Serial Fiction with Friends
Last month, Tucker escaped the stasis pod only to be re-captured and thrown in a cell with a hungry Capastraunian. We left him hiding, naked and slimy, under the Capastraunian's built-in bunk -- moments from death by poisonous tentacle barb.
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Read up on previous segments (in past issues) here.
The Nightwalker
He sucked in a nauseating breath of decaying flesh, rotting vegetables, and feces -- and squeezed back as the barb swiped past again, missing his flesh by mere millimeters.
Tucker had nothing with which to poke at the cuffs, currently, and therefore, nothing with which to re-activate or reprogram them. Debris and sludge of unthinkable origin littered the room. If he could just get to the pile of bones in the corner...
"DO YOU REALLY WANT TO EAT ME?" he yelled. "I CAN GET YOU OUT OF HERE!"
The Capastraunian flattened its tentacle further, preparing for another, closer swipe under its permanently mounted bunk.
He held his breath, awaiting the swipe, the jab, the paralyzing poison.
At least it would put an end to his endless respawning cycles. The multiverse was on its own now.
A clunking, tumbling sound echoed through the cell, closely followed by a second. The tentacle paused.
So did Tucker's heart.
An apple bounced off of the tentacle and rolled in front of the bunk.
Another bounced off the nearby wall.
The attacking tentacle pulled out from under the bunk as the Capastraunian skewered the first apple with its other one, popping the apple into its soft beak. Slurping noises ensued as the gigantic, bipedal brute popsicled the comparatively miniscule apple, digesting it layer by layer. Crunch. It skewered the second one.
"Staying until he's done with the appetizers?" the robotic voice reverberated impatiently.
Tucker shimmied out from under the bunk, pausing only a half-second as he exited to ensure his cellmate was not looking. He sprang up and beelined across the cell, splooshing through piles of organic detritus that made his bile rise and innards curl.
"Left, NOW!"
He dove left, under the food chute, just as a barbed tentacle swiped past him, detouring to skewer another lifesaving apple midair. Who would've known Capastraunians liked apples so much? Or maybe just this Capastraunian?
The hidden access hatch slid open in front of him, revealing a humanoid encased in an all-black mech suit with an opaque face shield.
A nightwalker! Out of the frying pan...he didn't even hesitate. The door slammed closed behind him, nearly catching his heel.
The nightwalker pointed its left arm at his shackles, and they clanged to the floor from his neck, wrists, and ankles. “LET'S GO!” the robotic voice commanded. It turned and barreled toward the exit at the far end of the cell block, about 100 meters away. The prison noises almost drowned out the noise from the mech suit boots pounding the floor.
Tucker raced after it, his slick, gross bare feet slapping and sliding against the smooth, hard floor -- every stride jarring and unreliable. And leaving an obvious trail.
Tjalian security codes used a to-date-unhackable level of encryption. To get through, you had to somehow locate and steal the single paired transmitter for each location, usually embedded in the body armor of a formidable shift commander.
The nightwalker arrived at the door to the cell block several seconds before him. It tapped a sequence on its left arm, and aimed it at the cell block door.
Commanders and codes were changed at random intervals. The transmitter the nightwalker had stolen might even now be unusable. His already thin breath got thinner.
The door opened just as he slid up. He felt a tentative hope -- and became even more aware of his new 'cologne' and stark nakedness -- as they escaped down the hall to the right. Most embarrassing escape ever...
Huffing uncontrollably, he was again outpaced by a mile. It must be nice to have a mech suit right now.
The nightwalker ducked to the left at the end of the short passage. When Tucker reached the turn, it grabbed his arm and yanked him over, tapping a button on its suit in the same instant.
Like water through a sieve, the current time and place dissolved, and a new one appeared.
White and misty, unformed, squishy, and odorless -- this was a blank place, a void.
Well, almost blank. Tucker squinted at a familiar-looking fuzzy spot ahead, but he was pretty sure he’d never been here before.
The nightwalker pushed him through it, jumping in after him. As he was sucked into the maelstrom, his memory finally cleared. This was a time portal. Like the network of streams he'd discovered and used -- all but destroyed through misuse eons ago. This was one of the remnants the Tjalians and others were seeking. He started to realize why the nightwalker might need him enough to risk its own life.
Oh Crap.
