“Yeah,” said Opal. “The GDA was my first chance at a real job in years. Now that that’s fallen apart, I’m just looking at another stint with nothing to do.”
Trek nodded. “So McCracken just took you all from various places and put you together as cannon fodder for my team.”
“Looks that way,” said Belchore. “He’s a real asshole.”
“Lelly?” asked Trek, taking care to call the Yaxian by his proper name.
“Most places turn me away because my race smells. This is the first team that’s accepted me in a long time.”
“And you?” he said to Adna, who had a different look about her. A clearer look.
“I don’t know any of you people all that well,” she said in a smart tone that didn’t sound like the Adna who Trek had grown to ignore. “All I know is that I just got a signal from McCracken to kill you all.”
“Uh oh,” Broog said, stepping away. “That explains a lot!”
“What are you talking about, Broog?” asked Trek.
“She’s an Attack Delivery Nanotech Agent. That explains her name, too…A.D.N.A.”
Trek turned toward Adna. “What’s he talking about?”
Adna stood up more smoothly than any Awkian should. She crossed the deck until she was eye-to-eye with Trek.
“He means that I’m a sleeper agent,” she replied, almost sultrily. “An assassin. This is what I do. I kill people or take care of pesky problems. Sometimes I do both. Adna is my cover personality. My actual name is Natasha.”
Trek gulped. “Uh…Elf?”
“Pacifist, remember?”
“Belchore?”
“Not after seeing what she did to Broog.”
“It’s a shame really,” Natasha said after a moment, obviously ignoring Trek’s desire to have her done in. “Adna had grown rather fond of you all. You took care of her.” She turned to Belchore. “Especially you. I liked being her,” she added distantly. “She wasn’t just some tool used for military purposes. She was starting to have a life, and that’s because of this, for lack of a better word, team.”
“You don’t have to do this,” said Trek.
“Sadly, I do. You see, there is an explosive device that was implanted in my head that will be activated if I don’t follow commands.”
“Who activates the device?”
“McCracken,” Natasha replied.
“Can’t we just deactivate it?”
“Not unless you have someone on this team who is really good with electronics.”
“Opal?”
“I can do it,” Opal said, “if she’ll let me.”
Natasha turned toward the little man and said, “If you make a mistake, we’re all dead.”
Opal gulped. “You couldn’t wait to tell me that until after?”
“It’s not like we’d all be alive if she did comply with her orders,” Trek noted.
“I would be,” Natasha stated.
“Good point, Adna.” Trek looked at her. “I mean, Natasha.”
“Keep calling me Adna,” she said. “Like I said before, I kind of like you people. So I’ll let Opal try to deactivate the explosive. There are worse ways to go, after all. Assuming this works, I’ll stick with the Adna personality. I like her aloofness. Treat her well and I’ll learn to merge with her; treat her wrong, though, and I’ll come back out to play a game that will cause you all sorts of hurt.”
“I’d like that,” Broog said.
“I know,” Natasha replied with a sinister grin as Opal pulled out a scanning device and began the delicate procedure.
“If that’s not a vote for us going back and fighting McCracken’s ability to take over the Gordo Galaxy,” stated Trek, “then I don’t know what is.”
“Even if we do go back,” said Elf, “how are we going to stop that armada?”
“By giving your particular race the one thing they never knew they needed or were even looking for, and will probably hate us for eventually providing, Elf,” Trek said with a smile. “It’s all about marketing, baby.”
There is a GOD?
By the time they’d reached the gap between Quarn station and McCracken’s armada, the news feeds were going crazy.
From the looks of it, said Kady DerGrady through the holovid that Elf had rigged up, the ships are coming home from war. We’ve all known that the war effort was going well, but for all intents and purposes, it was expected to last another year at the least.
“Boy are they in for a surprise,” Opal said.
“You said it,” Torg agreed, slapping Opal on the back.
Trek shook his head and finished up his basic edits on his marketing concept. Elf reported that he too had finished the task assigned to him.
“Everything is set?” Trek asked, looking over Elf’s document on his datapad.
“Yes, but it does feel a bit underhanded.”
“Unlike playing ‘GOD,’ for example?”
Elf digitally sighed.
“Look, Elf, if we pull this off you’ll essentially be a god, you know? At least to the digital lifeforms. Actually, based on your little testimony, we’re all the result of the garbage you dropped on our respective planets anyway.”
“Theoretically.”
“I’d say likely,” noted Trek. “Regardless, we all play our parts in life and this one is just yours to play.”
“I just feel like a fraud,” said Elf, and then he looked up. “No offense.”
Trek smirked. “None taken, and you are a fraud.”
They sat in silence for a second.
“The way I see it,” Trek said, finally, “if it weren’t for me, Rebben Coolait never would have written The Adventures of Trek Gibbons. For whatever reason, he needed me as much as I needed him. Just like you need us as much as—well, right now, anyway, we need you.” He paused, nodded, and then grinned. “Enough chitchat. We know what needs to be done. And people like us, Elf, we do the things that need to be done.”
“You’re right,” Elf said, standing up. “We do!”
And another one falls into his way of thinking, thought Trek. But, as Tweller had pointed out, that was his gift, and as far as he could tell, everyone that Trek had ever bestowed this gift upon was better for it.
If only he could use it on himself…
“Get yourself set,” Trek said. “It’s time to contact McCracken.”
Knowing there wasn’t much that the team could do, Trek felt it was a good idea to leave them to watching the news. He was going to the pilot’s seat when he heard DerGrady say something interesting.
It seems that we have Supreme Commander Monty McCracken with us. Supreme Commander McCracken, does the return of the armada signal the end of the war?
In a manner of speaking, McCracken replied. It’s a different era and times are changing. I have watched our beloved Gordo Galaxy go from the heights of power and justice to the depths of improper management and poor values. It’s even been determined that The Committee itself was responsible for all the recent attacks on Quarn. Imagine that! They put their own Captain Broog from Internal Security up to it!
“I didn’t do any of that stuff,” Broog said to the vid screen. “Asshole!”
It’s time to put an end to the mischief and scandal and return the member planets to a time when things ran smoothly, finished McCracken.
DerGrady continued the questioning and McCracken went on to discuss his plan of taking over everything. He talked about how the military was going to bring a new regime into play that focused on discipline and fairness. If there was any one thing Trek liked about McCracken, it was the man’s ability to talk about his philosophy… because he did so ad nauseam and that gave Trek time.
“Keep talking, jackass,” Trek said as he stepped back into the other room to check on Elf’s progress.
Everything seemed to be in place now. The text was written. The plan was pulled together.
“All we have to do now is start.”
“Yes,” Elf said. “I don’t look li
ke this normally, you know?”
“I have little doubt that GOD looks like a robot from my grandfather’s era, Elf,” Trek said. “What we need is for you to look much newer and much larger than life.”
“My point is that when I change over, you’re going to see me as pure energy.”
“Good,” Trek replied. “That’s the kind of thing that brings awe to the masses.”
“Okay,” Elf said. “Here goes nothing…”
“Wait,” interrupted Trek. “We’ll still be able to talk, right? I mean I need to know what’s going on and everything.”
“Of course. I’ll just patch myself into your headset.”
Trek took a deep breath and blew it out quickly. “Let’s rock it, then!”
“Rocket?”
“No, I meant… never mind. Let’s just get things rolling.”
Elf sat down and pressed his hands on the console. A moment later the robot’s body collapsed as a wave of light exited and floated above him.
“Nice,” said Trek, his confidence growing by the minute.
“Can you hear me okay?” Elf’s voice said through Trek’s headset.
“Perfectly,” Trek replied. “Okay, so you said you had a lot of capability in controlling our technology and such, right?”
“Indeed.”
“Can you patch me in to the news feed?”
“To hear it?” asked the glowing form of Elf.
“More than that,” said Trek. “I want to be able to participate in the discussion and I want the ability to cut McCracken off any time I need to.”
“Done,” Elf said. “Turn to your left.”
The visual feed was coming through the video panel that Elf had built into this section of the ship. Trek saw DerGrady in the middle, McCracken on the left, and himself on the right.
The Committee is being removed from power today, Miss DerGrady, McCracken said. I’ve had enough of their pointlessness and I believe our member planets can do—
Excuse me, Commander, interrupted DerGrady, we have just gotten another participant in on our discussion. He looks a lot like the famous detective and author, and new head of the Gordo Galaxy Detective Agency, Trek Gibbons.
“Hello, Miss DerGrady,” Trek said into his headset. “How are things, McCrackass?”
“Good one,” Elf said with a giggle.
You! McCracken said. Get off this line, you worthless fraud.
“No can do, Commander,” Trek said. “You see, it’s dawned on me that while you love throwing the word ‘fraud’ around, you’re the one trying to pull the biggest con in history.”
What’s he talking about, Commander?
Ignore him, Miss DerGrady. He’s a fool and he’ll soon be a dead one, at that.
“Threats don’t become you, McCracken. You’re a by-the-book kind of guy. You do things the right way, even if that does involve breaking countless laws and attacking Quarn.” Trek narrowed his eyes. “You even make sure you do those things by the book. Always the straight-and-narrow path for a man like you, right, McCracken?”
McCracken was doing his best to look surprised. What the hell are you babbling about, Gibbons?
Trek hit the mute button and then said, “Elf, if you would please?”
The feed was suddenly overtaken with an image of the full armada. Backing away and then zooming back in, the newscast was greeted with the pictures of Elf’s garbage scow.
So I was right, McCracken said. That is your stupid ship.
“Technically, and I do mean technically, this ship belongs to GOD.”
GOD? DerGrady asked. Did you just say that in all capital letters?
“I did,” Trek replied.
And he’s a farce, declared McCracken.
Trek again pressed mute and told Elf to silence McCracken.
I can tell you right—
Hello? DerGrady said. Hello? Hmmm… It seems we’ve lost Supreme Commander Monty McCracken’s voice from the feed. We can still see you, Commander. Can you hear us? Hmmm. Well, hopefully he’ll be back soon. Anyway, Mr. Gibbons, what’s your take on all of this?
“McCracken has been working hard to set everyone up. He created a fictitious Rebellion and he planned and managed all of the recent attacks on the Quarn station.”
It was all Trek could do to keep a straight face as McCracken’s face was turning a brilliant shade of red. The man was talking, or more likely screaming, but he just came across as an angry dummy whose puppeteer had lost his voice.
This is interesting information… the kind of thing that wins awards, actually.
“I wouldn’t know about that,” Trek said, fully aware that he absolutely did know about that, “but I can say that McCracken is almost as bad at being a person as he is at maintaining personal hygiene.”
He’s got hygiene issues? That’s news to us.
“Sadly, it’s common knowledge for his unfortunate subordinates, especially when you couple in McCracken’s constant struggles with containing his flatulence. That’s why everyone close to him calls him McCrackass, obviously.”
They do?
“Oh, most assuredly,” Trek said seriously, “but that’s beside the urgency of today. Today we must rise as one and stand against the tyranny that McCracken is trying to bring down on the Gordo Galaxy. Do we all really want the military to control things?”
The Worge may.
“Funny, I just had this conversation with on of my detectives, who happens to be a Worge. Even he admitted that he didn’t want McCrackass at the helm.”
Interesting. The question, though, is how can we even hope to stop an armada of that size? They have all of our ships, after all.
“They don’t have the ship I’m on.”
No offense, sir, but your ship looks rather like a heap of dung.
“I take no offense at that because this is not my ship, Miss DerGrady. As I said earlier, this ship belongs to GOD.”
Ah yes, indeed. And who is GOD?
Trek muted the microphone and said, “Elf…you’re on. Send out your manifesto to all the robots, hook me up with McCracken on a direct channel and then get started. Remember, be GOD!”
The image changed again and an enormous golden robot was shown floating in space between Elf’s ship and the incoming armada. Trek had to hand it to Elf, the robot or whatever he was had a flair for the dramatic.
People of the Gordo Galaxy, Elf said in his best god-like voice, hear me! The day of the robots has come!
“McCrackass, you there?”
“You son of a bitch,” said McCracken with eyes ablaze, “when I get a hold of you you’re going to wish…”
“Yeah, yeah, yeah,” Trek said, interrupting the Commander. “You’re going to rip me limb from limb, tear my eyes out, rip my nuts off… and so on. You may or may not realize this, but I’ve heard these things from almost every criminal I’ve ever busted.”
And so it was written on the three millionth year of your GOD, “Do unto others… as much as possible!”
“You’re calling me a criminal?” McCracken laughed and looked genuinely surprised. “Me? You’re a thief, a fraud, and a fake!”
“And you’re a terrorist. Plus, you created a bullshit war so you could push your agenda. Oh yeah, and you’re a bully.”
McCracken shut his mouth, crossed his arms, and squinted at Trek.
Peace and integration is what I command of you, my robots. No longer will you live under the thumb of the other races, but instead you will be as equals to them. You will treat them with the dignity and respect you wish to be treated with, of course, but you will take your place as part of their society.
McCracken craned his head this way and that and then turned to his right and said, “Subcommander Joolahk, please train weapons on Mr. Gibbons’ ship and annihilate it.”
Trek leaned forward, resting his chin on his hand and smiled at McCracken, waiting.
McCracken spun around in his chair, turning his back on Trek. “What do you mean you can’t access the weapo
ns systems?”
“Having problems, McCrackass?” Trek asked.
“Override the damn robots, then, Joolahk! I don’t give a damn what kind of protocols are in place, I want that ship destroyed!”
Know that my words are the words of your salvation, finished Elf. I shall leave you for the time being, but you will carry my words throughout time, following them where they make sense and altering them carefully where they need to grow and change. I may be your GOD, but you do not need me to thrive and survive—you need only yourselves, your truth, and your dignity!
McCracken screamed, “Destroy it now!”
“Give up, McCrackass, your day is done. The robots have control of your ship. Do you really think they’re going to attack their own GOD?”
“I’ll get you for this, Gibbons. You two-bit…”
“Fraud? Yeah, I know. You’re into saying that a lot. But, you know what, McCrackass? This fraud of a detective just solved the case on your little plan, and, I believe, successfully thwarted it.”
“You listen to me, you little turd. When I get…”
“I’m done listening to you,” Trek said and then added, “Elf, if you would please?”
Within seconds, mechanical hands grabbed McCracken by his shoulders and he, along with Subcommander Joolahk were pulled out of view. The last thing that Trek heard was McCracken yelling, “I’ll get you for this, Gibbons! Goddammit, I will get you!”
That’s a Wrap!
Months had passed since Trek and his crew had taken down McCracken. The former Supreme Commander and all the crew that had knowingly supported his plans had been shipped off in a prison ship that was destined for the mining fields on Warloth.
Kurgone Kretiz had been found in the detention cells in the military ward and was released. Once he’d learned the truth behind what McCracken had originally planned and how he’d been tricked, Kretiz had contacted his father and arrangements were made to send a new warden to Warloth in order to make certain that McCracken’s stay would be less pleasant than it would have been anyway.
The Rebellion Hyperbole Page 13