Emperor Mollusk Versus the Sinister Brain (9 page)

“He will get us to the volcano much faster than on foot,” said Kreegah. “Much safer too. Few predators on the island want any part of Old Broot.”

The hecteratops bull snorted, stamping the ground with earth-shaking force.

“I don’t see how we’re going to sneak up on anyone riding this thing,” said Zala.

“Sometimes, it’s good to sneak,” answered Kreegah. “And sometimes, it’s better to be heard coming.”

“Shock and awe.” Zala grinned. “That’s something I can get behind.”

Kreegah offered to help her get on the bull’s back, but she insisted on doing it herself. It took her several minutes to scale the massive creature. She managed to grab hold of one wing and hoist herself into position. Kreegah gave his customary
I don’t understand
expression. I gave my customary
You’re better off not understanding
look, and used my rocketpack to boost to a seat ahead of Zala.

“Where’s your pet?” she asked me.

“Did you look behind you?” I replied.

Snarg squealed and playfully wrapped her pincers around Zala’s head. She pushed the ultrapede away.

“You should be nicer to her,” I told Zala. “She likes you.”

“You’ll excuse me if I don’t want drool rusting my helmet.” She tried to clean the slime sticking to her armor.

“She was coating you with a waxy resin that hardens with the tensile strength of titanium. It dries very quickly, but I guess you just found that out.”

Zala tried and failed to remove her hands from the helmet she held. I sprayed a neutralizing agent on the resin, and she was able to pry her sticky hands free.

“It’s a sign of affection.”

She scowled at Snarg, who batted her milky yellow eyes and cooed.

Kreegah howled again. Several primadons lumbered into view.

“I’ve told my people that Emperor Mollusk has said that the future of this island and all the islands beyond the sea are at stake. They don’t understand. I’m not sure I do either. But the braver males have agreed to venture with us to the mountain of fire.”

He barked a few orders to the tribe, and they disappeared back into the jungle. Kreegah vaulted onto Old Broot’s back, and with one more primal roar, the hecteratops rotated. The dinosaur wasn’t agile, and the extra legs weren’t cooperative. But once Broot managed to turn around, he plunged into the forest with a burst of speed.

The island zipped by in a blur. We crouched low, clinging to Broot’s back to avoid getting thrown off our lurching mount or knocked aside by the whipping branches. I didn’t try to absorb any details from the journey, trusting in Kreegah’s expertise the way he trusted in mine.

The jungle parted, and we lumbered through a swampy clearing. A herd of telekinetic iguanodons scattered and levitated out of our way, which was a good thing, considering Old Broot wasn’t interested in stopping. A Chinese junk mired in the muck (a relic from some forgotten adventure) wound up in our path, and rather than go around it, the hecteratops plowed through, trampling the ship and long-dead sailor bones beneath his hooves.

The yellow clouds glittered with strange colors, and a B-52 Stratofortress pierced the churning veil. The plane plummeted from the sky to crash on the far side of the island.

I checked the latest readings from the computer scan. “It’s getting worse.”

“I thought you said we had hours,” shouted Zala over the thunder and howling winds.

“Time is relative, and the closer we get to the anomaly, the quicker it passes. Relatively. Hours can become minutes as we approach the focal point.”

The island quaked and a chasm opened in front of us. Clumsy Old Broot barely avoided falling into it, but tripped, burying his snout in the dirt. I was thrown to the ground and by the time I stopped tumbling, I was just glad I hadn’t been crushed beneath the hecteratops’s bulk.

Zala, Kreegah, Snarg, and even Old Broot were nowhere to be seen. The island was quiet. The skies were cloudy but calmer. A quick scan of the data confirmed that I had fallen into a temporal distortion, a pocket of displaced time. It was like going to Mars by staying where you were and having the planet come to you. Zala and Kreegah must’ve been minutes, maybe hours, in the relative past. Possibly days or years.

I needed to find the edge of the phenomenon, either temporal or spatial, to escape it. The result would snap me back in sync with proper space-time alignment. This was only a hypothesis, but my own studies in theoretical time manipulation had suggested this possibility. Admittedly, I was more of a time travel hobbyist, but there was nothing like a little practical field observation.

I obviously hadn’t stayed put otherwise I would’ve been waiting for me in the clearing before the pocket hit. I could stick around and see if it would be possible to create a paradox. As appealing as that sounded, it came fraught with peril by causality, and while under normal circumstances, challenging the space-time continuum sounded like fun, I had a planet to save.

I rocketed into the air, sticking close to the trees. It afforded me some degree of stealth, on the chance that it was warranted. Exo sensors guided me to the anomaly, although I didn’t need them. It was exactly where I’d left it, at the southwestern base of Dinosaur Island’s turbulent volcano. My attempts at sneakiness were rendered pointless when a flock of pterodactyls flanked me. An unusually large specimen with the striped fur pattern of a tiger spoke to me.

“So good of you to join us, Emperor,” it said. Rather, the speaker built into the apparatus strapped to its back said it. “We’ve been expecting you.”

He gave the other winged reptiles an ultrasonic command. They shrieked. Their laser-projecting eyes flashed, waiting for the kill sign.

“I trust you won’t try anything foolish.” The lead pterodactyl was incapable of expression, but since its face was always a terrifying scowl of teeth, it matched the threat very well.

“I assume you’re not here to kill me or you’d have done it already,” I said.

“You assume correctly. Come along, Emperor. And do play nice.”

They escorted me to the volcano. As we drew closer, the clouds grew more violent. The island’s trembling worsened. I detected the sudden data input of the Jupitorn ship I’d repaired earlier, confirming that I was in the past. Perhaps only a half hour from the point where I’d lost Zala and Kreegah. I was on my own until then.

We landed in a clearing around my stabilizer, a device that took up most of the volcano’s southwest side. Two dozen robotic workers marched about completing tasks. Someone had modified the stabilizer with a few components added here and there. And there was a machine the size of a great horned reef shark positioned beside the shimmering distortion.

Even at its most agitated, the anomaly was mostly invisible. Sometimes, at the right time of year under the right conditions, it would glow soft red. It took a lot of science to pry open space-time. The machine sparked and smoked. The robots sprayed it down with coolant to keep it from exploding.

The striped pterodactyl landed beside me. “Impressive, isn’t it?”

“How did you correct for the tachyon feedback?” I asked.

“There will be time enough for questions. First allow me to change into something more practical.”

Worker robots brought over a lumbering tyrannosauridae with an apparatus similar to the pterodactyl’s wired on its back.

The mesmersaurus was the apex predator on the island. I’d catalogued only one specimen. An albertosaurus, smaller cousin to the more famous tyrannosaurus, it was a fat, sluggish beast. There were fiercer and stronger creatures, but the mesmersaurus didn’t need to be fast or crafty when all it had to do was wait for its prey to look into its third eye. Any animal would be rendered catatonic, helpless as the clumsy predator lumbered in for the kill.

Despite its impressive powers of mental dominance, the mesmersaurus was possessed of a single-minded stupidity. Hardly surprising, considering it fed itself mostly by waiting for something to look it in the eye.

“I suppose you’ll want me to surrender my weapons and deactivate my exo,” I said.

“That won’t be necessary.” The pterodactyl skulked over to the mesmersaurus. The apparatus opened, revealing a Terra Sapien brain encased in a clear spheroid. The spheroid extended several mechanical limbs and scuttled up the mesmersaurus’s tail to settle into the connection on its back. The apparatus buzzed. The mesmersaurus blinked, flexed the stubby fingers on its stubby arms. It arched its back in a stretch and clawed the ground with its hind legs.

The same voice issued from his speaker.

“So good to finally meet you, Emperor. Face to face.”

The toothy dino turned its hypnotic eye in my direction.

I locked stares with the mesmersaurus’s third eye, and a tingle ran through my nervous system. The tips of my tentacles went numb.

His teeth glinted. “Still with us, Emperor?”

“Funny thing about life on Neptune,” I replied. “Hypnotic predators were all the rage at one point. All Neptunon life-forms are naturally resistant to psionic manipulation as a result.”

The Brain shrugged the small shoulders of his borrowed body. “As I suspected. It doesn’t make a difference though because you will work for me.”

“I’m flattered,” I said, “but I’m independently wealthy and not very good at taking orders, so I think I’ll have to pass.”

“Oh, but you haven’t heard my offer.”

“World domination.”

He snarled.

I sighed. “It’s always world domination.”

“My purpose is so much greater. Why stop at a single world when we can rule the entire system? And from there…who knows? One day, the galaxy…”—he spread his tiny arms—“…no, the universe itself shall bow to our rule.”

“You have ambition. I’ll give you that.”

He chuckled. “You doubt it’s possible.”

“Anything’s possible,” I said.

“Yes, yes,” he replied. “If you only believe it bad enough and set your mind to it and work hard and blah blah blah. We’ve both heard that believe-in-yourself claptrap before, and we both know it for what it is. The wishful fantasies of lesser beings, of fools and idiots who think they can be more than the witless chattel they were destined to be.”

He cackled. His attempts to wring his hands together failed due to the limitations of mesmersaurus anatomy.

“If you want some advice,” I said, “you should probably try sparing the sinister laughter. It loses its punch after a while.”

“Doesn’t it bother you, Emperor, to walk among these pathetic Terran morons as if they were your equals? Don’t tell me it doesn’t because I know what it’s like. I know the frustration and rage that builds up inside of you while you watch these irrational creatures bumble about in their wretched lives.”

He trudged to me and bent down to look me in the face. “Don’t tell me you’ve never thought it.”

“Oh, I end up thinking that at least once a day. Usually several times a day.”

“So you admit it then. Deep down, in your heart—”

“Neptunons don’t have hearts. We circulate our blood via a system not unlike osmosis. Even if we had hearts, we’d avoid assigning them any functions outside of strict biological design. So you probably are trying to appeal to my basal ganglia.”

The Brain rolled his eyes. “Very well. Deep down, in your basal ganglia, you know you are destined to rule over these—”

“The basal ganglia aren’t in charge of perception. They’re more of an action and inhibition system.”

He glared. “You’re trying my patience, Emperor.”

“It’s only fair,” I replied, “seeing as how you’re trying mine. I don’t need to hear your offer. I’m not interested.”

“You doubt my capabilities? You think I can’t accomplish the unthinkable, achieve what no other being has managed? But history is full of great life-forms who have done the incredible because they dared to imagine what lesser creatures thought impossible.”

“I didn’t say I doubted. I said I wasn’t interested.”

He leaned in closer, having to tilt his jaws to one side to look me in the eye. “Where is your conqueror spirit, Emperor?”

“I’m over it.”

He pulled away and performed a mock gasp. “Oh, you’re reformed now. I keep forgetting.”

“Not reformed. Retired.”

“Is there a difference?”

“I’m not out to make amends for past sins. I couldn’t give a damn about the past and the crimes, as some might label them, I’ve committed. I did what I did, and now, I don’t do it anymore.”

He grinned sinisterly. “You can’t walk away from your destiny.”

“I’ve never believed in destiny. My personal philosophy is one of feigned entropic denial.”

“You can’t change who you are.”

“So everyone keeps telling me.”

The island quaked. The volcano rumbled. The sky started to turn yellow again. All signals that the anomaly neared critical collapse.

“Do you want me to tell you that I think the universe is run by stupid beings?” I asked. “Fine. I think it. Do you want me to admit that I think things would be better if more worthy leadership was in charge? Yes on that too. Do I think that my time as Warlord of Terra, despite some tumultuous moments, left the planet better off than when I got here? Without a doubt.

“But even if I wanted to rule the universe, I don’t see why it’s necessary to team up with you to do so. You’d only get in my way. But none of that changes anything because I don’t want to do it. I had my world domination fling. If you want to go out and conquer the universe, be my guest. Have at it. Just don’t expect me to tag along.”

The machine beside the anomaly exploded. Only a little. The shimmering hole in time turned a bright shade of orange, and a robot that was too close decayed into a pile of rusted parts within a few seconds. The other drones struggled to keep the machine in one piece.

“You should probably let me take a look at that before the galaxy implodes,” I said.

He stepped aside. “By all means…”

The worker robots moved out of my way as I inspected the machine. “You’ve really gone and made a mess of things.”

“Nothing you can’t fix, I’m certain.” He chuckled. “Don’t you see, Emperor? You already work for me. It was your initial research into the anomaly that gave me the foundation to build the time-ray receiver. It was your genius that allowed me to unlock the secret of reverse time projection.”

“You didn’t unlock it,” I said. “You stole it. From me.”

He grumbled. “I’ll admit that much of the groundwork was laid by you, but it was I who had the will and the vision to complete what you were too spineless to dare.”

“You do realize that certain insults don’t translate into invertebrate culture?” I asked.

He scowled. “You get the idea.”

“I do. You’ve taken science you don’t understand and are now making terrible mistakes with it.”

“Listen to yourself. There are no limits to what science can accomplish in the right hands.”

“Oh, I agree. I think we just disagree on who has the right hands.”

The anomaly radiated a blast of heat and friction that nearly knocked the machine over. The Brain backed away a few steps.

“Nothing to be concerned about, I assure you,” he said.

“Now that I’m here,” I replied, “but you already knew that, didn’t you?”

“Yes. The receiver works. It works! Once we removed a few needless safety features in your original design, we were able to accomplish the greatest feat of modern science. Communication through the very fabric of time itself! Can your limited imagination grasp the fantasticalness of this achievement?”

He laughed as the yellow-green skies seethed. Lightning flashed, and the volcano roared. I had to give him points for style, though I was too busy keeping the receiver from overloading and destroying the planet to appreciate the show.

“Has my violation of the feeble limits of knowledge rendered you mute with awe and terror, Emperor?”

“You wouldn’t happen to have a wrench on you?” I asked.

A robot handed me a tool, and I smacked the trembling receiver until its shaking stopped.

“Sometimes, you just have to remind science who is boss,” I explained. The machine rattled, but another whack quieted it to a dull roar. “It’s all in the wrist actuator.”

The robots brought me a variety of toolboxes, both reliable old favorites and cutting-edge devices, and I rummaged through them as the Brain watched.

“As for my limited imagination…haven’t we established that this machine was invented by me? And, by the way, I prefer to call it an anti-time radio.”

He nodded. “Yes, yes, you did create most of the basic design.”

“Mmm-hmm. Not to be a jerk or anything, but what exactly did you add that improved it?”

“Lots of things,” he said.

“Lots, you say?”

“They’re mostly little things. But vitally important to make the machine,
the reverse temporal receiver
, work.”

“Like removing the safety override that kept the
anti-time radio
from triggering singularities?”

“Yes.” He nodded. “Things like that. It was that needless override that kept the
reverse temporal receiver
from working.”

“Granted. But that was because I wasn’t certain it was worth the peril of destroying the galaxy to get the
anti-time radio
operational. There are limits to even what I’ll risk for science.”

“And those limitations are your weakness, Emperor.”

“I was Warlord of Terra,” I reminded him.

“You were,” he replied with a smug grin. “But you aren’t anymore, are you?”

He had me there, so I instead focused on using a screwdriver and a handheld particle accelerator to keep the anti-time radio from melting into a pile of slag.

“You might be the most brilliant mind in the system,” he said. “Next to mine, of course. But your refusal to risk everything means you can never accomplish what I will.”

“Your genius coupled with your ruthlessness make you the superior being. I get it, and I’m not interested in debating the subject. I couldn’t care less if you conquer the rest of the system. Have at it. It’s all yours. But you won’t do it with my science. Get your own. And you can’t have Terra. I conquered it first. And even though I let it go, it’s still mine in every way that counts.”

“Oh my,” he said. “Have you grown a soft spot for this little planet in that heart…osmosis-based circulatory system of yours?”

I turned from the machine. “I don’t get this.”

He smiled. “Do you need me to explain the finer workings of the device to you?”

“No, this”—I banged the machine—“this I get. I don’t get what we’re doing here. What is this conversation about?”

He smiled. “I’m taunting you.”

“Why?”

His smile dropped. “Because it’s part of how this is done. You’re at my mercy, so now I taunt you. I subject you to a game of verbal cat and mouse until you have no choice but to admit I am your superior. Or maybe I am slowly peeling away the layers of your psyche to expose a mental weakness, some crippling vulnerability that I can exploit.”

I thought back to the beginnings of my conqueror career. I had done some taunting then. It seemed so immature now, so self-indulgent.

“Or maybe you’re wasting my time,” I said.

The anti-time radio rattled, and I gave it a few smacks to calm it down.

“If you’re going to conquer then just do it. There’s no need for drawn-out speeches and veiled threats. Or at least aim those speeches at your minions and armies, if you insist. Although I always preferred robots, specifically for the reason that they didn’t require any of that.”

A robot handed me a tool, which I took.

“See? And I didn’t even have to worry about thanking it.”

I adjusted a few technical things on the anti-time radio while continuing to speak. “You’re obsessed with conquering the universe, but you don’t know why. Well, I’ll tell you why. It’s because you’re an insecure little brain with an inferiority complex who can’t think of a better way to get people to like you than to rule over them and force them to like you. Or at least pretend to like you.

“But even that won’t be enough for you. Because you’re not unhappy with the universe or the people in it. You’ll never be happy. And I can empathize a little, but it doesn’t mean I have to listen to you drone on and on about how incredible you are when it only demonstrates the differences between us and how you’re not much different than the chattel you look down upon.

“And, yes, I’m aware of the irony of me saying this, so don’t bother pointing it out. But consider it a warning because I’ve been where you’re going, and I wish you better luck with it. Although I only mean that in a very general sense because I will stop you.”

The dumbstruck Brain scowled. But at least he was quiet.

“I take it back,” I said. “Maybe I do see the point in taunting sometimes. Now keep quiet and let me get back to work.”

It took me fifteen minutes to convert the anti-time radio into a makeshift stabilizer. I had to jury-rig a few parts on the fly, but space-time repair via graviton manipulation was an art, an instinct. When it came to stuff like this, I usually relaxed and let my nervous system do the work. Thirty percent of Neptunon brain is distributed in little pockets here and there, and my primary and tertiary tentacles were pretty darn smart all on their own. My secondary tentacle was no slouch either, having once drawn up improvements for an exo while I slept. When a Neptunon hits the right rhythm, when every neuron is working in unison, it was a rare and beautiful thing. And repairing something as trivial as a hole in space-time was childishly simple.

The mesmersaurus watched me intently. He didn’t dare ask questions, not wanting to own up to his ignorance, but every so often I’d explain what I was doing because it annoyed him. I found this very satisfying.

“Now I’m stabilizing the gravimetric waves via a series of timed proton bursts,” I said.