The Exploding Detective (14 page)

I appeared in
1865, where I told Lincoln what Overkill had done, stealing his identity and
oppressing the future with it, and Lincoln said it figured.

And I spent a
month in 1755 Philadelphia, running a wig shop. I spent my spare time looking
for Ben Franklin, so we could exchange witty remarks. I must have checked every
building in that town. The guy just wasn’t there. I felt that violated every
rule of time traveling I had ever heard of. The big celebrity of the time
period is always there. But there wasn’t anybody to complain to about it, so I
dropped it. But I still think it stinks. I had a terrific witty remark all
ready for Franklin. He would have laughed his ass off.

Finally I arrived
back in 2007 on Overkill’s island.

As so often
happens in time traveling – possibly because the space/time continuum likes its
little joke, or, more likely, because the universe is run by a bunch of hacks -
the moment I arrived back on the island was the exact moment I had walked into
The Time Nozzle to try to get it to work.

I shouted at
myself to “Stop! Don’t go in there!” and heard myself reply: “Screw you!” I
remembered saying that to somebody, but I didn’t know it was me.

A few moments
later I saw Fred Foster charge into The Time Nozzle after me, his arms whirling
like pinwheels. This was followed by the sounds of a terrific scuffle. Then the
machinery suddenly started up and thousands of future fighters raced out of The
Time Nozzle into the laboratory and, with no other instructions, began to fight
with everything they saw: chairs, file cabinets, pictures on the walls, even
the control panel for The Time Nozzle. Then they fought their way through the
door and streamed out of the fortress to fight with the world.

I had planned to
wait until the coast was clear and then operate The Time Nozzle controls to
bring myself back, so there would be two of me here. Then the world had better
look out. I could work two jobs then. Make twice as much money.

But when I got
down from the light fixture I was hanging from and took a look at The Time
Nozzle, I saw that it had been pretty much smashed to pieces. It was just a
worthless piece of TV memorabilia now.

I
wished somebody had smashed it sooner.

I had expected
there to be a lot of fighting going on outside the fortress, but things were
relatively quiet now. The only fighting that was going on when I got out there
was between the future fighters and various inanimate objects. While they
furiously attacked statues, palm trees, and sprinkler systems, the government
troops and my Unholy Army hid behind bushes together, waiting for the newcomers
to leave so they could go back to killing each other. It was too dangerous to
kill each other out there right now.

I tried to make
my way past the future fighters to the water without being seen, but I’m not as
stealthy as I’d like to be. Maybe if I lost some weight I’d be stealthier. Or
maybe I need to gain a lot more weight. Anyway, they spotted me in about five
seconds.

They started
coming towards me. I wondered if they knew that I was the one who had brought
them here and was responsible for them getting their great medical plans. I
tried giving them an order.

“Halt!” I
commanded.

They kept coming.
I tried another order.

“Stop looking at
me like that!”

Their expressions
didn’t change.

I turned to run
and bumped violently into a huge metal Picasso sculpture that Overkill had
stolen from Chicago. It collapsed into a million pieces. The future fighters
stopped, stunned. They had been trying to bust up that statue for hours. As I
said earlier, it’s all about not being balanced properly.

With me leading
the way, we tore up that island six ways from Sunday. They made way for me
whenever something particularly valuable needed to be destroyed. I was quite
enjoying myself and thinking of maybe staying a little longer and going home in
the morning. But good sense finally prevailed. I suddenly broke for the water
and entered it in a low flat dive, sank quickly to the bottom, then struggled
back up to the surface. I had forgotten that I didn’t know how to swim. I
remembered it now, though. The bottom of the lake reminded me.

Fortunately, the
water was filled with floating debris and handy corpses to hang onto. The
future fighters had ripped up the attacking ships as easily as they had ripped
up everything else and the surface of the lake was more debris than water. You
could practically walk on it. I slowly and carefully worked my way to shore.

Central City was
a total mess. The future fighters were all over the streets, pushing over
buildings, punching out streetlights, tipping over trucks and cars, eating the
pavement, stamping policemen flat, and tearing newspapermen to shreds.

A few hardy souls
were trying to fight back, firing at the invaders, but the bullets not only
didn’t stop them, the invaders actually caught the bullets and ate them. One
future fighter liked the taste so much he picked up an abandoned rifle and
emptied the entire clip down his throat. People stopped firing guns at them
after that. There didn’t seem to be much point in feeding the creatures.

When I saw all
the mindless destruction going on, I didn’t hesitate. I joined right in, once
again impressing the future fighters with my superior ability to destroy. You
know that 600 foot tall revolving restaurant in the center of town? I destroyed
that. Just leaned on it while I was eating a sandwich. Impressed the hell out
of the guys.

We made our way
through town, trashing everything in sight. When we got near my house, I split
from my group, supposedly to destroy a dark alley I said had been asking for
it. I hid in the alley until the future fighters got tired of waiting for me
and moved on, then I headed for home.

A few streets
from my house, the Mayor and the Police Commissioner spotted me and came
running towards me, yelling at me to get to work and stop this invasion. The
way they had it figured out, I still owed the city four and a half days work.
And they expected me to live up to my obligations. Before I could give them and
the horse they rode in on my answer, they disappeared down the gullet of a
future fighter. So I guess they have more important things to worry about now
than my contract. Digestive juices, and so on.

I was relieved to
find that my house hadn’t been damaged so far. The scary footprints all over
the floors made it plain that the future fighters had been there, but nothing
had been disturbed. The place had always looked trashed, so anybody looking to
destroy something would think somebody had already been there and beaten them
to it and move on to the next house.

Several times
that evening I heard future fighters approach the house, look in the door, then
grunt and leave, as I sat there reading my smelly newspaper in my own filth.
Okay, so I ain’t neat. But at least nobody bothered my place.

The city fathers
didn’t know what to do to stop the invasion. They tried raising their own
salaries, but that didn’t do any good. They tried it again. Still no luck. At
that point they just raised their salaries a couple more times and fled. The
police weren’t any help either. They refused to come out of their police
stations. Wouldn’t even answer their phone. So nobody in authority was doing
anything to stop the carnage.

I suppose you’re
waiting for me to fix all this – make it so everything is back the way it was
before. I know my mother is. But it isn’t going to happen.

I tried to figure
out a way to do it. For awhile I assumed The Time Nozzle would eventually pop
the future fighters back to the future, and I could take credit for it, maybe
run for office on the strength of it, but then I remembered wrecking the 2265
end of the tunnel. And the future fighters had wrecked the end located in this
time period. So I don’t think we can expect any help from The Time Nozzle on
this one.

And I don’t think
there’s anything The Flying Detective can do. This doesn’t look like a job for
him. I don’t have my costume anymore, anyway. The last time I saw it, one of
the future fighters was parading around town in it.

I ran into the
Devil a couple of days ago, when we both happened to be downtown leaning up
against lamp posts. He said he could fix everything up for me just like it was
before. The world would be saved and I would be everyone’s hero. But I decided
against it. He wanted a little too much in return. He wanted my soul and the
highest I would go was my personality. He didn’t want that. So we didn’t have a
deal.

So I’m out of
ideas. Maybe the whole thing will blow over someday. Most things do. Let’s hope
so, anyway. Oh, and sorry. Sorry, everyone.

One last thing
before I go. During my travels through time I showed up briefly in 2266 and
2264 and there was a universe in both time periods. Just not one in 2265. If I
knew more about how these things worked I’d let you know, but as near as I can
figure, when December 31
^st
,
2264 rolls around, we’re all going to have to jump.

THE TIME MACHINE
DID IT (2004)

DOUBLE WONDERFUL
(2005)

HOW I CONQUERED
YOUR PLANET (2006)

THE EXPLODING
DETECTIVE (2007)

DEAD MEN SCARE ME
STUPID (2008)

EARTH VS.
EVERYBODY (2009)

THE LAST
DETECTIVE ALIVE (2010)

THE FIFTY FOOT
DETECTIVE (2011)

Copyright
© 2007

by John
Swartzwelder

Published
by:

Kennydale Books

P.O. Box 3925

Chatsworth,
California 91313-3925

All Rights
Reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or
by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording or by
any information storage and retrieval system, without written permission from
the author, except for the inclusion of brief quotations in a review.

First Printing
February, 2007

ISBN 13
(paperback edition) 978-0-9755799-6-1

ISBN 13 (hardback
edition) 978-0-9755799-7-8

ISBN
10 (paperback edition) 0-9755799-6-7

ISBN 10 (hardback
edition) 0-9755799-7-5

Library of
Congress Control Number: 2007900417

This book is a
work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents either are the product
of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to
actual persons, living or dead, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.

Printed in the
United States of America

THE
EXPLODING DETECTIVE

John
Swartzwelder

Kennydale Books.

Chatsworth,
California