The Hornswoggle Effect

By Rick Bramhall

As you can see by the cover, this is science fiction. Other than that, if I were you, I wouldn't trust the cover one bit. The questionable hero of this story navigates around the universe at many times the speed of light although he has no idea how he manages to do it or even, sometimes, why. Occasional passengers include a robot the size and shape of a kitchen trashcan and a cat who can not only change her size and color, but also her stripes...er, spots. Underneath these meanderings, a subtle threat lurks, one not even the author is fully conscious of. There isn't a whole lot of violence and even less sex, but I think you might like it anyway.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Rick Bramhall
• Release date: Sep 13, 2015
• ISBN: 9781310934049

Rick Bramhall

I was born in 1952 and grew up Hawthorne, California. Served in the US Air Force from 1975-79. My longest gig was working in Medical Information at the Loma Linda VA from 1979-89. Got my BA from Cal State San Bernardino in 1989. Taught 8th Grade Language Arts 1990-94. Volunteered at the Santa Rosa Plateau Ecological Reserve from about 1997-2004. I moved to San Diego in 2009 to be nearer family. In 2019 I moved to Yuma AZ, as rent became too high in SD. In 2021, my place in Yuma burned down and I moved to Tucson to be nearer my childhood friend, Carl Harrison. I'm currently involved as a community activist.

Book preview

The Hornswoggle Effect

by Rick Bramhall

Copyright 2015.

The characters and events in this book are fictitious. Any similarity to real persons, living or dead, are coincidental and not intended by the author.

Smashwords Edition

This ebook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This ebook may not be re-sold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each recipient. If you’re reading this book and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your use only, then please return to your favorite ebook retailer and purchase your own copy. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author. It was hard, even if he did enjoy writing it.

Table of Contents

Chapter One: The Attack of the Two-Dimensional Characters

Chapter Two: The Next Chapter

Chapter Three: Not Really a Good Idea

Chapter Four: And Then It Happened

Chapter Five: A Diving Belle

Chapter Six: Moving Forward Sideways

Chapter Seven: A Case of Mono

Chapter Eight: Vacation Spots to Avoid

Chapter Nine: Let's Get Small

Chapter Ten: Destiny Derides Again or A Play of Words

Chapter Eleven: Heavy Petting

Chapter Twelve: Dream Weavers

Chapter Thirteen: Sands of Time

Chapter Fourteen: It's Always Something

Chapter Fifteen: The Captain Wonderment Show!

Chapter Sixteen: Obligatory References to Sex

Chapter Seventeen: Of Puppets and Looking Behind Curtains

Chapter Eighteen: We're Going to the Dogs

Chapter Nineteen: Mud and Why, In this Case, It's a Good Name for a Planet

Chapter Twenty: You Heard Me Right the First Time: Sit On It

Chapter Twenty-One: Do Not Try This at Home, or Anywhere Else

Chapter Twenty-Two: Coda

Chapter One:

The Attack of the Two-Dimensional Characters

It happened during a time when the expansion of the universe slowed down to a mere meter a second. And even then it wouldn't have happened if it wasn't for that biological oddity known as genus Homo. These creatures are of such an unnecessary curiosity that they are one and all destined to remain a relatively rare and constantly endangered life form in a universe not exactly overrun with life forms.

Only another humanoid could possibly understand why one such species of this genus felt compelled to explore this newly-attainable edge of existence as we know it. But compelled they were.

To this end they spent an incredible amount of energy to invent and then construct a corridor that could extend itself at a full meter a second. Rushed by overnight express to one particular point along the edge of the universe, this exploratory tunnel was unleashed in such a manner that sooner or later it would actually describe the full circumference of all that existed. Well, at least as far as was known to exist.

Along the inner arc of this gently curving tube, insufferably countless numbers of small jets kept this construction propelled outward at just the right speed. The outer skin, although of course unviewable from the outside, would have appeared blank if it could be seen.

Since the stated purpose of this contraption was to monitor the outer edge of the cosmic donut, the innards of this ever-expanding tunnel was well-lined with every sort of sensory device this snooping species could think of. And though they couldn't know beforehand what these devices would record, they thought they were smart enough to take a good guess. This was pure hubris, of course, but actually made sense. What species could survive for more generations than they could remember without thinking they had the answer to everything?

And so it came to pass that Lt. O'Brien was assigned as one of this species to walk along the corridors of this confabulation. Her job was to monitor all the devices because, although they loved and adored their machines, they also didn't completely trust them. She was on routine patrol, as she had been for several weeks now. She looked down at her wrist monitor now and again, noting that the monitor continued to report the corridor was expanding ahead of her, its far end opening onto the vacuum of outer space. The machinery was expanding faster than she could walk, so there was no chance that she would ever see, little alone reach the end of it.

Because it was open-ended and the end stared out into the vacuum of space, the lieutenant was suited up in the very latest of pressure-sealed and oxygen-supplied uniforms of the Military Oversight and Intelligence Systems Team. Her eggshell-white costume fit her like a second skin, hugging her slim waist, her exquisitely-curved hips and her long well-toned legs. It put the perk in her breasts. It was comfortable.

Although she was attached to a military unit, she was a computer nerd first, a scientist second and a soldier only in a far-behind third place. As she strolled along the literally endless hallway, her feet skimming over the artificially-gravitated floor, her job was to perform perfunctory checks of the various computer banks embedded along the outer edge of the tubular wall. She loved her job because it allowed her to work with nothing but computers.

Along this same outer wall, every so often there was a window. So far there had been nothing to see, not space, not a vacuum, not black emptiness of light. For these windows looked out beyond the universe, which was -- of course -- quite impossible.

On each of her shifts up to now, Lt. O'Brien had seen nothing but the beautiful array of lights that were the computer screens along her patrol. The lights came in an amazing variety of colors and it daily gave her great delight to note that each display was the color it was supposed to be.

This meant that everything was safe. It made some of her colleagues angry, that everything was so boringly alright. Apparently, most members of MOIST had volunteered because they were hoping that something exciting would happen.

Then, in the space and time it took her to take one step, something happened. Approximately two meters in front of her, that something came through the outer wall. This is not to say that it burst through or in any way damaged the fabric of the installation. If it had been possible to question her about it afterward, she would have said it seemed to seep through the wall much in the manner ghosts are said to travel through walls.

It happened very quickly and the lieutenant's first response was to stare slack-jawed at the apparition that stood in front of her. Since it was not humanoid or even biological in appearance, the word is used here in the same sense as one would describe a piece of machinery or furniture standing in a room. However one wished to express it, it was definitely there.

In the corridor's softly ambivalent indirect lighting, whatever it was sparkled and gleamed in such a manner that the young scientist-soldier could have been excused in thinking it consisted of polished sheets of thin metal. The edges that made up the thing in front of her reflected light in such a way as to give the impression that they were very sharp. Lt. O'Brien came to the conclusion that whatever it was looked very dangerous.

Highly trained in how to react to new life forms, the lieutenant was not as immediately afraid as one might expect from the sudden appearance of such strange shapes. Instead, she calmly pressed her communication button and expressed the basic facts as they were first presented to her. Intruder, section 1A-12C2.

The creature, if it was a life form, appeared to be at least as tall as her, although its thickness and weight were hard to ascertain. Then, it began to move toward her, perhaps in response to her spoken words. Overhead, a security camera flickered to life. It relayed the image of a conglomeration of metallic-looking pieces moving toward the human.

This is not to say that it moved forward in a connected and continuous manner. Instead, a round disc from roughly its center inched toward the lieutenant, followed closely by a triangular form located a meter down and toward the right, followed by other pieces in an apparently random fashion. Anyone remotely familiar with the ancient form of self protection known as armor might have expected the entire thing to clank as it moved. However, it was eerily and completely silent in its traipsing.

It was equally silent as it engulfed Lt. O'Brien. In the MOIST control room where this scene was being transmitted, the same could not be said. There, the three humans on duty were screaming their heads off in a rather hysterical manner.

Two had been stationed there for years, one for several months. They were quite used to scenes of empty corridors and the occasional patrolling officer. They were singularly unprepared for this event.

From their point of view, it appeared that their colleague had just been eaten. It would, however, be more accurate to say that she'd been absorbed. Even more accurately, the thing had merged with her and she had then ceased to be visible. Before a more detailed explanation could even be considered, the apparition disappeared back into or through the floor of the corridor.

Red warning lights, belatedly, came on everywhere through the still-expanding construction. The camera showed an unending corridor bathed in scarlet, as was the control room where the panic button had been hit. Somewhere in the confusion, a supervisor had been contacted.

Inquiries were made as swiftly and secretly as possible. The image from the camera was played back time and again, along with O'Brien's brief message. The section of the corridor where the attack had occurred was scrutinized down to the molecular level. No clue could be found as to what happened or how.

Things began simmering back down to something approaching normalcy, at least as close as could be expected at the edge of the universe. Final reports had been finished and passed on to a small handful of people deemed as needing to know. A decision had been made somewhere up the line that from now on the patrols were to be conducted by armed squads. No solitary officers any more, now armed groups of three wandered skittishly along the pathways.

Then it started happening all over again. The creature, for it had been officially decided that it was a life form, not an artificial creation, reappeared. It looked just as metallic and menacing as before. It seemed to appear out of nowhere.

This time the guards had time to raise their weapons. One even got off a shot of super-heated light that passed right through the attacker. Other than that, the results were the same, only threefold. That is, three people were engulfed.

Since there were multiple victims this time, the hypothesis was entertained that there had been more than one attacker this time. Due to the rather puzzling and seemingly random distribution of parts, it was hard to be sure. The only thing that seemed to be absolute was the deadliness of the being and its, or their, ability to travel through material considered solid at any level other than the subatomic.

Spectral analysis revealed no chemical pattern ever seen before. No residue was found in the walls or flooring. They left no trace.

It was assumed that the attackers wanted something, but what? They came, they absorbed, they left. There was no damage to infrastructure, nothing but life was taken. It all happened so quickly it was hard to believe they had even surveyed their surroundings. Had these excursions been nothing more than hunting trips?

Wherever they came from, it was definitely somewhere outside the universe. Both times they had come in through the side facing outward, toward the unknown. But the sensors facing in that direction had detected nothing. Once inside, they were quite visible. So why couldn't they see them coming?

Patrols were suspended and drones substituted in their place. These machines continued to occasionally record incursions by these mystery intruders. Each time, they came in the same way, and left the same way.

But this was more expensive, as it not only required a human to fly each drone, but the machines themselves were more costly than the human lives they replaced. Politicians and taxpayers were not happy.

An impasse was reached. Nothing more was done. The grand experiment, or exploration, or whatever label you want to apply to it, was falling apart. Nothing was answered.

As usual in such situations, the cosmos rolled the dice. The answer came up crackpot.

In one of the more questionable think tanks that ever suckled at the public teat, there existed -- in a tiny windowless room that the rest of the staff tried hard to forget about -- a scientist of questionable credentials and sanity by the name of Brynfriese. No one knew his first name or even whether there should be a Dr. in front of it. He was simply known as Brynfriese.

One drowsy afternoon the overpaid staff of this think tank sat around in a group session, trying to brainstorm some sort of solution to this particular problem. The only thing that kept this tired troupe of thinkers in the hunt for a solution was that none of their rival think tanks had come up with any ideas, either. So this over-educated, frizzy-haired group of people with more vocabulary than sense sat around, trying rather desperately to be original.

Some sat around a conference table. Some rolled their chairs vaguely around the room. Others looked out the window, at the top of their shoes, at the ceiling. The towering shelves of books on either side of the room were crammed to bursting, threatening to crash down on the lot of them.

Has anyone tired to simply push them out? a soft voice asked.

Everyone looked around, wondering at the unfamiliar tones. Everyone, that is, except Brynfriese, who knew that it was he himself who had spoken. Someone finally located him, sitting in a cramped corner of the room, as though he was still crunched into his cubbyhole of an office. He peeped out at his peers over slipping glasses, his hair appropriately uncombed.

Anyone who was at all technologically inclined dismissed the idea out of hand. Those who reveled in direct brute force felt strangely attracted to the idea. The military immediately feel in love with the concept.

The mass of intruder or intruders was measured as best could be. The width of the corridor in question was gaged to the necessary degree. It was determined that as many as eight soldiers could effectively operate within the prescribed space and that this would be more than enough to handle the threat.

The requisite eight were inserted into the still-expanding corridor at the edge of the universe. They advanced with weapons drawn, knowing the appearance of what they were to face. This time they would act, not react.

They didn't allow the creatures to attack but instead, on first sight, plowed right into them. It seemed to work. The task force crashed into the beings, pushing them back in the direction that they came. The threat melted back into the walls.

Brynfriese was plucked out of obscurity and into control of MOIST. Only now, with a greatly augmented military presence, the phrase 'Emergency Reserve' was tagged onto the end of the organization's name. MOISTER was constantly swarming the corridors now, confident that -- once again -- their species was in control of the situation.

Only they didn't always win. Sometimes the monsters (for now that was what they were familiarly called) won, sometimes the humanoids. Either way, it was obviously war.

The professional soldiers pushed for formal declaration of the war while politicians pushed equally hard for denial. But the financial losses were what finally decided the matter.

General Naymuth strode unannounced into Brynfriese's office, chomping on some smoking, malodorous plant rolled into a slender cylinder. The scientist was smart enough not to object to the intrusion. No matter what corner of the universe you're from, you don't wave a red cloth at a metaphorically charging bull.

Brainfreeze! the general shouted, purposely -- like many before him -- mispronouncing the scientist's name. Put your supposedly-creative mind in gear. We've got to find some way to take this fight to the enemy!

The think-tanker's first impulse was to shout back that what the general was suggesting was impossible. These creatures came from another universe. But he was well aware that, as titular head of MOISTER, he was finally getting paid big bucks for doing relatively little. He wanted to stay at least long enough to pay off his mortgage.

He tried thinking, but that one spark of intuitive thinking that had gotten him this far was all that he had in him. Past attempts at going beyond the universe or into another one had been tried before. They had all proved what was already known: space was curved.

Attempts to project something outward from the corridor had all had the same result. The projectile had ended up either above or below the tube. Someone had facetiously dubbed it the Bathtub Effect. No matter how hard or often you splashed up against the edge, you couldn't go through the edge. The only thing that kept people trying was that it was a very poor analogy.

General Naymuth had built his career on his ability to quickly and correctly assess people's capabilities in emergency situations. He took one look at Brynfriese sitting there with his eyes squeezed shut, trying too hard to come up with something, and he knew what he had to do. He caught the next flight home to the home planet and arranged a meeting with his political equivalent.

This person then met with the behind-the-scenes people who kept him in nominal power. A consensus was arrived at. As one put it, We need someone who not only thinks outside the box, but doesn't even know that there is a box.

The call came through to Captain Wonderment while he was asleep, hanging from his bedroom ceiling. Not only did he take the call without turning on the phone's visual element, he didn't even bother to open his eyes. He satisfied his end of the conversation by making vaguely intelligent noises at vaguely appropriate places. When the voice on the other end finally paused in hopes of attaining a rather fuller reply, the Captain condescended to opening one eye.

He knew that the project was taking place far, far away from the little planet he fondly considered his home planet, although it wasn't. He liked the colorful sphere with the uncolorful name of Earth. He was quite satisfied, thank you, where he was right this minute.

What's in it for me? he demanded.

You are familiar with our catalog? the disembodied voice asked.

You mean the Moist/Moister surplus supply catalog? He opened both eyes. Wonderment heard the rising excitement in his own voice and tried to tone it down. Yeah, I guess I've heard of it.

Well, if you succeed, you can choose one free item from our catalog. No restrictions.

Captain Wonderment's last line was I'm on my way. That was a gross overstatement, but then he was known far and wide for exactly that kind of thing. The first thing he did was fall from the ceiling, narrowly missing landing on his head while also missing the bed.

This was appreciated by his lover, who was laying on the bed. He kissed her goodbye. After wrapping himself in several layers of bright yellow plastic clothing, he stumbled out to the garage. There, viewing the oil-stained concrete floor, he remembered that he'd parked his spaceship out back.

He was annoyed to find that someone had parked a big-rig right up against the back of his horseshoe-shaped spaceship. Retrieving his small, personal trampoline from the garage, he launched himself upwards toward the broad side of his ship. Fortunately, his space ship was paying attention and created a portal in her side just in time.

Where to, Captain? his ship queried.

Guess, he teased.

To the end of the universe?

You are truly too good for me, Shippy, he replied, admiringly. She liked it when he called her Shippy. He wasn't sure why, but suspected it was a malfunction due to do with hanging out with him too much.

Actually, Captain, it has been all over the newspapers. Shippy brought up the page in question on screen. Wonderment scanned the article in question and saw how his ship had reached her conclusion. He was not being immodest when he agreed with her this was just his sort of job. No one in their right would even think of tackling a job like this.

He settled his tall lanky frame into his big comfy chair in the area of the ship he liked to call his cockpit. Get us off this rock, Shippy, dear.

This was as easily done as it had been to say. Since the only thing holding them down was the electromagnetic bond she'd established with the ground, all she had to do was reverse it. They bobbed up into orbit around the planet like a cork in water.

I'm going to need some navigational coordinates, the ship reminded him gently.

The captain sighed heavily. It was bad enough when he was required to work, but having to think at the same time was a bit too much. He reached up over his head and brought down upon his crown a device that looked suspiciously like a metal bowl with a bunch of wires attached.

Letting go of his momentary negative thoughts with a quick shudder, Wonderment closed his eyes and began to concentrate. If there had been another party on board, it might have looked as though he'd simply fallen asleep. But Shippy knew what was going on. It never ceased to amaze her. Or frighten her.

Under her captain's directions she took off at such a multiple of the speed of light as to be utterly ridiculous. How they kept from running into objects, large or small, along the way was...well, her best computations couldn't begin to fathom how he did it. The ship found it easier to close down all outer sensors and simply not watch how they got there. It was much less stressful that way.

There were no amount of sensors anyway that could have taken in what was happening. And, since they were going faster than the speed of light and light was necessary in order to see anything, no one could see what was going on. The properties of space were violated, along with any number of laws of physics. Gravity never knew what hit it. It could be said that the captain gave the universe the cosmic equivalent of a stomach ache, only there was no one to complain to.

Captain Wonderment arrived not long after he hung up the phone. At MOISTER headquarters he was pumped like a slot machine. The way they were looking at him, he reflected, you'd think they were expecting money to come pouring out of his mouth any second now. Uncharacteristically, he kept his mouth shut. Just for the hell of it, he decided to shut up and listen.

Brynfriese and General Naymuth gave the dog and pony show themselves. The only other person in the room was a noncommissioned officer. Someone had to know how to run the audiovisual equipment.

Wonderment watched the replay of the attacks. He marveled at how the creatures seemed to literally come out of nowhere. He appreciated the aesthetics of their sharp, flat metallics gleaming in the corridor lights.