IN THE INFINITE MULTIVERSE, THERE ARE DIMENSIONS UPON DIMENSIONS, POSSIBILITIES UPON POSSIBILITIES. EVERY IDEA YOU’VE EVER HAD, EVERY CONCEIVABLE (AND INCONCEIVABLE) VARIANT OF PHYSICS, MATTER, ENERGY, AND CAUSALITY IS EXPRESSED SOMEWHERE OUT THERE IN THE VAST UNKNOWN.
THIS IS A STORY OF ONE SUCH VARIANT…
“Gun-Kade Wayne. Kneel before your High Executor.”
“It is my honor, your Accuracy.” I place a single knee upon the marble deck, draw both my scroll-worked dragon-fire pistols, and cross them over my chest in a gesture of fealty.
High Executor Nysharp strides down from his throne, his gauntleted hands clasped behind his back. “Your loyalty and skill is without peer. Out of all my Kades, you are the most stunningly deadly.” He stops in front of me. “Rise, Kade Wayne. It is time for you to assume the position of Cardinal Kade.”
I holster my guns in a blinking twitch, faster than a master illusionist’s sleight of hand. I rise to my feet and lock eyes with Nysharp through my cybernetic shroud. “I am honored, High Executor.”
“There will be a test, of course.” He smirks, then begins walking backward.
“I expect nothing less,” I rasp.
Then I turn sideways, watching as other candidates emerge from the shadows, all eyeing me with avaricious menace. My green-glowing eyes narrow into slits, and my amplified hearing picks up the soft bunching of leather as I squeeze my gloved hands into clenched fists.
Nysharp recedes into the shadowed reaches of his curtained throne. All I can see is his gleaming smile—his teeth cut a bright line of white against the darkness.
My enhanced cortex slows everything down—1000 times slower than what would appear in the best registry of an un-enhanced brain. Nevertheless, my fellow Kades appear blindingly fast. Hands blur to waists, and in less than a fraction of a millisecond, dozens of barrels align with my form, spitting out an unending storm of hand-machined rounds. I draw my pistols with liquid-smooth grace, watching as trajectories and their offshoots form into red-lit rays through my calculative vision.
The first thing I do is assume a stance which is statistically likely to avoid the bullets. That’s amateur hour. The hard part comes next—I begin firing at the exact right angles to not just intercept their attacks, but ricochet them into other bullets and force my aggressors into compromised positions, which will increase my chances of tagging them with a round. In a matter of seconds, the entire chamber has been transformed into a three-dimensional game of projectile chess.
Snaps and cracks sound all around me. My filigreed tunic dances between my legs as I cross my arms, firing two precisely intended shots. They bang into two others, which bang into four, which bang into eight…a three-year Kade collapses to the floor, a neat red hole showing in the center of his shroud. His slug tears across my right thigh, taking a chunk of meat with it. That’s okay—I let it happen so I could ricochet three bullets into one of the Kades on my three-o-clock.
The dance goes on, and at the 15 second mark, I realize I’m hopelessly outmatched. There’s no way to beat all these Kades, not unless I somehow shunt more blood to my brain and boost its speed…
“You’re tiring, Kade Wayne!” Nysharp yells. Due to my decelerated perception, it sounds like: YOOOOOOUUUUU’RRREE TIIIIIIIIRIIINNNNG KAAAAAAADE WAAAAAAYYYYYNNNNEEE!!!!!
He’s right—I’m done for. Unless…
I reach into my pocket and open my eReader to Echo, activating its reality distortion powers. Magic flash.
I feel the blood rushes out of my enormous wiener, which I typically keep wrapped around my right leg and tucked into my sock. I can feel the neurons sparking inside my head—it’s like mainlining three pots of coffee combined with the first five seconds of a cliffside bungee jump. My mind immediately corrects for all miscalculations borne from stress—
(adjust four radians left adjust follow-on rounds three minutes of arc upward compensate for a dozen hexacontades on the four o’ clock push into the north declination dominate the leftmost ascension)
—and I make short work of my remaining enemies. I cast my impassive gaze through a bloody pile of bodies, shredded and torn by countless bullets. Most are from their own guns.
Nysharp rises from his throne, clapping his hands in slow, hypnotic time. “Congratulations…Cardinal Kade Wayne.”
He throws me a malicious grin, and I throw it right back.
Never underestimate what my brain can do when I boost its function by powering down my wiener. 😉
Are you some kind of sick-cool-rad future assassin who needs to pass a deadly test involving bullets and geometry? Never fear! Get Echo Vol. 1 on Kindle here: Vol. 1 on Kindle. Vol. 2 on Kindle here: Vol.2 on Kindle Vol. 3 on Kindle here: Vol. 3 on Kindle Echo Vol. 1 & 2 Combined Edition here: Combined Edition If you wanna hear me babble on about anything and everything, and strain my FREAKIN’ BRAIN, then here’s a link to my podcast: Strained Brains! It is on iTunes, Stitcher, Spotify, and Google Play! Please give it a listen and a five-star review! Here’s the miscellaneous gear that I use to try and become an uber-human: Optimization, and last but not least, my buddy Jumar Balacy has made a supercool microsite at kentwaynebrain.com! Go check out his computer-based wizardry 🙂 🙂 😀
Hold on! I just got approved to be an Amazon affiliate! If you’re going to buy ANY product from Amazon, and you’d like to support my efforts for absolutely free, then simply click on one of the Echo links I’ve provided—they’ll send you to Echo’s Amazon page—and THEN buy whatever product you wish. Amazon gives me a small referral fee each time this happens! In this manner you can support my books, musings, podcast, zany ads, or my adventures along the noble path known as The Way of The Man Child WITHOUT spending any more money than you were already going to! Should you do this, I vow to send you a silent blessing, causing your genitals to adopt the optimum size, shape, smell, and death-ray attachment of choice that paralyzes your enemies with fear and envy! Entire worlds will bow before your nether parts! 😲💪 😜