Ironically the second thing to happen was when he thought of the word "bomb"
BOOM! His ship started rocking like was being bombarded by BOMBS!
"AAH! What's happening!" he screaming rocking and thumping along with the ship.
The rumbling didn't last very long; in the strange silence that followed, his head felt light and possibly empty. Worse, there was a moment where it wobbled, and then Wile, furry face and all, met the floor with astounding pressure.
Man, what a knackered way to wake up!
Both of the jackal's eyes darted to the green monitor; the screen was going through an extreme turbulence, appearing completely blurry. Wile saw multiple things flashing past the screen. Gigantic, irregular things with bumpy, solid edges, barely recognizable in the vast blackness of space.
"Meteoroids?" Wile pondered, jumping back into the pilots seat and running a thorough scan on the screen. It was a close guess; but instead, they were about the size of Television Sets from the Forties, so he remembered.
More of them, varying in masses he couldn't begin to imagine, were clustered like bees in dusty levels that all followed some kind of set rotation that felt directed towards something out there they may or may not have been a source of heavy gravitational pull; In other words, he was wandering through an asteroid field.
The extreme pain Wile was feeling, augmented by his own malnourished frame... and the lack of anything meaty in his stomach, was small in comparison to what he was seeing, and what seeing had revealed: The Solar System in the Milky Way Galaxy, according to the Agicalc, had an asteroid field that hung around a large portion of the space between the planets of Mars and Jupiter...
NO, no, no, no, Wile thought sadly, brushing the thought aside with an agitated frown. That shouldn't actually be possible. I know it's getting my hopes up, but I can't be in the Solar System just yet. There's NO WAY... Given my extreme insomnia over the last 60 days, there's no telling how many days I've lost with... that really, really, really, CRAZY dream I had.
That and the idea of, "Oh gee, I passed out, now I'm suddenly there" doesn't really do it for me, that doesn't MAKE any sense. I mean, logically, I might be at the EDGE of the Milky Way Galaxy, but the Solar System is still light years away. I have NO idea what to expect. I could have just entered into a stray ASTEROID field.
And if I get HIT BY AN ASTEROID THE HULL WILL CRACK, and if the HULL CRACKS...
At that point a poofy cloud vision jumped into his head that had an image of Wile's face, gone blue from lack of air and breath, and his eyes were inflating to a HUGE size, and the eyes were making a rubbery sound that indicated there were going to POP into BLOODY little pieces in a matter of seconds...
Of course the real Wile's body went cold and in a colossal burst of energy jumped up to the controls and holographic screen and yelled, "NUTS TO THAT!" He needed to get out of the asteroid field quickly!
Wile didn't commandeer the controls with frantic desperation like you'd think; but instead, the most he could've done at that moment was increase the speed of the thrusters, and pay close attention to the Holo-screen for any sudden movements of huge asteroid chunks; the thought of that just made his knees shake, like they were made of jelly.
The ship was ducking one or two medium-sized asteroids and whipped past a stray one that seemed to not be moving at all. From Wile's point of view it looked like an entire crust of a planet zooming past him; the Wolf was, in proportion, so feeble to the size of the asteroid, he was more like a flea traversing the back of a small mammal.
Inside, Wile used both his large feet to snatch the controls and then grabbed the handles controlling the wings. He started wedging both up and down in a "sideways" position to shift the balance of the ship away from more rocks.
The storm slightly intensified; despite all of his efforts, rocks no bigger than his head or larger than the pair of unfinished robot legs were pelting the ship and he could feel it. Arguably, the hull could hold against it, but Wile doubted as much as he shifted the horizontal lay of the wings to the right now, and the ship was taking more dives. More dives, then Wile saw a bigger asteroid coming up like a speedy ball, and he got desperate. The feet grabbing the controls turned them sharply to the right, as he did the wings, and the Wolf started doing an extreme spin where it swooped down and lightly, very, very lightly scratched against the uneven surface of the asteroid.
"NNNNNNNGGGGGGGGHH!"
!
The hull of the ship now had multiple scratch marks on it, nasty ones, but they were barely threatening enough to have penetrated the hull. Inside a wriggly coyote was unable to hold onto the manual controls for the Wings, and he lost both control of them and the controllers. He fell off the chair and bumped his hard noggin against the metal wall, and cursed.
Wile shook out of the painful daze, jumped back into the chair and "glued" himself to the lucid green screen. His breathing picked up with demonic speed; fear was now gripping his whole body.
About 20% of the Wolf had been damaged, but nothing short of body "scratches" Wile could just buffer out. The more he'd get hit, then double the damage the ship'd sustain until it'd break! Seconds jumped into many, many minutes where Wile could hear nothing but the sound of his heavy breathing, and also the mashing of the controls. The ship was dodging and swoooooping multiple rocks the size of houses, the turbulence ridiculously harsh, and the bumpiness rivaling the sharp shocks rocking his unbelievably facile nervous system.
There was also a moment where Wile thought he could see the end- oh, but that was like a MILLION leagues away or something! He needed a quick and easy exit...
Like a stroke of lightning, shit got real in that instant. Wile E. Coyote had a stroke of genius. He needed to have the ship target a proxy and the system would immediately follow it, tugging him in a slingshot motion that would pull him towards the wider edge of the storm and shoot him straight out of the storm. Too bad he absolutely NO idea WHAT to target!
FFFFFWOOOOOOOOOOSSH
Huh...!/?
He saw it. Shining as brightly as a large beacon in the depths of space, He wasn't sure what it was, and he rubbed both eyes to make sure he wasn't being delusional. The radar on the Wolf didn't pick up anything in proximity of the shuttle, but Wile guessed this strange source of light was most likely several hundred meters away, and the radar on the ship could detect anything almost a thousand yards away. There was this strange homing beacon of light that was almost blinding, and it was zipping across the lonely, but noisy chasm of space at a ridiculous speed.
It zoomed STRAIGHT into the Asteroid field, ricocheting from giant rock to giant rock; Wile dropped his mouth open since he'd already deigned that most of those irregularly sized killer boulders could flatten a planet in almost seconds.
"What is that...?" he breathed in a hoarse whisper.
There was no mistaking it was a comet, for it to be hurtling fast enough to have a gigantic bright field of energy surrounding it; but two things were out of place. For one, what kind of Meteoroid can just SLING from space rock to space rock?
Second, it didn't look like a regular kind of meteor.
In hindsight, the Agicalc described them as large chunks of space rocks or falling debris of destroyed planets that after a set number of years gain speed after being drawn by an incredibly close, large field of gravity around an even greater object, thought Wile, who was still manuevering the whole ship to dodge all that regular giant and small space rocks in the asteroid field. He needed to keep up his actions while simultaneously processing the thought; but the strain acted like a vicious backlash, making him pant, panic, wheeze, and let out a startled scream every couple of seconds. I don't know what they're supposed to look like since I've never seen an image of one; but the Agicalc was never wrong. The movements of this particular Meteoroid, and I can't believe I'm thinking this, but they seem to be... GUIDED. The path is so irregular, interchanging and supercharged with each deceleration bumping straight back into a set velocity of almost 100,000 km/s, so unlikely, y-you'd think (ACK! stupid asteroids) something was steering it from the inside, or the rock had a mind of its own...
Wile viciously shook his head when the next theory stuck fast, leaving him with a facet of terror.
WAIT A MINUTE! Maybe.. that's...
It caught fire, then he poured water on the fire. Given his situation, the hopelessness it posed, and equally hopeless futility of a hunch he had otherwise no way in hell kind of proof to concretely hinge his chances on escape. Anyone would've thought he was crazy. Said people he couldn't blame; half of what he was thinking didn't make ANY sense! Apart from space culture, Earth-current culture, histories, wars, events, and religious myths, Wile learned of the age-old myth about UFOs and flying saucers.
That of course, didn't help any. Wile was 3 centuries and 9 years AHEAD into the future, and the Agicalc taught him everything related to the current world he almost inhabited, then fled. UFOs didn't have any credibility in this case, because with all the spaceships, interstellar travel and technological advancement that was abundant of the planet the last time he ever saw it, UFOs would've been treated normally in the future!
In movement the bizzare anomaly had all the reflexes of some pro-athelete runner, which was stunning, even for Wile; the obvious impact it made with each rock it kept bouncing to and fro from was in a simultaneous and spontaneous fashion, almost like... keen reflexes. But t-this couldn't even be possible; it was, for lack of a better term, physically impossible.
The speedy comet was headed HIS way!... but seconds later it passed. Earlier, when only hundreds of meters apart from each other, something clicked in Wile E. Coyote's entire body like a building with all its' lights turned on simultaneously. He didn't want to admit it, heck, he was afraid of acknowledging what could be the truth, but there was no way to avoid the concrete evidence that he saw something inside the flaming, ricocheting rock.
WAS it? Assuming it WAS true, Wile thought, It blew all other posited theories out of the window, it perfectly explained the erratic behavior of the meteor, the negative likelihood of him encountering such a thing to begin with, and... his eyes couldn't be fooled. ASSUMING of course, that it was true.
Wile E. Coyote wanted more than anything to get out of the ring he managed to fly into like an ignoramus - now the want turned into a need, because at this point, another hit would've sent the inward hull of the ship interior splinting off. No more questions, Wile reached down for a side lever he had installed much earlier, and pulled it.
CRANK!
ZING!
The Ship launched a giant sized metallic hook, with a curve on the end, that shot out the length of twenty Football stadium yards to the strange, fast-moving comet. Wile didn't bother with semantics or what made sense or what didn't, no, he didn't bother with it at all. He was AFRAID of dying, just like when he had to "Fight" the Agicalc; so you can imagine how soaked with suns of DELIGHT he was (Hell, he practically SQUEALED a big fat squeal of happiness) when the hook, pointer, and 2 meters worth of extended rope and all, wrapped themselves around the giant comet, and Wile felt the Wolf jerk as it was being tugged squarely away through the fierce meteor storm.
With a long, whipping dash, the ship was now catapulting with opposite motions to the Comet, like the seats of a ferris wheel. A puerile and insignificant way of looking at it, it was a bumpy ride. Wile could feel when the ship banged against multiple large rocks, creating hundreds of dents in the ship, though they were genuinely non-fatal, easily buffered. UP and DOWN, UP and DOWN, bump, bump, BUMP! Wile kept smashing his head up against the ceiling; the gambit of wrapping the hook around the comet was at best the worst risk he'd taken up to date (HA! He'd show them! They don't even know the meaning of the word!). He had NO idea the comet would be this fast, the ride so horrible on his aching bones and gaunt body frame!
The Comet LOOPED up and down in a cycle, than span, and Wile was on the receiving end of the craziest carnival ride where he didn't have the luxury of throwing up. His head felt like it was going to fly off, due to the magnificent drop the ship took, evading a rock the size of which a brain-splatter would look about as noticeable as a fly's splattered remains on it. Shocking pain seized his head for the bitter moments where the ship was being tugged in a straight line, then the monitor went into flat static, and Wile, exhausted to the point of not caring if died, let the tears fall out, he a slave to the whims of an option he chose out of desperation, and peacefully welcomed the reprieve of the settling blackness.
Wile did come to terms with the silence, alarmingly deplorable as it was.
He wondered if this was what death felt like - no pain, no sensation, no tangible form of thought. Nothing seemed to stop him from stepping outside of himself, and speaking as though he were speaking to the dead.
"I'm about as free as any one being can be, but I seem to have reached an unparalleled level of serenity with the bleakness of the situation as it appears- I traveled only so far so that, if I been blessed with the knowledge of what it was that happened to them, I could remain a free man."
"I don't see the ending note that signals the futility of any mortal's struggle of life, the grim reaper. That's odd."
"Come to think of it, maybe all this surmounted to the building stress in my body and that's why what happened happened; I must have fallen comatose. Had I REALLY let it stress me out? Do I not fear enough for my own life?"
"..."
"Impossible! How UTTERLY Impossible."
"I WILL not believe it! I've taken BIGGER risks than these! I will not be undone by such an unsettling and unacceptably puerile manner as dying alone in the depths of space! Even HUNGER shall not claim me! I..." his annoucement flared brighter than fire. "Of all its fancies and fanatical follies I wish to experience, death will be last. NO. The universe will have to expedite the time it should see the last of me."
This epiphany, for whatever reason, caused himself to be aware of how many injuries his body had sustained. His body was in terrible shape, from neck to lower parts. But there was more. He was very serious when he considered the better of two possibilities where he was still very much alive.
"And WHAT of me talking? Maybe from delusion, I'm suffering for it in a heightened conscious-sensitive phenomenon... awareness. An unlimited level of focus and thought. This thought can't exist unless I am still alive."
"... And... and..."
For the real first time in over 60 days of bitter hunger pains, unwarranted nostalgia and recovery of his lost memories, Wile welcomed back the pain. The dark slowly went away. Wile breathed in and out, very slowly, the life-giving confined coldness audibly flowing into his body. He thought he heard noisy birds swarming around his head.
The ship hadn't exploded, the air was breathable, and he could feel the cold of the ship's grimy, and slick metal interior on his bony back. Observation was a real gift; Wile sighed in huge relief, then panicked, because he had no idea how long he'd been knocked out, or what happened in that period. So he scrambled, slipped and fell flat on his face, scrambled up AGAIN, rushed over to the seat, and started flying over the keys to bring up the visual screens.
Wile's mind made astounding impact into wall after wall; how long had he been out? Possibly seconds! MINUTES!... Hours? The ship, was it out of fuel? Damned if he didn't already expect it. His brain rattled, creating strain, and his eyes kept darting up and down from board to screen. If the ship had no fuel, he was stuck; fuel for nightmare, he thought to himself. Stuck in Outer Space, God KNOWS when any thing will come out this way! Okay, no, I'm clearly OVER-THINKING this. I need to calm down. The static is overlapping the screen, it's annoying and I must get it off the screen.
He agreed with himself; he was working overtime just to make himself panic. Best to just leave all the worst-case scenarios behind him and not lose concentration.
How could he help it? The more time passed, the more it felt like he was going nowhere at ALL...
Actually, It didn't feel like he was moving at all. In fact, right as he restored 70% of the small operating systems' visual connection, the thought had just snuck up from behind him that his entire perspective of the ship's interior felt... slanted. Slightly, slightly slanted.
After several minutes of messing with the controls, the holo-projection program Wile designed himself gave a clear indication what exactly he was dealing with. Though the coyote was trembling; he was going to hate it if he'd been stranded on top of large asteroid or something stupid. And he didn't have enough to work with inside to create a spacesuit capable of letting him attempt to alter the situation from outside.
His mouth fell open and it hit the floor; he turned off the screen, and had one long seizure before turning around, heaving the massive mess of discarded dead bug carcasses aside and kicked the two doors open. He did this...
... To get in a massive gulp of fresh air to his worn lungs.
Wile could hardly believe it. He was standing at the top of what was a large cliff, the ship was perched on an edge, possibly would've fallen if he stayed in there any longer. The flat plain of land he was standing on was a fertile dirt and grass spotted landmass that covered by stones and sparse jungle.
Undoing the buttons on his coat, Wile just had to get in the "taste" of the mild humidity, the fresh air, and solid, brown earth. He kissed it, lapped it up on his tongue, then started spitting out the dirt, remembering how stupid that was. Bu t the taste of the earth- it was solid EARTH! And very dusty! Something in his suppressed animal instinct kicked in, causing the coyote to also undo his pants, and roll around in the dirt, panting uncontrollably hard as felt all that wonderful solidness take over. For someone as gentlemanly, polite, and cultured as he was, this was step down to crazy.
But all he could think of at that moment was the ECSTATIC feeling of freedom from being confined in a tiny space craft, 60 Days worth of suppressed happiness, haunting memories, and starvation, all gone. He made it, he realized, revelling in the amazing sight of the BLUE skies, solid brown earth, and his half-naked form wildly rolling in the dirt like a happy pup.
Earth, earth, GLORIOUS SOLID DIRT, My LONG trip back to EARTH is FINALLY...
The bliss that came with this particular thought and Wile's frantic and somewhat "Doggy" actions were cut short when a spear got shoved right in front of his face. He grit his teeth in dumb surprise.
"Uh-oh."