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Stories from the Verse
Con Version
Chapter 67: Brown 305
Table of Contents
Previous chapter: Takano 105
It was late in the day when they got home, but they were all a bit full from dinner and a bit spent from their confrontation. Derek and Vashti started putting away their recovered belongings while the other three settled in the living room. When things were at least roughly in place, Derek came and sat with them.
“I want to thank you for going with us today. It’s good to have support.”
“Ah don’ know,” Maurice said. “Seem to me you had that handled by yo’ lonesome.”
“Always better to work with a team,” he said, “and to have someone watch your back.”
“Yeah,” Pierre said, “what was all that, with the talk about secret service and honored hero and all? And what did you do with that gun?”
Derek nodded. It was time to explain.
“You may know,” he said, “this house was the home of a Mister Pierre Hunter.”
“I’ve heard of him,” Pierre said.
“You might know more about him than I do,” Derek said. “I met the man briefly. He had been for many years a divinely-appointed protector of this City of New Orleans. Maurice knew him as well as anyone, and commented that he sometimes seemed to do almost miraculous things.”
“And what does he have to do with this?”
“A couple months back we arrived, and he was waiting for us and said we were his replacements. Then he walked outside and apparently vanished. He gave us our instruments, and said we were to fight against the devil. We had already met the devil, a couple miles outside the city, who tried to persuade us to leave.”
“This still isn’t answering my question.”
Derek sighed and shifted in his seat. “No, you’re right, but it’s not an easy question to answer. Vashti and I aren’t from your world. In fact, we aren’t even from the same world. I come from an earth that is about a hundred years in your future, but I think different enough that it’s what we would call a parallel earth, a world with the same history to a point but some differences. We have some very advanced machines a century from now, and some of them were using a newly discovered substance called scriff. Apparently its use is not so safe as manufacturers wanted people to believe, because I am one of a very few people who got infected by it, with the result that I now move from universe to universe. I met Vashti in a world that was very much like something from The Arabian Nights, where we got married, and she came with me. Maybe it’s something to do with that ‘as long as we both shall live’ part. Anyway, since then I’ve been a lot of things in a lot of places, and I believe that the King--that is, God--sends me where I’m needed. I’ve also picked up some toys like that laser rifle, some fighting skills, some magic, and some mental tricks. I’m here to fight the forces of darkness, and they’ve promised to give me trouble.”
There was a knock on the door.
“Who could that be?” Vashti asked.
“I don’t know,” Derek answered. “Just about everyone we know is here, except for Hannah, Henry, Pierre’s uncle, and Alfonso. I’ll get it.”
Maurice said, “Mebbe it’s Miz Johnson bringin’ over leftovers from dinner.”
Derek laughed, and said, “I think we’d be thankful for that. That stuffing was delicious.”
He opened the door. There was an unfamiliar young black man standing there.
Maurice apparently recognized him. “What do you want?” he challenged.
“I,” the man began, “I’ve come to apologize. We shouldn’t a done that.”
It was one of the Malcolm brothers, Derek realized.
“Well, come in. We’ll see if we can find another chair. Vashti, we have some company. Do you like tea?” he asked. It was about the only thing he could think of offering guests.
As to the old stories that have long been here:
