Free The Adventures of Buckaroo Banzai by Earl Mac Rauch Page B

Yes, there was much to be done and little time.
    The groggy voice of John Bigbooté came on the line, almost whining, it seemed to John Whorfin. “What’s the matter, John Bigbooté?” he said tersely. “Did I take you from something important?”
    “No, I was just getting some snooze.”
    “What kind of language is that?” Whorfin screamed “Snap to attention when I talk to you! I’ll have your head! Prepare for my return!”
    Bigbooté seemed to revive, understanding that this was not a mere social call. Far from his original muttering tone of voice, he now began to purr. “Lord Whorfin, my liege, this is the happiest night of my life,” he sputtered. “Where are you?”
    “Camped by the side of the road,” rejoined Whorfin. “You’ll send a car.”
    “Yes, of course, but—”
    “What?”
    “Isn’t there danger? I am concerned about your safety.”
    “Be concerned about your own. Things had better be in order.”
    “Of course. I’ll be right there.”
    Whorfin gave him the location and hung up the phone, rubbing his hands together. He had thinking to do, plans to create. There was a saying on Planet 10, “No positive edifice can be built on a negative foundation.” First he had to get Banzai’s OSCILLATION OVERTHRUSTER and then work his Lectroids into a fury to complete the Panther Ship being built secretly at Yoyodyne. By morning, he would be at his place, back where he belonged at the head of his paltry band of fighters on this worthless blue planet named Earth. What had to follow would not be easy. He did not underestimate his formidable array of adversaries who would do all they could to thwart him, once his plans became known. Secrecy must be the foremost consideration. Accordingly, he stepped away from the deserted country road for the cover of a tree. The night was clear, the location of Planet 10, his home, hidden by the bright edge of the moon. Somewhere up there as well, his hated nemesis, the Nova Police, were on constant patrol. How much did they know? he wondered. Had they been alerted to his presence on Earth? God, how he hated this place! Better to die fighting, to be torn to pieces and scattered like cosmic dust throughout the universe than to be standing here under a tree in New Jersey.
    A thought came to mind. It was Lizardo’s thought, wild and beautiful as it was. Something about the little Jap, Hikita. Whorfin laughed, his cackle echoing in the stillness, as he seized upon the idea before Lizardo could take it back. “Too late, Lizardo,” he gloated. “Good idea.”
    In the chaos of the escape, he had nearly forgotten about Lizardo: now, his fancy excited, he probed the disorder of the old man’s mind. “So you think the little Jap Hikita might be able to get me the Overthruster? I hadn’t thought of that. In turn, he could be my key to getting off this rock. Is that what you’re thinking? Nice work. That means I’d be leaving you, and you could get on with your life.”
    “What life?” snorted Lizardo. “You’ve taken my life, you indolent maggot! You parasite!”
    “But you’d be your old self again. You’d have your old body . . . er, young body back again.”
    Poor Lizardo’s lip trembled. “What do you mean?”
    “Why, I mean in the Eighth Dimension your body’s just where you left it—young, just as it was that day in ’38. How old were you then?”
    Lizardo’s mind was reeling. For half a minute he could not think or speak. “Twenty-five,” he said.
    “Then that’s how old you’d be again. Twenty-five . . . your whole life ahead of you. Vibrant and young! You could marry, have children, gain the fame that rightfully should be yours.”
    “More probably than not you’re lying.”
    “Help me prove it, Emilio.” Lizardo wished at all costs to believe such a thing but could not, trying desperately to pull away as Whorfin reached around their body to clasp hands. “Help me return to the Eighth Dimension with the Overthruster. You have