You Can't Kill the Multiverse
Also by Ira Nayman
from Elsewhen Press
Welcome to the Multiverse
(Sorry for the Inconvenience)
It’s just another day in the Transdimensional Authority, with teams of investigators doing what they do best (well, after breakdancing) – investigating. Bob Blunt is en route through a Dimensional Portal™ to Earth prime 4-7-5-0-0-7 dash iota to investigate cars exhibiting most uncarlike behaviours – ribbit! (Breaking all of the Transdimensional Authority rules…number 127, he is without his partner, ‘Breakfront’ Balboa, who is on leave after an unfortunate incident with the Vulvar Ambassador to Earth Prime and a staple gun). Beau Beaumont and Biff Buckley have already arrived on Earth Prime 5-9-2-7-7-1 dash theta to find themselves surrounded by machines whose only intention is to serve human masters – even if it kills them! Recently recruited TA investigator Noomi Rapier, with her partner ‘Crash’ Chumley, is on Earth Prime 6-4-7-5-0-6 dash theta where all matter at all levels of organisation (from sub-atomic particles to the universe itself) has become conscious. Meanwhile Barack Bowens and Blabber Begbie, taking the Dimensional DeLorean™ to Earth prime 4-6-3-0-2-9 dash omicron, face multiple apocalypses (already in progress), and Bertrand Blailock and Bao Bai-Leung are having trouble travelling to their intended destination: the home of the digital gods. At first, they all appear to be looking for unauthorised and probably counterfeit Home Universe Generator™s, but could what’s really happening be more sinister?
(Yes. Yes, it could. We wouldn’t want to leave you in suspense…)
Reviews of Welcome to the Multiverse (Sorry for the Inconvenience)
* * * * *
(Paul Levinson former president of SFWA, Science Fiction and Fantasy Writers of America)
“It [Welcome to the Multiverse] was freewheeling weirdness, with a distinctly Canadian bent.”
(Shirley Meier, author of The Fifth Millennium series)
“I sat nervously in the dentist office waiting to be called to the chamber of doom. My knuckles were white and it was a struggle to keep from bolting. I come from a generation when seeing the dentist was akin to vacationing in Spain during the inquisition. In any case, I opened my copy of Welcome to the Multiverse (Sorry for the Inconvenience) to distract myself and started reading. Moments later I erupted with a bark of laughter. The other people in the waiting room glanced at me like I had two heads. I kept reading trying to contain my mirth but it was no use. Another belly laugh tore out of me. I just couldn’t help it. Then a series of chuckles and another belly laugh. At that point the hygienist, with a sidelong glance, escorted me to my appointment. Welcome to the Multiverse (Sorry for the Inconvenience) is one of the funniest things I have ever read and it stays funny as the pages turn.”
(Stephen Pearl, author of Tinker’s Plague and Nukekubi)
“Ira Nayman is one of the funniest Canadian writers I know… This book is funny in the Douglas Adams sense of the world - crazy, funny bits you'd never think of on your own in a million years…”
(Nicole Chardenet, author of Sumer Lovin’)
“very dry, wry, sarcastic, sardonic, tongue-in-cheek, straight-forward and convoluted.”
(Mia Darien, author of Cameron's Law )
“[Welcome to the Multiverse] is science fiction in a way, comedy in a way and a detective novel in a way. Read it and you will be a changed person.”
(Geoff Nelder, author of ARIA)
“I really, really, really, really, really liked the book, and that is five reallys, so you know I mean it”
(Eric Swett, author of Apocalypse Rising)
“intelligently written in a confident and quite unique voice which engages and disarms in equal measure”
(Antony Jones, SF Book Reviews)
“My very first impression when I began to read Multiverse was that this was a book that appeared to be written by Terry Pratchett and Douglas Adams’ hyper-active love child.”
(Michell Plested, Irreverent Muse)
“one of the funniest sci-fi books I’ve ever read…it’s been a long time since I’ve read anything as good and inventive as this.”
(Risingshadow)
"This is a book that drips with satire, both the obvious critique and backhanded swipe… [although] Nayman is not above making goofy jokes."
(Kate Onyett, The Future Fire)
You Can’t
Kill
the Multiverse*
Ira Nayman
* But You Can Mess With its Head
Elsewhen Press
You Can’t Kill the Multiverse (But You Can Mess With its Head)
First published in Great Britain by Elsewhen Press, 2014
An imprint of Alnpete Limited
Copyright © Ira Nayman, 2014. All rights reserved
The right of Ira Nayman to be identified as the author of this work has been asserted in accordance with sections 77 and 78 of the Copyright, Designs and Patents Act 1988. No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system or transmitted in any form, or by any means (electronic, mechanical, telepathic, or otherwise) without the prior written permission of the copyright owner. The font Hornswoggled used by kind permission of the designer Nick Curtis. Original artwork by Hannah B Farrell. The character of Jerry Cornelius included by permission of Michael Moorcock, Multiverse Inc.
Elsewhen Press, PO Box 757, Dartford, Kent DA2 7TQ
www.elsewhen.co.uk
British Library Cataloguing in Publication Data.
A catalogue record for this book is available from the British Library.
ISBN 978-1-908168-29-0 Print edition
ISBN 978-1-908168-39-9 eBook edition
Condition of Sale
This book is sold subject to the condition that it shall not, by way of trade or otherwise, be lent, re-sold, hired out or otherwise circulated in any form of binding or cover other than that in which it is published and without a similar condition including this condition being imposed on the subsequent purchaser.
This book is copyright under the Berne Convention.
Elsewhen Press & Planet-Clock Design are trademarks of Alnpete Limited
Converted to eBook format by Elsewhen Press
This book is a work of fiction. All names, characters, places, agencies, organisations, goods, services, events, media, or alternate realities are either a product of the author’s fertile imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual realities, media, events, services, goods, companies, places or people (living, dead or alternate) is purely coincidental.
Ask Jeeves is a trademark of IAC Search & Media, Inc.; Assassin’s Creed is a trademark of Ubisoft Entertainment, Société Anonyme; Craigslist is a trademark of craigslist, Inc.; DeLorean is a trademark of DeLorean Motor Company Limited; Downton Abbey is a trademark of Carnival Film & Television Limited; Fox News is a trademark of Twentieth Century Fox Film Corporation; Friends is a trademark of Warner Bros. Entertainment Inc.; Google is a trademark of Google Inc.; Häagen-Dazs is a trademark of General Mills Marketing, Inc.; Mario Kart is a trademark of Nintendo Co., Ltd.; Merck is a trademark of Merck KGaA; Monty Python is a trademark of Python (Monty) Pictures Limited; My little pony and Nerf are trademarks of Hasbro, Inc.; Random House is a trademark of Random House LLC; Roger Rabbit is a trademark of Disney Enterprises, Inc.; Smurf is a trademark of STUDIO PEYO S.A.; Terminator is a trademark of StudioCanal Image S.A.; The Beatles is a trademark of Apple Corps Limited; Thomas the Tank Engine and Friends is a trademark of Gullane (Thomas) Limited; Volkswagen microbus is a trademark of Volkswagen Aktiengesellschaft. Use of trademarks has not been authorised, sponsored, or otherwise approved by the trademark owners.
Contents
Chapter One
 
; The Dragon of the Bagel
1. The Necromantic Uncertainty Principle in Action
2. Faith, Hope and Severity
2a.
3. When Jurisdictions Collide
4. There Be Dragons
ARNS: Precious Gifts from the Nosh Cupboard
5. “Trust me, I Know What I’m Doing!”
6. Coda Comfort
Chapter Two
The Rhododendron Who Cried Foul at Teatime
1. A Different Kind of Revival Meeting
2. “What Could Possibly Go Wrong?”
3. Garden of Robopocalyptic Delights
ARNS: Come for the Hot Oil Massages, Stay for the Duration
Chapter Three
That’s Prophetic!
1. A Touching Family Moment
2. Homage is Where the Heart is
3. The Future Comes When You Least Expect it
4. Traveling Hopefully, Then Arriving
ARNS: Going the Ex-tra Mile for Your Extreme Vacation!
5. “It can’t get any worse.”
6. Spaced Invader
7. Slo-mo Oh Oh
8. Perhaps It’s “Find the Whether and the Wherefore Will be Revealed…”
9. Prophecy Schmophecy!
10. Death Knell for an Extreme Vacations Supplier
ARNS: Happily Ever After May Be a Bit of an Exaggeration
Chapter Four
The Thought That Counts
1. Seeing and Believing are no Longer on Speaking Terms
2. How to Get a Head in Interrogation…
3. Science Will Get You Through Times of no Money Better Than Money Will Get You Through Times of no Science
4. “What are the odds?”
5. Going Head to Head With a Master Criminal!
6. Virtue Had Better Be Its Own Reward Because it Does Absolutely Nothing to Help You Climb the Career Ladder!
ARNS: Indistinguishable From Magic (And Twice as Ugly)
ARNS: Six Degrees of Desperation
Chapter Five
Whom the Gods Would Destroy They First Make Wait for Hours for Tech Support
1. Oral Wisdom Ain’t Worth the Paper It’s Printed On!
2. “There’s nothing in the basement. Here, let me show you…”
3. The Interrogation Comes to a Head
4. When Your Computer ‘Lost’ The File You Had Been Working on for Months, Who Did You Think You Were Praying to to Get it Back?
5. In Which an Important Fact is Not Explained
6. Games Gods Play
7. Slow Motion Solutions
8. To Your Scattered Bodies GET OUT OF HERE!
9. Time for One More Trick
10. The Dastardly Plan…Revealed!
Chapter Six
You Can Mess With its Head
1. Like the Chapter Title Says
2. Biff Buckley and Beau Beaumont
3. Bertrand Blailock (Without Bao Bai-Leung)
4. ?
5. Bob Blunt
6. Noomi and Charlemagne
Epilogue
1. Biff Buck – No. He’s Been Accounted For. Bertra – No, Him, Too. Bao Bai-Leung? He was in the Bertrand Blailock wrap-up. What? He wasn’t? Well, His Presence Was Implied. Yeah. Implied. We Just Had Noomi And Charlemagne – Who’s Left?
Chapter One
The Dragon of the Bagel
1. The Necromantic Uncertainty Principle in Action
All of the ingredients – many of which were difficult to find in this heathen realm – had been collected. The eyes of various beasts were freely available at a specialty market in Kensington. Various herbs could be found in what the people of this realm called “supermarkets,” where they were sold for pittances. The blood of a virgin was a little harder to come by, but, after three tries, the wizard found one by surfing through a place on a magical scrying glass called Craigslist. The young woman – Gladys Kravitz of Niagara Falls – seemed immune to his charms, so the wizard drugged her drink – purely in the name of world domination! – and took the serum that he needed. When she woke up the next day, she would be weak and woozy and have an uncontrollable craving to eat jelly beans, but at least she would wake up the next day. For what good that would do her.
The wizard read the prognosticatory pages of many of the local papers (such as The Star and The Globe) to determine when the moon would be at its fullest. While there, he picked up this nugget of wisdom: ‘Today will not be a good day to start a new project’. And, indeed, it would not be a good day FOR THE CREATURES WHO LIVED IN THIS REALM! He would have laughed evilly at this thought, but the steam from the ingredients coming to a boil in the cauldron was playing havoc with his asthma, so the wizard settled for a wicked grin and the promise of much evil laughter to come.
“Alzabracheem fectid barada nictu,” the wizard intoned as his hands snaked in front of him and he put the fourth toe of his left foot in, he put the fourth toe of his left foot out, he put the fourth toe of his left foot in and he shook it all about. As the stench from the boiling cauldron contents started to grow, his chanting became louder and his motions more animated. Part of him suspected that his landlady, Missus Schmelson, would give him no end of grief if she was unable to get the smell out of the drapes, but it was a small part of him, easily ignored as the dark ritual reached its climax.
“ALZABRACHEEM FECTID BARADA NICTU!” he shouted, his motions becoming what can only be described as ‘frenzied’.
“ALZABRACHEEM KLAATU BARADA NICTU!”
Then, just as the wizard feared he would collapse from exhaustion before the climax of the ritual…there was a mild ‘poof’ and a wisp of pale grey smoke rose out of the cauldron before it was dissipated by the air conditioning. (It was a humid July night, okay? Where does it say that casting a world-threatening spell has to be done in discomfort?)
This was not what the wizard had been promised by the Malificient Malefactorum de Maliciosi. He was expecting the sky to darken and blood to rain from the clouds. He was expecting a rumbling so deep it shook the earth with a trembling, fearsome [MODERN ENGLISH TRANSLATION: a fearsome trembling]. He was expecting various demons to pour forth from a hole in the universe, create a little havoc, then await his command. He was expecting to hear cries of terror from the street, the horrific wailing of those whose comfortable, familiar world had turned into a nightmare. When you are expecting the horrific wailing of those whose comfortable, familiar world had turned into a nightmare, poof and a wisp of pale grey smoke just don’t cut it.
He couldn’t understand what had gone wrong – the wizard had been studying the Malificient Malefactorum de Maliciosi since his uncle Maladroissier had given it to him for his fifth birthday. He consulted the great book of evil spells. Over over sideways over under sideways down – he had clearly done the hand gestures properly. Same with the incantation – his southern accent may have distorted the words a little, but the meaning should have been clear. The contents of the cauldron were still bubbling, so the wizard tried the incantation again, this time enunciating the words more clearly and making the hand gestures more slowly and fluidly. He was rewarded with a ‘pop’ and acrid orange smoke. No blood raining from the sky. No horrific wailing of…you know.
It wasn’t because the wizard was fat BECAUSE THE WIZARD WASN’T FAT, OKAY? His…overabundance of physical presence was pure muscle. Mostly. Well, damn the pox-eyed pusillanimosity of Polidor, anyway, who said evil sorcerers all had to be tall and thin? Other than all of his teachers at Worthags, the school for evil sorcerers (where, okay, fine, sure, he had to admit that he had only graduated 23rd in his class – middle of the pack – not bad, but not enough to get you into the really top flight covens. Look, the important thing is that he did get his degree, and it qualified him to practice the dark arts every bit as much as Jimmy Malfantome, Marise Maldarictor or any of the other students who had graduated ahead of him, okay? Anyway, he would have done much better if he hadn’t had to take Zombies in seventh grade – zombies, uuuuuuugh! But, Animal Familiars was
full – what can one do? He knew he shouldn’t dwell on the past so much, but, really…umm…what was he talking about, again? Oh, right…) And, all of the other students. And, his parents. And Evelina Malaproptor, authoress of The 25 Bad Habits of Really Successful Warlocks. Still, he thought, surely evil isn’t about how much you weigh, but about the content of your heart. Your dark, bile-filled heart.
The wizard screamed in frustration. Almost immediately – with unseemly haste, actually – somebody banged on his floor from below. “Sorry, Missus Rosinante,” he shouted. “I…I stubbed my toe. It was very painful, as you might –” The tenant below banged on his floor a couple more times with greater urgency. “Right. Right. Sorry,” he mumbled to himself. He imagined the blood raining down especially hard on her head.
It was late and he was discouraged. Deciding to call it a night, the wizard turned off the burner on the stove and moved the cauldron to a cold burner. A conscientious evil sorcerer will always clean up his workspace as soon as he has cast his last spell (or, so Evelina Malaproptor would have one believe), but his heart wasn’t in it. The cleaning would have to wait until morning.
The wizard went to bed, oblivious to the croaking that was coming from the street outside his window.
2. Faith, Hope and Severity
“Frogs?” Superintendent McCrae barked in disbelief.
Faith and Hope looked at each other as though that could somehow change the answer. It didn’t. So, they looked back at their boss and Hope responded, “Yeah. Frogs.”