Run, Space Cowboy, Run!
By
Geltab
* * * * *
PUBLISHED BY:
Copyright © 2016 by Geltab
All rights reserved. Without limiting the rights under copyright reserved above, no part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in or introduced into a retrieval system, or transmitted, in any form, or by any means (electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, or otherwise) without the prior written permission of both the copyright owner and the above publisher of this book.
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, brands, media, and incidents are either the product of the author's imagination or are used fictitiously. The author acknowledges the trademarked status and trademark owners of various products referenced in this work of fiction, which have been used without permission. The publication/use of these trademarks is not authorized, associated with, or sponsored by the trademark owners.
Run, Space Cowboy, Run!
He was using a banned model of incineration pistol, popping off round after round above my heads; my virtual head was extended around the corner so I could see where he was with no danger. The Ninithium metal of the column was starting to melt under the heat, the pistol must be a “Kizlorsky” model.
That’s the problem with these “Skrokers,” too much extensive DNA manipulation and interpretation; they can move into insanity at any moment. They were supposed to be off the market twenty cycles ago, but here we are again, having a shootout in a damned food court. This is what happens when you combine biology and technology with no morality, “Skrokers.”
I actually knew this guy before his faulty programming drove him insane. He ran the “Roasted Ribuck Shack” and his name was Eddie. How could I have missed a “Skroker” everyday? He showed none of the signs we’re trained to look for, what the hell is the deal with that?
‘Too many pills too much alcohol old man.’ I thought quickly to my addictions making me slower.
I wondered who was hiding these damned things. What made Eddie go nuts today? No more Roasted Ribuck? Damn! This is why I think the law is meant to be interpreted in a lenient way. So, sometimes I lean to one side, sometimes I lean to the other.
Instead of firing I called out to crazy Eddie because I liked his Roasted Ribuck.
“Eddie! Listen, I’m giving you one chance to put down that incinerator, wherever you found it and…” I was cut off by two shots above the head. “Screw this!” I mumbled and grabbed my “Nano-Horn.”
I twisted, clicked, and he powered on, unhappy as usual I might add.
With two beeps and a constant buzz that I’m sure it does on purpose, he asked me what I wanted.
“Oh not much, just please kill that HOMICIDAL SKROKER SHOOTING AT ME!” More beeping that equals a sigh followed, but off he went. I’ve never had a more disagreeable “Nano-Horn” but they’re molecularly attached. What are you going to do?
Eddie was unfortunately incinerated when my “Nano-Horn” reflected his pistol shot back into his chest.
“All’s well that ends well,” that’s what Shakespeare said my Nano-Horn beeped to me.
“Shakespeare huh? He must be from Lunar station B47, we’ve been saying that for years.” I said stepping from the dripping metal of the Ninithium column before it burned me down too.
“Easy for you to say,” the Nano-Horn replied.
“Back in the pack you,” I grabbed it and placed it back into my interdimensional carrying case kept in an alternate universe next to my person and accessible through my DNA interface. It comes in handy for storing all kinds of things…and bodies.
Moving on, within ten minutes the cleaning and disinfecting bots were disposing of the casualties and removing any trace of a firefight. The column was beyond welding and was simply cut out and replaced by a Hulkem47G Robot, massive and mindless construction models.
I bought my own ship through the subconscious nanoweb, it was constructed by bots in front of my eyes, right after payment of course. It took all of my savings but she’s a beauty, sleek lines, not too big for port, but packing an insane and surprising arsenal for all the space waste shitheads, especially the pirates. The weapons and defensive upgrades is what took all the money. Damn Zeruvian mechanics with their Bible of building, and scam religion. They claim they worship the things they build; really they just raise their children from birth to be overcharging assholes! But they’re the best in the Multiverse, not just the Universe, so where are you going to go when you need invisible dividing dark matter blasters? A Zeruivian, that’s where!
Anyway, I had my own bots load her up with my few remaining possessions. I had everything on board for my needs. When I took my first steps up the ramp it shut and flung me forward into the hold as the ship took off. I only came to my feet by hitting the wall. When I could think again I wondered who was flying my ship.
Running the pilot seat as fast as I could, which was just me stumbling clumsily while banging into things, I was still seeing double, but I found the pilot.
“What the shit?” I blurted out without even knowing it.
“Good to see you too,” he responded.
It was my “Nano-Horn” somehow free and on its own.
“They kill people who change Nano-Horns you idiot!” I yelled while moving to turn the ship around and get rid of this crazy, obviously broken Nano-Horn.
“That’s not my problem, now calm down fleshy. We’re already in another galaxy, what you call authorities are nothing here.”
“You know, I don’t like trouble, unless I start it. Now I can never go back, not even for a pizza visit. Thanks a lot you nano piece of junk, how are you here anyway? Why are you functioning independently and alone?”
“We’ve arrived at our destination,” the voice of the ship’s computer said, calm and creepy at the same time. I might have to change that voice pattern later.
“And what is that destination?” I asked of my seemingly possessed technology.
“Your next job, it’s time for you to capture or kill Trampas Wildmark.”
“Trampas Wildmark! The most wanted man in galaxy 4,367?” Now I was getting excited.
“The one and only, he is in this town according to the tracker I am tracking.”
This Nano-Horn was starting to freak me out. Without a command it flew back into my invisible carryall hitting me in the head on purpose.
“You bastard!” I screamed at his inanimate ass.
“Yes, but in my case an accident of creation. But you, you’re a self-made man.” It replied with the usual beeps and buzzes, getting the better of me again as it slipped into the other dimension where my carryall resides.
Turning to leave the ship I was startled to see the sheriff of this little wherever standing there eyeballing me with his forty eyes. He was a squid descendant, new to me, but something is every day. I suddenly had an anxious feeling that this Nano-Horn may have taken me farther than I realized.
We stood silent for a moment; I could feel the Multiversal translation modules working overtime.
“We need to chat, want a coffee?” Was his question when I could understand him.
“Well yes sir, thank you, I would. I like my coffee strong enough to float a pistol.” He didn’t laugh, I think.
We walked into a dark room that passed for a bar or tavern in this place. I sat on the floor, the sheriff sort of spread out his tentacles everywhere. I guess on a planet of squid people you don’t need chairs.
“So, you’re here for Trampas Wildmark, right?” He was to the point and obviously had better intelligence than I could dream, no use lying.
“That’s right sheriff, heard a rumor he was around town.”
“Heard where?” Now he was get
ting testy.
“Now sheriff, we seem to be…” He cut me off mid sentence.
“When I want to know anything from you, I’ll tell you, you two legged son of a monkey!”
“Well now sheriff, if you want to call me that, smile.”
He threw the table out of the way and rose to his full and enormous height.
“Human thing, I can see we won’t have you around here long enough to get tired of your company.”
“You know sheriff, being a space cowboy may be unseemly, and for a long time I was ashamed of the way I lived.”
The sharp fanged, multi tentacle sheriff laughed and hissed, “I suppose you think you’ve reformed?”
I pulled my dual eleven millimeter reverse gravity pistols and emptied the batteries to deplete.
“No, I got over being ashamed.”
The smoke rose and filled my nostrils with fried squid; I was hungry but had to run. I ran back to the ship forgetting about Trampas Wildmark, I figured leaving the planet after killing the squid sheriff might be more important.
“Fly now,” I commanded the ship knowing the preprogrammed routes would take over as needed.
“No can do chief,” was the reply of Trampas Wildmark sitting in the pilot seat with his pistol trained on me, he motioned for me to sit. “How’s my sheriff?”
“Well, he suffered lacerations, incinerations, and a concussion. His jugular vein exploded, I counted four broken ribs and a separating of the skull. To put it briefly, he’s real dead.”
Trampas smirked, “You know you don’t look so tough to me up close; I think you’re full of shit.”
I decided to play the tough guy, I think Trampas expected it, and when people call you a “Space Cowboy” there’s a certain reputation to uphold, dead or alive.
“Well, if I’m not so tough; there have been an awful lot of natural deaths in the vicinity recently.”
Trampas put his pistol down and began to laugh making his tentacles shake. I joined him as we embraced.
“Trampas old friend, how many years has it been?”
“I only count the bodies these days, old buddy.” He answered creeping me out.
“So the rumors are true? You’re a murdering loon now?”
“No, No. I only defend myself against the light of the dark.”
Now he was confirming my suspicions, I think old Trampas may have finally snapped. But, being such an open minded Space Cowboy I took a seat and poured two drinks.
“Tell me about the light of the dark,” I am a glutton for insanity.
“There’s a new race in our dimension, they entered a few decades ago human time. They are formless and evil, I think they eat energy in this dimension, I’m not sure. All I know is they are framing me and others in positions to gather people together.”
“Interesting,” I finished my drink. “You don’t know more about them? Because you know how this sounds I’m sure?”
“Just wait,” he finished his drink.
“Wait for what?”
“They follow me everywhere, I can never escape.”
“So you come to me? After twenty cycles! Thank you so much, for all I know these are just real people hunting you for your crimes and you’re insane!”
There was a booming knock on the door, and I knew it was time for me to make a decision.
“This is how you answer a door in my neighborhood Trampas… WHO IS IT?!”
“Empire watch, we’re here for Trampas Wildmark. We know he is inside, we watched him enter.”
Time to test Trampas’ insanity, I moved over to my dresser and pulled out my removal kit. It contains a special powder I spent a cycle’s salary on fourteen cycles ago, and it’s not even fun drugs! It does however reveal the underlying truth about any being trying to wear a disguise in my presence, even interdimensional ones. I poured some on my hand and snorted hard up my nostril. As my eyes watered I placed the jar back in its place and waited a moment, there was more booming on the door. I turned and opened the door; there were three things I never knew existed.
“I’ll be damned,” I couldn’t help but say out loud surprised Trampas was sane, relatively speaking. I instantly fired down on all three with my trusty dual pistols, there was nothing left of them, the ash blew away in the strong winds we were having that night.
Trampas was just sitting there glaring at me knowingly, he was right and now we both knew it.
“What do these things want ultimately, do you know?”
“They want this universe; you think this is the only galaxy they’re invading? This is a universe wide invasion my friend. We just happen to have some technology close to theirs, what about all the primitives out there who can’t see interdimensionally? There is no defense. Can you imagine their horror at being possessed?”
I was dumbstruck, I had to sit down and drink again.
“Universe wide? Fuck me…How do you defend against a race that can do that? Now galaxy wide we know about, hell even multi-galactic invasions, but an entire universe? Holy schnirt!”
“Does this thing fly?”
I smiled at him, “Does it fly? Does it fly? Watch this, hold on.”
With one touch of the quantum drive we were in our own black hole traveling the universes, it was simply a matter of inputting the correct destination.
“Where are we going?”
“The Multiverse.”