Final
by Matthew Atanian
©2008 by Matthew Atanian
by Matthew Atanian
©2008 by Matthew Atanian
Kenny and Becker were running for their lives. The air was filled with the smell of burning. Burning vegetation, burning buildings, burning asphalt, burning... They didn’t want to think about what else might be burning. They ran from the smoldering ruins of the Church in the Acers.
The day had started so well. In the morning, Kenny had received a progress report on the construction of the new starship. In the afternoon, he had finally located in which dimension Nicole and Jason had been trapped. That evening, there had been a happy reunion at the scout meeting.
Nicole, the last surviving Porter sister, ran behind them. A few other survivors who had managed to escape were there, too. Luke Walker. Matt Swett. Hopefully they weren’t the only ones, but who knew?
Kenny led the way to a dark blue minivan that was suddenly pulling into the parking lot of the former church. It came to a stop before them and the side door swung open. “Get in, quick!” Kenny commanded as another bolt of destruction came out of the sky. This one missed the remains of the church, instead hitting a house across the street. Swett swore. It had been his house.
They all got into the van, and Becker noticed that it seemed to be computer controlled. This came as no surprise to Becker. During his association with the young genius, Becker had never observed Kenny to have anything resembling a parent or guardian. So why should he have expected to find someone flesh and blood to be driving the van that picked Kenny up every week?
“Van, home,” Kenny commanded, “Laboratory entrance.”
Becker looked at the others sitting in the van as it swerved its way down the remains of the road. Kenny seemed calm and in control, but Becker couldn’t help but wonder if that was really the case. Indeed, Swett and Luke seemed to be in something of a state of shock, sitting quietly and looking straight ahead. Becker was rather surprised that he wasn’t in such a state, himself. Perhaps it hadn’t just caught up to him yet.
The real surprise to him was Nicole. Nicole, usually the most unflappable of the Porter sisters. The one who stayed “all business” no matter what else was going on around her.
Nicole was crying.
Becker reached over to her and placed a hand on her shoulder. She looked up in his direction, but didn’t seem to notice him for a moment. Then her eyes focused. “B... Becker,” she said, sniffling. “They’re gone. My... my sisters, Jason... Oh, god, Jason! He’d hate that his last words were such a terrible pun!”
Just before the attack came, Jason and Nicole had been telling the Garden Snake Patrol about their adventures in El-Hazard. When Nicole had chided Jason for getting drunk and hitting on the fire priestess Shayla-Shayla, Jason apologized and said he didn’t understand how he could do such a thing, pausing before adding, “After all, I’ve always been more of an Afura man.”
“I don’t know,” Becker said in a weak attempt to comfort Nicole. “Having read a bit of the stuff that Jason’s written, I think he’d have liked to go out on a bad pun.”
Although her tears did not stop, Nicole did smile weakly. She then punched Becker in the arm.
“Ow!”
“Thanks,” Nicole then said. Then she turned away from Becker, and her crying continued.
The makeshift group walked into the Laboratory. It was already a buzz of activity, many of the operatives Kenny and Becker had gathered over the last month running from station to station. Fenchurch came over and led Nicole, Luke, and Swett off to freshen up.
Kenny was greeted at the entryway by his head of information gathering, Number Six. (Becker had asked the man what his real name was, but he seemed oddly unsure, although he did take a moment to proclaim that he was not a number, he was a free man!)
“Mr. Pendrell,” he said, “we have a situation.”
“That is an understatement. Half of Springfield has been taken out by orbital bombardment. The church, my house... good thing the Laboratory is secure underground!”
“The computer scans indicate that the cause is an orbital bombardment originating from a ship matching the description of the one Mr. Yung and Mr. Proctor secured for Snarfinkle in the same universe you encountered Captain Spockman.”
“They got a space ship?” Becker exclaimed. “Why did they wait a month to attack?”
“You remember how the dimensional transference irreparably damaged the Doorprise,” Kenny reminded Becker. “My guess is that Schofield’s ship suffered similar damage, but not as bad. Probably took them this long to effect repairs.”
“Good thing you’re smarter,” Becker said. “In the time it took to repair their ship, you built a whole new one.”
The trio of Kenny, Becker, and Number Six had reached the main computer terminal, where Spockman was already standing. “It certainly is a different ship,” Spockman commented as he pulled up a schematic.
“Well, I kept the name “Doorprise” for you,” Kenny said. “But it’s the Battlestar Doorprise.”
“Like I said, certainly a different ship,” Spockman repeated. “Although I agree with you that the increased armament and fighter capacity (What did you call them, Vipers?) will come in handy in a battle situation. It’ll just take some getting used to.
“Too bad Matt is gone,” Becker reflected. “A match up between a battlestar and a Star Trek type ship. It’d be a sci-fi fan’s wet dream.”
“I had been hoping that it wouldn’t come to a battle,” Kenny responded. “I have always believed in peace. But this attack must be answered. Matt and the others... Mike, Aaron, Gelinas, Billy, Sarah,” Kenny choked up slightly as he said one last name, “Kirstin.... they will be avenged.”
The Laboratory shook around them and some dust fell from the ceiling as another bombardment began.
“Well,” Spockman said, “I suppose I have a ship to get launched then.”
“Captain, sensors are detecting something launching from beneath the Atlantic Ocean.”
“Another one of that planet’s pathetic missile attacks?” Schofield laughed. Flirt joined him. For once, Justy was silent.
Justy stood looking at the baton in his hand. The end of it was coated with a sticky, red liquid. At his feet was the source of the liquid.
Proctor.
He lay on the floor, his skin pale, his head surrounded by a pool of blood.
“Reepares arre finuhally cumpleete?” Snarfinkle asked from the main viewscreen.
“Yes, Lord Snarfinkle,” Schofield replied. “Our test run was a success. This ship is better then it ever was.”
“Eexcelleent. Aye tyre of zis game of escaleeting tenzion wiz Peendreall. You arre to come oot frum yoour hieding plaze beehiend ze moon. Aye have remooved myeself to a zecure locashun, zo yoou may ztart by obleeterating Vezrtoon Mazachoozits!”
The screen went blank.
Proctor blinked and spoke to Justy. “I’m sorry, sir, what did he say?”
Justy laughed. “Yes, the end of the Garden Snakes is at hand!”
“Um... Obliterate sounds kind of severe, doesn’t it sir?” Proctor glanced at his master. “I mean, they’re our friends! Everyone in the troop! And the girl
scouts! And your parents! How am I supposed to eat your peas for you if your mother isn’t around to cook them for you?”
“Silence, peon!” Justy exclaimed.
“No!” Proctor shouted, surprising even himself.
“Yes!”
“No, I will not be silent! You’ve gone too far, sir! This is too much! We can’t do this, it isn’t right! You can’t rule over everyone if they’re dead!”
“Justy (dramatic pause),” Flirt, standing beside Schofield’s chair, said. “Take care of (dramatic pause) your minion.”
“Proctor, go to your room... er, your quarters!”
“No, sir! I will not permit this!”
“Helm,” Schofield commanded. “Move us into geosynchronous orbit over Western Massachusetts.”
“You,” Justy said coldly, pausing long enough to give Flirt a run for his money. “You will not permit this? And who are you?”
Proctor suddenly raised his shoulders and looked directly at Justy. “I am Hecubus Proctor, loyal servant to Lord God Justy Yung. I will do anything for you, sir, even if it is saving you from yourself!”
Schofield turned his chair to face the two Boy Scouts. “Yung, take care of this before I call security to remove you both to an airlock.”
“Orbit as ordered, sir.”
“Sir,” Proctor pleaded. “Please, we have to put a stop to this before it is too late.”
Justy gripped the baton in his hands.
“Please. They are our friends.”
“First target is the structure known as The Church in the Acres. Fire on my command.”
“I have no friends,” Justy said, raising the baton.
Proctor looked quizzically into Justy’s eyes. “Sir...?”
Justy looked down at the body before him. He sunk to his knees. His lip twitched slightly. He wanted to laugh, but he couldn’t.
Schofield had turned in his chair again to look at Justy. “Call security and have those two removed from the bridge,” he scoffed. “Brig, morgue, airlock. I don’t care. Let them know they can be creative.”
Somewhere, in the back of his mind, Justy vaguely heard this. But he didn’t care. Nothing mattered anymore.
A short time later security had come and gone and the only evidence of Justy and Proctor was a pool of blood and an abandoned baton lying beside it.
“Sir, the launch from the Atlantic is not another missile attack. Sensors now detecting some sort of ship on an intercept course.”
“It can’t be (dramatic pause) the Doorprise,” Flirt remarked.
“No,” Schofield agreed, “she was destroyed. Hell, we used some of the orbital debris in our own repairs. Is it in visual range?”
“Aye, sir.”
An image displayed on the main viewer. It was an image of a battlestar, the name “Doorprise” displayed prominently on the side of the landing deck.
Schofield and Flirt laughed. “Oh, this is just perfect! Spockman got himself a new ship. Little does he know that we know how to deal with ships like that. Open a channel to our backup fleet.”
“Yes, what is it?” a man who now appeared on the screen asked. He had a sinister and calculating look in his eyes, had dark hair that was starting to grey, wore dark clothing, and seemed to be sitting on a throne-like chair upon a large pedestal.
“We may need to pull you into play sooner then we expected.”
“Good. I tire of sitting behind this moon. What is the situation?”
Schofield turned to his communications officer. “Relay our sensor data.”
After a few moments, the man on the viewscreen chuckled madly. “Oh, you cannot be serious!”
“A problem?” Schofield asked.
“Far from it,” the man said. “This will be glorious!”
“Well, we wouldn’t want to tip our hand too soon. Await my word, then come out and strike.”
The man seemed very amused with himself as he replied, “By your command.”
The man’s image disappeared from the screen, replaced by that of the approaching battlestar.
Schofield looked to Flirt, and then back to the screen. “Glorious, indeed.”
“Coming within range of the enemy starship,” Philia reported.
Spockman paced the command deck. Past Doorprises had command chairs. He missed his chair. He’d have to speak to Kenny when this was over. But there were more important matters now. “Prepare to launch the first wave of Vipers.”
Fenchurch got busy. “Core Control to Launch Bay Alpha. Stand by to launch fighter probe.”
“Acknowledge input,” the lead Viper pilot responded. “Recorded and functioning.”
“Vector coordinates coded and transferred,” Fenchurch continued. “Acknowledge.”
“Acknowledged. Ready to launch.”
“Core systems transferring control to probe craft. Launch when ready.”
On either side of the great battlestar, small, one man fighters began to fly out at top speed, and headed straight for Schofield’s starship.
“Now is where the fun begins,” Spockman commented. “While we have superior numbers and firepower, their ship has shields while all we have is an armored hull.”
“And while we do have the Vipers swarming about,” John said, “their ship is more maneuverable then ours.”
As if on cue, the ship shook from a phaser impact.
“Damn. Positive shield, now!” Spockman commanded. A large blast shield began to lower over the forward viewport. Spockman turned to John. “Have I ever told you how reassuring a presence you can be?”
“I do my best.”
“Glad to hear it.” Spockman turned towards Arthur and Matt. “Swing us around so that our port side is to them, and then have port side batteries open fire.”
“Aye, sir.”
“Schofield’s ship is taking some damage,” Philia reported. “They can’t keep up with all of the Vipers. Their shields are weakening.”
The battlestar shook from another impact. “Just hold out a little longer, people,” Spockman encouraged.
“They’re starting to back off!” Philia said.
“So soon? What is their shield strength at?”
“Estimate 37%.”
“Weakened to be sure, but not yet out. He wouldn’t give up so easily, unless...”
“Sir!” Philia interrupted. “I’m detecting two large vessels and hundreds of smaller ships coming from the direction of Earth’s moon!”
“What?” Spockman exclaimed. “Negative shield, now!”
The blast shield retracted from the viewport and Spockman looked through it. The Vipers that had previously been swarming around Schofield’s starship were now engaged with and outnumbered by slightly larger fighter craft shaped like elliptical discs. Behind them, slowly moving in, were to enormous ships, each one shaped like two flattened cones, one atop the other, connected in the middle.
Meanwhile, with a new threat approaching from the port, Schofield’s ship was taking advantage of its greater maneuverability to swing around to the Doorprise’s starboard side and renew its attack.
“All remaining batteries, open fire!” Spockman commanded. “Launch all remaining Vipers!”
Arthur Dent resisted the urge to say, “So this is it, we’re going to die.” An, “I’ve got a bad feeling about this,” did manage to escape his lips, however.
“So do I, Mr. Dent,” Spockman said. He turned to look at Philia, his wife of barely a month. He felt sad for the time that they would not have together. “But I’ll be damned if they don’t get us without one hell of a fight!”
“Well,” Schofield commented. “Baltar is definitely keeping up his end of the bargain. During our post-repair shakedown, we helped him take out the last one of these ‘battlestar’ ships in his home universe, and now he’s helping us take down the first one of them in ours.”
“Poetic, isn’t (dramatic pause) it?”
They both laughed.
The battle continued. Fighters on both sides disappeared in small balls of flame. Parts of the Doorprise were aflame, but she continued fighting fiercely. One of the basestars got too close and paid the price. It became covered in explosions and began to fall into the atmosphere.
The other basestar was being more cautious, but the surrounding space was still full of Cylon raiders, and the number of Vipers was dwindling rapidly. Meanwhile, Schofield’s ship continued to unleash its own destructive power.
A group of raiders managed to break through the wall of Vipers and headed towards the Doorprise at full speed. The group split in two, one headed towards the port landing bay and the other towards the starboard. “Doorprise death squadron, attack,” the commanding Cylon of the group commanded.
The raiders flew into the landing bay, weapons blazing, on a mad kamikaze run.
Explosions riddled the Doorprise, spreading throughout the ship. At the last moment, before her death throws managed to consume her completely, Doorprise managed to turn towards Schofield’s starship and accelerate.
The two ships collided and disappeared in a ball of flame that quickly extinguished in the cold vacuum of space.
Baltar swivelled his throne to face the door to the room as he heard it open and close.
“The battle is over,” Lucifer said to him.
“And we are victorious!”
“Victorious?” Lucifer enquired. “Our other basestar destroyed, as well as the spacecraft of our ally?”
“Yes, but we survive, and there is nothing else on this planet that can stop us. Contact Snarfinkle, and prepare our troops for landing at his designated coordinates.”
“By your command, Baltar.”
“The Battlestar Doorprise is gone,” Number Six reported. “Sensors show a number of landing craft are being launched from the remaining basestar.”
“Headed here?” Kenny asked.
“No,” Number Six responded. “They seem to be headed for Europe and Asia.”
“What is he up to? I thought his objective was to take us out,” Becker said.
Kenny decided to do something a bit drastic yet obvious. He wanted answers, he would go to the source. He picked up the World Super Genius Hotline.
“Ah, heelow, Peendreall. Aye vaz vondeering ven yoo voold cahll!”
Kenny sighed. “You’ve wiped out all of Springfield, killing probably a couple a hundred thousand people in the process, including almost every friend I have. Do you think you could at least do me the favor of dropping the accent?”
Snarfinkle laughed. “I see I’m finally getting to you. Very well. What can I do for you?”
“I don’t suppose, ‘Please stop this madness?’ would work?”
“No, I don’t suppose it would.”
“What exactly is your plan? It seems obvious you want me out of the way, so why land ships in Europe and Asia?”
“What do you take me for, some kind of Bond villain who is going to tell you all of my plans so that you can find a way of obverting them?”
“I didn’t expect it would be that easy, no,” Kenny assured his opponent.
“Of course, since there is nothing you can do to stop me at this point, I may as well tell you. I’m conquering this planet and placing it under my control. And my first step is to wipe out every other living being on the Earth.”
Kenny paused. “Um... Isn’t that a bit drastic? Who are you supposed to rule over?”
Snarfinkle laughed. “You naïve fool. I’d have thought with your intellect only second to mine that you would have been able to suss that one out for yourself.”
“Other dimensions. You’re going to repopulate from other dimensions with people who will be agreeable to your plans.”
“Precisely!” Snarfinkle said. “Take our friend Baltar for example. He knew that once he took out the Galactica his Cylon friends would have no reason for keeping him alive. A world with such people as its leaders, with me as the ultimate authority... Can you imagine it?”
“I’d prefer not to,” Kenny admitted.
“Well, tough. That world is to be our reality. I can be a kind master, if I choose to be. So I offer you this choice. Leave this dimension and never return. Otherwise you will die.”
“I don’t think so,” Kenny responded adamantly.
“Well, then. Give my regards to Saruman and his Uruk-Hai. They should be there within the hour.”
Kenny hung up the phone as it seemed to be the only way to silence the laughter that then came from it.
“So, what resources do we have left?” Becker asked.
Kenny looked around the table. Gathered there was himself, Becker, Number Six, Nicole, Luke, and Swett. “Well, there is the six of us, and whatever is in the Laboratory.”
“If only we had kept more people here,” Luke commented.
“My overconfidence again.” Kenny cursed himself. “Putting all of my eggs in one battlestar.”
“Anything with an offensive capability?” Number Six asked, moving the conversation forward.
“Nothing obvious. I have plenty of items that have power sources that could be set to overload, but that should be a last resort.”
“What if we use your perfection thingy? Turn everyone in the world into the perfect version of themselves?” Becker asked.
“I think not,” Kenny said. “When I accidentally did the opposite, and turned the world into the ultimate imperfect version, remember what happened to Kirstin?”
Nicole tried to suppress a flinch at her sister’s name.
“She didn’t become evil,” Kenny continued, “like most of the rest of the world. But she did become a neurotic mess of cleanliness. While Kirstin is good to her core, it still found negative aspects to enhance. And I suspect that many of Snarfinkle’s minions, and I fear Snarfinkle himself, are evil to the core.”
“So perfecting the world will just bring out the best in their worst?” Swett asked.
Kenny nodded. “Indeed.” He sighed. “I just need more time to think...”
The six of them became aware of a noise that had been gradually growing for some time – a rhythmic thumping noise that might be caused by the marching of a force ten thousand strong. “Something tells me this is a bad thing,” Swett commented.
Kenny looked at each of the five people with him. “You need to get out of here,” he announced.
“What are you talking about?” Becker asked.
“The five of you can take the Edsel and escape.”
“And what about you?” Nicole asked.
“I have to stay here,” Kenny said. “I have to work as long as I can hold out to stop Snarfinkle.”
“And if you can’t?”
“I don’t know how things can get any worse, but I can’t take the chance that Snarfinkle might find anything of use in my Laboratory. I’ll have to set the auto-destruct.”
“But you’ll die,” Nicole whispered.
“My penance for not saving the world,” Kenny responded.
“No! We’re not leaving you!” Becker exclaimed. “You and I are a team! If you won’t leave with us, then I am staying with you!”
“Number Six?” Kenny asked.
The former secret agent took Kenny’s meaning. He reached into his sport jacket and withdrew a small firearm. “I’m sorry gentlemen and lady, but I must insist that you get into the car as instructed.”
“I can’t believe you’d shoot us,” Nicole said.
Number Six shot Nicole, Swett, and Luke. They crumpled to the floor in turn. Number Six turned the gun on Becker.
“Don’t worry, old chap. Tranquilizer gun,” Number Six assured him. “Now, I can shoot you, too, but you do have the most experience driving that interdimensional car and I could also use help getting your unconscious friends into the vehicle. Are we going to be a good boy, then?”
Becker nodded.
“There’s a good lad.”
Within ten minutes, the Edsel was gone and Kenny was alone.
Alone as he was before Becker had become his assistant.
Alone as he was before he met Matt and the Garden Snakes and found their acceptance and friendship.
Alone as he was when he came into this world.
Alone was how he was going to die.
As he listened to the sound of the Uruk-Hai burrowing into the ground to unearth his Laboratory, Kenny followed the fate of the rest of the world with morbid interest on his computer monitor. There should have been some way for him to stop this. He should have been able to stop this. But he didn’t, and as penance he would bear witness to it for as long as possible before he had no choice but to blow his Laboratory sky high, killing himself but hopefully taking the Uruk-Hai with him.
Hell, he’d already decided to use the more drastic of his auto-destructs. The safer method involved a controlled shut-down of the Laboratory’s power stations while strategically placed explosive bolts collapsed the cave system the Laboratory was constructed in crushing and burying everything inside. The more drastic method... Well, that was as simple as overloading the power source.
Of course, with what he was using for a power source... Three cold fusion reactors and the backup U-232 nuclear reactor overloading would probably take most of eastern North America out when they blew. With that thought, Kenny reflected that hope didn’t enter into it when it came to taking out the Uruk-Hai. But he would hope that while Snarfinkle would have removed himself from Western Massachusetts to escape Schofield’s orbital bombardment, he still might be in the auto-destruct’s blast radius. At the very least, it would mean a heck of a lot less real estate for Snarfinkle to rule over.
Kenny watched on his screen as countless cities across the globe fell, to the Cylons, to the Bugrum, to the Ekosians. Even a few other dark forces that Kenny did not immediately recognize. Snarfinkle had certainly been busy in his recruitment.
The digging drew closer. It wouldn’t be much longer. Kenny began to deactivate the reactor safeties. And with a sudden flash of light, the Edsel reappeared.
Kenny looked at it, angry. He had wanted them all to live. The door opened, and Becker, the sole occupant, stepped out.
“Why?” Kenny asked.
“We are a team,” Becker responded. “Don’t worry, though, I got everyone else to safety. Nicole, Swett, and Becker I left at Nanami’s in El-Hazard. Number Six I dropped off in his London where he seemed hopeful he might finally be able to expose The Village. But after that, I had to come back for you. I couldn’t let you face this alone.”
Kenny shook his head, but smiled despite everything. “You had to pick now to not do exactly what I ask of you?”
“Well, there was also that time with the door,” Becker joked.
Kenny was confused. “Door? What door?”
“Oh, I could have sworn I’d mentioned it to you. It was the first time you sent me through time. You told me to make sure I closed the door to the lab? I was in such a hurry to get back that I may not have closed it all the way. But no harm, eh? Just a door.”
“This shouldn’t be happening,” Kenny said.
“I know, tell me about it. About to be done in by Tolkien.”
“No,” Kenny said, suddenly grabbing Becker by the arms and shaking him excitedly. “Don’t you get it? None of this should be happening! We’re living in a paradox! You left the door to the Laboratory open! The very same door that you first entered through! The one that should not have been open! You let your own past self into here! And that paradox set this whole chain of events into motion!”
“Wait a moment,” Becker said, “are you saying this is all my fault?”
“Yes. No! Um, it isn’t important. What is important is that this gives us a chance to fix this!”
“How?”
“You have to go back and close that door.”
“Didn’t you once warn me that going back in time to stop an event in which we were directly involved would cause a paradox that would destroy the Universe?”
“Very good, Mr. Becker.” Kenny smiled. “You were paying attention. Now think: What is different about our current situation?”
Becker did think about it for a moment. The two stood in what would have been silence except for the digging sound getting horribly closer.
“Oh, I know. We’re not going to cause a paradox because we are in fact repairing a paradox!”
Kenny couldn’t have been prouder. “I see the time we have spent together has not been wasted on you. I am glad.”
“I must be doing something right to make a genius proud of me.”
“Go get the Edsel prepped. I just need to get one thing ready.”
“Sure thing.”
A few minutes later, Kenny ejected a holographic memory disc (and people think these new DVD’s are so hot?) from his computer, slipped it into a case, attached a small electronic device onto the case, and started for the Edsel.
Becker watched him approach. The noise from the Uruk-Hai was almost right on top of them now. No... It was too late!
A huge hole appeared in the ceiling high above them as the rock layer between the tunneling Uruk-Hai and the Laboratory’s ceiling became too thin. A few of the Uruks were caught in the collapse and fell to their deaths. Others quickly lowered ropes down and dropped on the ropes into the Laboratory.
Kenny ran towards the Edsel. One of the Uruks raised a nasty looking bow, arrow already cocked in it.
There was a nasty thudding sound just as Kenny reached Becker. Kenny stopped and looked down at his chest. “Huh,” he said as he noticed the arrowhead sticking out through it. He collapsed to his knees.
“Kenny!”
Kenny weakly held the disk up to Becker. “Leave this... for... my past... self...”
As Becker took hold of the disc, Kenny’s remaining strength left him and he fell to the floor of the Laboratory, dead.
No!” Becker yelled. “No, no, no!” For an instant, his instinct was to charge the Uruk-Hai. But reason, and second arrow that just narrowly missed his head, told him that that would be suicide. He quickly got into the Edsel, set the coordinates, and left.
11 January 1998. To think that only about 10 or 11 weeks had passed since then, but it seemed a lifetime ago to Becker since the first day he had entered Kenny’s Laboratory. Most of it had been worth it. But not what had recently happened. So much death. Everyone Becker knew was dead.
It could not be allowed to happen.
Becker had parked the Edsel a few streets over from Kenny’s house and walked the rest of the way. It seemed almost surreal to see all of the houses around him still standing, the people in this world blissfully unaware of the fate that might be in store for them. The fate he had to stop.
He reached Kenny’s house. A couple of bicycles were parked outside. He walked around to the corner of the house and ducked around the side to watch and wait.
Roughly half an hour later, Bill Hughes, Mike Quadrozzi, Kirstin Porter, and Matthew Atanian exited the house. About the same time, Mrs. Quadrozzi pulled up in her car and offered Hughes a ride home, too. Then Matt and Kirstin got on their bikes and started for their respective domiciles.
Then Becker saw the damndest thing. He saw himself exit the house. This would have been only a bit odd, as he had seen his own past self once before. What made this especially odd was that the past self he was watching was the one that had seen a past self, and in fact he could see the past‑er self of himself as well, about to be narrowly missed by Mrs. Quadrozzi’s car. This older, wiser Becker reflected that maybe it hadn’t have been the best idea to be walking in the middle of the street with headphones on.
Yet time travel made his head hurt worse then headphones ever could.
“Mr. Becker, where are you?” It was hard for Becker not to respond, but of course his Kenny was gone. This was the other Becker’s Kenny. The other Becker looked at the walkie-talkie he was holding. “You should probably be starting back soon.”
“I’m standing just outside the house,” past Becker responded. “I just had to look outside and see if anything was different.”
Becker slapped himself in the forehead. What the hell had I been thinking back then? he asked himself. It was only a few hours for crying out loud. Not like I’d see a pterodactyl or something.
“I really think you should get back here. If I’m right, your past self should be arriving at my house any minute.”
Becker saw himself glance down the road in either direction and notice the third Becker making his way randomly in the direction of Kenny’s house. “I think I’ll come back now,” past Becker said as he went back inside.
Becker new he had to act fast. There was a very narrow window between past Becker’s going into the house and past‑er Becker’s doing so. He snuck into the house just before past‑er Becker turned away from the distraction of Mrs. Quadrozzi’s car just in time to see the door to the Laboratory almost close.
Becker walked up to the door and closed it.
As the auto locks began engaging, he walked into the kitchen and placed the holographic memory disc down on the counter. The last of the locks engaged, Becker sighed, and he vanished into the nothingness of a timeline that should never have been.
Jon Becker was walking down the road minding his own business, listening to a new CD he’d gotten for Christmas. It was a PlayStation game he’d gotten from Matt Swett. What he was listening to would sound to most people like that annoying loud screech that you get when you put any kind of computer CD into an audio CD player… but to Becker it sounded like sweet, sweet music.
Cars careened wildly by honking their horns madly as they swerved like mad to avoid hitting the young man. Becker, who was still walking down the middle of the road, noticed none of this. His eyes were closed so that he could concentrate on his music without visual distraction.
He felt a whoosh of a fast moving object going closely by him and he opened his eyes to see what it was. His next words were not at all polite as he noticed a car heading right for him.
He leapt out of the way, most annoyed when his sudden movement caused his player to skip, and came to a halt near a rather ordinary looking house. A flash of movement in the house’s doorway caught his attention, but when he looked he saw nothing there.
He then noticed two bicycles down the road riding away, and was somewhat surprised to recognize the riders as Kirstin Porter and Matt Atanian. He was about to call out to them, but they turned a corner and disappeared.
He looked back at the house.
It was perfectly average looking in every respect, except that the yard seemed a little too neat… but still something about it intrigued him.
Kenny smiled as he recalled the day’s events thus far. It had been a rather interesting one. Most productive.
The device had worked as well as could be expected, and with some minor adjustments the remote control would be able to function flawlessly. No more random jumps.
The only thing he still needed to work on was a better power source. After all, they had almost been killed when they were stuck on the Red Dwarf. What could he possibly do to prevent that?
He had an idea. He took out the remote and pressed a button. A few minutes later, the Macross Valkyrie had reformed before him. As soon as it had solidified, he was inside it, examining its power source.
“This is perfect!” he exclaimed. If he’d been a lesser person, he’d be drooling with delight. “A few modifications to this design and I can integrate it into the remote’s existing configuration with little difficulty! Now, where did I put that hydrospanner?” He looked around a bit. “Oh, there it is.”
Becker looked around the house a tiny bit, especially interested in a large door covered in locks. Alas, as might be expected, it was locked and would not budge. After a moment, it occurred to him that maybe it wasn’t the best idea to be in a strange house without permission, and so he left.
Maybe he’d pick up some new batteries on the way home.
That night Kenny came up from the Laboratory and went to the kitchen to prepare some dinner for himself. The sight that greeted him when he entered the kitchen perplexed him. “What is this doing here?” he asked, picking up the disc. A small electronic device attached to the disc’s case caught his eye. “And why is there a temporal stabilizer on here, unless...”
Hunger momentarily forgotten, he took the disc to a remote computer terminal set up in his bedroom. After he slipped the disc into the disc drive, a video started playing on the screen. He was not surprised to see his own face.
“Hello, Kenneth. This is you, speaking to you from the future. Before you worry about my changing the timeline, rest assured that it was a future that was never supposed to happen. Things have been set to right, and the proper timeline restored. Hence...”
“Hence the stabilizer,” Kenny said in unison with his video self.
The video continued. “Contained on this disc are your journals for the time period that has been negated. Just as those who forget history are doomed to repeat it, I fear that even with history back on the proper course, there are things you should be cautious of if this fate is to be avoided entirely. Trust me, it is a fate worth risking light contamination to the time stream for.
“My strongest warning to you would be to watch out for one named Professor Snarfinkle, alias Len Nakrifs. Do not under any circumstances let this person have any access to the Laboratory or any of our research materials.
“On the other hand, there is one who I would recommend you allow access. Read the journals. I trust your intellect. You will know the proper thing to do.”
Three days later, after the Boy Scout meeting had drawn to a close and Becker had had his fill of post-meeting socializing, he headed towards the car of his waiting parent. Just as he was about to get in, someone cleared their throat behind him.
Becker turned. Kenny was standing there.
“Hello, Mr. Becker,” Kenny said.
Becker tugged off one side of his headphones. “Kenny, what’s up?”
“I was wondering... um, would you like to come over this weekend?”
“Sure!” Becker responded.
“Great.” Kenny held out a piece of paper, upon which was written, in very neat script, an address.
“Why does this address seem familiar?” Becker wondered aloud.
Kenny turned and headed towards his own ride, which had just arrived. “You’ll figure it out,” he said.
Becker got into his parent’s car and closed the door. “Weird kid, but good,” he said as he slipped the headphones back fully on. He had nothing better to do this weekend, though, so he’d go. You never know, it could be fun.
The day had started so well. In the morning, Kenny had received a progress report on the construction of the new starship. In the afternoon, he had finally located in which dimension Nicole and Jason had been trapped. That evening, there had been a happy reunion at the scout meeting.
Nicole, the last surviving Porter sister, ran behind them. A few other survivors who had managed to escape were there, too. Luke Walker. Matt Swett. Hopefully they weren’t the only ones, but who knew?
Kenny led the way to a dark blue minivan that was suddenly pulling into the parking lot of the former church. It came to a stop before them and the side door swung open. “Get in, quick!” Kenny commanded as another bolt of destruction came out of the sky. This one missed the remains of the church, instead hitting a house across the street. Swett swore. It had been his house.
They all got into the van, and Becker noticed that it seemed to be computer controlled. This came as no surprise to Becker. During his association with the young genius, Becker had never observed Kenny to have anything resembling a parent or guardian. So why should he have expected to find someone flesh and blood to be driving the van that picked Kenny up every week?
“Van, home,” Kenny commanded, “Laboratory entrance.”
Becker looked at the others sitting in the van as it swerved its way down the remains of the road. Kenny seemed calm and in control, but Becker couldn’t help but wonder if that was really the case. Indeed, Swett and Luke seemed to be in something of a state of shock, sitting quietly and looking straight ahead. Becker was rather surprised that he wasn’t in such a state, himself. Perhaps it hadn’t just caught up to him yet.
The real surprise to him was Nicole. Nicole, usually the most unflappable of the Porter sisters. The one who stayed “all business” no matter what else was going on around her.
Nicole was crying.
Becker reached over to her and placed a hand on her shoulder. She looked up in his direction, but didn’t seem to notice him for a moment. Then her eyes focused. “B... Becker,” she said, sniffling. “They’re gone. My... my sisters, Jason... Oh, god, Jason! He’d hate that his last words were such a terrible pun!”
Just before the attack came, Jason and Nicole had been telling the Garden Snake Patrol about their adventures in El-Hazard. When Nicole had chided Jason for getting drunk and hitting on the fire priestess Shayla-Shayla, Jason apologized and said he didn’t understand how he could do such a thing, pausing before adding, “After all, I’ve always been more of an Afura man.”
“I don’t know,” Becker said in a weak attempt to comfort Nicole. “Having read a bit of the stuff that Jason’s written, I think he’d have liked to go out on a bad pun.”
Although her tears did not stop, Nicole did smile weakly. She then punched Becker in the arm.
“Ow!”
“Thanks,” Nicole then said. Then she turned away from Becker, and her crying continued.
The makeshift group walked into the Laboratory. It was already a buzz of activity, many of the operatives Kenny and Becker had gathered over the last month running from station to station. Fenchurch came over and led Nicole, Luke, and Swett off to freshen up.
Kenny was greeted at the entryway by his head of information gathering, Number Six. (Becker had asked the man what his real name was, but he seemed oddly unsure, although he did take a moment to proclaim that he was not a number, he was a free man!)
“Mr. Pendrell,” he said, “we have a situation.”
“That is an understatement. Half of Springfield has been taken out by orbital bombardment. The church, my house... good thing the Laboratory is secure underground!”
“The computer scans indicate that the cause is an orbital bombardment originating from a ship matching the description of the one Mr. Yung and Mr. Proctor secured for Snarfinkle in the same universe you encountered Captain Spockman.”
“They got a space ship?” Becker exclaimed. “Why did they wait a month to attack?”
“You remember how the dimensional transference irreparably damaged the Doorprise,” Kenny reminded Becker. “My guess is that Schofield’s ship suffered similar damage, but not as bad. Probably took them this long to effect repairs.”
“Good thing you’re smarter,” Becker said. “In the time it took to repair their ship, you built a whole new one.”
The trio of Kenny, Becker, and Number Six had reached the main computer terminal, where Spockman was already standing. “It certainly is a different ship,” Spockman commented as he pulled up a schematic.
“Well, I kept the name “Doorprise” for you,” Kenny said. “But it’s the Battlestar Doorprise.”
“Like I said, certainly a different ship,” Spockman repeated. “Although I agree with you that the increased armament and fighter capacity (What did you call them, Vipers?) will come in handy in a battle situation. It’ll just take some getting used to.
“Too bad Matt is gone,” Becker reflected. “A match up between a battlestar and a Star Trek type ship. It’d be a sci-fi fan’s wet dream.”
“I had been hoping that it wouldn’t come to a battle,” Kenny responded. “I have always believed in peace. But this attack must be answered. Matt and the others... Mike, Aaron, Gelinas, Billy, Sarah,” Kenny choked up slightly as he said one last name, “Kirstin.... they will be avenged.”
The Laboratory shook around them and some dust fell from the ceiling as another bombardment began.
“Well,” Spockman said, “I suppose I have a ship to get launched then.”
“Captain, sensors are detecting something launching from beneath the Atlantic Ocean.”
“Another one of that planet’s pathetic missile attacks?” Schofield laughed. Flirt joined him. For once, Justy was silent.
Justy stood looking at the baton in his hand. The end of it was coated with a sticky, red liquid. At his feet was the source of the liquid.
Proctor.
He lay on the floor, his skin pale, his head surrounded by a pool of blood.
“Reepares arre finuhally cumpleete?” Snarfinkle asked from the main viewscreen.
“Yes, Lord Snarfinkle,” Schofield replied. “Our test run was a success. This ship is better then it ever was.”
“Eexcelleent. Aye tyre of zis game of escaleeting tenzion wiz Peendreall. You arre to come oot frum yoour hieding plaze beehiend ze moon. Aye have remooved myeself to a zecure locashun, zo yoou may ztart by obleeterating Vezrtoon Mazachoozits!”
The screen went blank.
Proctor blinked and spoke to Justy. “I’m sorry, sir, what did he say?”
Justy laughed. “Yes, the end of the Garden Snakes is at hand!”
“Um... Obliterate sounds kind of severe, doesn’t it sir?” Proctor glanced at his master. “I mean, they’re our friends! Everyone in the troop! And the girl
scouts! And your parents! How am I supposed to eat your peas for you if your mother isn’t around to cook them for you?”
“Silence, peon!” Justy exclaimed.
“No!” Proctor shouted, surprising even himself.
“Yes!”
“No, I will not be silent! You’ve gone too far, sir! This is too much! We can’t do this, it isn’t right! You can’t rule over everyone if they’re dead!”
“Justy (dramatic pause),” Flirt, standing beside Schofield’s chair, said. “Take care of (dramatic pause) your minion.”
“Proctor, go to your room... er, your quarters!”
“No, sir! I will not permit this!”
“Helm,” Schofield commanded. “Move us into geosynchronous orbit over Western Massachusetts.”
“You,” Justy said coldly, pausing long enough to give Flirt a run for his money. “You will not permit this? And who are you?”
Proctor suddenly raised his shoulders and looked directly at Justy. “I am Hecubus Proctor, loyal servant to Lord God Justy Yung. I will do anything for you, sir, even if it is saving you from yourself!”
Schofield turned his chair to face the two Boy Scouts. “Yung, take care of this before I call security to remove you both to an airlock.”
“Orbit as ordered, sir.”
“Sir,” Proctor pleaded. “Please, we have to put a stop to this before it is too late.”
Justy gripped the baton in his hands.
“Please. They are our friends.”
“First target is the structure known as The Church in the Acres. Fire on my command.”
“I have no friends,” Justy said, raising the baton.
Proctor looked quizzically into Justy’s eyes. “Sir...?”
Justy looked down at the body before him. He sunk to his knees. His lip twitched slightly. He wanted to laugh, but he couldn’t.
Schofield had turned in his chair again to look at Justy. “Call security and have those two removed from the bridge,” he scoffed. “Brig, morgue, airlock. I don’t care. Let them know they can be creative.”
Somewhere, in the back of his mind, Justy vaguely heard this. But he didn’t care. Nothing mattered anymore.
A short time later security had come and gone and the only evidence of Justy and Proctor was a pool of blood and an abandoned baton lying beside it.
“Sir, the launch from the Atlantic is not another missile attack. Sensors now detecting some sort of ship on an intercept course.”
“It can’t be (dramatic pause) the Doorprise,” Flirt remarked.
“No,” Schofield agreed, “she was destroyed. Hell, we used some of the orbital debris in our own repairs. Is it in visual range?”
“Aye, sir.”
An image displayed on the main viewer. It was an image of a battlestar, the name “Doorprise” displayed prominently on the side of the landing deck.
Schofield and Flirt laughed. “Oh, this is just perfect! Spockman got himself a new ship. Little does he know that we know how to deal with ships like that. Open a channel to our backup fleet.”
“Yes, what is it?” a man who now appeared on the screen asked. He had a sinister and calculating look in his eyes, had dark hair that was starting to grey, wore dark clothing, and seemed to be sitting on a throne-like chair upon a large pedestal.
“We may need to pull you into play sooner then we expected.”
“Good. I tire of sitting behind this moon. What is the situation?”
Schofield turned to his communications officer. “Relay our sensor data.”
After a few moments, the man on the viewscreen chuckled madly. “Oh, you cannot be serious!”
“A problem?” Schofield asked.
“Far from it,” the man said. “This will be glorious!”
“Well, we wouldn’t want to tip our hand too soon. Await my word, then come out and strike.”
The man seemed very amused with himself as he replied, “By your command.”
The man’s image disappeared from the screen, replaced by that of the approaching battlestar.
Schofield looked to Flirt, and then back to the screen. “Glorious, indeed.”
“Coming within range of the enemy starship,” Philia reported.
Spockman paced the command deck. Past Doorprises had command chairs. He missed his chair. He’d have to speak to Kenny when this was over. But there were more important matters now. “Prepare to launch the first wave of Vipers.”
Fenchurch got busy. “Core Control to Launch Bay Alpha. Stand by to launch fighter probe.”
“Acknowledge input,” the lead Viper pilot responded. “Recorded and functioning.”
“Vector coordinates coded and transferred,” Fenchurch continued. “Acknowledge.”
“Acknowledged. Ready to launch.”
“Core systems transferring control to probe craft. Launch when ready.”
On either side of the great battlestar, small, one man fighters began to fly out at top speed, and headed straight for Schofield’s starship.
“Now is where the fun begins,” Spockman commented. “While we have superior numbers and firepower, their ship has shields while all we have is an armored hull.”
“And while we do have the Vipers swarming about,” John said, “their ship is more maneuverable then ours.”
As if on cue, the ship shook from a phaser impact.
“Damn. Positive shield, now!” Spockman commanded. A large blast shield began to lower over the forward viewport. Spockman turned to John. “Have I ever told you how reassuring a presence you can be?”
“I do my best.”
“Glad to hear it.” Spockman turned towards Arthur and Matt. “Swing us around so that our port side is to them, and then have port side batteries open fire.”
“Aye, sir.”
“Schofield’s ship is taking some damage,” Philia reported. “They can’t keep up with all of the Vipers. Their shields are weakening.”
The battlestar shook from another impact. “Just hold out a little longer, people,” Spockman encouraged.
“They’re starting to back off!” Philia said.
“So soon? What is their shield strength at?”
“Estimate 37%.”
“Weakened to be sure, but not yet out. He wouldn’t give up so easily, unless...”
“Sir!” Philia interrupted. “I’m detecting two large vessels and hundreds of smaller ships coming from the direction of Earth’s moon!”
“What?” Spockman exclaimed. “Negative shield, now!”
The blast shield retracted from the viewport and Spockman looked through it. The Vipers that had previously been swarming around Schofield’s starship were now engaged with and outnumbered by slightly larger fighter craft shaped like elliptical discs. Behind them, slowly moving in, were to enormous ships, each one shaped like two flattened cones, one atop the other, connected in the middle.
Meanwhile, with a new threat approaching from the port, Schofield’s ship was taking advantage of its greater maneuverability to swing around to the Doorprise’s starboard side and renew its attack.
“All remaining batteries, open fire!” Spockman commanded. “Launch all remaining Vipers!”
Arthur Dent resisted the urge to say, “So this is it, we’re going to die.” An, “I’ve got a bad feeling about this,” did manage to escape his lips, however.
“So do I, Mr. Dent,” Spockman said. He turned to look at Philia, his wife of barely a month. He felt sad for the time that they would not have together. “But I’ll be damned if they don’t get us without one hell of a fight!”
“Well,” Schofield commented. “Baltar is definitely keeping up his end of the bargain. During our post-repair shakedown, we helped him take out the last one of these ‘battlestar’ ships in his home universe, and now he’s helping us take down the first one of them in ours.”
“Poetic, isn’t (dramatic pause) it?”
They both laughed.
The battle continued. Fighters on both sides disappeared in small balls of flame. Parts of the Doorprise were aflame, but she continued fighting fiercely. One of the basestars got too close and paid the price. It became covered in explosions and began to fall into the atmosphere.
The other basestar was being more cautious, but the surrounding space was still full of Cylon raiders, and the number of Vipers was dwindling rapidly. Meanwhile, Schofield’s ship continued to unleash its own destructive power.
A group of raiders managed to break through the wall of Vipers and headed towards the Doorprise at full speed. The group split in two, one headed towards the port landing bay and the other towards the starboard. “Doorprise death squadron, attack,” the commanding Cylon of the group commanded.
The raiders flew into the landing bay, weapons blazing, on a mad kamikaze run.
Explosions riddled the Doorprise, spreading throughout the ship. At the last moment, before her death throws managed to consume her completely, Doorprise managed to turn towards Schofield’s starship and accelerate.
The two ships collided and disappeared in a ball of flame that quickly extinguished in the cold vacuum of space.
Baltar swivelled his throne to face the door to the room as he heard it open and close.
“The battle is over,” Lucifer said to him.
“And we are victorious!”
“Victorious?” Lucifer enquired. “Our other basestar destroyed, as well as the spacecraft of our ally?”
“Yes, but we survive, and there is nothing else on this planet that can stop us. Contact Snarfinkle, and prepare our troops for landing at his designated coordinates.”
“By your command, Baltar.”
“The Battlestar Doorprise is gone,” Number Six reported. “Sensors show a number of landing craft are being launched from the remaining basestar.”
“Headed here?” Kenny asked.
“No,” Number Six responded. “They seem to be headed for Europe and Asia.”
“What is he up to? I thought his objective was to take us out,” Becker said.
Kenny decided to do something a bit drastic yet obvious. He wanted answers, he would go to the source. He picked up the World Super Genius Hotline.
“Ah, heelow, Peendreall. Aye vaz vondeering ven yoo voold cahll!”
Kenny sighed. “You’ve wiped out all of Springfield, killing probably a couple a hundred thousand people in the process, including almost every friend I have. Do you think you could at least do me the favor of dropping the accent?”
Snarfinkle laughed. “I see I’m finally getting to you. Very well. What can I do for you?”
“I don’t suppose, ‘Please stop this madness?’ would work?”
“No, I don’t suppose it would.”
“What exactly is your plan? It seems obvious you want me out of the way, so why land ships in Europe and Asia?”
“What do you take me for, some kind of Bond villain who is going to tell you all of my plans so that you can find a way of obverting them?”
“I didn’t expect it would be that easy, no,” Kenny assured his opponent.
“Of course, since there is nothing you can do to stop me at this point, I may as well tell you. I’m conquering this planet and placing it under my control. And my first step is to wipe out every other living being on the Earth.”
Kenny paused. “Um... Isn’t that a bit drastic? Who are you supposed to rule over?”
Snarfinkle laughed. “You naïve fool. I’d have thought with your intellect only second to mine that you would have been able to suss that one out for yourself.”
“Other dimensions. You’re going to repopulate from other dimensions with people who will be agreeable to your plans.”
“Precisely!” Snarfinkle said. “Take our friend Baltar for example. He knew that once he took out the Galactica his Cylon friends would have no reason for keeping him alive. A world with such people as its leaders, with me as the ultimate authority... Can you imagine it?”
“I’d prefer not to,” Kenny admitted.
“Well, tough. That world is to be our reality. I can be a kind master, if I choose to be. So I offer you this choice. Leave this dimension and never return. Otherwise you will die.”
“I don’t think so,” Kenny responded adamantly.
“Well, then. Give my regards to Saruman and his Uruk-Hai. They should be there within the hour.”
Kenny hung up the phone as it seemed to be the only way to silence the laughter that then came from it.
“So, what resources do we have left?” Becker asked.
Kenny looked around the table. Gathered there was himself, Becker, Number Six, Nicole, Luke, and Swett. “Well, there is the six of us, and whatever is in the Laboratory.”
“If only we had kept more people here,” Luke commented.
“My overconfidence again.” Kenny cursed himself. “Putting all of my eggs in one battlestar.”
“Anything with an offensive capability?” Number Six asked, moving the conversation forward.
“Nothing obvious. I have plenty of items that have power sources that could be set to overload, but that should be a last resort.”
“What if we use your perfection thingy? Turn everyone in the world into the perfect version of themselves?” Becker asked.
“I think not,” Kenny said. “When I accidentally did the opposite, and turned the world into the ultimate imperfect version, remember what happened to Kirstin?”
Nicole tried to suppress a flinch at her sister’s name.
“She didn’t become evil,” Kenny continued, “like most of the rest of the world. But she did become a neurotic mess of cleanliness. While Kirstin is good to her core, it still found negative aspects to enhance. And I suspect that many of Snarfinkle’s minions, and I fear Snarfinkle himself, are evil to the core.”
“So perfecting the world will just bring out the best in their worst?” Swett asked.
Kenny nodded. “Indeed.” He sighed. “I just need more time to think...”
The six of them became aware of a noise that had been gradually growing for some time – a rhythmic thumping noise that might be caused by the marching of a force ten thousand strong. “Something tells me this is a bad thing,” Swett commented.
Kenny looked at each of the five people with him. “You need to get out of here,” he announced.
“What are you talking about?” Becker asked.
“The five of you can take the Edsel and escape.”
“And what about you?” Nicole asked.
“I have to stay here,” Kenny said. “I have to work as long as I can hold out to stop Snarfinkle.”
“And if you can’t?”
“I don’t know how things can get any worse, but I can’t take the chance that Snarfinkle might find anything of use in my Laboratory. I’ll have to set the auto-destruct.”
“But you’ll die,” Nicole whispered.
“My penance for not saving the world,” Kenny responded.
“No! We’re not leaving you!” Becker exclaimed. “You and I are a team! If you won’t leave with us, then I am staying with you!”
“Number Six?” Kenny asked.
The former secret agent took Kenny’s meaning. He reached into his sport jacket and withdrew a small firearm. “I’m sorry gentlemen and lady, but I must insist that you get into the car as instructed.”
“I can’t believe you’d shoot us,” Nicole said.
Number Six shot Nicole, Swett, and Luke. They crumpled to the floor in turn. Number Six turned the gun on Becker.
“Don’t worry, old chap. Tranquilizer gun,” Number Six assured him. “Now, I can shoot you, too, but you do have the most experience driving that interdimensional car and I could also use help getting your unconscious friends into the vehicle. Are we going to be a good boy, then?”
Becker nodded.
“There’s a good lad.”
Within ten minutes, the Edsel was gone and Kenny was alone.
Alone as he was before Becker had become his assistant.
Alone as he was before he met Matt and the Garden Snakes and found their acceptance and friendship.
Alone as he was when he came into this world.
Alone was how he was going to die.
As he listened to the sound of the Uruk-Hai burrowing into the ground to unearth his Laboratory, Kenny followed the fate of the rest of the world with morbid interest on his computer monitor. There should have been some way for him to stop this. He should have been able to stop this. But he didn’t, and as penance he would bear witness to it for as long as possible before he had no choice but to blow his Laboratory sky high, killing himself but hopefully taking the Uruk-Hai with him.
Hell, he’d already decided to use the more drastic of his auto-destructs. The safer method involved a controlled shut-down of the Laboratory’s power stations while strategically placed explosive bolts collapsed the cave system the Laboratory was constructed in crushing and burying everything inside. The more drastic method... Well, that was as simple as overloading the power source.
Of course, with what he was using for a power source... Three cold fusion reactors and the backup U-232 nuclear reactor overloading would probably take most of eastern North America out when they blew. With that thought, Kenny reflected that hope didn’t enter into it when it came to taking out the Uruk-Hai. But he would hope that while Snarfinkle would have removed himself from Western Massachusetts to escape Schofield’s orbital bombardment, he still might be in the auto-destruct’s blast radius. At the very least, it would mean a heck of a lot less real estate for Snarfinkle to rule over.
Kenny watched on his screen as countless cities across the globe fell, to the Cylons, to the Bugrum, to the Ekosians. Even a few other dark forces that Kenny did not immediately recognize. Snarfinkle had certainly been busy in his recruitment.
The digging drew closer. It wouldn’t be much longer. Kenny began to deactivate the reactor safeties. And with a sudden flash of light, the Edsel reappeared.
Kenny looked at it, angry. He had wanted them all to live. The door opened, and Becker, the sole occupant, stepped out.
“Why?” Kenny asked.
“We are a team,” Becker responded. “Don’t worry, though, I got everyone else to safety. Nicole, Swett, and Becker I left at Nanami’s in El-Hazard. Number Six I dropped off in his London where he seemed hopeful he might finally be able to expose The Village. But after that, I had to come back for you. I couldn’t let you face this alone.”
Kenny shook his head, but smiled despite everything. “You had to pick now to not do exactly what I ask of you?”
“Well, there was also that time with the door,” Becker joked.
Kenny was confused. “Door? What door?”
“Oh, I could have sworn I’d mentioned it to you. It was the first time you sent me through time. You told me to make sure I closed the door to the lab? I was in such a hurry to get back that I may not have closed it all the way. But no harm, eh? Just a door.”
“This shouldn’t be happening,” Kenny said.
“I know, tell me about it. About to be done in by Tolkien.”
“No,” Kenny said, suddenly grabbing Becker by the arms and shaking him excitedly. “Don’t you get it? None of this should be happening! We’re living in a paradox! You left the door to the Laboratory open! The very same door that you first entered through! The one that should not have been open! You let your own past self into here! And that paradox set this whole chain of events into motion!”
“Wait a moment,” Becker said, “are you saying this is all my fault?”
“Yes. No! Um, it isn’t important. What is important is that this gives us a chance to fix this!”
“How?”
“You have to go back and close that door.”
“Didn’t you once warn me that going back in time to stop an event in which we were directly involved would cause a paradox that would destroy the Universe?”
“Very good, Mr. Becker.” Kenny smiled. “You were paying attention. Now think: What is different about our current situation?”
Becker did think about it for a moment. The two stood in what would have been silence except for the digging sound getting horribly closer.
“Oh, I know. We’re not going to cause a paradox because we are in fact repairing a paradox!”
Kenny couldn’t have been prouder. “I see the time we have spent together has not been wasted on you. I am glad.”
“I must be doing something right to make a genius proud of me.”
“Go get the Edsel prepped. I just need to get one thing ready.”
“Sure thing.”
A few minutes later, Kenny ejected a holographic memory disc (and people think these new DVD’s are so hot?) from his computer, slipped it into a case, attached a small electronic device onto the case, and started for the Edsel.
Becker watched him approach. The noise from the Uruk-Hai was almost right on top of them now. No... It was too late!
A huge hole appeared in the ceiling high above them as the rock layer between the tunneling Uruk-Hai and the Laboratory’s ceiling became too thin. A few of the Uruks were caught in the collapse and fell to their deaths. Others quickly lowered ropes down and dropped on the ropes into the Laboratory.
Kenny ran towards the Edsel. One of the Uruks raised a nasty looking bow, arrow already cocked in it.
There was a nasty thudding sound just as Kenny reached Becker. Kenny stopped and looked down at his chest. “Huh,” he said as he noticed the arrowhead sticking out through it. He collapsed to his knees.
“Kenny!”
Kenny weakly held the disk up to Becker. “Leave this... for... my past... self...”
As Becker took hold of the disc, Kenny’s remaining strength left him and he fell to the floor of the Laboratory, dead.
No!” Becker yelled. “No, no, no!” For an instant, his instinct was to charge the Uruk-Hai. But reason, and second arrow that just narrowly missed his head, told him that that would be suicide. He quickly got into the Edsel, set the coordinates, and left.
11 January 1998. To think that only about 10 or 11 weeks had passed since then, but it seemed a lifetime ago to Becker since the first day he had entered Kenny’s Laboratory. Most of it had been worth it. But not what had recently happened. So much death. Everyone Becker knew was dead.
It could not be allowed to happen.
Becker had parked the Edsel a few streets over from Kenny’s house and walked the rest of the way. It seemed almost surreal to see all of the houses around him still standing, the people in this world blissfully unaware of the fate that might be in store for them. The fate he had to stop.
He reached Kenny’s house. A couple of bicycles were parked outside. He walked around to the corner of the house and ducked around the side to watch and wait.
Roughly half an hour later, Bill Hughes, Mike Quadrozzi, Kirstin Porter, and Matthew Atanian exited the house. About the same time, Mrs. Quadrozzi pulled up in her car and offered Hughes a ride home, too. Then Matt and Kirstin got on their bikes and started for their respective domiciles.
Then Becker saw the damndest thing. He saw himself exit the house. This would have been only a bit odd, as he had seen his own past self once before. What made this especially odd was that the past self he was watching was the one that had seen a past self, and in fact he could see the past‑er self of himself as well, about to be narrowly missed by Mrs. Quadrozzi’s car. This older, wiser Becker reflected that maybe it hadn’t have been the best idea to be walking in the middle of the street with headphones on.
Yet time travel made his head hurt worse then headphones ever could.
“Mr. Becker, where are you?” It was hard for Becker not to respond, but of course his Kenny was gone. This was the other Becker’s Kenny. The other Becker looked at the walkie-talkie he was holding. “You should probably be starting back soon.”
“I’m standing just outside the house,” past Becker responded. “I just had to look outside and see if anything was different.”
Becker slapped himself in the forehead. What the hell had I been thinking back then? he asked himself. It was only a few hours for crying out loud. Not like I’d see a pterodactyl or something.
“I really think you should get back here. If I’m right, your past self should be arriving at my house any minute.”
Becker saw himself glance down the road in either direction and notice the third Becker making his way randomly in the direction of Kenny’s house. “I think I’ll come back now,” past Becker said as he went back inside.
Becker new he had to act fast. There was a very narrow window between past Becker’s going into the house and past‑er Becker’s doing so. He snuck into the house just before past‑er Becker turned away from the distraction of Mrs. Quadrozzi’s car just in time to see the door to the Laboratory almost close.
Becker walked up to the door and closed it.
As the auto locks began engaging, he walked into the kitchen and placed the holographic memory disc down on the counter. The last of the locks engaged, Becker sighed, and he vanished into the nothingness of a timeline that should never have been.
Jon Becker was walking down the road minding his own business, listening to a new CD he’d gotten for Christmas. It was a PlayStation game he’d gotten from Matt Swett. What he was listening to would sound to most people like that annoying loud screech that you get when you put any kind of computer CD into an audio CD player… but to Becker it sounded like sweet, sweet music.
Cars careened wildly by honking their horns madly as they swerved like mad to avoid hitting the young man. Becker, who was still walking down the middle of the road, noticed none of this. His eyes were closed so that he could concentrate on his music without visual distraction.
He felt a whoosh of a fast moving object going closely by him and he opened his eyes to see what it was. His next words were not at all polite as he noticed a car heading right for him.
He leapt out of the way, most annoyed when his sudden movement caused his player to skip, and came to a halt near a rather ordinary looking house. A flash of movement in the house’s doorway caught his attention, but when he looked he saw nothing there.
He then noticed two bicycles down the road riding away, and was somewhat surprised to recognize the riders as Kirstin Porter and Matt Atanian. He was about to call out to them, but they turned a corner and disappeared.
He looked back at the house.
It was perfectly average looking in every respect, except that the yard seemed a little too neat… but still something about it intrigued him.
Kenny smiled as he recalled the day’s events thus far. It had been a rather interesting one. Most productive.
The device had worked as well as could be expected, and with some minor adjustments the remote control would be able to function flawlessly. No more random jumps.
The only thing he still needed to work on was a better power source. After all, they had almost been killed when they were stuck on the Red Dwarf. What could he possibly do to prevent that?
He had an idea. He took out the remote and pressed a button. A few minutes later, the Macross Valkyrie had reformed before him. As soon as it had solidified, he was inside it, examining its power source.
“This is perfect!” he exclaimed. If he’d been a lesser person, he’d be drooling with delight. “A few modifications to this design and I can integrate it into the remote’s existing configuration with little difficulty! Now, where did I put that hydrospanner?” He looked around a bit. “Oh, there it is.”
Becker looked around the house a tiny bit, especially interested in a large door covered in locks. Alas, as might be expected, it was locked and would not budge. After a moment, it occurred to him that maybe it wasn’t the best idea to be in a strange house without permission, and so he left.
Maybe he’d pick up some new batteries on the way home.
That night Kenny came up from the Laboratory and went to the kitchen to prepare some dinner for himself. The sight that greeted him when he entered the kitchen perplexed him. “What is this doing here?” he asked, picking up the disc. A small electronic device attached to the disc’s case caught his eye. “And why is there a temporal stabilizer on here, unless...”
Hunger momentarily forgotten, he took the disc to a remote computer terminal set up in his bedroom. After he slipped the disc into the disc drive, a video started playing on the screen. He was not surprised to see his own face.
“Hello, Kenneth. This is you, speaking to you from the future. Before you worry about my changing the timeline, rest assured that it was a future that was never supposed to happen. Things have been set to right, and the proper timeline restored. Hence...”
“Hence the stabilizer,” Kenny said in unison with his video self.
The video continued. “Contained on this disc are your journals for the time period that has been negated. Just as those who forget history are doomed to repeat it, I fear that even with history back on the proper course, there are things you should be cautious of if this fate is to be avoided entirely. Trust me, it is a fate worth risking light contamination to the time stream for.
“My strongest warning to you would be to watch out for one named Professor Snarfinkle, alias Len Nakrifs. Do not under any circumstances let this person have any access to the Laboratory or any of our research materials.
“On the other hand, there is one who I would recommend you allow access. Read the journals. I trust your intellect. You will know the proper thing to do.”
Three days later, after the Boy Scout meeting had drawn to a close and Becker had had his fill of post-meeting socializing, he headed towards the car of his waiting parent. Just as he was about to get in, someone cleared their throat behind him.
Becker turned. Kenny was standing there.
“Hello, Mr. Becker,” Kenny said.
Becker tugged off one side of his headphones. “Kenny, what’s up?”
“I was wondering... um, would you like to come over this weekend?”
“Sure!” Becker responded.
“Great.” Kenny held out a piece of paper, upon which was written, in very neat script, an address.
“Why does this address seem familiar?” Becker wondered aloud.
Kenny turned and headed towards his own ride, which had just arrived. “You’ll figure it out,” he said.
Becker got into his parent’s car and closed the door. “Weird kid, but good,” he said as he slipped the headphones back fully on. He had nothing better to do this weekend, though, so he’d go. You never know, it could be fun.
THE HUMAN ADVENTURE IS JUST BEGINNING...
Matt's Notes & Things:
Here at last, here at last. Thank Belldandy Almighty, it’s here at last!
I present to you the conclusion of Kenny’s Laboratory.
I’ve never been fond of the “reset button” cliché that is used sometimes in time travel stories, but I’d like to think that it was well earned here. It does bookend nicely, and has been the plan for quite some time. Years, in fact... But that shouldn’t be a surprise since it has been over seven years since the last one of these stories was written. (Well, by me at least. Jason Bertovich's contribution, the third story in order of chronology, came in 2005.)
God, that’s a long time. Hell, I’ve had an entire long term relationship in that time.
So I’m definitely not the same person I was last time I was here. I won’t go into many details, as this is certainly not the place, but since the relationship was mentioned in other places on this site (especially with things like her writing a story, or an in story continuity mention of a sorts with the Boy Scouts ½ Epilogue), it is worth mentioning that unfortunately my relationship with Jessica Pysz has come to an end.
Still, life must go on. Therefore, any single females living within a reasonable driving distance of Western Massachusetts who are interested in 30-something male anime / science fiction fans who live currently live in their parents’ basement, send all applications to [email protected].
Just kidding. Maybe.
On to story notes. Kind of a dark one, eh? Maybe it is a thing of spin-off finales, if Jason’s The Final Perspective is any indication. I kill off pretty much all of the “good guy” cast and a good chunk of the “bad guys,” too. Hell, I kill two different versions of Matthew Atanian. And no, this does not mean I have a death wish, just like the fact that Matty Hayes does not mean I secretly wish to be female.
I was amused that as I was writing the first mention of Captain Flirt in this story, a Priceline.com commercial came on the television. On the subject of
Flirt, although I suppose it could be amusing in small (dramatic pause) doses, I sure find his dialogue a lot more annoying to write then I once did. This, and the fact that he and Schofield are kind of redundant characters and both were kept purely for continuity reasons, is why most of the dialogue went to Schofield.
Likewise, I was finding Snarfinkle’s accent bloody annoying to write in again. Fortunately, one scene I once wrote where he was talking to his mum did give a pretty good clue that it was an affected accent, giving me an easy out to drop it.
Once upon a time, this series probably would have gone on a while longer, with Kenny and Becker going on more adventures, gathering more forces, thwarting Justy and Proctor in comedic ways in the process. Yet I could just as easily leave all of that out, and still get to the end.
Even then, I left out a plethora of gratuitous references that would have just bloated the story, like mentioning that Kenny had two medical units, both of which happened to be the 4077th M*A*S*H. (One would have been the film version, the other the television version.) Other then the big one which I shall get into in the next paragraph, the only 100% new reference I think I included here was the character of Number Six, and he did in fact have some purpose in this story, as I doubt any of the others would have left Kenny if given a choice.
Now then. So here I was. It was pretty obvious that I would have to present some sort of battle between the two forces, and since I had introduced spaceships in the previous story, it seemed like a no brainer that it would be a space battle of some sort. I suppose since I had been watching a lot of Battlestar Galactica as of late that it came as no surprise that that should creep into it. Mind you, most of what I’ve been watching was the new Galactica, and I patterned things in this story off of the old Galactica. The reason for this is that when this story takes place, new Galactica hadn’t been invented yet. Now, logically, nothing says that a parallel universe based off of new Galactica couldn’t have still existed. Still, it wouldn’t have felt right to me. Thus, I went with the classic.
Jason's final words: Way back when I wrote the story where Jason and Nicole ended up in El-Hazard, Jason gave me feedback which boiled down to, "Good story, but why did I hit on Shayla-Shayla? Afura Mann is my favorite of the Muldoon Priestesses." I just had to throw in an in story reference to this. Jason seemed to like it. His response when I gave him a sneak peak: "Dying is easy. Comedy, that's hard."
Now onto the usual stuff. Disclaimers!
This story is not endorsed by or meant to reflect the values of the Boy Scouts of America. (Although one hopes that their values would include preventing global genocide.)
Elements from the story are taken from Star Trek (both in the parody aspect from my earlier stories, and in the passing mention of Ekosians, the Nazi characters from the original series episode Patterns of Force), Battlestar Galactica, El-Hazard, The Prisoner (Number Six), and... oh, yeah. I guess Number Six wasn’t the only new reference after all. The Lord of the Rings. Obviously the novels, for similar reasons that it was the classic Battlestar. Oh, and in excerpts from Enter the Becker, I believe there was mention of Red Dwarf and Macross / Robotech. These were all used without the permission of their respective owners. Hopefully that’s everything, and I didn’t forget anything!
So, is this the end of Kenny’s Laboratory? Yes, it is. For now, at least. I will not rule out the possibility of a future sequel story. Part of me is still bloody curious what Kenny and the Juniors were up to on the west coast.
But for now... So long, farewell, auf wiedersehen, goodbye!
Additional Note From the 2013 Restoration:
Above I jokingly inquire after any females interested in filling the position of girlfriend. I never did get any replies to that... but in any event, sorry ladies! I had better luck elsewhere, so the position is filled!
I present to you the conclusion of Kenny’s Laboratory.
I’ve never been fond of the “reset button” cliché that is used sometimes in time travel stories, but I’d like to think that it was well earned here. It does bookend nicely, and has been the plan for quite some time. Years, in fact... But that shouldn’t be a surprise since it has been over seven years since the last one of these stories was written. (Well, by me at least. Jason Bertovich's contribution, the third story in order of chronology, came in 2005.)
God, that’s a long time. Hell, I’ve had an entire long term relationship in that time.
So I’m definitely not the same person I was last time I was here. I won’t go into many details, as this is certainly not the place, but since the relationship was mentioned in other places on this site (especially with things like her writing a story, or an in story continuity mention of a sorts with the Boy Scouts ½ Epilogue), it is worth mentioning that unfortunately my relationship with Jessica Pysz has come to an end.
Still, life must go on. Therefore, any single females living within a reasonable driving distance of Western Massachusetts who are interested in 30-something male anime / science fiction fans who live currently live in their parents’ basement, send all applications to [email protected].
Just kidding. Maybe.
On to story notes. Kind of a dark one, eh? Maybe it is a thing of spin-off finales, if Jason’s The Final Perspective is any indication. I kill off pretty much all of the “good guy” cast and a good chunk of the “bad guys,” too. Hell, I kill two different versions of Matthew Atanian. And no, this does not mean I have a death wish, just like the fact that Matty Hayes does not mean I secretly wish to be female.
I was amused that as I was writing the first mention of Captain Flirt in this story, a Priceline.com commercial came on the television. On the subject of
Flirt, although I suppose it could be amusing in small (dramatic pause) doses, I sure find his dialogue a lot more annoying to write then I once did. This, and the fact that he and Schofield are kind of redundant characters and both were kept purely for continuity reasons, is why most of the dialogue went to Schofield.
Likewise, I was finding Snarfinkle’s accent bloody annoying to write in again. Fortunately, one scene I once wrote where he was talking to his mum did give a pretty good clue that it was an affected accent, giving me an easy out to drop it.
Once upon a time, this series probably would have gone on a while longer, with Kenny and Becker going on more adventures, gathering more forces, thwarting Justy and Proctor in comedic ways in the process. Yet I could just as easily leave all of that out, and still get to the end.
Even then, I left out a plethora of gratuitous references that would have just bloated the story, like mentioning that Kenny had two medical units, both of which happened to be the 4077th M*A*S*H. (One would have been the film version, the other the television version.) Other then the big one which I shall get into in the next paragraph, the only 100% new reference I think I included here was the character of Number Six, and he did in fact have some purpose in this story, as I doubt any of the others would have left Kenny if given a choice.
Now then. So here I was. It was pretty obvious that I would have to present some sort of battle between the two forces, and since I had introduced spaceships in the previous story, it seemed like a no brainer that it would be a space battle of some sort. I suppose since I had been watching a lot of Battlestar Galactica as of late that it came as no surprise that that should creep into it. Mind you, most of what I’ve been watching was the new Galactica, and I patterned things in this story off of the old Galactica. The reason for this is that when this story takes place, new Galactica hadn’t been invented yet. Now, logically, nothing says that a parallel universe based off of new Galactica couldn’t have still existed. Still, it wouldn’t have felt right to me. Thus, I went with the classic.
Jason's final words: Way back when I wrote the story where Jason and Nicole ended up in El-Hazard, Jason gave me feedback which boiled down to, "Good story, but why did I hit on Shayla-Shayla? Afura Mann is my favorite of the Muldoon Priestesses." I just had to throw in an in story reference to this. Jason seemed to like it. His response when I gave him a sneak peak: "Dying is easy. Comedy, that's hard."
Now onto the usual stuff. Disclaimers!
This story is not endorsed by or meant to reflect the values of the Boy Scouts of America. (Although one hopes that their values would include preventing global genocide.)
Elements from the story are taken from Star Trek (both in the parody aspect from my earlier stories, and in the passing mention of Ekosians, the Nazi characters from the original series episode Patterns of Force), Battlestar Galactica, El-Hazard, The Prisoner (Number Six), and... oh, yeah. I guess Number Six wasn’t the only new reference after all. The Lord of the Rings. Obviously the novels, for similar reasons that it was the classic Battlestar. Oh, and in excerpts from Enter the Becker, I believe there was mention of Red Dwarf and Macross / Robotech. These were all used without the permission of their respective owners. Hopefully that’s everything, and I didn’t forget anything!
So, is this the end of Kenny’s Laboratory? Yes, it is. For now, at least. I will not rule out the possibility of a future sequel story. Part of me is still bloody curious what Kenny and the Juniors were up to on the west coast.
But for now... So long, farewell, auf wiedersehen, goodbye!
Additional Note From the 2013 Restoration:
Above I jokingly inquire after any females interested in filling the position of girlfriend. I never did get any replies to that... but in any event, sorry ladies! I had better luck elsewhere, so the position is filled!
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