Captain Bartholomew Quasar: The Space-Time Displacement Conundrum Read online

  "They're wearing pressure suits," Quasar said. It gave the Amazonians a clear advantage.

  "Humph," Hank responded, preparing to return fire.

  "Not that I can see," Steve countered. "No helmets, nothing of the sort. What were you expecting?"

  Quasar frowned. Maybe the suits would come later, once the commander realized the effect her crew's Incinerator blasts had on the hull's integrity in this corner of the ship.

  "Oh, I see." Steve stroked his snow-white beard as he eyed the captain. "You're reliving another moment from your past, is that it? Just nod if so. I doubt you'd want your helmsman to hear you talking to yourself. He'll think you've cracked!"

  Have I? Quasar had to wonder. But he nodded anyway.

  "And you managed to get out of this predicament once before, yes?"

  Again, the captain nodded. Truth be told, however, this moment in time was not exactly the one he remembered. When he and Hank had first arrived here with the air pressure leaking out of the hull through various ruptures, he'd had no clear memory of how they'd found themselves in that situation. But now, with the benefit of having lived through the moments leading up to this predicament, things were beginning to make more sense.

  Yet he still had to wonder: when would his conscious mind be pulled from this present moment, and where would he end up next? More to the point, he continued to harbor a sneaking suspicion that Steve had more to do with this temporal displacement than he was letting on.

  "Well then, I look forward to seeing how things play out. I'm sorry I missed the show the first time around." Steve smiled pleasantly and divided his attention between Captain Quasar and Hank, huddled behind the freight container, and the Amazonians who continued to fire their Incinerators without regard for the consequences. "They certainly have you outnumbered—and outgunned. But I suppose that shouldn't pose much of a problem for a heroic starship captain such as yourself."

  Clenching his jaw, Quasar nodded at Hank, and the two of them returned fire over the freight container, sending their flashing pulse rounds and rays of atomic energy across the cargo hold. Steve the hallucination applauded their efforts, shouting things like "Nice one!" and "So close!" despite the captain gritting his teeth and willing with all that was within him that the Gasman would disappear as suddenly as he had appeared. If the quartz dust was responsible, and if said quartz dust was now residing somewhere between Quasar's nasal cavity and brain, then it stood to reason that he could, if he concentrated hard enough—squeezing his eyes shut and clenching every muscle within him—be able to make Steve vanish from the cargo hold.

  Instead, when he opened his eyes, Captain Quasar found that he himself had vanished from the Formidable Grace. The freight containers, the dim light filtering through the grated ceiling above, the Amazonians with their Incinerator weapons, his own shoulder wound, Hank, even Steve—all had been replaced by another scene from the captain's recent memory, one he had hoped to avoid seeing through to its natural conclusion.

  For here he stood on the bridge of the Effervescent Magnitude once again, facing the viewscreen as the auto-destruct countdown reached one Earth second, glowing in bright crimson and filling most of the screen with star-punched space as its backdrop—along with the Goobalob ship which had removed itself to a safe distance, expecting to see the Magnitude explode any millisecond now. The only thing was, these milliseconds were passing v-e-r-y s-l-o-w-l-y, as if time itself had decelerated. Perhaps it had. Or perhaps it was some sort of residual effect on the captain's perception of time after having passed backwards through it again so suddenly.

  Elliott the helmsman pounded his console and screamed his guts out, something about being too young to die, but no matter how hard he punched or how loud he screamed, the ship's engines would not comply. Apparently, they had been programmed back in space dock to remain unresponsive in the middle of an auto-destruct sequence.

  Commander Selene Wan stood facing the captain. From what he recalled, she had just apologized to him for having never respected him. A bit of unexpected information, that. But he supposed he couldn't blame her. In many ways, he'd treated her no better than the Amazonians had treated him: inferior, a sex object, et cetera. As if any of that really mattered now.

  Because the Effervescent Magnitude was going to blow up. And there was nothing Captain Bartholomew Quasar could do about it.

  Episode 30: Self-Preservation Mode

  It was difficult to say how long the number 1 had been frozen on the viewscreen. With the captain's recent trips backward and forward through time, his grasp on the present moment was not as strong as it had once been. As the countdown failed to progress past one, the bridge crew began to murmur in hushed tones.

  "Captain," Commander Wan interjected, darting her gaze between him and the screen. "The auto-destruct sequence… It may have malfunctioned."

  "Not exactly." Steve appeared with half a smile, speaking conspiratorially to Quasar. "It appears that your ship has been outfitted with an updated self-preservation program. Ingenious, really."

  "What does that mean?" Quasar hadn't relaxed his jaw yet, and his fists remained clenched at his sides.

  "I would assume it means the Magnitude will not destroy itself today," Wan replied, oblivious to the hallucination standing beside the captain.

  Steve chuckled. "She's right about that. But as far as the programming itself goes, apparently your United World leaders have grown tired of captains blowing up their own starships as a last resort. It costs them plenty, obviously, and when you think about it, shouldn't there be a better solution in the end? Destroying your own ship—" He clucked his tongue in disapproval. "I mean, really."

  Quasar wondered for a moment how Steve could possibly know about something which he himself was by no means privy to. Self-preservation programming? On a star cruiser? He'd never heard of such a thing. Regardless, these were the facts: the auto-destruct countdown had stopped, having arrived at one Earth second, and the Goobalob ship could be seen in the distance now approaching with caution.

  "They're hailing us, sir," Wan reported.

  "Very well." Quasar faced the viewscreen with his hands clasped behind his back. Not the most comfortable posture, but he was feeling rather awkward at the moment anyway. "Any chance we could—" He nodded toward the giant number 1 on the screen. "You know…"

  His first officer shrugged as if to say there was a lot going on at the moment, and a large numeral frozen on the viewscreen was the least of their worries. Her body language also suggested that the Effervescent Magnitude was fresh out of space dock, the crew—with the captain excluded—venturing beyond Earth's solar system for the very first time, and there were bound to be things such as failing auto-destruct sequences they had not prepared themselves adequately for. Or perhaps the captain was reading too much into her shrug.

  "Captain Earthling," the Goobalob returned full-size, its myriad eyes twitching as it peered around the numeral on the screen obstructing its view. "You have deceived us."

  From the captain's perspective, he welcomed the on-screen obstruction. It meant less of the Goobalob to look at—always a good thing when dealing with these disgusting creatures. "How so, friend?"

  "We are not your friends. You have trespassed through our space without paying a reasonable toll. And now you have mistreated us with deception, promising an explosion without delivering." The creature leaned in. "There was no explosion."

  The captain nodded, raising his hands in surrender. "You're absolutely right. I apologize. But believe me when I tell you, there will be an explosion, and it's in your best interest to give us a wide berth. We, uh, we're experiencing a few technical difficulties over here. Give us a couple Earth minutes to sort things out, and an explosion you shall have. I give you my word." He gestured to Wan to end the transmission as the Goobalob twitched its lips—or the gelatinous orifice that served as its lips—to object. The screen returned to a view of the alien ship behind the glowing red 1. "That should buy us some time."


  "Captain?" Wan didn't appear to understand.

  "You still locked out?" Quasar stood beside the helmsman, Elliott.

  "Yes," the ensign said hoarsely, his voice nearly shot after all that screaming earlier. The captain had decided to let the matter slide, although it was unseemly behavior for a bridge officer. "The auto-destruct sequence is still active, according to helm control—which I don't have, sir."

  "Do we know what paused the ship's auto-destruct sequence?"

  "I've already told you, Captain," Steve said.

  Quasar ignored him.

  Lieutenant Davis spoke up from her post at the rear of the bridge. "Captain, there appears to be a subroutine running at the moment—in the hierarchy of the ship's programming, this one appears to override all other commands." She shook her head in a bewildered, awestruck sort of way as she stared at her console. "I'm no expert, but I'd say somebody programmed our ship with a self-preservation mode. It won't allow itself to auto-destruct!"

  Steve thumped his oaken staff to get the captain's attention and bugged out his eyes in an I told you so expression usually reserved for human teenagers.

  Captain Quasar frowned. It was incredibly unsettling to learn something about his ship in the past that he'd never known in the present. He thought he knew the Magnitude so well, inside and out. Apparently, she'd been holding out on him.

  "Of course." Quasar nodded with a confident smile intended to put the crew instantly at ease. They didn't need to know such a program had been installed on their ship without their captain's knowledge. "Self-preservation mode. We were never in any real danger, you see." He gave Elliott a mighty whack on the back, and the helmsman lurched forward against his console. "We just had to make things look real to those Goobalobs."

  Commander Wan did not look convinced.

  Episode 31: On Mission

  Captain Quasar faced his crew with arms folded across his broad chest, rocking back on the heels of his boots. "Our first priority is to disable the auto-destruct and restore helm control." That much was obvious. "Our second is to get the hell out of here." Also obvious. "But we'll need a diversion, something to distract these Goobalobs while we fire up the engines and skedaddle. And by what we've learned from them so far, they seem to be big fans of explosions."

  "Torpedoes ready, Captain!" Lieutenant Davis nearly shouted, her finger hovering over the console, all too eager to fire.

  "No!" Too forceful—Quasar took things down a few notches. "No, Lieutenant. Blowing them up is not the explosion I had in mind. Commander Wan—" He met the uncertain gaze of his first officer. "I would like you to oversee a certain ruse I have in mind."

  The ruse in question involved a transport pod, five plasma torpedoes, and an autopilot sequence that would position the pod right in front of the Magnitude, rigged to blow a split-second after the Magnitude sped away at full engine power. The captain explained this to Commander Wan in great detail in the conference room with just the two of them in attendance. Meanwhile, Weapons Officer Davis had command of the bridge with strict orders not to fire upon the Goobalob vessel, no matter what.

  "Permission to speak freely, sir." Wan stood at attention and had done so since she'd entered the room alone with the captain.

  "Granted." Quasar stared out into the star-punctured void of space past his own striking reflection in the transparent plasticon porthole. The massive Goobalob ship waited in the distance, hovering like a hungry predator.

  "We could destroy them easily. These Goo-blobs. They pose no real threat."

  "Just because our weapons are better than theirs doesn't give us the right to annihilate them." He half-turned toward her with an eyebrow raised.

  "We weren't sent out here to play nice, Captain. We have a mission to complete, and my job is to see us through it, come what may."

  She was feisty, he had to give her that. "Our mission." He nodded pensively. With all the distractions lately, he had to admit he'd lost sight of their mission: To seek out new forms of fuel and valuable minerals for Earth's ten billion inhabitants. To forge mutually beneficial alliances with alien species, and to defend the interests of the United World at all costs.

  That last line tasted bitter at the moment.

  Wan took a step forward. "These creatures have no value to us, sir. They demand that we pay them merely to pass through a section of space. It's absurd."

  "It's their way," Quasar mused.

  "I don't understand. You seem to be familiar with this species—yet from all accounts, Earth ships have had no dealings with them before. Did you know they would be here, sir?"

  "Yes," he answered without thinking, returning his gaze to the wide porthole.

  Wan's reflection shook her head in disbelief. "What aren't you telling me?"

  "It's a shortcut to Carpethria." He squared his shoulders and inhaled deeply. "You wouldn't expect a captain to share every particular of the mission with his crew, would you?"

  "Yes," she said without hesitation, and there was something accusatory in her tone.

  Quasar had to remind himself that this space-time was early in their mission, before she had come to understand his methods of leadership and trust him somewhat. At the same time, he had to keep in mind that this situation—this discussion in the conference room—had never occurred the first time around. There had been no need. The Magnitude's torpedoes had blown the Goobalob ship apart.

  Captain Quasar was living the past over again, but this timeline was moving in an entirely unknown direction. It was enough to send snakes of anxiety squirming through his bowels.

  Clenching his jaw, he turned to face his first officer. "Well then. Suffice it to say, our engines are to be retrofitted with—" He paused, having been about to say the fateful words: cold fusion reactor. Knowledge of this advancement in technology had trickled across the galaxy to the United World Space Command from the planet Carpethria, an alien world whose scientists the UW had been in contact with, but had never met face-to-face. The Effervescent Magnitude was to make first contact and sign a trade agreement in exchange for the rumored near-lightspeed reactor that would take the Magnitude far beyond any other ship of its kind. "Certain technologies that will enable us to fulfill our mission. Passing through Goobalob space was unavoidable, and it was inevitable that an altercation such as this would arise." He took a step toward her. "We're dealing with unknown variables, Commander. And I for one would like to see us through to the other side of this situation without any additional loss of life."

  "But sir, those creatures—"

  "All life, Commander. Even ugly life. They have as much right to claim this space as we do our solar system. I'm sure the Prime Minister would have something to say about a Goobalob ship passing by Titan Colony on full engines, disturbing the peace and whatnot. Wouldn't you say?"

  Again, his first officer looked far from convinced. "I'll have to include any misgivings in my mission summary. My advice: destroy that ship, and let us be on our way."

  "Noted." Quasar nodded. "Now report to transport bay two and ready that pod. I want it prepped to make the biggest blast possible. Dismissed."

  Commander Wan left without another word.

  Episode 32: A Model Crew

  "So that's your plan? Blow up one of your transport pods and run?" Steve materialized behind the captain, skulking in the shadows of the dim conference room.

  Quasar turned on him. "Would you stop doing that?"

  "Didn't mean to startle you." The wizard's eyes sparkled.

  "You didn't." He paused. "Where do you go, anyway? When you're not sticking your invisible nose where it doesn't belong?" Captain Quasar strode toward the door to the bridge. "Wherever it is, I wish you'd just stay there!"

  "You seem irritable, Captain. When have you last slept, if you don't mind my asking?"

  Quasar stopped. Without turning back, he acknowledged, "I haven't." Not since this bizarre journey through space-time had begun, when the cold fusion reactor of the Magnitude went kaput and sent him hurtling
into the past. Then the future. Then the present. He shook his head and squeezed the bridge of his nose. Life had become rather confusing as of late. "Not that it's any of your business." He glanced over his shoulder at the apparition. "You're not even here. Just a figment of my overtired imagination."

  A slight frown creased Steve's forehead. "I'm afraid you have misunderstood, Captain. I am here, as real as anyone else aboard this ship."

  "You're a hallucination!" Quasar jabbed an accusatory index finger in Steve's general direction. "No one else can see you. You're in my head, for crying out loud!"

  Steve nodded. "Physiologically speaking, yes. But 'in your head' as in not actually here, more of a mental construct or vision? I'm sorry if I misled you. That is simply not the case."

  Quasar pointed with his finger once more as if to drive home a point. "Disappear. That's an order." He punched the plate beside the door, and it slid open with a swish.

  "I'm not one of your crew, Captain."

  "While you're aboard my ship, you'll behave as such." He strode onto the bridge, garnering a few quick, curious glances from his bridge crew. "That's right," he said with a broad smile, baring his gorgeous teeth. "This is how a ship's crew behaves, all right. A model crew, this. As you were." Dipping his chin, he climbed into his captain's chair and glared at the viewscreen. The big red 1 was still there, glowing as brightly as ever. "So, uh—"

  Helmsman Elliott cleared his throat and reported, "We're having some difficulty disabling the countdown sequence, sir. Helm control continues to be unresponsive as well."

  Quasar muttered a curse under his breath and rotated his chair to face Weapons Officer Davis. He never tired of seeing her as she was, here and now. "The Goobalob vessel?"

  "They're maintaining their distance, Captain. No hails."

  "Let's keep it that way." From his past—future—experience, the Goobalob species were nothing if not patient when their interests were at stake. They were undoubtedly prepared to wait out there until everyone aboard the Effervescent Magnitude died of old age, if need be. But Quasar only needed them to wait long enough for the transport pod to be rigged. "We have to get helm control back online." He tapped his fist lightly against the armrest. It would do no good to have a terrific cover explosion and still be stuck here, dead in the water.