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Non Sequitur the Equitaur.
16. ULTRAVIOLENT CATASTROPHE

16. ULTRAVIOLENT CATASTROPHE

ONBOARD THE ZEPPELIN ERYMANTHIA.

“Sidecut,” said the mouse.

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║ UNLOCK: SIDECUT. RESTART MEMORY, ACCELERATED.

║ MEMORY UNLOCKED. HERE’S WHAT REALLY HAPPENED.

Ᵽ >>THIS IS A FAST FORWARD PICOID. OUR WHOLE PLAN IS ABOUT TO HAPPEN. I’M UNLOCKING CRUCIAL STAGES OF YOUR MEMORY IN ABOUT THREE SECONDS.

Ping. The red hot end of a cable whipped past Non, knocking over a first aid cabinet. The weasel’s jacket fell to Non’s hooves.

Ᵽ DO SOMETHING, AGENT! DON’T JUST STAND THERE!

“My Dad has a hydra eye!” said Non. Specifically, one of Lernea 3’s eyes with a green laser.

Ᵽ THANK YOU, AGENT OBVIOUS. USE THE CABINET FOR COVER!

Non moved the cabinet off the unconscious weasel.

Ᵽ I SAW AN AMMONITE INSIDE WITH TENTACLES ON A PERSON’S HEAD. MIND CONTROLLERS AND MIND READERS VERIFIED.

Ñ̰ WHERE ARE YOU?

Ᵽ I’M NEAR THE HOOF ACCESS. I HAVE AN IDEA. GET THE WEASEL’S JACKET AND JOIN ME.

Non got the jacket, then rushed to the boar zeppelin’s rear hoof.

Ñ̰ WHY DID I GET THE JACKET?

Ᵽ IF CAPTURED, YOU’LL REMEMBER TALKING. WHAT MIGHT THE WEASEL SAY?

Ping. Ping. Ping. The zeppelin lurched, then started upward.

“I’m not sure we want to be on this ride,” said Non, forcing his staff under his surcingle. The crawlspace featured support braces every meter to keep the fabric tubular.

Ᵽ THAT’S GOOD. YOU HAVE A HALF METER CLEARANCE. ANYTHING ELSE?

“Aha! Nobody expects outlandish equiposition. Our chief weapon is surprise and ludicrousy!”

Ᵽ BAD HORSE. FIND SOME SCRAP PAPER AND YOUR HOOF KNIFE. THE GYRO WRAPPER, GOOD.

Non held the knife and wrapper. “We have to be careful; these walls are fragile.”

Ᵽ REALLY?

The woodpecker turned to look into the equitaur’s eyes, seeming to smile like a prankster. Then Picoid deliberately poked a hole in the fabric and flew off.

Ᵽ BLAME THE WEASEL. CUT YOUR ARM AND PATCH THAT BEFORE YOU DIE. I NEED TO SCOUT.

“Dammit.” Non collected blood from near his horso nostrils, patching the hole with the wrapper and his blood. ‘Damn you, weasel.’ He imagined the weasel cutting the hole.

Ᵽ GOOD. CONTINUE HAVING WEASEL THOUGHTS.

Ñ̰ WHAT WAS THAT FOR?

Ᵽ FOR THE BAD GUYS TO FIND WEASEL EVIDENCE. KEEP MOVING. TYCHO, CALCULATE TIME TO BURSTING.

║ DATA POINT: WEATHER BALLOON, 90 MINUTES. I REMEMBER LOVING BALLOONS ON EARTH! BUT THEN YOU HAD TO GET THE RUBBER BITS AWAY FROM ME OR I’D CHEW THEM. INITIAL CALCULATION, 15 MINUTES.

Ᵽ LEAVE THE JACKET AT THE BRANCH. SAY GOODBYE TO THE WEASEL. FOCUS ON YOUR GOALS.

Non committed the sewn name to memory. Ricki. He put the jacket on a ladder leading up.

Ñ̰ GOALS. KEEP FROM BURSTING. SAVE MY MIND-CONTROLLED FATHER IN A FRAGILE ZEPPELIN.

“Attention, all aboard the Erymanthia. Pilots report to the bridge immediately. Others report to the dining room. You will not be harmed,” said a voice over the intercom.

>>Ᵽ FAST FORWARD. THIS UNFILTERED MEMORY WOULD HAVE BEEN A TIME STAMP. I REMOVED IT WHEN RICKI CAPTURED YOU. WE DON’T KNOW WHO THAT WAS. TO AVOID A MEMORY LOOP, WE SKIPPED A CAN OPENER SCENE.

Non clenched his teeth, then moved past the kitchen with the can opener in his feedbag.

Ᵽ HERE’S WHERE YOUR FATHER LOST HIS LEFT EYE.

Non saw Picoid’s vision of the Cargo Prep room in steerage. A ramp allowed easy loading, then an elevator led up to the larger area under the inflation zone.

Ñ̰ I’LL PREP CARGO PREP FOR BOTH CAPTURE AND ESCAPE. PICOID, FIND SOMEONE TO CAPTURE ME.

Non lowered himself into a music room, then paused at a fancy hourglass. He snapped the stem and carried the sand bulbs, leaving a sand trail. Port. Down. In 3D Printing, he started a print of his badge.

║ BURSTING TIME, 12 MINUTES.

Ᵽ MOUSE IN FRONT OF CRAFT SENT TO MEET SOMEONE IN BACK OF CRAFT. THEY HAVE COMMS. SEE MAP.

In cargo prep, he patted the remains of Lernea 3. Another crate of ice held the eyeless head of Lernea 5. “You didn’t deserve this, Lernea. Icosian, if I braced you, could you hold the zeppelin up?”

║ HOVERING DRAINS MY POWER AND IS LIMITED TO A MEGANEWTON. MAYBE FOUR MINUTES?

“Right.” Non gathered himself, then went through the motions to enact his plan. ‘1. Turn on wrapping robot. 2. Use badge to make sure mouse finds sand trail. 3. Secure staff under table.’

║ I CAN DO 2 AND 3!

‘4. Arrange parachutes at bottom of ramp, tie ropes to table. 5. Add a strong strap to table after making sure it’s not anchored.’

Anchor bolts panicked Non, but he remembered seeing a power impact wrench. Whirr, whirr.

║ I CLANKED THE BADGE. THE MOUSE IS NOW FOLLOWING THE SAND. YOU CAN SUMMON THE BADGE.

‘6. Summon and tape real badge to lever for ramp. 7. Get fake badge.’

Non walked back to 3D Printing for the fake badge, tied his tail, waited for the mouse to walk by, then followed. At the Crew Only closet he grabbed a pole near the squeegees.

║ BURSTING TIME, 8 MINUTES.

An errant scratch on his taurjoin covered his hand in blood. He scraped that on a hoof as he went over steps he hoped to enact, leaving a bloody hoofprint.

The narrative has been taken without permission. Report any sightings.

‘8. Talk to Dad. 9. Fight mouse. 10. Drop fake badge. 11. Put can opener in my mouth. 12. Trip into the wrapper robot. 13. Flail as my head gets wrapped. 14. Let Picoid scramble things.’

He then faced the mouse, Murphy Roths Large. They had a chat. As his head got wrapped, he recalled the SF story I Have No Mouth and I Must Scream.

‘In Harlan’s story, they needed a can opener. I set this as my memory unlock key.’

END MEMORY

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Non felt his memories rapidly shuffle around, returning to normal as the fog of confusion left him.

Ᵽ WHAT ARE YOU WAITING FOR?

Ñ̰ USE GISH GALLOP TALENT TO FORCE FEED FINNEGANS WAKE DIRECTLY INTO STEN’S BRAIN.

The ammonite writhed in agony at the literary artillery and telepathically screamed for help but quoted James Joyce instead.

“Cryptoconchoidsiphonostomata erupt into this de-realized wordscape with unforgiving regularity!”

“What?” asked the mouse.

Before Murphy could dispel his confusion, Non activated a vector with his badge to pull the attached lever, opening the ramp. Suddenly on a downslope, the water tank rolled away as the ammonite wrapped around Non’s head.

“Stop that! Sten, what’s going on?”

Parachutes deployed and dragged the table down the ramp. The tank and water fell away. The dark thunderstorm outside wasn’t part of the plan. The table dropped out into it, held by the strap.

Despite a bucking table and a giant ammonite biting his head, Non used his badge to close the ramp with himself outside, then summoned it to his surcingle to use more vectors.

After the ramp closed, Picoid flew from the side of the zeppelin to land on the equitaur’s right arm. The woodpecker put a knife in Non’s hand and pecked at the bindings.

“I have met with you, bird, too late,” said the ammonite, abrading Non’s scalp. ‘It’s going to grab Picoid!’ He thrashed his head around as the ammonite’s raspy tongue licked at his skull.

Picoid dodged a tentacle, trying to stay away, then almost got crushed against the bottom of the deck. Blood from Non’s head spattered on Picoid before he resumed pecking. Sten grabbed the knife in a tentacle and flung it into the storm. ‘Dammit!’

Sten probed Non’s left eye with a tentacle. He couldn’t steady the table, it weighed too much.

Ᵽ TRY TO BREAK THE ROPE NOW!

With adrenaline fueling him with manic strength, he forced his hand against the table harder until the bindings snapped. After a few uncontrolled bangs, he ripped the serrated suckers off his head on one side, then the other, holding both pedipalps away from his face.

“Neverheedthemhorseluggarsandlisteltomine,” said the Joyce-stuck ammonite.

‘A nonce word.’

He smashed the wagon wheel sized shell against the deck and table over and over. With sharp jagged shell edges and the grisly beak, he cut the rope on his neck and the tape on his mouth.

║ CAREFUL! SUMMON ME FIRST. I’M ATTACHED TO THE TABLE.

He summoned his staff from beneath the table and face-bashed the deck in a new way. Growling, he unbound his legs as rain washed over him, then removed the belts. Held just by the strap now, the table got one more good whack at him before he cut it away.

‘Whew.’ A severed pedipalp still writhing on his arm made him shudder. ‘Don’t scream. Balance.’

Closing the ramp while outside was part of the plan, but slippery rain wasn’t. He’d barely practiced balancing upside-down against Icosian. The badge helped. But he had to be quiet.

Non under the zeppelin. [https://i.imgur.com/kuEOtOy.png]

Ᵽ I WENT BACK INSIDE. I’M SPYING ON CARGO PREP. MURPHY GOT HIS WALKIE-TALKIE. I’LL SHARE WHAT I HEAR.

“MAYHEM, THIS IS MURPHY. CAN YOU GET SOMEWHERE PRIVATE?”

“BETTER BE IMPORTANT. OCTAVIAN WANTS TO YELL AT ME MORE. GO AHEAD.”

“THE RAMP OPENED. STEN AND THE EQUITAUR DROPPED OUT INTO THE STORM. THEY’RE GONE.”

“WHAT? I’M COMING DOWN THERE.” MAYHEM SOUNDED INCREDULOUS.

“JUST ME HERE, MAYHEM. THEY’RE GONE. DON’T LET HIS DAD FIND OUT.”

“HOW DID SOMEONE CONTROL THE RAMP REMOTELY? CAN YOUR NOSE SMELL THE WEASEL?”

“HIS JACKET IS TOO CLOSE. IS IT A BRIDGE FUNCTION? ASK THE LASER EYE ENGINEER.”

“BAH! FIRST OCTAVIAN, THEN TARANIS, NOW THIS. HEAD TO THE DINING ROOM. I NEED HELP WITH SURGERY.”

The mouse took money from the weasel’s jacket and left on the elevator.

║ TARANIS CONTROLS THE STORM. ARPANET LOCALLY JAMMED.

‘Weather control. Cloud seeding uses silver iodide that has a crystal structure like ice. A lattice of entanglements in a storm could provide control like–’

Ᵽ AGENT BAT, DID YOU PLAN TO STAY THERE UPSIDE DOWN?

Ñ̰ WHAT’S THE RIGHT THING TO DO?

Ᵽ A QUESTION I ASK MYSELF CONSTANTLY. WHAT ARE YOUR GOALS?

‘Goals? What surgery? What is Mayhem doing? Save Dad? Do something, at least! I need to move!’

Spurring himself into motion, Non tasked Tycho with the dual vectors as he followed access tube supports to the top of the craft. He immediately started sliding in an unexpected direction before falling against the slick surface. He struggled to keep his body pressed against the slippery zeppelin without his hooves or staff ripping it open and stopped near the tail.

║ MY TENSORS WERE WRONG, SORRY.

Ñ̰ IT’S OKAY. STABLE VECTORS FOR A MOVING ELLIPSE ROULETTE ARE COMPLICATED.

Non examined the standing problem first, then considered returning to cargo prep. A few minutes of math gave the vectors needed to safely traverse the outside of a moving zeppelin.

Ᵽ MAYHEM AND LAGEN TALKING. SHARING SOUND. I’M HIDING NEAR THE BRIDGE.

“LAGEN! I APPRECIATE YOU FLYING THIS CRAFT. I BROUGHT A PLATTER. HOW MUCH TIME?” SAID MAYHEM.

“TWENTY MINUTES. HOW’S MY SON?” SAID LAGEN.

“FIRST CLASS! HE’S THRIVING. I DO WONDER ABOUT THE CARGO PREP RAMP, THOUGH. THE TABLE HE’S ON IS THERE, AND I PLAN TO LEAVE EARLY WITH PARACHUTES. DO YOU FORESEE ANY TROUBLE?” SAID MAYHEM.

“SO LONG AS YOU DON’T HURT HIM. WAIT, YOUR EYE. MY EYE! WHAT DID YOU DO WITH MY EYE?”

“IT’S ON THE PLATTER. SEE? THE DEAD MAÎTRE D’ HAD A MORE COMPATIBLE EYE THAN YOURS. I KNOW FROM EXPERIENCE THE HYDRA EYE HURTS. THOUGHT YOU MIGHT LIKE YOUR OLD EYE BACK.”

“IT’S EXCRUCIATING,” SAID LAGEN. “WHY BOTHER HELPING ME NOW?”

“SHOULD I GO FOR A FULL CYRANO? TO KEEP YOUR SON FROM BEING TOO VENGEFUL. WITH YOUR REGENERATION, IT’S FUN. I LOSE A FORTUNE TO TARANIS IF THE CRAFT CRASHES. YOU HELPED WITH THE TARANIS DEAL. OCTAVIAN YELLED AT ME ABOUT YOUR INVOLVEMENT. COULD BE DANGEROUS FOR THAT TO STAY INSIDE YOU. YOUR LASER RANGE EXCEEDS MY CONTROL RANGE. I WANT TO GET THE CONTROL GEAR OFF YOUR HEAD TO USE IT ON SOMEONE ELSE. WHEN THE MORNING COMES YOU’LL THANK ME. AMAZING GRACE PLAYED AND I RECONSIDERED. PART OF MY MEGAMIND SCHEME. TAKE YOUR PICK AND LAY DOWN.”

Ñ̰ HOW MANY LIES? BELIEVE MAYHEM? STOP THEM FROM LEAVING? ARE THEY LEAVING? WHY JUMP NOW?

Ᵽ YOU NEED TO GET SOMEWHERE SAFER. USE THOSE VECTORS.

Non stood atop the zeppelin, opening the flap for the access tube leading down to the main cargo area, holding his staff up high while pushing his hind hooves down. ‘Why is my hair standing on end?’

Then a lightning bolt struck Icosian. Blankness.