have very big feet,” remarked Wayne, whose foot was about one tenth the size of the impression.

  Amelia was visibly shaken by the sight of the imprint. “It’s a good thing Pfeipher was here,” she struggled to say as her voice broke.

  “Pfeipher said the Pickers would return to the valley Amelia, we’ll be fine,” offered Mark reassuringly, “let’s move on.” Blackie looked behind him down the trail for assurance the Pickers were not stalking them.

  They finally reached the Nomad and immediately got in to initiate a jump but nothing happened.

  “The storm is still raging up there,” observed Blackie as he looked at the clouds, “how about we have lunch and then try again.” They spread out a thin blanket on the ground and laid out food and drinks.

  About fifteen minutes had gone by when they heard a sound like something falling out of a tree to the ground. Everyone focused on the exact spot where the sound came from, the spot where Zypho stood about 20 meters away looking straight at them. He was grizzled looking, like someone who had slept outside for days on end. His pants were wrinkled and he wore boots; the kind you would use in a factory, like metal-toed boots. His coat and cloak were pulled closed and just below the cloak hem you could see the tip of a blade.