How to Kill a Vampire in Outer Space by Brian Olsen

Author:Brian Olsen
Language: eng
Format: mobi, epub
Published: 2017-07-15T16:00:00+00:00

Two

I reappeared in a Mission Transit Room back at the Crossroads. I was in mid-jump and slightly higher up than I thought would be. I landed and tried to run out my momentum but the floor beneath my feet was soft and springy and I lost my balance, tumbling ass over elbow until I crashed into the similarly padded wall.

I sat up and grinned at the observation window, which was set high in the opposite wall. “Almost stuck that landing!”

The woman watching me from above shook her head. She leaned forward, her weary Eastern European accent sounding from a speaker beneath the window. “Agent Ryland, are dere any universes left vhich you haven’t had to escape from at top speed?”

“Only the dull ones.”

I lay back to catch my breath, staring up at the padded ceiling. Yes, the ceiling is padded too. Sometimes I come in at an upward trajectory. I lead an interesting life.

I scratched at my left wrist. It was warm from my spanner, the device which lets me travel between universes. A spanner looks like a thin silver bracelet, worn tight around the wrist like a watchband, but it’s a whole lot more than that. It’s got three tricks it can do for me, hardwired into it by my bosses. Universe-hopping is the first and most important. I’ll get to the others later.

The woman’s voice sounded again. “Vhenever you are ready, Agent. Or shall I come to you? You vant me to bring you a blanket and tuck you in all snuggly, maybe?”

I jumped to my feet and brushed the dust of Pirate World off my backside. “Sounds delightful, Angie, but don’t trouble yourself. I’ll be right up.”

I moved to the wall and a padded door slid open. I stepped into a small booth and the door closed. I was in darkness for only a moment before a circle of light appeared about fifteen feet above me. The floor rose and I emerged into the center of Control Room Twelve.

The Control Room was abuzz with noise, as usual. Seven of the walls in the octagonal room featured large cantilevered windows, which overlooked seven identical Mission Transit Rooms. Beneath each window were large, complicated control panels, with lots of buttons and lights and handpads and viewscreens, none of which I understood in the slightest. At each console sat a Mission Supervisor, monitoring their respective allotment of universes for any sign of trouble.

I stepped off the lift and it returned to the lower level. The hole in the floor seamlessly filled in behind it.

“And how are you today, Angie?”

Angeforce Colzystan was my very favorite Mission Supervisor. She was from Earth, like me, but one on which evolution had taken a slightly different turn. Her skin and hair were both a pale green and she had a third eye in the middle of her forehead. That third eye usually wandered, darting this way and that, but in reply to my question it joined its two lower neighbors to emphasize their withering look.

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