Max and the Snoodlecock: Max and the Multiverse, #2 by Zachry Wheeler

Author:Zachry Wheeler
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: max and the multiverse, max and the snoodlecock, zachry wheeler
Publisher: Mayhematic Press
Published: 2017-11-13T07:00:00+00:00

* * *

Max awoke on a dry sofa with his body upright, open palms to either side, feet flat on the floor, and head flopped on the rear cushion (standard frat house pass-out position). Lips smacked to moisten a parched tongue. The cool air, some of the cleanest he had ever tasted, came as a welcome reprieve. No gills or rave music, just a calm oxygen-rich environment. He opened his eyes to a dim pane of tarnished metal a few meters above the couch. Max decided to stare at the ceiling for a little while, a needed mental break before assessing the lunacy of the new predicament. An orb of soft light floated through his peripherals, detached and hovering just below the roof. A handful of orbs wandered the room like glowing soap bubbles. They bounced off walls and each other like a slow-motion pinball machine.

The creaks and clanks of whatever space he occupied needled a throbbing headache. Max lifted from the cushion and slumped forward, resting elbows on knees. Limp hands rubbed tired eyes and smoothed down a chaotic hairdo. He took time to admire the sofa, a tobacco leather chesterfield with high back and bronze rivets. Roaming eyes surveyed the room, a large metal box with no windows, a single door, and a slender yellow creature sitting in a folding chair. Max recoiled at the sight, then sighed with annoyance.

The creature stared at him with a composed demeanor. A set of eyestalks lifted from a domed head, rigid yet calm. Its fishy mouth frowned with an almost comical downturn, disposing of any intended menace. Slender arms and legs folded atop each other with the poise of a therapist about to dish out some uncomfortable truths.

“Greetings, Earthling,” the creature said with a touch of arrogance.

“Hey, Carl.”

The creature flinched and shifted his eyes. His rickety chair squeaked upon the floor as he struggled to regain a threatening presence.

Max glanced around the room again, then back to Carl. “Did you know that your smarty club is an actual club in another universe?”

Carl opened his mouth to respond, then clamped it shut in total bemusement.

Max clued into the fact that his body and clothes were clean. All mud had disappeared, leaving his skin nourished and garments fragrant. An armpit sniff, now minty fresh, left him with an uncomfortable sense of personal violation. He turned a miffed gaze to Carl. “Did you—ugh, do I even want to know?”

Carl shook his head.

Max fell back into the sofa and crossed his arms.

“Do you know where you are, Earthman?” Carl said, conjuring a ghoulish baritone.

“Somewhere on a Suth’ra station, I suppose.”

Carl flinched and stammered, then recomposed himself. “The Suth’ra are a—”

“A bunch of super-smart alien nerds,” Max said like a wiseass. “I know who you are, goober. The question is, what do you want from me?”

Carl huffed as if the human had insulted his wife. (Not that any members had spouses. Wanted? Sure. Had? Not a chance. Their legendary ineptitudes relegated courtship to the elusive realms of social competence.

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