Oh, the joys of unethical experimentation. I built a bunch of smaller-scale bomb pairs designed to displace a lot less of the area directly around it. I know, it seems a it odd to classify them as bombs at this point, but that’s still what they are. An EMP bomb doesn’t become less of one just because it doesn’t go kablooey. In this case, there’s pretty much no way to cause the distortion to spacetime without also causing the destruction of the device that does so. At least it seems to be ok toward unrelated electronics and physiologies.
The first major round of testing was confirming the radius of the effects. That is where the cat-apult came in, named in honor of its first test subject. See, I found this cat. He was a runaway. I know that, because I broke the home window, grabbed him, and ran away with him. His name was Mr. Fuzzles, and I strapped a bomb to him in the name of science. The feisty little bastard soon learned that it takes more pussy than he had to get past my armor to my squishy, human inner core.
As for the cat-apult, it’s more like a giant rubber band sling on the roof of the office building. Sure, it gets a bit cold and electrified on rooftops these days, but that’s a risk Mr. Fuzzles would just have to take. I had to keep him shackled and chained to a gooseneck vent while I set up my monitoring equipment. I found a paper and schematics for creating a device to precisely monitor the damage done the universe when device goes off. It was really surprising, especially because I’d changed audio narrators at that point. After a brief foray into the action-packed world of Jason Statham’s accent caused me to mistake a bibliography for an entirely different paper, I settled for Vin Diesel, the Barry White of action movies. It doesn’t matter if you’re packin’ an inch or a mile, the man knows how to sweet talk a woman to the finish line.
I got this sweet new monitor and scanner all set up, then grabbed Mr. Fuzzles. “Now, you may be wondering if this is going to be dangerous. I’d like to assure you that there’s no need to speculate… this WILL be dangerous. It might turn you inside out. It might make only part of you disappear. It may even kill you. That’s just a risk I’m willing to take. Any questions before we begin?”
A hiss doesn’t qualify as a question, so I strapped him to the bombs, set him in the sling, and started pulling it back. I didn’t want to pull it too taut, otherwise it’d snap and leave me holding an armed and dangerous feline in my face, ready to explode. Once I got a reasonable amount of pull, I held onto the band with one hand and activated the bombs’ timers. One of them had double the time as the other, for the return trip. Timers in my HUD started up, synchronized. Then, I let Mr. Fuzzles go, to boldly explore new worlds as my own personal cat-astronaut.
Hmm. I paused to make a note of that one. Catastronaut. It has a nice ring to it. I might use it for an alias at some point.
I didn’t think about playing the Star Trek theme until I saw the cat glow and reality kinda glitched out. Like the air rippled and the cat smooshed into a single point with one last, faint “Mrow!”
I waited. And waited. Finally, it was time for Mr. Fuzzles’s triumphant return from whatever other world he’d visited as a brave feline explorer. I looked down where he disappeared, wondering when he’d fall out of the sky. It’s ok, he’s a cat. He’ll land on his paws.
At first, I suspected a failure. The being that extended out of a point of rippling spacetime was not a standard cat. It was bright orange like some are, but Mr. Fuzzles had been white and brown, and no cat has naturally occurring bright purple at the end of its limbs. The thing may have had claws there, but I didn’t get a good look. They were more like a gorilla’s hands and feet. When I looked at its face, however, I realized it bore quite a resemblance to a boar. It had the long snout, a pair of tusks, and a mohawk-like mane that stretched down its back, as orange as the rest of its fur.
The thing appeared with a bunch of dirt and plants around it, but it all dropped immediately, hence the lack of a clear look in that instant. I moved to get a better look as I watched it fall. It reached out for buildings, tearing bricks off in its attempt to grab hold of something. That slowed it down enough, as it landed in a heap on someone’s full recycling can. When a man poked his head out the window and asked, “What the hell was that?” the resulting roar convinced him to go back inside.
Then this giant boar-thing began to hack and cough, before spitting up several chunks of metal. Zooming in, I saw pieces of my bomb, and the remnants of Mr. Fuzzles collar.
Success! Sure, Mr. Fuzzles got eaten, but the principle is sound! In fact, those could have been made even smaller, if the readings are true. That particular one could have taken a couple people of pretty much any size. I’m talking at least one Andre the Giant, AND Hulk Hogan if they’d been in mid-bodyslam. Not that anyone needs another Hulk Hogan over here. The first one hogs enough spotlight as-is, in between sex tapes with one of his best friends.
The sensor’s adjustments were excellent, though I didn’t have any data on if Mr. Fuzzles survived the trip to another dimension. Aside from what it does to remove large chunks of things, the D-bomb’s effects on spacetime aren’t always that fun for anything immediately around them that aren’t pulled through. I’m just not sure if there’s any sort of radius inside the blast that is negatively affected as well. The bomb that I traveled with was meant to destroy a planet; one person wasn’t a big deal. For all I know, Mr. Fuzzles couldn’t escape from the pig-gorilla because its head and its ass swapped places or something. If I’m going to use these to get anywhere I want in the world, that’s something of a concern.
Still, I had a few others to I’d put together, and figured I should test them for the sake of consistency. I needed more small animals. I raided the neighborhood. From one apartment, I got someone’s pet dog. Tossed him out, and didn’t get anything. Nothing but a dud. When that bomb came back with nothing, I figured I better send more cameras along. I repurposed a holodisc to function as a recorder of everything around and strapped it on the next of the test bombs.
I broke into someone else’s place and stole their pet python. No pet is as huggable as a python. Darn thing almost caused some problems for me, too. It hugged the sling while the bombs were armed, so I had to take the thing and toss it over the side by hand.
When the return one came back, I found myself watching a small vehicle fall out of the sky instead. Like a teacup or saucer with wheels on the bottom. It had something on the front part of that, but I couldn’t see that from my position. I did see a run-over snake get knocked away from it as it fell, though. That explains that one. Before it hit the ground, a man shot away from it into the air, then glided down to safety with a parachute. I say a man, but I couldn’t gauge it very well. They wore a white coat, but the most prominent feature was that their head appeared to be a giant eyeball sitting on top of their neck. The person looked all around, then scampered off into the night.
I’ll have to keep my eye out for that one.
I did stop to gather up the remains of the snake so I could get the holodisc footage. I took it indoors to activate it and let it paint me a picture of the surroundings. It showed a city at night, nothing particularly wrong with it. Then sirens started and that vehicle from outside came barreling down the road with red and blue lights in pursuit. The front portion turned out to be a windshield that looked like an eye. The lower half had writing bearing the name “EyePod”. I wonder if that was the car’s name, or the criminal’s.
Then came the search for more test subjects for a last round of testing. Luckily, I found someone’s pet chimp wandering around, calling out if anyone saw his puppy dog. A hairless chimp with bright white skin and blonde hair. But I’m pretty sure he was someone’s pet because of the harness and leash he wore. He may have been a primate of the homo sapiens family, I suppose. Hey, humans shot chimps into space before they went up to study the effects on lesser life forms. I shot a human into another dimension for another reason.
When he came back, he didn’t actually fall. Instead, he came back being held by a person in a space suit. He hovered in midair on a jetpack, holding a really big diamond in one hand, and my test chimp in the other. The test chimp even found that dog I’d shot through earlier.
“What did you do?” bellowed the space man. “One minute, I am robbing the city of the Grand Diamond. The next, some brat teleports me, the mighty Catastronaut, to some hellhole in the middle of a blizzard? What’s going on?”
For fuck’s sake, I can’t keep any good ideas for myself, can I? This guy went ahead and stole that name as soon as he showed up in this world. Seeing something that interested him, he floated down and set the kid down on the street. The kid ran off, crying and peeing himself, which is all the more uncomfortable in the middle of a snowstorm.
“You did this, didn’t you!” accused Catastronaut, pointing at the eye guy.
“I don’t know what you’re talking about! I just appeared here! Maybe it was that thing!” The eyeball guy pointed over to where the orange and purple gorilla-pig was sat in a plastic trash can.
The pig thing pushed holes in the can to fit its arms and legs through, then stood up and beat its chest. “I am Thang, and I know not where I have been transported to. If it is a fight you want, you’ll find out why I am the true king of the jungle!”
The three stood off for awhile until the cops showed up, which was oddly good timing on their part. The cops took one look at them and bagged their car up. Thang, Catastronaut, and the guy with the eye all chased after. Thang roared, Catastronaut fired an arc of electricity, and the eye guy fired a purple laser from his head’s pupil as they ran off in pursuit.
So, overall, I’m calling this one a success! I’m now one step closer to possibly destroying the Earth. And, if push comes to shove, I’ve got a pretty good track record here of pulling in beings from other Earths to serve as useful distractions.
Soon, I’ll be able to teleport, bring in an army of villains, slice, dice, and even fry the perfect hot dog every time with a minimum of cleanup.