Rick Carter's First Big Adventure (Pete's Barbecue Book 1) (17 page)

       “And that’s going to help?”  Rick asked doubting.

       “Not really but, it help give you sometin’ to tink about while you throwin’ up tho’.”  Pete finally smiled.  Then he entered the room behind Mel.  Rick stood alone outside waiting, contemplating his fate before he took a deep breath and plunged ahead.  He almost instantly regretted that decision.

     Nothing Rick had encountered up to this point had prepared him for his first exposure to reality warping.  The whirlwind conversations between their arrival at the airport and the room they were now entering hadn’t allowed enough time to remotely prepare him for it.  Nothing Mel had said or Pete had inferred could ever hope to bring him up to speed.
 
Encountering a full-fledged port room that is equipped with a reality warp is the same as having your senses thrown into a wind tunnel, a shark tank, a sped up merry go round and a HALO jump all at the same time.  There’s a nauseating dizziness, a blurriness to the eyes, an inexplicable smell of fried fish and the deafening sounds of two thousand black birds.  And that’s just from walking into the room.  Actually porting introduces a whole new set of sense distorting affects to the mix. 

     First, the room had no walls.  It had no floor or ceiling.  In fact, it didn’t look like a room at all.  It was another island.  It looked as though they had suddenly stepped onto another island with sand, sun, wind, palm trees and surf.  It was all there.  But it wasn’t Guam.  Rick was sure of that.  He was sure because the waves lapping up on the beach in front of him were pink and although he hadn’t been on the island all that long he was pretty sure there weren’t any beaches on Guam that had pink water.  That’s when he noticed the distinct smell of fried fish coming from somewhere.

     He turned to see the door closing.  When it clicked shut, it disappeared into the rest of the island.  They were now standing, alone on an island with pink water.  Rick stood speechless his senses being assaulted from all directions.  His ears were filled with the sounds of thousands of birds cawing all at the same time. 

     Mel looked around at the warp room unimpressed.  He had seen better.  But, Pete wasn’t known for his creativity.  He was known for getting the job done…and barbecue.  He quickly walked down the white sands of the gently sloping beach near the water mark where a rough-hewn stone pedestal stood.   Rick was too bewildered by the sudden onslaught to his mind to follow.  Pete came up to him and placed a broad tanned and wrinkled hand on his shoulder.  “I told ya.”  He said, but his words were lost in the vortex of sight and sound and smell and taste that was pounding Rick’s brain.

     Rick quickly looked at him with a pitiful and distraught expression on his face.  “I…um…this is…we…beach.”  Is all he could manage to say.

     Mel instantly sensed something was wrong.  He quickly turned around to see what the problem was and saw his old friend standing at the top of the dune with a glazed over look in his eyes that looked a lot like a bad acid trip.  He knew instantly what the problem was. “It’s your reality warp.”  He shouted up to Pete.  “He’s got a touch of reality pyschosis.”  He trudged back up the steep dune stopping underneath the palm tree where Rick was standing.  “I didn’t think he would react to it this bad.  What are we going to do with him now?”  Rick was babbling incoherently now, something about happy thoughts as a green hue began to creep across his face

      Pete shrugged and looked Rick over.  “Do de same ting I done to you when you first went loopy on me.”  He replied and started down the dune toward the same rough-hewn stone pedestal near the water with an unconcerned expression.

      “Okaaayyy.”  Mel said, and he reached back and slapped Rick across the face as hard as he could.  The sound of it was loud enough to send the purple and emerald macaws in the palm tree overhead scrambling loudly for another safer roost.

       Rick reacted predictably.  The natural color quickly returned to his face intensifying to dark red.  He instinctively reached back and belted Mel in the face with his fist, sending Mel tumbling backward into the sand and rolling undignified down the dune.  “Hey!”  Rick shouted.  “What the heck was that for?”   He rubbed the side of his face.

    When Mel finally came to a stop, he sat quickly up.  He had been hit a lot in his lifetime, sometimes for things he had done, other times for things he hadn’t done.  But, he had never been hit so hard and so unexpectedly.  He had forgotten how much power Rick could muster in his thick arms and chest.  He rubbed his jaw and made sure he still had all of his molars.

      Pete was laughing at him.  “Look at you.”  He chuckled heartily, his bifocals perched on the end of his nose inspecting the figures on the pedestal in front of him.

      Mel stood up and brushed himself off.  “That wasn’t funny.  I didn’t do that to you.”  He said to Pete.

     “Good ting too.  I woulda hit you back, bra.”  He said, and he began to tinker with some strange ornamental looking symbols on the surface of the pedestal.

      Rick came stumbling down the sandy slope.  “Hey, what did you slap me for?”  He practically yelled at Mel, who was still rubbing his face.

     “To snap you out of it.  You were in reality psychosis.” Mel replied.  He was still trying to get the fine sand out of his clothes.  “It happens to people the first time they’re exposed to a warp.  The mind has a hard time trying to cope with it. “

    “So, you slapped me?”  Rick asked harshly.

     “It worked!”  Mel said.  “Although, I’ve never had anybody punch me back.”

     “Sorry.”  Rick tried to be consoling. “It’s a reflex.”

      “I should have remembered,” Mel said sullenly, twisting his neck and shoulders to put every joint back into place.  “You always were quick reflexed.”

      Pete interrupted.  “I hate to break up da bondin’ moment, boys, but I’ve got da port set.  It time to rock.”  He said stepping away from the controls he had been working with.

  Mel looked at the stone pedestal then back to Rick.  “Okay, Rick.  I’ll be waiting here for you and Pete when you get back with Rog.”  He said with a smile.

    Rick’s face quickly fell.  “I’m still unclear on this whole thing about you not going.  I don’t even know where I’m going.”

     Mel took a deep breath. And put one hand on Rick’s shoulder.  “Look, you’re going to port with Pete over to the asylum and pick up Roger and bring him back.  Very simple, very quick, no fuss.”  He said slowly and gently.

     “Okay,” Rick replied in the same fake calming tone.  “But, why aren’t YOU going?”

    Mel stood back a little and looked uncertainly at Pete.  “Well, that’s a little complicated.”

     “I’m listening.”  Rick prompted him.

      “It’s not an easy thing to explain.”  Mel tried to re-emphasize. 

     Pete stepped up and tried to lend a hand.  “He’s right, bra.  He got to stay here.  Dere’s some really big reasons why.”

     Rick looked over at Pete.  “And those reasons are?”

     Pete looked at him troubled.  “Well, he…”

     Mel interrupted him. “I tried to tell you some of this in the car.”  He pleaded with his friend.

    “Which part, Mel?  The part about you and Rog being the same person or you leaving everybody when Pete kidnapped you?”  Rick grew frustrated.

     “I told you I wasn’t kidnapped…”  Mel started.

      Pete chuckled.  “You done told him dis stuff, huh?”

      Mel looked over at his mentor.  “Most of it.”

     Rick looked at semi-irritated.  “Whatever?  I’m still not getting the whole you can’t go along thing.”

      Mel stopped for a moment looking at his friend closely and pondering how to explain the physics involved.  “We can’t be together because we’re the same person, Rick.  Didn’t you get it?  Remember Ghosts Busters?”

      Rick looked at him confused.  “I’m not in the mood to play movie quotes, Mel.”  He coldly responded.

      “No, just follow me here,” Mel emphasized.  “Remember when Egon explained about crossing the streams?  Remember what he said would happen?”

      Rick nodded his head.  “Yeah?”

    “Well, think that way.  I am protected by a prime shield that comes from Company Headquarters.  It would protect us normally.  But, while Roger is in the asylum, an asylum built for him, he’s covered by another type of sphere built to help control his…um, mental issues.   If you brought me and him together under the same shield, the Prime Sphere wouldn’t help, and the destructive potential would be much worse…a lot worse, than just normal ever day exposure.  It would dramatically accelerate and intensify the destructive potential.”

       Rick looked at him doubtfully.  “Like what are you saying here?  End of the universe kind of stuff?”

      “Well, that’s the worst case scenario.”  Mel acknowledged.

     “What’s the best case scenario?”  Rick asked.

     “He and I would cancel each other’s realities out, and we wouldn’t exist anymore.  Kind of put a whole kabash on our long range plans to stop the next apocalypse.”  Mel shock hi head at Rick.

      “So, that’s why Pete and I have to go and you can’t?”  Rick asked him.

      Mel looked at him hopefully, praying that the quick analogy would suffice and that Rick was mentally able to grasp what he was telling him.  Finally, Rick nodded back and breathed a sigh.  “Okay then.  I can make do with that for now.”  He looked at Pete.  “You ready?”

     Pete grinned and nodded that he was.

      Rick looked at Mel Sternly.   “I’m gonna do this for you, Mel, because we’re friends, and you asked me to.  But, if this all goes horribly wrong, which I suspect it will…then I’m going to punch you again.  Really hard this time.”   Rick said.

     Mel smiled, forgetting that his jaw really hurt from Rick’s punch, then grimaced from the pain. “It’s a deal.”

    “You mind hittin’ the go button bra?”  Pete asked his protégé as he stood closer to Rick. “Rick you remember what I said about comin’ in here?  Get ready for worse den dat.” Mel went over to the stone pedestal and found the large carved button he was looking for and immediately pressed it.  Before Rick could protest a flash of very intense light surrounded the two of them and they were gone.

    Seasickness is a type of nauseating vertigo that, once experienced, one never forgets.  Rick had just recovered from reality pyschosis in the port room when he was suddenly introduced to a whole new level of it while porting with Pete to Roger’s sanitarium. The bright flash of the port had temporarily blinded him.  But, that didn’t really matter because where they ported into was pitch black and there was nothing to see.   But, his head felt like somebody had opened up the top of his skull and spun his brain around really fast.  The sensation was not pleasant in any sort of way.  While he was left dealing with trying to figure which way was up, down left and right, his body was confused about whether it wanted to empty the stomach contents, the bowel contents, the bladder contents or maybe a random combination of several at the same time.  Fortunately, he got ahold of that problem quickly and stopped it from doing either.  Finally, his head stopped spinning; his vertigo settled down, and he realized he was standing on something solid…completely in the dark.  He could tell, more by sensing it, that Pete was beside him.  They were both standing somewhere in the pitch black together.   Rick felt Pete’s reassuring hand.  He heard him whisper.  “Be very quiet.”

    Rick tried to take a step, but his foot was blocked by something in his way.  Unfortunately, for a man Rick’s size, it was next to impossible to recover from such a move and maintain his balance. His foot landed square in a metal mop bucket, and he twisted at the same time falling to the left, grabbing the door knob accidently while simultaneously opening the door and falling through it.  Luckily a hard white tiled floor stopped his fall.

   Rick found he had fallen very embarrassingly onto the floor of a semi-darkened hallway.  But, even exposure to that much light was blinding.  He squinted, tying to see down the hallway.  As far as he could tell, there was nothing or anyone there.

   Pete exited the utility closet over him and offered a hand up from the other side. “Bra, dat’s not very quiet.”

   When he got Rick to his feet, they both pushed the mob bucket back into the closet and quietly closed the door.   Rick was instinctively quiet, trying to control even the sounds of his breathing.  It was several seconds before he realized he had been holding his breath.   Pete put out of his hand and steadied him, putting a finger to his mouth to tell him to be quiet.  Then he pointed down the half lit hallway toward the ceiling.  There was some sort of device mounted there, but it was too deeply covered in shadow for Rick to see it clearly.  All he could make out was a green light flashing on its base.  Pete turned him gently until he was facing the opposite direction and he pointed at another one of the boxes in the ceiling at that end.  Then he repeated the shush sign and moved very close to Rick’s left ear.  “Voice an’ movement activated.”  He whispered almost imperceptibly.   Rick looked at him not understanding.  “Dart guns.  Knock you out in less dan a second.”

      “How are we going to get passed them?”  Rick asked just as quietly.

    “Skill,” Pete whispered back.  “Follow me.  Do jus’ what I do.”  He began to move quietly forward and closer to the wall until they were right against it inching their way forward.  They both kept their eyes on the flashing green light as they moved ever so quietly and slowly forward.  Finally, they made the thirty feet to the end of the hallway and were directly underneath the box.  Pete got Rick’s attention and pointed up at a large switch beside the green light about seven feet up.  The old Chamorro was too short to reach it, but he indicated he wanted Rick to stretch up and turn the switch.  Rick did so ever so slowly until he had it turned.  The green light changed to a blue one, and there was a sigh of relief from Pete.