Call Me Ishmael

Chapter 27

Speed kills. Slow down.

"It's the Swarm!" Finnie pointed her perfect finger at the approaching, swirling mass of Bugriders.  One of their multiple weapons was still smoking, and the Swarm-beings in it were waving their antenna in what I guessed was an agitated, excited manner. 

"By Jove," said Niles, "I thought they were all goners, what with all their brains imploding or whatever it was that happened to them."

I felt the muzzle pressed against my right temple weaken a bit, and the one on the left dropped entirely.  "Come on, Hercules," I said, "We have to unite against these bugs, or we'll all be toast.  Besides, your employer is dead.  The deal should be off."

Hercules wavered, and the Swarm cut the distance between us.  They flew in formation, weaving in and out of each other's paths, making figure-eights, and I realized what had happened.  I had been wrong.  The Swarm-mind, and the Swarm with it, had not died; it continued to work on the problem of the last digit of pi, until, incredibly, they solved it.  The last digit was eight, and they were rubbing our noses in the answer before destroying us.  Or maybe there was no answer, and their paths were the mathematical symbol for infinity.  It was difficult to be certain from our vantage point. 

Beads of sweat the size of, I swear, small lobsters, rolled down my temples.  "Come on, Herc.  Let's get together here."

The goon on the left holstered his weapon.  "I think the twerp's got a point, Bruce.  Besides, we can always waste him later."

"He kicked me."

I tried again.  "Look, Bruce, if that is your name.  I only did what I had to do.  It's not like you explained you were trying to save the multiverse by killing me.  You just hustled me into the woods.  Come on, for...for my children, Bruce."

His ugly eyes narrowed.  "After I was able to walk again, I checked on you, liar.  You're not married, and you don't have any kids.  So don't try to make me foul up this job.  It won't work."

I swallowed.  "Come on, Bruce.  Do you have kids?  How about saving the world for them?"

I lived a hundred lifetimes in the tick of a clock.  I had a feeling that some of the neurons firing in Bruce's brain were on their first go-round.  Finally, his eyes misted and he pulled his gun from my temple.  "Okay.  For my kids.  I only do what I do, just to see them smile."

I was too relieved at the time to put together Bruce's chosen profession and why that would make his children smile, but at that moment, the important thing was to keep my brains in my head.

Splice looked grim.  "That was touching.  Now what?  Do you know any other riddles, Ishmael?"

"None that will work.  I suggest we run."  I have always believed in leading by example, and so I set one.  I ran.  And everyone ran with me, although I did let Finnie pull ahead.  There was no sense in being stupid about the retreat; although I'm sure we made a curious parade.  I was still in the clothes I had woken up in, and we had been on the move through different dimensions for hours.  I was torn up and felt greasy.  Finnie looked sensational.  Somewhere along the line, she had shed the robe and was dressed only in the curtain.  How she managed to do that without my noticing was beyond me, but maybe she simply slipped into another dimension for a few moments.  Splice's tail was broken, and so it streamed behind her when she ran, but I noticed it dragged when she stopped or slowed down.  Niles' sweater was still tied around his neck in a jaunty, stylish way, and his remaining boat shoe made little smacking, flapping noises when it hit the ground.  All of us were getting more than a little shabby, and time was running out.