Chapter 28: You Ain’t Just Whistlin’ Dixie

You Ain’t Just Whistlin’ Dixie

The road was long and winding, but Viktor and Lataya’s way was suspiciously clear for several hundred miles. Perhaps it was because no intelligent creature, or even a really dumb one, would be stupid enough to mess with the monstrosity that now carried them. Or maybe it was just past rush hour, who could say?

In that time, Viktor mulled over their options as Lataya strummed the powerful strings of the sleek guitar. The electric reverberations both soothed him and sent him into a panic after the horrors of Dr.Gaggleboop’s simulation and the system he was given.

He shuddered to think of those bolded letters in front of him again, the system that made him too closely resemble what started this whole journey. The helplessness he felt was still very real, but there was so much still to do. They had come so far and been through so much, Viktor wasn’t about to let that all be for nothing. The Outworlders had to be stopped.

“We have a semi-monster-truck now,” Lataya stopped strumming, sitting up in the ginormous seat. “We have the one thing the Outworlders have no defense against. And it’s really supped up!”

“But we’re one unit. How many other Outworlders are out there?” Viktor’s sigh encompassed all the memories of all the Outworlders they have already encountered. “How many more lives will they ruin before we get to them.”

Lataya’s eyes glazed over staring out the shaded windows of the truck with too many teeth and a pang of loss hit Viktor squarely in the chest. It melted quickly into that rage of that moment when the Outworlders took her father and killed his king. That helplessness echoed inside him again, fueling the fires of his vengeful heart.

“No, princess. One semi-truck, as monstrous as it may be, is not going to be enough to stop the plague that continues to infect our world and every world like ours…” His voice trailed off, a somber expression reflecting on his face as he thought of any spark of an idea that hinted at a possible solution to the plague of Outworlders.

“If only we had the Mecha-Tesla-Zord, maybe we could find Semiopolis using that GPS thing. Or at least another World Core leak.” Viktor gripped aloud.

A display on the dash came alive and both humans inside jumped at the text on the screen.

IN THIS FORM, THIS UNIT IS EQUIPPED WITH I.P.S..

Both humans shared a look of dismayed bewilderment.

“Did you know it could do that?” Viktor asked Lataya, thinking that she used her ability to look through systems, but the princess shook her head.

“Alright,” Viktor took a breath, “I’ll bite. What is I.P.S.?” The previous message vanished as the screen went dark for the span of heartbeat.

I.P.S.

DEFINITION: INTERDIMENTIONAL POSITIONING SYSTEM; A MULTIDIMENTIONAL NAVIGATION SYSTEM THAT ALLOWS THE OPERATOR TO PINPOINT THE EXACT LOCATION, CALCULATE SPEED, AND TRACK MOVEMENT TO ANY DESIGNATED POINT IN INTERDIMENTIONAL SPACE AND TIME.

“Shut the front door…” Viktor muttered to himself as he read.

“Viktor!” Lataya squealed, bouncing on her over-large seat cushion, “It’s just like the crappy Tesla and Dura-Sol, but so much better!”

“Don’t get too excited,” though Viktor’s heart also surged with something he had not felt in a very long time, “Can you take us to Semiopolis?”

ENGAGING I.P.S.…

The screen went blank save for the continuous, repeated scroll of “...CALCULATING…” for many tense moments. Neither Viktor nor Lataya spoke or dared to breathe during its use of the IPS. Viktor was too nervous that any disturbance would jinx them somehow and he so desperately wanted– needed– to believe that there was a way, a path forward, to avenge his king and to prevent future atrocities from happening. In those brief seconds, he dared to hope that he could fulfill this quest and take the princess home.

The screen came alive again, displaying the result.

CALCULATION COMPLETE.

DESTINATION: SEMIOPOLIS, ATREBLA, CONVOY STAR, ANDROMEDA SECTOR

DISTANCE: 2.5 MM LY

ESTIMATED TIME OF ARRIVAL: 1 HOUR 23 MINUTES 17 SECONDS

CHOOSE SPECIFIC DESTINATION FOR MORE ACCURATE ETA.

“A specific place?” Lataya asked Viktor. “I thought Semiopolis was a specific place.”

“Apparently it’s more of a city,” Viktor supposed, “like our kingdom back home has the castel, your home, and all different manner of other homes, shops, and landmarks. I had never thought about what places Semiopolis might contain.”

“Viktor! You’re a genius!” Lataya proclaimed proudly.

“Uh, what did I say?” The knight’s confusion distracted him from the screen, but Lataya was too busy addressing the screen to answer him.

“Mr. Semi-monster-truck, we would like to go to the castle of Semiopolis!”

The screen went blank again and when it came back, it scrolled this time with the word “...RECALCULATING…”. Two things went through Viktor’s head, well three, but two that seemed important enough to ponder on. The first of which being how clever Lataya had become during this adventure of theirs and how proud her father would have been to see her growth. The other being how rude he felt for not inquiring as to their new ally’s name. He would have to remember to ask.

After several minutes, the screen came alive again with an alternative text from before.

CALCULATION COMPLETE.

DESTINATION: DUC-EE’S, SEMIOPOLIS, ATREBLA, CONVOY STAR, ANDROMEDA SECTOR

DISTANCE: 2.5 MM LY

ESTIMATED TIME OF ARRIVAL: 1 HOUR 26 MINUTES 42 SECONDS

PROCEED TO DESTINATION?

“Yes!” Lataya shouted with glee before Viktor had a chance to ask anything.

STARTING PLOTTED COURSE.

The two humans were jerked to the side as their current trajectory was suddenly changed. It was all Viktor could do to grasp onto a handhold in the door to avoid being flung in the princess’ direction. Checking on Lataya, he was relieved to find she had done something similar by gripping something hanging from the ceiling, the six-string abandoned on the seat.

“I wish you wouldn’t have done that!” Viktor gritted his teeth through the stomach retching turn. “We should have reviewed the course. There’s no telling where this Duc-ee’s is and it doesn’t sound like any castle I’ve heard of.”

The semi-monster-truck righted its course and both passengers shifted heavily in their seats. Viktor found his seat again only to see the screen change to a white background with a blue line extending from a picture of a square-ish, semi-truck shaped icon. At the top, inside a green banner, is the notation that the “next portal location is in 50 miles”.

Both humans stared blankly at the screen as the icon seemed not to move, but the lines beneath it drift past like the red dust outside they leave in their wake. Viktor watched as the miles counted down while Lataya picked up her instrument and plucked a few notes. The blue line led them to the sacred land filled with the beacon of hope and raging fire in his heart.

“What should we call you, Semi-monster-truck?” Viktor asked after the miles had ticked down to single digits. Text displayed over the map just under the green banner in its usual fashion.

MY FULL NAME IS SEMI-HEMI-DEMI-SEMI. MOST CALL ME HEMI-DEMI.

“You’re clearly more ‘semi’ than those other things now.” Viktor remarked as Lataya riffed a quick solo on the high strings. “But it feels wrong just calling you ‘Semi’. All of it together is just too much to say, though. Do you mind if I call you 128th?”

A noise, something like a warble, came from the speakers loud enough to hear over the roar of the engine and red dust. It was so brief that Viktor might have just imagined it.

“Why not just quaver?” Lataya suggested.

“Quaver? Naming someone that is just cruel.” Again the Semi-hemi-demi-semi quavered its short burst.

“See?” Lataya gestured toward the screen, “Quaver loves it! Don’t be so stingy, Viktor.”

The knight sighed as a strange artificial voice filled the cabin.

“In 2 miles, take the Land Down Under Portal toward Semiopolis.”

Indeed the green banner read that they were a mere 2 miles to the portal. Viktor wondered if that was actually Quaver’s voice, but honestly it sounded too feminine for a Semi-hemi-demi-semi Quaver monster truck.

“Quaver,” Viktor started slowly, “why do most call you Hemi-demi?”

I’M FASTER THAN MOST MODELS DUE TO MY SUPPED UP HEMI.

“What does a ‘hemi’ do?” As soon as the words were out of Viktor’s mouth, he and Lataya both were sucked back, plastered into the cushy seats.Quaver rocket forward as the portal came into view much quicker than Viktor had expected. Lataya squealed with joy, her arms over her head, as they raced for the blue, oblong portal. The only issue was that with their current trajectory, the portal would be a sharp 90 degree turn if they went much farther.

Viktor started to sweat. It was even worse when the blue line and the truck icon diverged and the strange, artificial woman said “recalculating” as the blue line skipped and jumped around like a poisonous frog from lily pad to lily pad. In the middle of the second time the voice was recalculating, Quaver jack-knifed and skidded across the packed red soil, spraying dust and debris, covering the windshield in a layer of it and momentarily blocking his sight from the portal.

“No, no, no, no!” Viktor objected as his stomach rolled with the force and pitch while Lataya whooped and hollered with enthusiasm.

Quaver ignored both its passengers and revved the massive engine once more, gaining forward momentum, and blazed a red path behind them. The trail of dust was all that was left of them once they streaked through and found themselves in a very different place.

Where once there was a dry expanse of red dust, was now a smooth, paved ramp in a metropolis very unlike anything he had visited before in this wild adventure. Quaver had the good sense to turn off the afterburners as they merged onto the widest road Viktor had ever seen which was populated with a litany of semi-trucks going in the same direction. To either side of the road were buildings made of sleek metal, stone, and wood of all colors and shapes mingling with trees, shrubs, and other vegetation that sprang up from purposeful holes in the hard surface they traveled on.

The two passengers gazed upon their new surroundings with awe and wonder as Quaver led them on, following the blue line on the screen once more. They passed by brightly lit signs and huge billboards with nonsensical pictures and phrases on them. Like the one with the angry cow asking about having chicken for dinner. Or the full course meal with a simple icon of a wooden barrel with a chip at the top. These things only confused Viktor as he reaffirmed with his sanity that cows don’t eat chickens and broken barrels don’t hold edible food or drink.

“In 500 ft, turn right on to the ramp for Duc-ee’s.” The feminine voice shook Viktor from his internal crisis as Quaver veered right and Viktor saw another sign that made little sense to him.

It sported a yellow duck on a tan background, but only the head of one, with a human-esk face. It smiled with its too orange beak open in its little red hat with a brim on only the front side. It was one part terror and one part curiosity to the knight, but he supposed he had been exposed to worse things than an abomination with the likeness of a duck. He wasn’t going to let the strangeness of this new place, Semiopolis, get the better of him now.

They pulled up and came to a halt in a massive flat lot. Well, it would have been flat if the rows and rows of semi-trucks weren’t parked tidily next to one another separated by bright yellow lines. Viktor supposed it was some kind of barrier, but after the female voice stated that they “have arrived” and the doors opened for both him and Lataya, he found it was only a thick layer of paint or material he couldn’t identify. But it was loudly yellow.

“Thank you, Quaver.” The engine rumbled for Viktor in response. “Would you mind waiting for us here? I’m not really sure who or what we are going to find in that huge building, but I would feel a lot better knowing that you were here. Just in case.”

The engine revved twice as Lataya joined him, her six string slung on her back. “Quaver will stay while we investigate the castle.” Her face beamed with anticipation and it warmed Viktor’s heart just a little bit. Both that Quaver would stay and that the little princess could still feel such a way after all that’s happened to her.

“Thanks again. Hopefully, we won’t be too long.” He said to Quaver before they departed. As the two made their way toward the “castle” known as Duc-ee’s, Viktor remarked to Lataya, “I’m still not sure this is a castle, though.”

The building wasn’t spired at all, though it was made of a kind of stone he supposed. It was barely the height of the palace walls back in their own world, but the width of it was every bit a castle plus the grounds, too. The other part that was familiar was the volume of diverse creatures traversing in and out of a magical door that opened when others were near. How did it know when travelers wanted to enter or exit? And why was there no guard? Did it somehow know that these people would keep the peace?

Inside is definitely not castle-like at all! The too-bright lighting is that of a miniature sun and worse as it reflects off the polished and pristine floor tiles. Once his eyes adjusted, Viktor didn’t quite know what to do, thinking that he must have come to the wrong place. From the isles and isles of canned and boxed goods to the endless fonts of merchandise with the head of their fabled duck emblazoned on every manner of item, wearable or otherwise, he found there was little hope left in him to find the help he needed here.

In the very center of the castletown known as Duc-ee’s, was a crowd gathered around a huge circular stall. Upon closer inspection, he found bustling people inside wearing the emblem of their fowl as proud as any livery and cooking, of all things! Not just cooking but shouting to each other in sing-song voices and answering duck calls with “yee-haws” while they served their customers who had gathered around them for the food and spectacle.

Some of their patrons joined in on the pageantry of it, joining in with the whoops and hollers and making duck calls. After long moments of observation, Lataya pulled at the knight’s hand, a bold smile on her face.

“Come on Viktor, let’s get a bite, too. I’m starving!” He let her lead him to the counter where a young lady in a duck apron and her hair pulled back greeted them.

“Well, howdy, you two. What can I do ya for?”

“We’re new here,” Lataya started and the young woman focused fully on her, “and we were wondering what you are serving.”

“Why, only the very best poutine in Semiopolis, little lady.” She ticks a finger at the princess with levity, a silly but sly expression on her face. “And since y’all are new here, how would ya like to try a bit. On the house of course.” She finished with a wink.

“What is poutine?” Viktor asked suspiciously.

“Oh y’all really are new here! Bless your hearts!” Her hands pressed flat on her chest before turning back to the rest of her compatriots in the duck livery and cupping her hand around her mouth. “We got new ducklings everyone!” A cacophony of yee-haws and quacking erupts from inside and outside the circle. All of the patrons, Viktor noticed, were wearing the duck somewhere on them.

Once the celebration died down, the young lady with the drawl returned with two baskets of a delicious smelling dish, covered in a thick sauce, and handed them to Lataya and Viktor in turn. “I hope y’all enjoy your first Duc-ee’s experience!”

Sensing a dismissal, the only two not wearing the yellow duck drifted away from the counter around the outer edge of the circle filled with rambunctious cooks. Viktor dipped a finger in the sauce to test it and uncovered a layer of something gooey and smooth. The taste of the gravy, it had to be gravy, was rich and thick, seasoned perfectly with the right mixture of meaty flavor and pepper.

“Use this.” A fork appeared in his vision, but made from some flimsy, black material. “I promise it gets better the more you dig in.” This new voice, of a man with a similar accent as the woman who served them, was clad in a button up shirt with duck prints and watermarked waves, and was of a height with Viktor. His receding hairline and slight gut told the knight that this man was likely older by a handful of years or more. Probably more.

Viktor took the too-light fork and thanked the man, as he handed it to Lataya so she could eat the meal she had so looked forward to. Her eyes lit up and she wasted no time stabbing straight to the bottom of the basket, stuffing her face with long golden tubes covered in the gravy and the smooth substance, which was actually quite stringy. As she chewed, trills of her surprise and satisfaction escaped her.

“It’s potatoes, Viktor! With cheese and gravy.” Lataya handed him the silly fork, which he took and tried for himself.

His spirit left his body and he saw the clothes he was wearing be torn to ribbons in an instant by an invisible force. The shock of the crunchy, chunky fried potato in square tubes had a soft middle that melded perfectly with the savory gravy. But then, the cheese! Yes, Lataya was right that it was a smooth, melty cheese, enhanced by the salt on the potatoes and the umami of the gravy and– by all the stars in the heavens– they were curds! Only curds could give such a depth of flavor that made you salivate for the next bite.

“Viktor?”

The knight jumped with the shock and sighed with relief to know that he was still wearing all his clothing and armor. Wiping a bit of drool from his mouth, Viktor wasn’t about to dwell on whatever sorcery he had just experienced and gave the fork back to Lataya who continued to eat greedily. While Viktor wanted nothing more than to finish the basket of the dish called poutine, he was now very wary of doing so.

“Thank you, friend.” Viktor cleared his throat to gain his composure as he turned back to the man with the receding hairline. “That was quite excellent, but very… intense.”

“Don’t mention it. This is the best gosh-darn place and I know I ain’t alone for wantin’ to spread the good word. Where y’all from?”

The invitation was so welcoming that when Viktor told him of their kingdom, he launched into the whole sorted story. Their king, the Outworlders, how they escaped, the allies they met, the vow Viktor made, and every Outworlder they had encountered since. He left out not a single thing, and even included the singing. Once he was done, he felt both better for commiserating with this duck-clad man, but also a bit worse for recalling the whole thing.

“...And so here we are, in castle Duc-ee’s, to find allies in our quest and to fulfill my promise to a truly great man.”

“Wow. A real knight and a princess to boot. Sounds like y’all could use a hand” The man started and offered Viktor his hand. “The name’s Dusty Rowdy, but most ‘round here know me as The Dispatcher.”

Viktor took Dusty’s hand appreciatively and shook it, the last of his bitter mood leaving him as he did so. “We really could use any and all help. If you know of any Semi-trucks or Road-trains willing to help us, I would be forever in your debt.”

“Well, you’d be in luck, my friend.” Dusty chuckled. “I happen to know a whole fleet of them.”

Viktor’s jaw dropped. Lataya had to finish swallowing her mouthful of poutine before hers followed suit. It took the two of them a long breath before they clasped hands and Viktor saw the hope glisten in the princess’ eyes. It welled and flowed there and Viktor wasn’t ashamed to feel a surge of that same hope in his chest. With any luck, it wasn’t flowing as freely as Lataya’s but at this point, he was restraining himself from embracing the man in front of them who called himself the Dispatcher.

“Would you be willing to help us rid our land, and the many others, from the scourge of Outworlders who threaten our way of life?” Viktor held his breath for the response.

“Aw, hell! Of course I will, Viktor! Don’t get all formal on me, alright? I ain’t no knight in shining armor like you.”

“Oh, thank you! Thank you, Dispatcher man.” Lataya did actually hug him, clinging to his duck-clad gut while still holding the basket of half eaten poutine.

“Don’t mention it, princess.” He scruffed her hair on top of her head before turning back to Viktor. “So how many Outworlders are we talkin’? 5? 10? 100? How many trucks are we gonna need to pull this off?”

“That,” Viktor paused, mulling it over, “is a very good question.” Honestly, it was a small miracle that they had made it here and sure enough, castle Duc-ee’s in Semiopolis was exactly the place they had needed to find all along. “As I said, we’ve run into quite a few, so who really knows how many other kingdoms they’ve threatened. Or ruined.”

“What about those HOA people?” Lataya dislodged herself from Dusty and continued to shove the cheesy, gravy covered potatoes into her mouth. Her next words were muffled by potato. “She knew exactly where to find us. Maybe she can do the same with misplaced Outworlders.”

“The HOA Enforcement Squad?” Viktor asked, recalling the strange run-in they had after testing the semi-projector runes.

“You’re talkin’ ‘bout the one lead by Mrs. Kim, right?” Dusty’s inquiry widened the knight’s eyes to bulging.

“Yes. How did you know?”

“Oh, I recognized the name while y’all were tellin’ me yer crazy tale. Yup, the wife’s good friends with Mrs. Kim. They play bridge together every other Saturday. I’ll have her check in and ask for a list of names and locations so we can get this party started!” He clapped his hands as he strode off into the merchandise section of the castle, calling for his wife.

“Do you think Mrs. Kim will give him all the information we need to save everyone from the Outworlders?” Lataya said as they both watched him go and she took the last few bites of her poutine.

“I’m not sure, but it sounds very possible. Even though we only just met him, I trust that the Dispatcher will come through for us.”

“Well, then we’ll just have to be ready when he does.” Lataya beams up at him.

If only Viktor knew what to be ready for, he would be less uneasy about trusting in their new friend. Whatever was coming their way, he just hoped it would happen sooner rather than later. In that sense he was prepared to do whatever was necessary.

“Um,” Lataya started, shaking Viktor out of his reverie, “are you going to eat that?” She was pointing to the basket still in his hand and Viktor chuckled before handing it over to her.

“It’s all yours, princess.”

In the time it took her to eat the second basket of poutine, Dusty had returned with his wife, a wide-set woman with shoulder length hair and a matronly smile. She greeted Lataya by holding a pink, duck-printed dress up to her as if to size her. Impressively, it looked like it would likely fit.

“Dusty told me you were a princess, but he didn’t tell me you were so dang cute! Come with me darlin’, we gotta get you changed!” She held out her hand for Lataya who took it after a questioning look to Viktor, who nodded in turn.

“Get changed for what?” She asked as Mrs. Rowdy led her away from the men. It was Dusty who answered to Viktor.

“For our convoy.”

“Convoy?” Viktor’s brows pinched with confusion. “Isn’t that the name of this star?”

“It sure is! Pardon for presumin’, but I figured it might be y’alls first. Besides that, the missus was wild at the chance to do some shopping with the little lady.”

“Uh, alright, but what is a convoy?”

“Oh, right!” Dusty knocked his wrist against his head, “Duh. It’s when a whole line of semi-trucks travel with each other. It’s the most noble and notable courtesy of the road, to band together for the good of all. And today brother, that includes you.” He placed a heavy hand on Viktor’s shoulder and his back straightened involuntarily. It felt almost like being in the Kingsguard again and a familiar pride filled his chest.

“I suppose we will have to find a driver for you and the little miss to ride along with.”

“Oh, no need. We will be joining you with Quaver, our semi-monster-truck who brought us here.”

“You– That man-eating road-train is y’alls?”

Viktor nods. “Yes. Quaver. Didn’t I mention them in my story?”

“I guess I didn’t realize it was so docile…” Dusty paused in a thoughtful posture. “Well, you need a call sign then.”

“Pardon?”

“A call sign, it’s somethin’ all truckers use to identify one another via the C.B..” Viktor swore that Dusty was speaking the common tongue, but for the life of him he could not understand all the words together.

“Viktor! Viktor!”

The Knight swung around at Lataya’s voice, alarmed at first, but relaxing visibly when he spotted her in the pink dress with the ducks, escorted by Mrs. Rowdy. She ran right up to him, giggling and arms full of duck-printed things.

“Duc-ee’s castle is just the best! Mrs. Rowdy got me this dress and these bracelets and look how stretchy these pants are! Oh! And we found some things for you, too!”

“For me?” Viktor tilted his head, curious as she unfurled the same button down top that Dusty was wearing. “You think it will fit over my armor?” Everyone laughed as Viktor took the shirt.

“And this.” Lataya took his hand and placed a toy in it that bore the likeness of the duck wearing a red hat.

“Ha!” Dusty exclaimed. “That’s it! Your call sign! You are now The Rubber Duck.” He pointed at Viktor as he proclaimed it proudly.

Viktor wasn’t sure that he understood any of it, but as they made their way back to Quaver, Dusty explained the lingo more in depth. Who would have known that these truckers had their own language embedded in his own, not to mention this entire world that revolved around unspoken rules of the road. Which had now been spoken to him, so maybe it wasn’t so unspoken after all.

Quaver revved their engine when the group got close and opened both doors for Viktor and Lataya which made Dusty have to shout over the noise.

“You got the plan now?” Rusty put on a front-billed hat with the duck on the front wearing what looked to be the same hat and Viktor nodded.

“I think so.”

“Remember we are on channel 1-9. I’ll see ya on the road, there, Rubber Duck!” Each of them waved a farewell to the other and Viktor climbed in.

“You heard him Quaver, we need to be on channel 1-9.” Quaver gave an incredible fast chirp as a display above the dash popped up where once there was none and a black bulbous piece hanging on a wire dropped and bounced from the ceiling.

Both he and the princess jumped at the item that dangled from the thick, curling wire, but quickly recovered. She propped up her six string against the seat as Viktor inspected the bouncing piece. Then, Lataya reached over and placed the likeness of castle Duc-ee’s on top of the new display above Quaver’s massive screen that tracks the IPS.

“Mrs. Rowdy told me this is where it goes. So I guess it’s really for Quaver. Do you mind, Viktor? I know I gave it to you and it gave you your new name. I was just so excited to show you…” Her voice trailed off as she secured the duck toy, her frame small enough to stand in the cabin in front of the screen and dash.

“It looks better on Quaver, princess.” Viktor tried to put her mind at ease.

“I’m glad you think so… Viktor?” Her voice was so soft it was barely audible over the sound of Quaver backing out of their parking spot and taxi-ing back to the main road. “When this is all over, will we really get to go back home?”

Viktor was taken aback by this sudden font of emotion from the girl. They had both been through so much, it was hard to remember sometimes that she was still only 11. She had to mature so quickly since the day her father died and even became a supremely powerful being over the course of their journey, but it was comforting to know that she was still the same girl who needed guidance and reassurance.

“Yes.” Viktor smiled wanly and took her hand, pulling her back gently onto the over-large bench. “Yes, princess. We are going home to reclaim your throne and take back our kingdom.”

Tears welled in her eyes as she looked up at Viktor. “Promise?”

Viktor nodded and got down off his seat to face her as much as he could on one knee. Awkwardly, he drew his sword, who delighted in being unsheathed, and held it upright in front of him as much as the cabin would allow.

“Sword, I am making a new vow that I would have you bare witness to.”

“Oh, well, I suppose that is a close second to splitting open lesser creatures. Very well. I will hear your oath.”

“I, Viktormendorf von Ausgulten-bingen-bongen of Ulm, do hereby swear to honor, serve, and protect Princess Lataya, rightful heir of the throne of The Grafted King and to restore her to her position as Queen and seat of power. Long may she reign and may I serve her until my dying breath.”

Lataya’s tears overflowed to hear his oath and instead of taking the sword, she collapsed, embracing Viktor fiercely, and sobbed. Viktor set down the sword, who acknowledged his new vow, carefully on the bench and folded her in his arms, patting the head of his little queen, the most powerful being in any of the strange places they’d been.

Lataya pulled away as Quaver rumbled through the streets of Semiopolis and the new display came alive. It scrolled through red digital numbers and there was a static crackling throughout the cabin each time the numbers changed until it reached 1-9. Voices streamed through, a conversation from a half dozen unknown people in trucks like this one. Maybe not like this one, Quaver seemed to be a kind of anomaly, but similar in the way that they were all in semi-trucks.

The chatter was cut by the familiar voice of Dusty.

“Breaker, breaker, 1-9. This is Dispatch and we’re sendin’ an all-out bulletin for our Rubber Duck. This lane is hot, I tell you what, and we got a little bit for all y’all. Come on back, now, for yers.” Static filled the cabin until another voice answered.

“That’s a 10-4, Dispatch. This is Pig Pen and you can sign me up. Come back with the deets.”

“10-4, Dispatch. We been waitin’ a long time for this. This is Blue Lightning and all the crew here wants a piece! Over.”

A dozen or more responses came back in similar trucker fashion and as they did, Viktor noticed more and more semi-trucks join around and behind Quaver, who revved their engine in anticipation. Dusty’s shout filled the cabin.

“Hooooowee! Mercy, saint’s alive, boys! Looks like we got ourselves a convoy!”

Truck horns went off in long blares behind them and Lataya asked Quaver if they had anything like that. Quaver responded with scrolling dots on the screen, which Viktor came to realize was something like thought. Finally, it responded with, “ENGAGING CELEBRATION HORN.”

It did not sound like any of the other horns but had a kind of melody to it. As expected, it was quick and complex with a trill at the end. Lataya giggled and picked up her six string to try and replicate it.

“Boy howdy, Rubber Duck! You ain’t just whistlin’ Dixie!” Viktor didn’t know what “dixie” was but it sounded good from the tone of it.

Quaver’s screen came alive with the white map background and semi-monster-truck icon at the bottom. The blue line followed as the green banner at the top stated their next stop, a portal off-ramp in 6 miles. The ultimate destination was his own kingdom and Viktor could think of no better homecoming for his new queen than this.

The cabin was filled with a different noise then, that of twangy plucked strings and at first, Viktor thought it was Quaver, and had a moment of panic when he thought it was like that musical number where they were forced to sing, but thankfully it was none of those as Dusty’s voice came over the CB.

“Breaker 1-9, this is Dispatch and we are locked and loaded. Rubber Duck, let’s kick this pig. 10-4?”

Lataya had gotten the tune now, and switched from dixie to the convoy music over the radio. Viktor took the bulbous black box dangling on the coiled wire and brought it up to his mouth, pushing in the trigger on the side with his thumb.

“Dispatch, this here is the Rubber Duck. It’s time to put the hammer down.”

Whoops and shouts and a few “yee-haws” called out over the music and Quaver responded by picking up speed, their destination closing in fast. The music swelled and Viktor was surprised to hear lyrics.

“‘Cause we’ve got a mighty convoy,

Ain’t she a beautiful sight.

Come on and join our convoy,

Ain’t nothin’ gonna get in our way.

We’re gonna roll this truckin’ convoy,

Across interdimensional spaaaaace.”

Quaver was the first through the portal, but followed closely by several others down the off-ramp. On the other side they found themselves a few miles outside of their kingdom according to the green banner, but Viktor knew exactly where they were. The portal had brought them not far from the forest where they took refuge from the Outworlders that took the castle. Lataya’s castle.

Viktor seethed inside. A raging fire was stoked upon seeing familiar landmarks blaze by as Quaver rocketed on. There was one thing that bothered him about this plan, that he wasn’t sure how to locate the Outworlders and lure them to a place where the convoy would be effective. It seemed a small detail when he and Dusty talked it over, but now that he was here and the convoy was truckin’, he was desperate to keep the momentum of this moment. He took up the hanging black box.

“Pig Pen, this is Rubber Duck. What is your 20? Uh… over.”

“10-4,I read you, Rubber Duck. My pay load is located inside a castle. Can you believe those cowards? Over.”

Lataya put down her six string to pull down Viktor’s hand and pressed his thumb still on the button. “This is the Pretty Duckling. You leave that to me, 10-4?”

Pig Pen’s affirmation came over the radio and Viktor looked at her in question and awe. “What do you plan to do?”

“Remember how we asked Space Supreme to teleport us to Earth?” Viktor nodded. “Well I didn’t want to say anything then but I used my ability to see through systems when he did it. So now, I think I understand how teleportation of other beings works.”

“You are going to… teleport them? Outside the castle?”

Lataya nodded, grinning like a wiley cat. “Uh-huh. But I have to be pretty close to use it.”

“How close?”

“Just outside the gates should do it.”

Viktor nodded and let the other truckers know to wait outside the gate for the Outworlders to arrive and to show no mercy once they did. Quaver sped along the blue line before coming to a screeching halt when Lataya said she was in range. The other truckers followed suit and surrounded the gates into the castle town and idled menacingly.

The knight’s heart thrummed in his chest as Lataya clasped her hands together at her own as if praying, the pulsing of his heart loud in his ears. He believed in her, he could do nothing else. Both his vengeful rage and his duty-bound soul cried out for whatever ability she was attempting, would work.

“There are more than I expected…” She muttered, the strain of it plain on her face.

“You can do this, princess.” Viktor set an encouraging hand on her shoulder to let her know that he was here and wished just as fervently as she did. They had the weapons and found all the tools they needed. Now, they had to execute.

Shimmers formed in front of the gates as Lataya groaned. “It’s working, princess! You are doing it! Just a little more, Lataya!”

Lataya’s scream filled the cabin. It was a raw sound filled with loss and grief for the father she lost, for the childhood she lost, and for the kingdom she could yet save. Once she was done, her throat cracked and tired, she slumped in her seat as the Outworlders popped into existence in a group in front of the line of idling semi’s.

Their reactions varied from the sudden displacement, but all were horrified to see their arch nemesis before them. Especially after Quaver let loose the celebration horn, which was closely followed by all the other truck horns along the line. Then, they scattered, running in all directions in an attempt to flee.

“Oh, no you don’t.” Viktor mumbled dangerously under his breath. “Quaver! Punch it!”

And Quaver did punch it. Straight forward into the Outworlder he knew to be called Benjamin. His body was carried on Quaver’s grill until it was flattened against the gate, a spray of blood and crunch of wood and bone were all that remained of the so-called “MILF-hunter”. Viktor smiled darkly as Quaver backed up to reveal the bloodied “Mega-Destroyer” text on his caved in chest.

That was the kill that kicked the other truckers into gear. Hollers ran out over the radio and Victor delighted in the thrill of the hunt, the frenzy of revenge. Quaver was about to move on to another target when Viktor noticed Benjamin’s body twitch.

“Quaver, protect the princess and let me out. I’ll not leave a single Outworlder in this kingdom alive to threaten her again.” Quaver chirped and did as the knight instructed it to. Once he was away, Quaver’s door closed and it moved on with Lataya still recovering inside.

Viktor drew his sword and approached the corpse cautiously, the sword commenting appreciatively for being included in their number one favorite pastime, but the knight’s focus was razor sharp on the dangerous being in front of him. Just as he came up to it, the body jerked and came alive as the sword screamed a warning.

He swung, dodging the lunge of the corpse– it had to be dead with the amount of blood and guts that spewed from its broken husk– slicing through the deformed chest cavity. As he turned to face it again, Viktor was shocked to find the body still on its feet, but with weird janky movements and the knight gave a curse. “Necromancy.”

“Indeed! We need to find the necromancer instead. This puppet’s blood is already going cold.” The sword griped.

“Okay, where is he, then?” Viktor scanned the vicinity and the other Outworlders desperately running from semi-trucks. He found no sign of anyone casting magic and the sword gave no indication of a direction.

The corpse of Benjamin lunged again toward Viktor who dodged easily but took the opportunity to grab the zombie’s throat, activating the rune on his palm. “Where is your master?” The knight ground out, his jaw clenched with rage and exertion.

The corpse gurgled and Viktor let his grip loosen. “Around the corner.” It rasped and pointed in a direction.

Shocked that this thing worked on a walking corpse, Viktor kicked him away and ran in the direction it pointed. As he rounded the corner, he found an Outworlder he had never seen before abruptly stop chanting. His eyes widened at the sight of Viktor whose heart was filled with vengeance and ran screaming in the other direction.

Viktor caught up to him in a flash, anticipating the necromancer’s flight, and bashed him over the head with the hilt of his sword. The Outworlder dropped like a sack of potatoes and Viktor kicked him with an armored boot. They writhed and moaned in pain onto their back, which is when the knight plunged his sword into their chest.

The look of terror and pain as they coughed up the blood that filled their lungs and throat satisfied Viktor enough to gaze out at the battlefield they had made outside his home. But it was not to the Outworlder’s advantage this time. This time Viktor was fighting for something much more precious than the converted experience they craved so dearly. It was for his home and his queen.

As he flicked the remaining blood off his sword and sheathed it, he spotted Quaver running down and gaining on a familiar figure heading in his direction. Lataya appeared, half her body hanging out of the passenger-side window, and screaming at the top of her lungs. “It’s him! Viktor! IT’S CLYDE!”

Sneering at the name of the murderer of his king, Viktor growled, a low guttural sound as he leapt into action, running to meet their prey halfway. As he closed in and Quaver ate the distance between their quarry on the other side, the Outworlder known as Clyde Barkley shifted directions from them both. Viktor and Quaver adjusted simultaneously, meeting at the apex of a 90 degree turn where Viktor jumped onto the outside of Quaver. He planted his feet on the step sides, holding on to the rear view so he was close to Lataya.

“We can’t let him get away!” Lataya pleaded, as somehow Clyde was able to remain ahead of them.

“And we won’t.” Viktor’s mind worked furiously and after a moment’s hesitation he told her, “Be ready, I’m going to try and stop him.”

“What are you going to do?”

“Something crazy.” And then Viktor climbed to the front of Quaver as they raced around the castle walls. While he did, he muttered to Quaver so Lataya couldn’t hear over the noise and wind. “When I give you the signal, stop dead and launch me at him.”

Quaver chirped and they both waited for the right moment when Clyde was a straight shot. Viktor clenched the hood of Quaver to keep himself from shaking. He had one shot at this. One opening to avenge his king and may all the stars in heaven shine down on him to make it so.

“NOW!”

Quaver stopped. Viktor let go and flew toward his target. He could hear Lataya’s scream grow distant as he glided without wings, arms outstretched and ready to strangle the life out of the man that ruined his life and that of his queen. He connected to a shocked Clyde with a bone clattering crunch.

Viktor’s yelp of pain was stunted by the air leaving him as he and Clyde both hit the ground and skidded several yards before they both came to rest in a heap.The knight knew something, or maybe multiple somethings, were broken, and he groaned as he regained his breath. Clyde shifted underneath him and tried to crawl away. Panic filled Viktor as he struggled to move, willing his body to do anything. He could not let this murderer get away from him!

With all his rage, he growled and forced an arm to swing over and grab the Outworlder by the ankle as he stood on shaky legs. Clyde whimpered and struggled to escape Viktor’s grip, but the knight gritted his teeth and with a frenzy of adrenaline, held him to the spot, joining his one hand with the other.

Suddenly, Lataya was there in front of the Outworlder, tears streaming down her angry face. Clyde stopped struggling until he realized who she was, but before he could react, she rushed him. Viktor had only seen her move so fast in Gaggleboop’s death race and used her exploding palm strike directly on his chest, a small mist of red dust puffing out his back.

Clyde stared, dumbfounded at the princess and his chest before meeting her eyes. “It was just a game… It was all supposed to be a game…” He toppled over and Viktor let go of the dead man, a weight lifting from his chest.

At first he breathed easy, a soft whimper of a laugh escaping his cracked throat, but too soon all his pains came back to him tenfold and he felt that he had reached his limit. The edges of his vision blurred and darkened. The last thing he remembered was Lataya weeping over him.

***

“Do you have a 3?” Queen Lataya asked some weeks later.

Viktor scoffed in his bed in the infirmary of the castle, and handed her the 3 in his hand. “You are still really good at this game.” He remarked.

“Maybe it’s not me who is skilled, but you who are still lacking in the ways of Go Fish.” She grinned in a mischievous way and Viktor could not be happier to lose at Go Fish. He hoped that he never improved in this skill for his Queen’s sake. Long may she reign.