“Oh, right,” Parfait said with a nod. “Splat.”
“Precisely.”
“I suppose we could get everyone out of their fantasies and then reboot, no?”
“Sadly, no. This isn’t just a single unit, but rather a complete complex of systems that all tie together into one unit. We’d need to kill power or shut down the central core in order to reset everything.”
“Damn.”
“Sorry, sir.”
“Just do what you can please. I’m going to go back out there and get yelled at some more.”
“Again, sorry.”
Parfait adjusted his white robe and took a deep breath.
“It’s okay as long as I’m in a naughty frame of mind.”
“Right.”
SELECTING THE CREW
One of the most challenging aspects of setting up an away mission with androids was getting everyone to agree with who went and who stayed. With normal soldiers, you gave orders, dealt with your second-in-command’s complaints, and then moved out. With androids, and with Harr’s command style, it wasn’t so cut and dry.
“I know that whenever I put together an away mission, everyone gets up in arms about being allowed to go.”
“I don’t,” said Jezden.
“But I’ve made up my mind on this,” Harr continued a moment later, “so let’s just go with the flow this time, please.” He looked around and saw that they were mostly just glaring at him, except Ridly who was busily typing away at her terminal. “Okay, since we’re going to be transporting over to that ship, I’m going to bring Moon and Ridly along.”
Grog’s shoulders dropped.
“Damn,” he said, “I thought certain he was going to bring us along, Vlak.”
“Me, too, Grog. I’m completely shocked.”
“Honethtly, thir,” said Moon, “I’d really rather thtay behind. Thothe thipth are huge.”
“I know how you feel, Hank,” Harr said consolingly, “but we’re soldiers, remember?”
Ridly spun around in her chair. “I don’t mind going, if that’s what you want, but I’d probably be more effective staying on top of the communications hit I made here. If anything goes wrong, I’m the best person to reestablish the feed.”
“Unbelievable,” Harr said.
“I know we’re new to the crew and all, Captain,” Grog pointed out, “but it sure would mean a lot if you brought me and Vlak along instead.”
“It would show that you had faith in us.”
Grog pointed at Vlak. “Yeah, that.”
“Not that I believe in faith in the literal sense of the word,” noted Vlak, “but you know what I’m saying.”
Harr sighed and turned towards the commander.
“What about you, Sandoo,” Harr said, giving his second another chance to voice any new issues that may have arisen since their earlier chat, “have you anything to say on the subject?”
“No, sir. You said that you’d made up your mind.”
“Well, at least there’s one person on this ship that respects me.”
“I think you’re completely wrong, of course,” Sandoo added, “but during our last mission you were very specific about me not telling you that every time.”
“And I thank you for not telling me, Commander,” Harr said with a grunt. “Fine. Grog and Vlak, then.” He threw his hands up in the air. “I honestly don’t know why I even bother to make these decisions”
“Would save a lot of time if you didn’t,” Jezden announced as he turned back towards his monitor and resumed watching the local porn.
Harr studied the two EEHs and shook his head. They would be trouble, for certain. Hell, he’d probably be better off bringing Geezer along than these two. His best choice would be to take Sandoo, but he needed the commander to stay on the Reluctant in the event that something went wrong. By-the-book or not, Sandoo was the most equipped to take over should anything happen to Harr.
“If either of you two get out of hand,” he warned the two newest crewmen, “or if you don’t follow my orders to the letter, I’ll have you launched out into space without a suit.” He paused to let that sink in. “Are we clear?”
“Sure thing, pal,” Grog said with a wince.
“Whatever you say, dude,” Vlak added as if Harr were being a bit of a tool.
One thing was for sure, if these two were going to remain a part of Platoon F, they were going to have to improve the way they responded to their commanding officer. Harr then glanced over at Jezden and felt compelled to admit that the EEHs were at least a step up on him.
“Commander Sandoo, if we return from this little venture, I will expect you to take these two under your wing so that they may learn a bit of protocol.”
“Agreed.”
“Knob,” whispered Grog.
“Tool,” whispered Vlak.
Harr closed his eyes and counted down from ten in order to calm himself. He reopened them and saw that both men were still snickering.
“The moment we get back, commander.”
“Agreed,” said Sandoo.
“Ridly, is there anything that you’ve found that I should be aware of before we leave?” Harr asked after the dust settled. “Anything at all that I can use?”
“There is a king by the name of Raff.”
“Okay.”
“He’s got a second-in-command, a Colonel Clippersmith.”
“Go on.”
“He appears to be plotting to assassinate the king.”
“Wow,” said Harr. “That’s pretty vital, actually. How do you know that?”
“Because he summoned someone named Sergeant Murder to his quarters.”
“Seriously? The guy’s name is Sergeant Murder?”
“Cool name,” Jezden said over his shoulder.
“Thcary,” Moon said over his.
“According to their historical records,” Ridly continued, “anytime the second-in-command summons one of the members of the Murder family, the king typically ends up dead within a day or two.”
Harr looked out at the main ship again.
So they were dealing with a monarchy.
That could prove beneficial indeed.
THAT'S INTERESTING
As Veli was switching back and forth between watching King Raff, Colonel Clippersmith, Captain Shield, and Sergeant Murder, the computer informed him that three of the Platoon F crew had just arrived on The Lord’s Master.
“Well, that’s interesting,” Veli said.
“Shall I notify security on the ship, sir?”
“No. I want to see this play out. What point is there to a fantasy if there’s no drama?”
“As you say, sir,” the computer replied dryly. “Kind of like seeing a movie where you know the end already. I mean, everyone else will be surprised. Just not you.”
Veli moaned. “I said I was sorry.”
“I guess that makes everything better.”
How Harr had gotten on the ship was a mystery, but Veli assumed that he had worked with Frexle to utilize a transporter. Veli hadn’t considered disallowing Frexle’s use of advanced technologies during the mission. Still, he couldn’t help but be impressed with Platoon F’s captain.
“I have to hand it to this Captain Harr fellow,” he said after setting down the bucket of Popped Beef. “He is resourceful.”
“How do you mean, sir?”
Veli pulled up the screen and saw the three dots that represented the crew of Platoon F. He panned out the display and saw that they were in the main uniforms room on the second level of the ship. So he was planning to try subterfuge.
“Well, a more brash man would just have simply landed on the bridge and started a firefight. But not Harr. He’s landed in the uniforms room instead.”
“And?”
“And that means he’s going to dress up like one of the Raffian soldiers,” Veli said as if the point were obvious.
“I’m sorry, sir, but why is that interesting?”
“Because he’s g
oing to try and infiltrate them right under their noses, you wingnut.”
“Oh, I see,” the computer replied, seemingly oblivious to Veli’s tone of voice. “Maybe I should have made the Raffians look like something other than humans?”
“Probably,” Veli answered with a shrug, “but this is fun, so don’t worry about it. Just shush up. I want to watch.”
ANOMALY
Parfait had returned from another verbal lashing and he looked rosy-cheeked. Inkblot couldn’t say whether he was blushing, flushed, or both, but there was little doubt that the Fantasy Planet Head had learned to enjoy the complaints.
As always, Inkblot chose to ignore the telltale signs of her boss’s oddities and instead kept focused on explaining what she had found.
“… and if you look here,” she was saying, “you’ll see that there was a disturbance at the same time that this massive fantasy launched.”
“Is that so?” Parfait said with a faraway look.
“Yes.” Inkblot pointed to a rather large spike in the processor logs. “You can see it right here.”
“Hmmm.”
“You don’t see?”
Parfait shrugged and said, “I see a bunch of zeroes and ones and some funny letters, and I see a graph with some mountainous peaks, but I have no idea what I’m looking at.” He then turned away as if to head back outside. “Regardless, you know and that’s what is important.”
“I’ve also figured out who started the fantasy,” Inkblot yelled out.
This stopped Parfait in his tracks.
“Oh?”
“It’s the owner of Fantasy Planet.”
“Honestly? Why that’s preposterous … and also quite useful.”
Inkblot worried about that. She’d seen Parfait come up with many schemes and plans over her time working with the man, and they were rarely useful beyond anything other than landing Parfait a partner for the evening.
“How is it useful?” she ventured wearily.
“Gives me someone to blame while everyone blames me.”
“Ah.”
Parfait looked outside, but then turned and walked back to Inkblot.
“So what does that spike mean, anyway?”
“It means,” answered Inkblot, “that something happened during the initialization of the fantasy.”
“Any idea what it was?”
“I know exactly what it was, and it’s not just something that caused the original spike, it’s also what’s causing the system to run at such a dramatic pace.”
“Well?” said Parfait pointedly.
“Well what?”
“What was it, man?”
“I’m a woman,” Inkblot replied tersely.
“Oh, yes, sorry,” Parfait said, moving from foot to foot. “Often forget that. What with the mustache and … well, anyway, what was it, woman?”
She pulled up an image of a ship that was as clear as day. It shouldn’t have been visible at all, being that it was cloaked. But since it was living inside of a fantasy and not in the real world, Inkblot had been able to find the digital signature and remove the cloaking field programmatically. She then coupled that with the images that she’d had from the satellite feed records from all the ships that had visited Fantasy Planet over the last few years until she finally built out a match.
“Is that what I think it is?” said Parfait.
“Yes, sir,” Inkblot replied. “It’s The SSMC Reluctant.”
“Oooh.”
THE SHIP IS BLOCKED
Working in engineering proved to be both fun and frustrating for Frexle. He enjoyed the rush of adrenaline every time he solved a fresh puzzle, and he loved puzzles. At the same time, some of them seemed ridiculous. On top of that, his new boss never could quite articulate how things precisely worked, which made the brainteasers all the more challenging.
“I don’t know, Chief,” Frexle said, scratching his head. “Even if we somehow got a virus working in time, how could we target the primary power grids only? We don’t know enough about their ships to do that.”
“That’s easy,” Geezer replied, nonplussed. “We just tell Ridly to manage it. She’s a whiz at this stuff, Frex.”
“She does seem quite adept.”
“One sec,” Geezer said, holding up one of his hands. “Okay, there. I just messaged her to start looking into it.”
Frexle looked around, but saw no way for Geezer to connect to the keyboard that was laying on the desk behind him.
“I didn’t see you typing.”
“No need. All the androids are able to send and receive messages via a personal channel.”
“But you’re not an android.”
Geezer’s eyes dimmed for a second. “You noticed that, eh? Hard to keep you in the dark.”
“No, I mean …”
“Artificial lifeforms, then, if you’re going to start getting pedantic.”
“Sorry, Chief.”
Geezer moved over to one of the access panels, opened it, and began connecting wires. He hadn’t told Frexle precisely what he was working on, but since the robot was constantly flipping wiring layouts, Frexle assumed that Geezer was mostly guessing anyway.
“She’s going to start digging in to the ship layouts and systems,” Geezer said as he continued shuffling the wires. “We’ll just keep worrying about coming up with fresh ideas and trying stuff.”
Just as Geezer finished his sentence, the red brick phone began to ring. They both looked at it for a moment and then Geezer whirred back to his desk and poked at it.
“Huh. That’s weird.”
“Isn’t that the phone I gave you?” asked Frexle.
“Yeah, that’s why it’s weird.”
“But I’m not calling you.”
Geezer’s eyes dimmed again.
“You humanoids sure do like pointing out the obvious, don’t you?”
Frexle decided to ignore the comment this time.
“Wonder who it is?” he said.
“Only one way to find out.” Geezer reached down and pressed the button on the phone. “Go for Geezer.”
“Hello?” came the sound of a voice that was nearly identical to Geezer’s, except this one was a bit higher-pitched. “Is this archaic piece of crap working?”
Frexle stood up straight at that comment. “Archaic?”
“Goozer? Is that you?”
“Yeah, it’s me.”
“Why are you using this phone?” Geezer said with a tilt of his head.
“And how did you get the number?” added Frexle.
“I couldn’t get through to you on normal channels,” explained Goozer. “The signal is being blocked. We also tried transporting our ship to your location, but we can’t do that either.”
“That’s weird,” Geezer said after taking out his workman’s rag.
“Again,” Frexle pressed, “how did you get this number?”
“I called the Overseer’s Front Desk and asked to speak with the crew of Platoon F,” Goozer replied.
Frexle was taken aback by that. It wasn’t common practice for the Overseers to let anyone know about anything, and there were rules about sharing contact information for anyone in the higher levels of government. Maybe Veli had already terminated Frexle’s contract? That was a sobering thought.
“And they just connected you?” Frexle asked.
“I’ll assume that was rhetorical,” replied Goozer.
Geezer chuckled. “He likes stating things that everyone already knows.”
“Must be a human thing,” Goozer said.
“Yeah. Anyway,” Geezer said, “I wonder what’s causing you to be blocked?”
Beep.
Beep.
Beep.
“What was that?” Geezer said, taking a step back from the phone. “Is this thing going to blow up or something?”
“No,” explained Frexle, “it’s just call-waiting.”
“What?” said Geezer.
“Call-whating?” asked Goozer.
“No, call-waiting. It means someone else is trying to get through. Just hit the blue button.”
Geezer did and the line clicked over.
“Hello?”
“Is this Geezer?” said a voice that sounded familiar to Frexle, but he couldn’t quite place it.
“Yeah,” Geezer replied. “Who’s this?”
“This is Inkblot from Fantasy Planet.”
Frexle nodded as the voice linked his memory back to the little fella back on Platoon F’s last mission.
“Oh, hey,” said Geezer. “What’s new, fella?”
“I’m not a fella,” complained Inkblot with a groan.
“Sorry, the mustache just …”
“Am I on speaker?” Inkblot interrupted irritably.
“Yeah, why?”
“Can you please take me off of speaker?”
Geezer picked up the phone and turned it this way and that. Frexle snatched it away from him, pressed a button, and then handed it back.
“Thanks, Frex. Okay, Inkblot, what’s up?”
“Are you aware that you’re not where you think you are?”
Geezer pulled the phone away from his ear and looked over at Frexle. Frexle had made out what Inkblot had said because her voice had bounced off of the metal casing that formed the body of the G.3.3.Z.3.R. robot. It was very quiet, but he had decent hearing when he needed to.
“Not sure how to answer that,” Geezer said a couple of seconds later.
“You think that you’re in space, but you’re not. Well, technically you are, but you’re not in the space you think you’re in.”
“Uh huh,” said Geezer.
“You’re inside of a fantasy,” Inkblot explained.
“Uh huh.”
“Seriously. The owner of Fantasy Planet has created a vast fantasy and I think you’re in it.”
“What?” Frexle said.
“She’s saying that …”
“No,” Inkblot yelled into the phone, “don’t say it out loud! You’re probably being watched. That’s why I wanted you to take me off speaker.”
“Nah,” Geezer replied, “we’re cool. I have built a system that shields us from incoming and outgoing communications.”
Platoon F: Quadology: Missions 6, 7, 8, and 9 (Platoon F eBook Bundle 2) Page 44