Blithering Genius

Blithering Genius Chapter One

Blithering Genius

Book 2 of The Other Universes

By Ubiquitous Bubba

Copyright 2014 Ubiquitous Bubba

Chapter One

Ig squinted against the bright brown light, stumbled, and dropped the hammer on his foot. He slapped a semitransparent hand over his mouth to stifle his shriek and whipped his head around to see if he’d been spotted. He hated these forays into the glaring brightness of the upper floors. His eyes were much better suited to a more comfortable and reasonable under orange. He checked his impulse to complain. Such things could come out in a post-mission review. “I know the Gartaxian knows what it’s doing,” he muttered for the benefit of any unseen listeners. “Of course, I am honored to undertake this job. I’m sure it knew how well suited I would be for this task.”

Satisfied that he had overcome any lingering unspoken doubt in his commitment to his insane mission, Ig retrieved his hammer, shielded his eyes, and crept along the hallway. “Stupid Gartaxian computer!” he fumed. “Just because my mother liked to use infrared colors in her paintings does not mean that I like such bright light! Under yellow is about as much as I can stand. Stupid computer!”

He stopped at a door labeled, “Repairs and Restoration.” After a quick glance in all directions to ensure he was unseen, Ig broke the lock and forced the door open. Ig eased inside and slid behind the counter. He paused to look through the stacks of supplies and tools along the floor before he found the grate. Ig walked to it, pausing to pick up a crowbar from a nearby shelf. He winced at the noise as the grate creaked open. Discovery at this stage would not end well.

Satisfied that no one was coming, he clipped a rope to his harness and the other end to the heavy iron grate. He checked his gear one last time, and slipped into the hole, pulling the grate closed behind him. With a soft sigh, he let out the rope and descended into the sweet comfort of the dark shaft. The sides of the shaft glimmered with a trace of under yellow. The air grew cooler and more familiar as he dropped. Rising up to meet him, the floor revealed infrared nuances, evidence of visitors no longer present.

His rope stopped less than a meter above the floor and he lay suspended, glancing in all directions. With great care, he stood and unclipped his rope. He bent down and crawled into the tunnel. Pausing a moment to make sure of his bearings, he eased his way along the access tube. As he slid through the darkness, he reviewed the next steps in the computer’s plan. For the hundredth time, he hoped all this risk was worth it.

He approached a junction and froze. At the very edge of his perception, he could make out the telltale shape and heat of an infrared sensor placed at the intersection. Holding his breath, he crept backwards. With some difficulty due to his cramped quarters, he pulled out a shiny, reflective hat and gloves. He hated wearing them. They made him feel invisible and non-existent. Stifling his reluctance, he pulled them on, fastened the hat to his collar and his gloves to his sleeves. Entombed in heat masking, reflective gear, he passed unobserved through the junction, and continued on his way.

The tunnel narrowed, making his progress more difficult. “Almost there,” he muttered, more for his observer’s benefit than his own. Slowly squirming forward, he crept deeper. Faint under orange lettering oozed from the wall. “Beware the Hair,” he read. “What is that supposed to mean?” he wondered. He paused to listen to the darkness. After a few minutes, he steeled his courage and pulled himself the last few meters towards a vent. He peered through the slotted metal grill into the room below. He saw no trace heat signatures. Gripping the vent with a pair of fingers, he pushed it out of his way. He pulled the upper half of his body through the opening, and grabbed a sturdy looking steel shelf for support. Silent as dust, he slid out of the duct and lowered himself to the floor. “I’m in the room,” he whispered. Ig crept along the rows of shelves until he found the cases labeled “Right Earrings – Under Brown.” “I found them” he whispered. “Here we go!”