A/N: I finally got another chapter out, just as school's startin'. But, since school's startin' again, there's no telling when the next chapter will be up. Thanks for your patience, everybody, both with this installment and future chapters as well.
Chapter 7: Revelation and Earfishes
To make a long story short—something that, at this point, this particular story could especially use—Lorz and Joey found the storage room bare of all life. "Rachel? Chandler?" Joey called out into the emptiness. He walked between the shelves.
"These back rooms are off-limits, you know," Lorz remarked. "How did you get the door unlocked?"
"Hey now!" the door interjected. "Don't blame the door! It's my pleasure to open for all authorized personnel!"
"And this guy and his friends weren't authorized personnel," Lorz explained.
Joey looked around the door, trying to find where the voice was coming from. "He's not blaming you."
"I just figured that since only authorized personnel have access to my room, and you were inside the room…"
"I see."
"Wait. So you're saying that this guy's not authorized?"
"No, not at all." Lorz shook his head. "I mean, like you said, he got inside, right?"
"Well, you're not cleared." The door wished it had a face, so that it could smirk. It never told anyone, but it secretly preferred the keeping-people-out part of its job to the letting-people-in. Not that they weren't both exceedingly pleasant activities.
"It's okay," Joey said quickly, "he's with me."
He rubbed his hands together. The air in the storeroom had that snappish, quasi-solid quality that air takes on in rooms designed for the sole purpose of keeping things in them. Dry and lukewarm.
"I'm not seeing anyone," Lorz observed, peering among the shelves.
"Man! First the gate disappears, now my friends!"
"Hey, now. One second." Lorz turned to address the door. "Did anyone else come through here recently? Anyone leave?"
"That information requires a security clearance," the door said, with the smugness of any organic security guard. The fact of the matter is that anything with a personality derives some pleasure from being an impediment to non-permitted behavior, and since door personalities are designed based on life-form personalities…
"I'm cleared," said Joey.
"Okay, what's your clearance code?"
"Uh…" Joey quickly decided to just fudge it. "Six-seven-eight-two-zero-zero, um, three-two-AB-six."
"All right then, let's see. I remember twenty-three minutes ago, a six-man patrol squad came in, equipped with proton power armor and Kill-o-Zap rifles, and exited with your authorized friends."
Holy crap! What are the odds?
The Hitchhiker's Guide notes that the Babel Fish, in translating unfamiliar articulatory vocalizations into their corresponding yet arbitrary meanings, also converts units of measurement (for example, non-galactic-standard time increments such as minutes) and certain simple idioms. The Guide further notes that the wonder-fish does not translate non-verbal communication, and warns that some noises may be misinterpreted. This can be particularly disastrous on the planet Larwahl, whose inhabitants' vocal cord muscles can release approximately ten hundred million kilojoules of stored potential energy at once, so that throat-clearing is an offense punishable by death.
The door had paused, as if trying very hard to put two and two together. "Are you sure they're authorized?"
"Oh yeah," Joey replied. "Yep. Couldn't be more authorized if the, uh, President of the Galaxy himself had authorized them."
"All right then. Is there any more information you'd like from the records, Commander Wozog?"
"No, I think we're fine." Joey turned to Lorz. They shared a look.
"We'll go check with Security and see if they've found the other two," Lorz determined. The door slid open as he and Joey exited the room, expressing its gratitude for their passage through.
By habit, Ross' feet knew the way out of his apartment and down to the coffeeshop. This freed his mind up to think about why he was going there.
Monica had called him, telling him to meet her and Phoebe. She had asked if he had seen Chandler, who apparently wasn't around. But she hadn't said anything about Rachel or Joey, which was odd. Weren't they going to meet with everyone, too?
Ross checked himself. Of course Monica hadn't mentioned them; she was probably just going to stop across the hall to let them know. If they had also been missing, she would have mentioned it with Chandler's disappearance.
And given Monica's propensity for worrying too much, that in itself likely wasn't a dilemma either. He wondered if she had remembered to try Chandler's cell phone. Even if she had, her husband might have simply gone to the gym and left it in his bag.
But despite his mind's reasonings, Ross still couldn't help but think that something seemed out of place. It was like hearing findings of euhelopodid remains at a Patagonia site.
When he walked in the door to Central Perk, Phoebe and Monica were already there, on the couch. They both looked up.
"We can't find Chandler," Phoebe said seriously.
"You've both been looking?"
"Well, she has," Phoebe admitted. "I only just heard about it. But I didn't find him on the way over, and believe me, I looked!"
Kind of hard to find what you don't know is lost, Ross thought, sitting down.
"He's not at the office," Monica reported, "and when I dial his cell phone, it doesn't even ring. No dial tone, no 'the number you have dialed is not in service,' nothing. Rachel and Joey aren't at home either—but I called Rachel's cell and found out that she'd left it in her apartment. Which, by the way, they had left unlocked. So I took a spare key and locked it for them, and taped a note to the door telling them that they could come see me if they needed letting in."
"So the three of them are missing?" Ross asked incredulously. "Where did you look?"
"I've called the gym twice to see if he's there, and he's not. He hasn't been in the apartment since I came home."
"And Gunther says he hasn't seen any of them down here since this morning," Phoebe jumped in. "Look! I made a helpful contribution!" She glared at Ross. "More than I can say for you."
Ross let it slide. "Do you think Rachel had a contraction," (at the word "contraction," something began stirring in his mind, like the subconscious birth of an idea, but the subconscious kept the idea to itself and he remained unaware) "and they took her to the hospital?" (and there again on the word "hospital:" but all Ross was aware of was a slight concern for his friends, especially the one carrying his baby.)
"Oh my God," said Phoebe.
"Why didn't I think of that?" Monica said, smacking her own forehead.
Ross shook his head. "No, they would have let us know if it'd been something serious like that." He laughed. "I don't even know why I brought it up!"
"You really think they're all right, wherever they are?" Monica asked.
"I'm sure they'll turn up in no time," Ross said, in his Confident Man voice. "They probably just went to see a movie or something."
"You're using the Confident Man voice!" Phoebe exclaimed, putting a hand to her mouth.
"And this makes me wrong?" said Ross, and laughed again.
"Are these your friends?" the security officer asked, as they walked into the office's waiting room. Apart from the beings waiting in it, the room bore a resemblance to Earth's waiting rooms, complete with secretary's desk, magazines on a knee-high table, a fish tank, and leafy frondy plants. In fact, the degree of its normality was downright bizarre.
"Guys!" Joey exclaimed.
"Joey!"
"Joey!"
Chandler and Rachel got up as quickly as Rachel's condition would allow, to give Joey a quick hug. "Geez, you guys had me freaking out!" Joey told his friends. "What happened?"
"We're not one-hundred-percent sure," Rachel said. "Not speaking their language and all."
"A bunch of the…staff…here came into the storage room," Chandler continued the explanation, "armed with enough heavy firepower to subdue a military installation, and led us out. We only just got here. I'm not sure what they're planning to do with us, but at least we're not behind those red-energy laser bars that'll cut off your hand if you try to escape."
"They have those?" Joey said excitedly.
"I'm just guessing." Chandler shrugged.
"Oh, they do," Lorz interjected, but to Chandler and Rachel it sounded like he was impersonating a chainsaw caught in a can opener.
"What's he saying?" Rachel asked.
"You know," the security officer said, "we should really fix that."
He walked over to the fishtank, pulled out one of the tiny yellow fishes swimming around in it, and showed it to Chandler, pointing to the fish and his own ear. Chandler shrugged, held out his hand, accepted the fish, and inserted it into his auricular canal.
The tiny fish slipped easily into Chandler's ear. The alien spoke, and he comprehended its words perfectly: "That will be sixty Altairian dollars, please."
"What?" Joey cut in, indignant. "You mean it costs money? No complimentary earfishes for the earthlings? I got mine for free!"
"You don't have sixty Altairian dollars, do you?"
"I do," said Lorz, who was proving to be an extremely helpful plot device...er, I mean, individual.
The security officer went to the tank and pulled out a second fish. He offered it to Rachel, but she promptly began backing away, almost tripping over the table with the magazines strewn all over it.
"N-No," Rachel faltered, "I am not p-putting a fish in my ear. No fishes."
The security guard made insisting gestures, and when these proved futile, suggested to Chandler and Joey that they try to convince her.
"Rachel," Joey tried, "These things are seriously helpful! You shouldn't refuse one!"
"Ihaveeveryrighttorefuse!" Rachel spat agitatedly, fists clenched at her sides.
"Maybe it's better to be cautious," Chandler offered. "There's no telling what effect the alien biology could have on her pregnancy."
"That's right! Alien biology! There's no telling!"
"Rachel," Joey reassured her, "no one's gonna make you get earfishes."
"Sir, a report from the reported entry site!"
The security guy, Chandler, Joey, and Lorz all turned to see the underling who had spoken. Rachel, given her aversion to Babel fishes, had remained in the office under the supervision of the secretary, while the other two relocated to tell the security officer what they could about the gate, etc. They were now in the operations room of the arrivals/departures department, where records had confirmed the departure of one (1) Wowbagger the Infinitely Prolonged from gate 9-Zeta 31.
And now, the underling was reporting on his findings.
"Our readings detected traces of impossibility at the portal's previous location. Levels were just high enough to account for any inconsistencies between this fanfic and 'Friends' or the HHGTTG series."
"Impossibility traces," mused the security officer. "And from a Perfectly Normal Universe, no less…"
It had been established that, in all likelihood, the three friends hailed from a Perfectly Normal Universe. The Hitchhiker's Guide, on the topic of Perfectly Normal Universes, has the following to say:
Scientifically, the definition of a Perfectly Normal Universe is one whose normality index is 100: absolute normality. But even before you take your normality readings, you'll be able to tell whether you're in a PNU by obvious signs.
First of all, nothing especially exciting happens in a PNU, which simply lacks the improbable technology to cause anything especially radical to happen. The inhabitants' idea of a groundbreaking development is along the lines of putting a man on the moon. However, in a PNU, this is pretty much a futile action, because secondly, a PNU necessarily has one standard life-inhabited planet and one sentient (though generally primitive) species.
Due to their absolute normality, PNU's can be extremely easy to get stranded in—for instance, one's Improbability-Powered Dimensional Jump-Drive breaking down. In such cases, one will find the locals helpful but skeptical. If one remains stranded for prolonged periods of time, one may likely be able to use one's "wacky exploits" as inspiration for a televised situation comedy series.
The Guide's entry includes cross-references to entries on mostly harmless planets, the Whole Sort of General Mish-Mash, and repairing and jury-rigging a Dimensional Jump-Drive using nothing but post-industrial materials.
But the underling, also, had something to add to his report.
"Appearance of a portal to an alternate reality in a Perfectly Normal Universe is, of course, impossible—that is, infinitely improbable." He looked back over his readings. "And there is only one known source of sufficient impossibility, outside of afternoon talk shows, to generate such a result."
The security officer zipped over to the side of one of the flight departure coordinators, sitting at a computer console. "Quick, search today's departure log for the Heart of Gold." The coordinator's fingers tapped across the keyboard.
"The Heart of Gold?" Chandler asked.
"The only ship in the known universe equipped with an Infinite Improbability Drive," Lorz explained. "The improbability drive is strong enough to rip a hole in Normality with the residual unlikelihood."
The technician's keyboard-tapping stopped. "Records confirm the departure of the Heart of Gold from Bay 3-Beta 57 at 3:35 PM GST," she reported. "That's slightly over an hour and a half ago."
"Chandler, there's our chance!" Joey said. "We've gotta follow that ship!"
"Fine, just let me strap on my rocket boots," Chandler quipped. "It's a good thing I had my body structure modified to withstand the vacuum of space."
"Wait, didn't you say you had a starship?" Joey asked Lorz.
"Right. The starship Luigi's. You guys need a ride?"
"Yeah," chorused the two guys stranded in an alternate reality, "absolutely."
The group thanked the security officer for his help and left to go get Rachel.