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From: Andrew Roller <roller39@IDT.NET>
Subject: The Fading Universe  part 4 of 7  (NND)


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                         _/_/_/_/_/_/_/_/_/_/_/_/_/_/_/

                                  Andrew Roller Presents
 
                                   THE FADING UNIVERSE

                         _/_/_/_/_/_/_/_/_/_/_/_/_/_/_/

                                     Chapter Five

         "Perry spotted this beautiful blonde little girl, see, playing
in a corridor," Flaherty explained to Marvin.
         "And he ran after her," Marvin wryly concluded, guessing
Flaherty's next sentence.
         "Right," the corpulent youth continued.  "She ran twenty or
thirty yards, weaving in and out between the pillars of machinery, and
then suddenly slipped between the metal frame of an open door and was
gone.  Perry sprinted up to the door, hesitated a moment, and then leapt
in after her.  By the time I reached the door they had both
disappeared."
         "Then what?" Marvin asked, his voice distorted with nasality,
for he was pinching his nostrils shut with his thumb and forefinger. 
He, Flaherty, Frankie, and Harrigan were sitting precariously on a
narrow shelf, their feet dangling over the edge just inches above the
foam crusted waters of a giant cesspool.  A low ceiling, thick with the
tendrils of dangling algae, extended over the waste to a horizon where
it seemed to merge with the foul sea.  A Stellite doorframe arched over
them, delineating the square black cavity that stood at their backs.
         "Me and Harrigan thought the girl might have some lovely little
brothers," Frankie told Marvin.  "You were still out of it, so we
figured we better just take you along.  Of course, Flaherty was afraid
of being left alone in the dark," Frankie smirked.
         "I was not!"  Flaherty objected.
         "So where are we now," Marvin asked.  "Lover's leap?"
         "Beats me," Frankie said.  "There sure aren't any cute little
boys around here."
         "Wait a minute," Flaherty said.  "What's that?"
         A small raft appeared to be floating toward them, manned by a
figure in a yellow hat and raincoat.  Beside him stood a companion.
         "Ho there," a gray-bearded man called from the bark as it drew
near.  "Taking a tour of the sewer?"
         "Not quite," Marvin replied.  "Could you give us a lift?"
         "It'll cost you," a boy beside the old man piped up.
         "Now, now," the senior said.
         "And no traveler's checks!"
         "Not even," and here Marvin paused theatrically as he stepped
down onto the raft.  "Not even American Express?"
         "No way!"  the boy shouted.
         The old man chuckled.
         "But I will take Playboys if you got 'em."
         "How about Blueboy?"  Harrigan asked.  "That's my favorite,
isn't it, Frankie?"
         "Blueboy?" the lad blurted.  "Good God, gran'pa, throw these
gays o'erboard into the shit!  They won't need to excavate for it if
they're swimmin' in it!"
         "I'm no queer," Flaherty blustered.
         "Says you!"  The boy replied.  "Birds of a feather flock
together, that's what I've always heard."
         "Not me!"  Flaherty hollered.  "Why, I'd play with myself
before I'd ever even think of being a fag!"
         "A preventative he employs every night to insure his thoughts
never stray," Frankie added.
         "Don't mind my boy," the elderly man laughed.  "He's a bit
precocious.  Actually, I came out here to get you.  The ride won't cost
you a thing."
         "How did you know we were here?"  Marvin asked.
         "You blew out my power generator when you came through that
Door," the old man said, gesturing at the tenebrous alcove.  "Chip here
and I, we try, but we can't keep up with all the maintenance down here. 
This cistern was built for a crew of fifty, not for an old salt and a
stripling.  But we keep it going, just like my father did, and his
before that.  Family tradition, you know."
         "You mean you, you live down here?"  Flaherty asked in
amazement.
         "Sure, gay boy.  An' work too," Chip said.  "What do you think
happens to all yer shit when you flush the john?  You think it just
evaporates or somethin'?  Didn't it ever occur to you that someone has
to process all that muck so it can get fed back up to yer tap?"
         "Tell me," Marvin said to the old man.  "What's this business
with the doorway?"
         "Ah, you must never have traveled through one before.  They're
probably all shorted out in your area.  Where are you from, son?"
         "Ontario."
         "Now that's a place I never heard of," the old man mused.  "But
I have picked up a person or two in the sewer before, totally
bewildered, stumbled through a Door somewhere and landed here."
         "Does everyone who steps into a Door come out down here?" 
Marvin asked.
         "Oh, no.  There are Doors scattered all through the universe,"
the old man explained.  "You just step into one anywhere and it'll take
you wherever you like.  Just line up the co-ordinates."
         "Like Flaherty tried to do when we stepped into that doorway on
the outskirts of Ontario," Frankie glared.
         "Just 'cause you didn't get to travel to pretty little girl and
boy land, like Perry," Flaherty sniped.
         "It's a bit tricky, operating the Doors.  Chip here could
probably explain it to you better than I.  I don't care for 'em myself;
being dissolved into protoplasm, beamed across the universe, re-formed
on the other side.  Haven't stepped into one for thirty years."
         "Say, I'm pretty handy with tools, if you need help fixing your
generator," Flaherty volunteered.
         "Ha!  You?  You couldn't screw your dick into a pocket pussy,"
Frankie sneered.
         Flaherty's paunchy cheeks reddened.  "You have no regard for
etiquette," he snapped at the dwarf.  "I'm sure I could be of assistance
to this man in some fashion."
         "Now there's an interesting fact; about the generator," the old
man said.  "Usually, if there's a problem somewhere in the electrical
lines the generator will shut down to protect itself from an overload. 
But in the case of the Doors, it works just the opposite.  Because human
life is involved, the generator will burn itself out rather than click
off and leave someone to dissipate between Doors."
         Suddenly the old man tensed.  He spun around and picked up a
laser rifle.  Marvin heard a frothing sound.  To his right a massive
serpentine fornix flexed above the water, then dove beneath the foam.  A
moment later the head burst forth, and with a roar the viper's jaws
descended upon them.  The old man fired the rifle, hitting the creature
square on the forehead.  With a shriek, the sloped cranium of the snake
plunged beneath the sea, drenching all aboard the raft in pungent spray. 
          "Damn you, Rover!"  Chip cursed.
         "Next time I won't set the gun on stun," the old man called
after the reptile.
         A bubbling snarl was heard, the monster's back arched above the
waves once more as he retreated, and then there was silence.
         "Rover?"  Flaherty asked Chip.  "Rover?  I suppose you have a
very good reason for naming that giant snake Rover instead of, say,
Spot?"
         "Sure.  He roams the sewer.  Sounds like a good name to me,"
Chip said.
         Suddenly the snake surfaced again with a deafening cry. 
Flaherty leapt backward across the raft, eyes bulging with fright.
         "It's a marvelous name, terrific, first rate!"  Flaherty
screeched.  "I'm even considering changing my own name to," he gulped,
"Rover."  And with that Flaherty collapsed to the deck.

###

         "What are you laughing at?"  Flaherty asked angrily.
         "The way you fainted when that sewer snake let out a defeated
growl," Frankie chortled.
         "Don't you care that we're lost?"  Flaherty cried.  "This is a
serious matter!"  He, Frankie, Harrigan, and Marvin were trudging
through a dusky labyrinth.  After disembarking from the old man's raft
they had showered, laundered their clothes, and eaten a hearty supper in
his home along the shore of the sewer.  After the evening meal they
helped the old man repair his generator, and then he asked Chip to show
the four guests how to manipulate a nearby Door.  Chip had just begun
his demonstration when he stepped outside the door for a moment. 
Suddenly there was a blinding flash of white light and Marvin, Flaherty,
Frankie, and Harrigan, who had been standing inside, were beamed to
another part of the universe.
         The three boys and Harrigan had waited by the Door at the other
end for several hours, hoping that Chip would come after them.  Finally
they stepped back inside the Door and attempted to make it function. 
Nothing happened.  Then they tried to reverse the co-ordinates.  This
time the Door worked alright, but it didn't take them back to the
sewer.  They spent the better part of a day skipping through the
universe, rearranging the co-ordinates again and again.
         "I think I've seen every empty hallway in the universe," Marvin
finally groaned, so they disembarked and went off in search of food.
         They had been walking for an hour when Marvin spotted the
fluorescent glimmer of a small community nestled in a clearing.
         "Looks like a nice place," Flaherty remarked.

###

         Marvin stood easily behind a serving bar, his elbow supporting
his weary frame as it rested on a Formica counter.  He washed down a
roast beef sandwich with a frothy draft beer.
         "Pizza's ready," Flaherty announced, prompted by an oven
timer.  Marvin refilled his empty glass.
         "This is a great little town, ain't it?"  Flaherty asked. 
"Tons of fresh food, oodles of money."  Flaherty's pockets, like
Marvin's, were stuffed with wads of dollar bills.  "Can't figure out for
the life of me why it's deserted, though."
         A piece of crust broke off Flaherty's pizza and dropped to the
floor.  Suddenly a little metal mouse scurried out and snatched up the
chunk of hard dough.
         "Eeeyah!"  Flaherty shouted, dropping the pizza.  At once a
dozen mice streaked out and busily consumed the overturned pie, nudging
aside the aluminum pan.
         "Don't be frightened, I think they're the cleanup squad,"
Marvin laughed.
         "The what?"  Flaherty asked.
         "Make a mess, they'll swallow it up."  Marvin said.  "I think
they kill bugs, too."
           "No wonder there aren't any around," Flaherty remarked.  "Not
a fly."  Then a mischievous gleam lit up his eyes.  "Hey, these little
mice could be fun," he remarked.  A moment later he was parading about
the living room, spilling beer and dropping food.  A stream of mice
followed him, hurriedly gulping down the debris.
         "Well, I think I'll turn in," Marvin said with a yawn.
         "Don't take the room on the left," Flaherty warned.  "Frankie
and Harrigan are in there.  And they ain't sleeping."
         "Have dick, will sodomize," Marvin quipped, climbing the stairs
that led to the bedrooms upstairs.
         "Hey, Marv, you don't think the owners of this place are gonna
come back tonight or anything, do you?" Flaherty asked as he stood alone
in a corner with a pack of expectant mice surrounding him.
         "Naw, if you ask me, the last resident of this town died
centuries ago.  Those mice probably ate his dead body."
         Flaherty gazed in astonished disgust at the shiny little
creatures that stood at his feet, peering up at him.
         "See, this whole village is automated," Marvin continued. 
"Every house.  The machines don't know their masters are gone.  They
dutifully keep cooking meals, drawing baths, requisitioning provisions
from some computerized supplier."
         "Gee," Flaherty gushed.  "Hmmm, I think I'll go to bed myself."
         Flaherty mounted the first half dozen steps of the staircase. 
He paused.  He glanced over his shoulder.  The pack of mice sat at his
heels.
         "I think you mice have eaten enough tonight," Flaherty said. 
He took a few more steps, but they tagged right along.  "Now, now, time
for beddy-bye," Flaherty advised the burnished little rodents.

###

         Flaherty sat upright in a stately king-sized bed, the crisp
sheets folded over his legs.  Two dozen mice surrounded him, perched
atop the covers, their whiskered snouts quivering anticipantly.
         "Don't you guys have your own bed?"  Flaherty asked hotly. 
"Gee whiz!"
         Marvin crouched near the chubby youth's bed, rifling through a
backpack Flaherty had found in the house and filled with appurtenances.
         "Flaherty, you've got enough toothbrushes here to last a
century," Marvin exclaimed.
         "Well, I believe in being prepared," Flaherty replied.
         "No wonder I couldn't find any toothbrushes in the bathroom,"
Marvin said.  "Geez, look at all the rolls of toilet paper you've got. 
Are you expecting to come down with dysentery?"
         "Bathroom tissue is a handy, multipurpose item," Flaherty
said.  "Why, it can be used as a napkin, a paper towel, or even writing
paper."
         "Alright, alright," Marvin said, standing and stretching. 
"From now on I'll remember your advice and always steal all the toilet
paper out of any bathroom I find."
         "Foresight negates the need of hindsight," Flaherty said,
launching into an exposition.  Marvin shook his head and left the room.

###

         Marvin pulled off his shirt.  He examined the stump of his
right arm in a mirror.  Black stitches crisscrossed the base of the
stub.  A doctor had attended to his injury at Casey's.  There hadn't
been much the doctor could do; just remove the tourniquet and suture the
veins.  At times, such as when Marvin first arrived in the sewer, he
completely forgot about his missing member.  Usually, though, its loss
tortured him.
         Marvin sank onto the bed.  Elsa drifted into his thoughts.  He
couldn't believe she was gone.  His whole world had collapsed in a
matter of hours.  Maybe his mother had been right after all.
         "Crime doesn't pay," his mother had always cautioned, shaking
her head in sad disapproval as her only child skipped off with Perry on
some childish criminal escapade.  Of course, Marvin had always made as
if he was just going out on a lark, "cruising," as he would often say. 
The night Marvin was carried home by his compatriots, writhing in agony,
his freckled features seared by a police flamethrower, was the night the
facade of innocence had fallen apart and his mother's heart had broken. 
She was never quite the same after that.  Marvin would often find her,
haggard, crying in a darkened corner of the house.  It was as if she
were weeping as much for the injuries Marvin had yet to sustain as for
those which had already befallen him.  Fortunately, perhaps, she had
died before Ontario pronounced a death sentence inabsentia on Marvin,
Perry, and Frankie at age fifteen.
         Fatigue overcame Marvin's thoughts and he fell asleep to the
satisfied groans of Frankie and Harrigan copulating in the adjacent
room.

###

         Marvin awoke in the dark bedroom bathed in sweat.  He rolled
onto his side and retched.  He shuddered feverishly.
         A shaft of light fell upon him as Frankie stumbled into the
bedroom.  The dwarf dropped to his knees, convulsed, and vomited on the
carpet.
         "You too?"  Marvin moaned.  His bowels rumbled, and a moment
later diarrhea flooded his trousers.
         "We're all sick," Frankie croaked.  "Harrigan, Flaherty, God! 
Marvin, I feel like I'm gonna die!"
         Suddenly a drove of mice appeared, chattering happily as they
feasted on the excrement and vomit.
         Icy perspiration pricked the pores of Marvin's brow.
         "I know why there aren't any people here," Marvin screamed. 
"This entire town is nothing but a nest for some deadly plague."
         "Jesus Christ!"  Frankie cried.
         Marvin threw himself out of the bed.  He crawled across the
floor, dripping offal.
         "Got to escape, find a Door," Marvin mumbled.

30

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