Somewhere in my memory bank, there is a snippet of me leaving money, guzzling drinks then stumbling back out onto the street.
Everything was blurry and watery. I wasn’t entirely sure what was happening to me. The rice wanted to come back up. It could have been my body trying to expel it or the rice trying to escape on its own, crawling up my esophagus… I tried not to think about it. On a matter of principle I wouldn’t let it. I’d rather be nauseous for hours than vomit once and immediately feel better. Call me stubborn. Plus, I really did not want to find out that it was not rice in that meal.
Next thing I knew, it was dark again. Dark, dark. As in the sun was completely gone.
Wait. That was after coming out of another building where it was really dark. My knuckles hurt badly, throbbing and stinging. I think they were bleeding. An image of a gremlin crumbling after colliding with my fist exists somewhere in my head. No idea where I’ve seen that guy before. The images whirled in a kaleidoscopic nightmare. Nor was that the only one. That event may have created its own recursive loop. All I can say is I did a lot of swinging. I think. With my fists in this case.
Searching my pockets, the drugs were gone. Must have been mugged. Should probably keep a better eye on my pockets in this shady place. I had no idea what kind of monsters wandered those streets. All feeling was gone from my face, and much of the rest of me, so it was probably for the better anyway.
“… should have been there,” someone was shouting in my voice.
“I…”
Why was everyone looking at me like that? Wade’s disguising potion must have made me look like something frightful.
Laughing.
My forehead had a constant pain as if something hard was pressing against it.
More laughter.
I don’t like being laughed at. Someone would pay for that laughter.
“So I say to him… What’s with the qwuiggen?”
More laughter.
I picked my head up from the table full of empty glasses. Must have crashed a party. Looking around the table I didn’t see any other chairs. Awfully rude of them to take their chairs and not their empty glasses.
“How the brort should I know?”
Eruption of laughter.
“Thank you.”
Cheering and whistling. Why was it so loud in here? Couldn’t they see I was trying to sleep?
A big blue fuzzy creature was waving at a sea of clapping…things. He left the stage as the audience continued to go wild. Did I ever mention I hate standup comedy? And laugh tracks. Those are the worst. I am not sure which I despise more.
“Welcome back,” a voice purred above me, interrupting my disdainful thoughts.
I looked at the ceiling a little startled.
Several squints later I could see her. She was standing on the ceiling. Her hair was done up in a tight bun – I only noticed because you don’t see too much hair out here. Her skin was blue too. Must be a genealogical thing on this planet. Black corset. Okay. Lovely legs. Four of them. Spiderlike feet. Derferg?
“Why are there so many cups here?” I asked.
“You wouldn’t let me take any of them away.”
“Why would I do that?”
The room was getting quieter. House lights came up. The unsightly creatures it hid were making their way towards the door.
Oh, right. Spider lady above my head.
“I tried but after the third time of you yelling you can’t let them go, I stopped.”
“I wasn’t too rude, I hope.”
She shrugged then started picking up the glasses with two arms previously concealed behind her back. Efficient. No patrons in the way, bulk carry. I appreciate a good business model. Even if it means mediocre comedy acts.
“I know a bad day when I see one. Pick me up?”
“Huh?” Pick her up? She was already on the ceiling. I wasn’t sure I had enough limbs for that endeavor anyway.
“Something to bring you back to life.”
“Oh. A pick-me-up.”
“Something that won’t put you out of your mind again.”
“Please. What time do you close?”
“We don’t.” She took off with my two dozen empty cups.
Where the fuck am I and how did I get here? I can handle my stuff, even on the worst bender. Must have been drugged. No, that wouldn’t work, even if someone wanted to take advantage of me.
I was on a half booth along the wall. Padded and angled just right. As the pieces slowly, surprisingly delicately, fell into place, I leaned back on the booth resting my head. Staring at the ceiling, my server entered my view with what looked and sort of smelled like a cup of coffee.
“You had mentioned it in your ravings.”
I grunted. “That’s not like me,” I mumbled.
“You bounce back quick,” she said as I sipped the coffee before it fully left her hand. It was pretty damn close.
“It’s what I do.”
“I’m sorry for your lose. She sounded really special,” she said softly.
Totally caught by surprise, my face muscles spasmed in the oddest way. My eyes filled with water. It felt like the right reaction even though I wasn’t sure why.
She must have crawled down off of the ceiling. Suddenly she was sitting on the other side of the table holding my hands in all four of hers. A weird feeling for the only a quarter of a second I thought about it.
Cough.
I coughed. Trying to compose myself.
“I’m sure you hear it all the time,” I managed to say. “Don’t want to bother you with my problems.”
“Not a story like yours.”
“Excuse me.”
“You were already pretty smashed when you got here. After a few drinks you started telling the story leading up to you being here. I should have cut you off, but I was so drawn into the story I had to bribe you with drinks for the next part.”
We were both quiet for a moment. It would have been easy to shift the judgment of responsibility away from myself at that moment. As odd as it might have been to blame her for enabling me, I did receive some drinks out of it and I’d like to think that I take responsibility for my own actions.
“Where you trailed off, I just figured.”
I was rubbing my eyes and head until the cobwebs and oceans cleared.
“You really drank yourself sober.”
“It’s more of an art than a science,” I grumbled. “In conjunction with some physiobogical adaptations. Elolution over dozens of years on my planet.”
“Oh, the things you say,” she cooed. I couldn’t tell if she was mocking or scolding me.
“I wasn’t too rude was I?”
She shook her head.
“You made it clear you don’t bother women while they’re working. Plus, you kept looking at me like I was someone else.”
Cringe. Heavy cringe.
“That probably be the booze.” I jerked my head towards her. “The latter, anyway. Seeing ghosts. No offense. Did I ask anything about after you get off?”
When you’re down in a hole, keep digging. Why not? That helps, right?
“There’s another event scheduled,” she frowned, something like pity. Patting my hand, she stood up suddenly. “Speaking of which. I have to help in getting this place ready.”
“Polite way of kicking me out,” I laughed at quarter effort. What was I doing on this planet again? Where am I? I’d ask who am I, but I was never quite sure of that in the first place.
“Oh, you can stay. Capital security doesn’t come around here.”
I felt my jaw and face muscles sag under the involuntary quizzical expression response to such as statement. She scurried off before I could say anything else. I should probably think long and hard about what I have said while in this establishment. While I’m at it, I should do the same for the…however long I have been on this planet. Ugh, I hadn’t had a morning like that in a very long time. Not since… since… What the hell was that place called? It wasn’t even a planet. Somewhere between an asteroid and a dwarf planet. Had a little too much fun after a serious gig I pulled off. Woke up half buried in a crater a good two days walk from the… slap. It was a moon, I remember now. And I’m still not convinced that I wasn’t assassinated and buried in a shallow crater grave. The universe is full of mysteries.
“I’ll bring food and some more coffee,” she called over her shoulder.
Sometime later I had food that was not once wriggling through rotting meat and, I dub thee, Capital Space Coffee. True to its word, the coffee worked on my in all ways it was supposed to. Finding the bathroom wasn’t the problem. Figuring it out was. There weren’t any seashell; that would have been far easier. I, to this day, cannot begin to describe the incomprehensibility of it, unless it was in fact, not a bathroom. I guess we’ll never know.
Long story short, the king lived long on the throne. A good bender will do that. Especially after extended space travel on constipating ‘foods.’ With the risk of TMI, it was a cleansing, almost spiritual experience. When I walked out, the next crowd was already in full effect. I might have dozed off while I was in there.
“They are weak! Our time is coming!”
Walking back to my seat, a few of the beings there looked at me. I know I looked weird compared to them, but a few of them did double takes. One stared at me for an uncomfortably long time. It was lucky I was tired and hungover. They kept murmuring like I was interrupting or something.
“He took out the Emperor! We can take the Captial! From the corrupt Scum!”
And the crowd jeered and cheered back. See? How was I the problem?
“Liberator,” echoed in a whisper.
This crowd was weirding me out.
I sat down hoping things wouldn’t get even weirder. On general principle I tried to stay out of politics, based on what little I did hear. It’s safe to assume they’re all corrupt assholes. I don’t understand why people keep voting for others to controls their lives. Oh right, it’s easier for someone else to run their lives for them. If you look at cults, they all go the same way. Give everything you have to the leader. Dare not deviate from doctrine. And ultimately, the deviancy of the corrupt leaders brings about its downfall. More often than not with the followers. Never mind.
I signaled for…for… Should have asked her named. I signaled for another drink using various hand gestures – something tall and stiff. Ho. Ha. Hair of the Wookiee.
Her eyes kept flicking from me to the crowd.
Unsettling to say the least.
The emcee was a tall creature resembling loose gravel. It looked incredibly dry and uncomfortable. Oh, yeah, he was staring right at me. And so was the crowd as far as I could tell. It can be a bit of a guessing game with eyes in the outback here.
I didn’t like the feeling it was giving me. Being the center of attention is my least favorite thing.
Gravel Man pointed at me, eyes wide.
“Liberator!”
And the crowd went wild.
I’m famous in the capital. What can I say?
… other than I hate public speaking. While hungover. In a bar I didn’t even know the name of. On the planet that made me the most wanted creature this side of the universe… oh dear Zod, the crowd came at me fast.
Suddenly hoisted in the air by a dozen or so hands, claws, and tentacles, I bobbed towards the stage trying not to spew my breakfast all over the crawling chariot. Seasickness is not sensation I’m used to, nor airsickness, or spacesickness. Being in the back of a helicopter can be weird, not having a constant forward motion, but crowd surfing after a thorough bender’ll do it.
With a surprising amount of grace, I was placed on the stage.
“Uh,” I said. It resonated through the building, though I didn’t see a microphone.
“Liberator!” someone shouted. Then the rest of them, totally not helping my headache. I needed another drink.
Dazed, I still stood there. Staring. Swaying in the breeze. I’m not sure where it was coming from. I don’t think there was a breeze. Might have still been a little under the influence and or there was some resulting brain damage.
Expecting eyes remained on me.
“Why did you do it?” was asked from the front row.
Easy. I didn’t. I didn’t say that. That could be bad. Most likely they wouldn’t believe me. Either way, bad for business. The reluctant savior shtick plays out in real life just as it does in the movies. That is one thing they get right, I’ll give them that. People, and aliens, in fact see what they want to see, especially in such fanciful Robin Hood tales. So I decided on a response that was true for all parties involved.
“To quote a great philosopher,” I said heartily, “‘Fuck’em. That’s why.’”
It killed. To my head’s regret the remarked garnered a much greater applause than the previous acts.
“Why did you come back?” came from the back.
“He never left,” someone replied indignantly.
“But he destroyed those other planets.”
“It was commanded from here,” someone else said.
Raising my hands, I tried to quell the growing commotion. I was no longer interesting and it was creating great pains in my cranium.
“Let us join your army!”
“He did it himself.”
“Hey!” I was just another voice in the crowd.
Heatedly, the argument became louder and louder.
“Hey!” I coughed. Cleared my throat. The hoarseness interfered.
I pulled out ye ol’ Peacemaker and fired it at the ceiling.
I had their undivided attention.
“All right.” I grated at them. “Who’s in charge here?”
No response. Only stares.
Something hard poked me in the shoulder.
I turned and jumped. Rock Thing raised a hand as if volunteering.
“Oh, right,” I muttered. “Makes sense. Do you have a more private area where we can discuss business?”
It nodded its head eagerly.
“Good. Take me there. Bring your most trusted officers. Ensure security is air tight. Can you assure that no one will know where we are meeting?”
Rocky waved an arm over the crowd, making a gesture I was not familiar with. A moment later the shutters and doors were closed and locked.
Convenient. I need to learn such a gesture that works everywhere like that. Most of mine currently tend to only insight violence.
“I’m also going to need a burger and a beer,” I told him. You know, while we’re at it.
“On it,” my waitress called from across the room.
Sarah. That’s what her name was. Took me long enough. I have a hard time remembering ordinary names. There are some crazy jibberish names across the universe. Those I do not struggle with much. But Sarah – it wasn’t Sarah, like Earth Sarah – it was the closest approximation I could make without asphyxiating every time I said the name. Now that I’m thinking about it, there are some uncanny similarities between her and someone, cough. The subconscious mind is a hell of a thing.
Rocko led me off the stage through a curtain at its rear. We walked in silence through the dark, cramped hallway to a sturdy door at the end. He opened the door, allowing me to enter. Please don’t be a trap.
I don’t know what I was expecting when I entered the room. When I did, the impression I received was that it belonged to the paranoid schizophrenic version of the Knights of the Round Table. Taking center stage, the large round table, old and well worn. Simple chairs and sofas lined two of the walls. The walls were covered in maps, charts, propaganda posters, both for and against the Empire. It would not be complete without a wall dedicated strictly to weapons of all sorts.
I’ve always had a knack for picking a good place to drink.
Walking around the room I didn’t need to be able to read the local dialect to take in much of what was presented. Maps and schematics in simple lines and shapes… of targets of interest. One particularly large one was, I ventured to guess, the Capitol itself. Capital C and an O. Not just capital. A minor distinction, but an important one nonetheless.
Continuing around to the far side of the table, I heard others entering behind me. Something was placed on the table. The door closed. Clicked. Then the room was silent.
Turning to the table I saw Rocky. My attention was drawn to the farthest side of the table to a being with a large, pronged yellow head. I guess that’s the word. They were like horns. A bifurcated head, elongated into two backswept, pointed curves. A strange sensation told me he was moderately telepathic. Then there was Sarah.
Interesting crew.
Sweeping my gaze across them, I tried to get a better sense of them. Polite, patient stares awaited me. Could be worse.
“I am Rogger.” Like Roger but with more guh than juh.
“Right,” I snapped a finger at him. “Rocko. Pleased to meet you.”
“I am Yorgen,” the yellow head said. “I am moderately telepathic.”
I’d have to be careful what I thought around this guy.
“That would be wise,” he responded.
I squinted at him in response.
“And I am Shahrah. In case you have forgotten,” Sarah said.
“Of course. How could I possibly forget you?” I said rhetorically.
“He is wondering why she is here,” Yorgen said.
I was about to say that it had nothing to do with her being a woman if that’s what they were thinking.
“But not because she is a woman,” he continued.
For a long, hard moment, I stared at him. All the rage of my being was focused into a world of a thought, that if he continued to invade my mind or speak for me, I would be serving his brain on a silver dish with some fava beans and a nice chianti.
Yorgen blinked first as a bead of sweat rolled down one of his lobes. I’m good at mind games too. Knowing is half the battle after all. Demoralizing then mercilessly beating crushing the skulls of your enemies is the other half. What is good in life, as the saying goes.
Another thought seeped into my mind just then.
“It’s awfully convenient,” I pointed a finger slowly around the crowd. “That I happened upon a bar with the leaders of an insurrectionist faction of the Empire.”
Each averted their gaze.
Rocko straightened his shoulders.
“One of my crew found you.” He hesitated a moment. I may have glowered at him until he continued. “He thought you were the Liberator, from the news feeds. You won a drinking contest at your previous stop…then challenged every individual to a fight to the death, saying they’ll meet the same end as the emperor.”
There was no stopping my eyebrows from raising.
Party on Bruce Wayne.
“Krawm, the one who found you, said you needed somewhere that,” he cleared his throat, “had – as you had repeatedly requested – ‘bitches and bang.’”
“Okay, yeah that sounds like me,” I confessed. So far the story was checking out. “There was a fairly long gap in the great reveal though, wouldn’t you say?”
This time Sarah cleared her throat, taking a seat.
“That’s a good idea. Why are we standing?” I sat angrily, if there is such a way. There was a song about it anyway.
“We,” she said with a mild plea. “Well, you were so out of it, we couldn’t be sure who you were. The staff was told nothing other than to keep an eye on you. The others didn’t know.”
“But Zerdzer recognized you and blew my whole set,” Rogger the Rock Rockson laughed. “Shahrah was confident it was you, by the time you finished your story.”
Cringe again.
“Bravo, then,” I said. “At least I know you have some sort of ability to execute…” I couldn’t think of the right phrase. “Such an operation.” This was a relatively new experience to me, being taken in and given safe harbor and all. Leave me alone.
There was a burger sitting in front of me I realized. I had noticed it, but didn’t pay much attention to it. Ever get that? You see something, it just doesn’t register.
Anyway.
“Anyway,” I announced. “I believe one of my compatriots is being held, likely tortured, and could very well be executed at any time. This is assuming that Zalud actually believes that I died on that sh… That ship. I’m sure you’ve seen the recent news.”
“I knew it!” Rocko slammed a heavy fist on the table, making the burger jump an inch off the plate. “I have been telling my wife for years that they were corruptly working together.”
“It’s not that I didn’t believe you,” Sarah sighed. “I just find it hard to believe how one individual can have more power than the Emperor.”
Looking between the two – an odd match I might add – I tried to hide being flabbergasted. How does that work anyway? Rock spiders?
Yorgen snickered.
“Quiet, you,” I barked at him. “They’re one in the same,” I told the others.
“What?” came in unison.
“Well,” I thought carefully about what not to say. “Or at least the Emperor, the late Emperor, was likely controlled, by Zalud. A puppet.” I shrugged. “I’m not even sure that he’s actually dead. Or that he ever existed.”
Two stares and a glare. I really did not like the banana head.
“But you killed him!” Rocko declared.
“In a sense that is true. If not an unintended consequence.”
Yorgen face slackened.
“What does this mean then?” Sarah asked since Rocko was too busy flusteredly gargling marbles.
“My target was Zalud.” Pragmatic gymnastics. Remember, the best lie is the truth. Plausible deniability. That is why I do not lie. I will, however, bend the shit out of the truth.
“Ah, see?” she elbowed her husband. I was still confused on that one. “He was going after the true source of evil.”
“Well put,” I added.
Rocko visibly calmed, reappraising me with those creepy little white marbles for eyes.
“At least,” I laughed at the thought, “you didn’t try to take credit for what happened like some half assed black flag operation.”
My chuckles died off as I noticed them solemnly blushing.
“Nooo,” I rasped. “You stupid fuckers.”
“I told him it was a bad idea,” Sarah sneered. “I thought they were going to raid the towns and murder all of us.”
“I didn’t give them enough details to know where we were,” Rocko fired back.
“Plus, it was a chance to solidify our movement,” Yorgen added.
“And I might add,” Rocko raised his voice, “nothing came of it.”
“You were lucky,” I said seriously. “They must have been too wrapped up in coming after me and, no offense, didn’t take you seriously enough to bother. I would have expected them, for appearance sake, to liquidate all of you as a show of power.”
“The interior and exterior of the Capitol are well isolated I might add,” added Yorgen.
“What do you mean?”
“The haves and the have-nots. They are none too bothered with the happenings of us little people out here.”
I nodded along to that one. It was hard to contest.
“What do we know of the inside?” I asked him.
“We have,” he started, but I was only partially listening while I began consuming the burger. “Agents inside of the Capitol. They relay information to us. We try to feed information into them.”
“This is on point Sarah,” I said through a mouth of burger. It was truly good. Whether the result of being malnourished from a however-long bender or four arms being better than two in the kitchen, it was friggin’ deligious. Yes, like religious delicious.
“You were very specific about how you like your burgers at one point.”
“Hm,” I said with pleasure. After swilling some beer I gave her a thumbs up. If I had four thumbs, I’d have given her all four. No not like that.
Yorgen tried hard not to look displeased with my actions. I heard what he said. It was what I expected to hear. Essentially a whole lot of nothing.
“So what else do we have on,” I waved a hand around, “recent events? Current events, too?”
“The Capitol went into lockdown shortly before the explosion,” Yorgy said. “Many nonessential personnel were ushered out of the area. Among whom were our agents. We have had limited interaction since. Security has been hardened.”
“Yeah,” I droned. “I can see that.”
For a few reasons. From a safety and security standpoint, that’s what you do. From a conspiracy standpoint, that’s what you do…when you don’t want any witness other than your own.
I worked on the burger then the beer as they watched patiently. Perfect amount of grease to grease the wheels, so to speak.
“Errrrrrrp. Excuse me. Thank you, Sarah. This is really good.”
She smiled and nodded.
“Here’s what I need,” I commanded in my serious General voice. “Find out what you can on where my associate is being held.”
They stayed silent, expectantly. It was awkward.
“Anything else?” Rocko asked eagerly. “How many soldiers will you need then?”
“All of them.”
“All?”
“All.”
Yorgaborg doubted my plan. “You can’t expect to walk a bunch of dregs from the outskirts into the Capitol while it is on lockdown.”
“We’re going to start a riot,” I said simply. “A big one. It’ll have to be like a fire sweeping across the planet. I will need enough chaos to be of little concern. My mug is quite famous here after all. Particularly inside that building.”
There were some really wide eyes in the room.
Shrugging I finished with, “If it’s big enough, you will all be free from the Empire once and for all.”
There were now two light bulbs and a glower. You guessed it. Rogger and Sarah were visually elated at the prospect of global liberation. Yorgen looked at me as if I were as suspicious as he is. Full disclaimer, I could be simply projecting these things upon his character. I am, after all, a biased source. Narrator or not.
Or am I?
Ruckus called from the hallway.
“Ugh,” Sarah ughed. “The next party is coming in already.”
Rogger nodded to the door. “Go ahead. I’ll be out in a few to help. Yorgen, start marshaling the troops for a planning meeting.”
The two of us waited patiently as the others filed out of the room. The door clicked shut behind them.
Time for real talk. One on one about what we needed to do. What I needed. And a very big yellow warning sign with two horns.
“If there is anything I can supply you with,” he began. “Food, drink, my wife. Merely ask and it is yours.”
I did a double take somewhere in that statement. Can you guess at what?
“Come again?”
His lumpy head turned sideways at me. A moment later he gave a full bellied laugh.
“I am sure she is more than willing. For the Liberator, after all. We would be honored.”
“Uh, yeah. Thanks. On another note. How well do you trust Bullwinkle there?” I nodded at the door. “Your psychic medium.”
“Wholly and entirely. Why do you ask?”
“Call it a hunch.”
“You have abilities yourself?” he gasped. “He may come across as condescending, but I assure you he is committed to the cause. You have my word on it.”
“Would you stake your life on it?”
“I suppose in a way we all are.”
I nodded along as he spoke. At least he acknowledged as much. Now might not be the time to shake the tree until doubtful squabbling monkeys fell out of it. I would just have to use my suspicions to my advantage. If I’m wrong, no harm, do quail. If I’m right… Evil twiddling of fingers.
“I will need an assistant.”
“I will gladly assist you.”
“Not you. You will be busy enough to be answering my stupid questions. It will need to be someone you trust enough take a bullet for me. As well as loyal enough to you that you know you will not need to run to, to ask questions about my comings and goings.”
I suspect he was struggling to keep up with that word salad. At last he relaxed and nodded.
“Anything you need,” he bowed slightly.
I hate groveling.
“I know just the man,” he said, springing to his feet.
I finished what little was left of my meal. I’d have to remember to ask for the recipe and brand of beer before I leave. As much as I hate city life, the artisans often make some good stuff. Makes it worth ignoring much of the pretentiousness. Yuppies and hipsters. Ugh.
Rogger interrupted my ponderings.
He entered with a short, squat reddish orange creature. It was a chitinous, rocky looking creature. Much like himself, only made of fewer, more substantial stones the color of red clay.
“This is my cousin, Erg.” He slapped Erg on the back. Erg didn’t budge.
“What do you do here, Erg?”
“Barback,” he rumbled.
“He’ll do,” I said snapping my fingers.
Barbacks are good. In my experience anyway. Something no one thinks about in a bar. All you see is the bartender. Either pouring or keying at the register. They bring you everything, but never leave the bar. How is that? The man behind the scenes. Strong enough to throw around full kegs. Discrete enough to not be noticed. Replenishing this. Filling that. Knowing what is needed before it is needed, else wise face the wrath of the bartender. It is a cut of the bartender’s tips after all that pays the barback’s bills.
Plus, he was built like a shit brickhouse. Even looked like one. If he couldn’t hold a horde off from me, worst case scenario, I could throw him at the horde, sending them sprawling. Assuming I could pick him up.
Now I knew what I needed to do though. And that was…figure out what the hell I was going to do.