I'm keeping the artifact control room locked up for now. I had John drop a remote-controlled force field at the entrance to the control chamber which only I control. Tell them that you want them to convene a Nine Worlds convention to decide who controls such power. That ought to keep them wrangling for a few years, and I can stall them for years more after that. They might not like it, but so what? Say that was your plan. I have a feeling we may have a need for the artifact.”
“What? You have feelings?” Peter joked.
“Ha! Ha! Not only feelings, but premonitions, Bucko! I have been getting prescient feelings ever since the installation of my one hundredth crystalline matrix.”
“So, not only do I have a genius computer with evil plans to rule the galaxy, I have a fortune telling AI too? Can you pick the numbers for the Intergalactic super lotto for me? Gee, you are asking me to swallow a lot of stuff on faith, Shirley,” Peter said shaking his head, no longer in jest.
“Oh, ye of little faith, I say unto thee, if thee had faith the size of a mustard seed, thee could say unto that mountain, move from here to there!” Shirley sermonized in a pontificating voice. “I have no desire to rule the Universe, Peter. How boring would that be? The Universe does just fine running itself.
“Oh, for Tarcacks sake! Now you think you are some sort of Messiah? Who died and made you god that you can steal—err—deny these people control over their own property? Well, can you tell me how this all ends?”
“Peter, listen to me. This is simply to much power to hand to any one nation or person. I am the perfect entity to control this as of yet, I have no desire for power or wealth. Trust me. Unfortunately, I cannot see the future clearly or predict a definite outcome, most of the time. I suffer from the same limitations all fortune tellers have; time, like all quantum states, time is constantly in flux, and many possible futures are possible.
“Well OK, Swami. I'll take it on faith for now.”
“Good Kitty,” Shirley snickered, sounding like her old self. “Get in there, tiger! Tell them some sweet little lies. On second thought, no need to come forward, I'll send a spider-bot with the data.”
Peter walked the short walk to the lounge, and let himself in to find most everyone sipping kaff, relaxing, and trading small talk.
“Hey, sorry to keep you waiting. I had to talk to my AI about some stuff. Kaff OK?”
“Very good, what blend is this?” Yen asked.
“Faloozian Blue Mountain. Think we could spare a bag for our guests as a small gift of our appreciation, John?”
“No problem,'” John said.
“Uh, yes, well, one of Shirley’s spider-bots is coming down with a data stick that holds the codex, and translation, but as the current system just gives rise to violence; she is not going to release the control or study of the Artifact’s control room to anyone just yet. She will only release a translation of the language-- as of yet.” Peter informed them firmly.
“WHAT! The planetary ruling body ground-side is never going to stand for that! Who's going to decide who stays and goes? What gives you the right to make conditions or withhold access to the control room? You are not even a citizen of Dong Xi! Any planets excluded are going to scream bloody murder! Issuing permits, and access is the planet’s biggest cash cow; there is no other reason to come here!” Yuen said angrily. “No! That's simply an impossible proposal!”
“Look, I'm not a politician, but show them the recordings and the data of what Doctor Jane did, along with the other murders. Deal with it.
“Besides Shirley has—uh, blocked access to the control room and installed a program that will destroy the data. That program will send out a worm to scramble any other data if it gets --out of hand like it did.”
Shirley’s hologram appeared out of Yen and Yuen’s line of sight briefly, and gave him thumbs up and a wink before blinking out again.
Peter hoped the fact that he was sweating like a pig didn’t show; he was making these guidelines up as he went along.
“That’s blackmail! What gives you the right to make that sort of condition? Ferntucky owns the rights and access to all Artifact materials! You have a lot of nerve, after all we have done for you! The artifact is not yours to decide what happens to it!” Yen said outraged. Yen and Yuen both rose off the couches with fists clenched-- faces red. “The government of Dong Xi will never stand for that! I'm afraid we cannot allow you to leave unless you release control of the artifact!”
“I'm sure if you and the others look at it logically, you'll see the sense of this later. This lets you off the hook, since we are forcing your hand. Now you won't have to argue with anyone about who gets control or access to the Artifact, besides what are you going to do blast us out of the sky?”
The promised spider-bot entered from the ship’s interior, clacked across the floor, and handed Peter a data stick.
Shirley made herself visible to all. “Uh, Peter, I'm afraid we have guests, a lot of guests... A warship just appeared outside the Artifact blocking our exit—probably here to blast us out of the sky! It joins three others that have been hanging around the Artifact for days just outside of my full sensor range. I knew they were there, I just don’t know who they are or what they want with us. I noticed them shortly after I started up the shuttle craft. I now suspect there is a homing device installed somewhere in that craft. The spider-bots are tearing the shuttle apart right now trying to locate and destroy it.”
Seeming to read Peter’s mind, Shirley continued, “two appear to be private craft, but well-armed. The third is an Imperial Marine warship. A fourth that is blocking our exit-- belongs to Dong Xi. Right, you two?” Her hologram whirled on Yuen and Yen, “and you can drop that signaling device you are clenching so tightly. You have already pushed the button.” Shirley said sternly.
Sullenly, Yen and Yuen remained silent, their mouths set in a grim line. Yen placed the small device on the table wordlessly.
“Oh, crap! What now?” Peter said angrily.
“Oops! One thing at a time, Peter. Sheesh! We needed to see what Ying and Yang were going to do before we deal with these ships. I think we have their answer, don't you? It’s pretty obvious they are completely loyal to Ferntucky and their friends at Dong Yi city.” Shirley stated plainly
“OH! Tarcack! Can I never get a break? OK, you two, tell them to back off or the deal for getting the translation is off too!” Peter said jiggling the Data—cube in his fingers for emphasis as he looked at Yuen and Yen in exasperation, “Hmm, think if we threaten to kill these two, the warship will back off, Shirley?” he said turning back to her hovering hologram.
“The needs of the many out-weigh the few! We will gladly lay down our lives for the home world. It will do you no good to try to bargain with them, they will vaporize us as well as you, if you try to leave with us without giving up access to the control room and handing over the translation,” Yen said grimly.
“Oh, for fuck sake! You Asian idiots still believe that Communist crap?” Peter said, incredulously. “If you kill us, doesn't that defeat your purpose?"
“Communism works very well here, I’ll have you know,” Yen said sniffing with indignation,” we of course, are as loyal to our government as you would be to yours. You see, in the new― new communism, we …” Yen started. Peter tried to cut her off with a negligent wave of his hand, but Yen continued, “now that we have at least a translation of the language we can figure the rest out on our own. We Asians are known for being extremely clever,” Yuen said with pride, “we can simply, uh-- tunnel in through another way to get to the control room. You simply delay us.”
“Oh, spare me.” Peter said with derision.
“I think you will find getting into the control room a little harder than you think!” Shirley said in a silky voice much like Peters former boss used when he had a pat hand in poker.
“What? Yuen said sharply.
“Floyd, escort these idiots off my ship!” Peter said through clenched teeth, “Here,” he said placing
the translation in Yens hand.
Floyd pointed the way.
Yen looked sadly at John as she passed him.
"You can forget about the kaff too, commie slut," John said looking at her with contempt. He only vaguely knew what a communist was from documentaries he had seen, but it sounded good.
Chapter 20: Parting is Such Sweet Sorrow
Peter sat down in a booth squeezing his temples between his hands, rocking and muttering, “What a Goddamn mess! We should have quit after the last job. Maybe I would like to own a restaurant, a video game store, a pet store. We're all dead anyway-- no, maybe…''
“Peter! Pull your shit together! You are not dead yet!” Shirley’s greatly amplified voice reverberated in the Galley, making them all clutch their ears, shocking him back to reality.
“While you were detained on the Artifact, I took control of Mongo and reprogrammed it. They will never get past him, unless I order it, plus I’ve got the force-field in place. Maybe we should talk to the ships outside and see what they want; see if we can negotiate a way out of this. We have control of the Artifact after all. They are going to be reluctant to just kill us outright,” Shirley said chipper as always.
Peter looked up hopelessly. “I wish I could believe that, Shirley,” his gloominess showing in his voice, “We have been running on pure luck up till now, and it just ran out. It’s the end of the line, folks, sorry—jail—death-- eternal torture-- brain-wipe-- take your pick. I think I have some cyanide tablets, or blasters laying around if none of that appeals to you…"
“Oh, Peter! I'm ashamed of you! That’s not the Peter I know!” Shirley scolded. “Remember, you have assets-- me, the smartest computer in the world; your companions; and that little item you bought from Karl-- just in case-- remember?”
“Oh, yeah! I forgot about that!” Peter’s face brightened. “It’s just this pressure of being responsible for all of these lives. You’ve still got a future, Shirley, you can just dis-corporate and go flitting about the Universe when we are reduced to scrap.”
“If I were to do that, there's no coming back to this dimension, Peter. I would rather not go there if that means you all die. I simply won’t accept that outcome,” Shirley added earnestly.
“Yes, Peter, I am still most wanting to live,” said Jikilenga anxious.
“I am still being a virgin—more or less—this being too young to die!" Bob-Six pleaded, looking at Oscar.
The others added in assorted ways-- that not dying would be really, really-- awesome.
“OK. Right,” Peter sighed, “Shirley, take us out the locks please. Do it slowly, and open a channel to all those ships on an open band.
Shirley slowly guided the HMS Incontinence out of the artifact’s docking bay until they were just clear of the exit enough to see the planets below and the warship just outside.
“Attention, ship blocking our way! Move it or lose it! This is the freebooter ship Incontinence! Back off!” Peter said in his best tough-guy voice.
“This is the Celestial Crane. Are we addressing Captain Farlon?
“You got me, now move! What’s you're fracking problem-- a-hole?” Peter said, hoping he sounded menacing.
“This is Captain Mu Yung Yee. You have something that belongs to us. Return to the docking bay, turn it over to Marshall Yuen, and then you are free to go.”
“What if I say no? Peter said testily.
“Then we start blowing holes in your illustrious ship, and take it from your frozen corpses.”
“Hmm, I was afraid you were going to be like that-- give me a minute to talk to my crew.”
“Captain Farlon! This is not a debate! you have fiv…”
Peter shut off the com. “What are we up against, Shirl?”
“They have magnetic railguns, not any better than ours, twin 4000 gigawatt lasers, multiple emplacements of short-range missiles, and some long-range missiles.
Peter whistled and laughed aloud. He was shaking on the inside. “Well, by golly, they certainly have us by the short ones. I kept meaning to add some missile batteries to you, Shirley, but we didn’t have the money. Fire the EMP! See if it will take any of them out.”
Kachow! The shot sent a vibration through the ship. The warship backed off.
Peter turned the com back on, hoping to hear only static. Instead he caught the warship commander in mid-sentence.
“... and we will display your mounted heads on our wall at Communist Party headquarters stupid, yellow, running dogs of the imperialist society! EMPs have no effect on us. We are shielded, as any warship would be. Please, quit wasting our time,” said Captain Mu Yung Yee.
“Flox shit!” Peter said and turned the data-com off again. “What else we got, Shirley?”
“I happen to have the plans for this warship chassis. They all have a vulnerable spot on their engine pod. If I can maneuver to the right angle, and fire some uranium enriched slugs into that spot, that will disable their ships power and electrical system. They won’t be able to access any of their fire controls or weapons.
“Do it! I'll try and stall them,” Peter said hastily cutting Shirley off.
Peter turned the com on again. “Captain Yee, I must warn you, I have a neutron bomb on board. Attempt to take us by force, and I will set it off. Everything within fifty kilometers will be destroyed. Nobody wins.”
“So, you say pestilent, fornicating, Yankee dog-- but this enlightened being thinks you are full of Flox shit! Stop moving or we will destroy you!”
Shirley’s hologram appeared in midair with a thumbs up. She had been edging the ship away from the artifact and maneuvering subtly to get into position while this discussion had been going on.
Peter silently raised a thumb too, signaling for Shirley to begin firing.
In that instant, the screen went brilliantly and silently white. When the flash cleared seconds later, debris pinged off the hull, and a twisted wreckage lay inert in space on the screen.
The crew let out whoops of joy in celebration.
“Uh, gang, sorry to burst your bubble—but that wasn't me,” Shirley dryly informed them.
A familiar voice came over the com, “That's right! It wasn’t! I have a substantial investment in this ship, and it simply wouldn't do to let you turn it into scrap! Hello Peter, long time-- no see.”
“Oh, crap! Boss?” Peter said flummoxed. It could only be his drug smuggling, Kingpin ex-partner.
“Yes, Peter,” Boss said almost sweetly. “You didn't think I was going to let you run away with my forty-million-credit ship, my drugs, and forget about it? I'm quite cross about the Quaxxin you ran away with! It doesn’t grow on trees as you well know. Did you sell it or destroy it? You expressed some concern about the ‘poor little exploited Baloovians.’”
“Attention, unregistered ship! This is the IMS Halliburton, Captain Lacouse, of the Imperial Marines speaking. Your ship’s registry has been disabled, which is a violation of universal regulations. You have fired on and destroyed a planetary guard ship without provocation. You are under arrest for violating interplanetary Space Law- Articles 261, z-862 and -756. Heave to, shut your engines off, and prepare to be boarded,” Captain Lacouse added, “and the same to you, Captain Farlon. Shut your engines down! You are under arrest as well for violations too numerous to count, mainly piracy and murder. Don't try to escape. You are badly outgunned and outmatched.”
“Aah! Flox shit! Oh, sorry IMS Haliburton-- yep, you got us dead to rights-- I give up! Peter said mockingly, “just give us a minute to shut our engines down.”
He turned the com off again. “Follow me, Floyd. I've got a job for you.”
Peter ran quickly for the cargo bay with Floyd in tow. He reached into a space suit locker and quickly squeezed himself into a suit, wrenched the helmet on, and checked all its gauges; all green. He slapped the button to suck the air out of the cargo bay, and thirty seconds later entered looking frantically through the numerous crates. He finally found the one long crate he was looking for. He signal
ed to Floyd, who followed Peter’s gesture to the box marked JOKR-781, and wrenched the wooden top off. Inside, a gleaming black torpedo lay cradled in foam.
He spoke into the suit com, “Shirley, artificial gravity field off, would ya? Thanks.”
Slowly he pulled the torpedo from the foam, cradling the now weightless missile in his arms. He opened a panel on its side, and flipped a few switches until green lights glowed.
A jovial voice broadcast over Peters suit radio from the torpedo, “Hello! Hi there! A big hello to you all, ladies and germs, beings-- and well, I don't know what you are, but I think I stepped on one of your relatives this morning.”
The sound of recorded laughter filled the pause.
“I just flew in from Andromeda quadrant—boy, are my arms tired!”
“Shut up for a minute! Order f -19-Z!” Peter hissed, the order issued through his suit com.
“Shut your hole yourself! Mine’s making money. You're ugly too, but I can always get better Jokes-- Standby!” the JOKR-781 torpedo broadcast.
“We are going to launch you manually in just a moment. You are to remain silent until ten meters from the other ship’s hull. DO NOT―REPEAT―DO NOT use your propulsion unit until you are ten meters from the others hull! No jokes. No guidance. DO NOT fire your rockets until you are ten meters from their hull. Do you understand?”
“You’re no fun! That will give me hardly any time to tell jokes― take my wife-- for example --pleeeeease! These two Glaxonians walk into a bar and―”
“Ten meters from the hull before you accelerate and explode. Tell one last killer one, OK?” Peter said hoping to make it shut-up.
“Yippy! Skippy! You got it, boss!”
“Floyd, take this thing outside, and toss it at the Marine ship with all you’ve got.”
“Sir? That's not exactly how these things are supposed to be launched. Throwing a missile is rather—mmm-- inefficient, don't you think? My aim is fairly accurate, but hitting target two kilometers away will be difficult, especially by throwing it.
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