Platoon F: Quadology: Missions 6, 7, 8, and 9 (Platoon F eBook Bundle 2)

by John P. Logsdon

  At this point it was all on Clippersmith to believe Harr or not.

  To his credit, the man did seem to be weighing things. Based on his history working with the brass though, this could also have been the distressing look of having had one too many tacos. It was hard to tell with their lot.

  “Well, Captain Don Harr from the planet Segnal,” Clippersmith said gruffly, “I have bad news for you: I don’t believe you. So you will be put back into the brig until the king is dead. Then you will be brought in front of the masses as sympathizers and summarily executed.”

  Harr nodded sadly, and said, “You know, you’d think that people would be thankful that we try to save them from utter decimation. It just never seems to be the case.”

  “Guards,” Clippersmith called out, “take him away!”

  PICKED UP

  Getting through the tubes was tricky, and Goozer had felt that his metallic buttocks were probably shining like brand new from the polishing the walls had given them, but they were finally out in the main area surrounding the core.

  Goozer carefully stood up and surveyed the area.

  The place was semi-circular and it was monstrous. Based on his local measurements—based on those that Plock and crew could understand, anyway—it was roughly 40,000 ants high and 60,000 ants from wall to wall. The “ant” was a unit of measure from the world of Tinyfolk.

  In the middle sat a smaller hub that he assumed housed the core.

  “The bugs are incoming, sir,” he heard Clack say across the comm.

  “Damn,” replied Plock. “I was hoping they’d be asleep or something.”

  “What sense does that make?” asked the gritty-voiced Fluck.

  “I’m sure you have a plan at-the-ready, sir. Your strategic-thinking knows no bounds that I’m aware of.”

  Goozer shook his head at that. Clack was the quintessential brown-noser. She even carried a small box of tissues with her whenever going to meet with the brass.

  “Why don’t you just use the syrupy bullshit that Clack is spewing to draw the bugs away?” suggested Fluck.

  “Excuse me?” Clack said.

  “Calm down, the two of ya,” Plock said swiftly. “I need ya both talkin’ with the rest of the squad and keeping them bugs at bay while I deliver the package.”

  “What package?” Fluck asked.

  “Me,” Goozer replied. “Idiot.”

  “Oh, yeah,” Fluck said. “Forgot about him.”

  “Sir,” said Clack, “you have a bogey on your six.”

  Goozer frantically searched the area, but he couldn’t see what Clack was talking about. He looked up, down, left, and right. Nothing.

  “What’s a bogey and why is it on Plock’s six?” he asked finally. “Oh, and what’s a six?”

  “There’s a bug incoming behind the ship,” Plock answered. “As for six, it’s a number.”

  “I know it’s a number.”

  “Think of it like a clock, sir,” Clack said. “If you were standing in the center of a timepiece looking at noon, six would be behind you.”

  “Ah,” Goozer said.

  Goozer spun around and saw a squadron of gigantic roaches flying directly at them. He wasn’t one who typically allowed his fear chip to engage, but in this instance he was unable to bypass the code.

  “Shit,” he said.

  “See to your squads, Fluck and Clack,” Plock commanded. “Now!”

  “Fluck off.”

  “Well, that’s a little harsh of a response,” Goozer said, snapping himself back into the moment.

  “He said ‘Fluck.’”

  “Oh, right.”

  “Sir,” Clack stated as she flew towards her squad, “you have to get to the core quick, that bug is gaining on you. I’ll try a strafing maneuver.”

  “Negative,” stated Plock. “Get your squad fighting them damn roaches. Your duty is to your crew, Clack. Not to me.”

  “But, sir ...”

  “Don’t make me pull rank, Clack. Get to work.”

  “Yes, sir,” she replied sadly.

  “Hold on back there, robot. It’s about to get rough.”

  If not for his magnetic boots, Goozer would have fallen right off the ship as Plock turned into a nosedive and cut away from the roaches.

  Lasers and goop were flying all over the place as the dogfight ensued.

  Were this a movie, Goozer would have enjoyed it immensely. Being in the movie, though, was not nearly as fun. Exciting? Yes. Fun? No.

  Countless roaches were falling in a firey rage, littering the ground in a mass of carnage. About half the number of miniature ships had met with the same fate, though theirs was a more disturbing death. The fallen ships had green goop covering them, melting the panels in an instant. Pilot screams lasted only milliseconds.

  “Shit,” yelped Goozer as he felt himself lifted from the ship. Obviously his magnetic boots weren’t powerful enough to thwart a hungry roach.

  “Where’d ya go?” said Plock desperately.

  “This damn bug has a hold of me,” Goozer answered while trying his best to wriggle out of the insect’s grip. “It’s pretty disgusting.”

  “I see ya,” Plock said. Goozer saw the little ship roll up in front of him. “Problem is that I can’t shoot at the damn thing without blowing you up, too.”

  “Well, you have to do something.”

  “Not sure what.”

  Goozer had a disconcerting thought. “What’s this thing going to do with me?”

  “Probably take you back to its lair and eat you,” Plock answered matter-of-factly.

  “I don’t think so,” Goozer announced.

  He pressed a button on his chest, causing a static charge to release over his entire body. The bug made a “sqrrtle” type sound and let him go.

  Goozer was free!

  Unfortunately, gravity was pulling him towards what appeared to be a nest of the damn things.

  “Screw this,” he said. “I’m outta here.”

  An instant later he was standing back in the engineering room of The Ship, and while he didn’t need cleaning as most beings did, he had the sudden urge to shower.

  “Damn,” Plock said angrily.

  “Did we lose him, sir?” Clack asked.

  “No,” Fluck said. “I just looked at the robot’s transponder. That bastard transported back to the ship? I thought that wasn’t possible.”

  “Apparently it is for him,” Plock replied.

  “Asshole,” said Fluck.

  “I heard that,” Goozer announced, still on the channel.

  “Good,” said Plock. “Now how about transporting us all out, too?”

  “Sorry, can’t. I only upgraded my transporter unit.”

  Clack clicked her comm a few times and then, as if she couldn’t contain herself, said, “Well, that was a little selfish, don’t you think?”

  “Probably,” Goozer agreed. “I’ll configure the ships when you get back.”

  “If we get back,” Fluck said.

  “Everyone to the port,” Plock commanded. “Let’s get out of here.”

  “Asshole.”

  “What did I do?”

  “No, sorry, Plock,” Fluck replied. “You’re not the asshole this time. Was still talking about that damned robot.”

  “Ah, right. At least that’s one thing we can agree on.”

  INFILTRATION

  Veli had just come back from his second visit to the restroom.

  Time and again he’d told himself to stay away from the Popped Beef and time and again he ate it anyway. Sometimes he’d opt for the Screaming Nachos instead, but the number they played on his gut was far worse.

  During his last physical, the doctor had told him that he should probably start eating rice cakes instead. Veli killed him. Of course, Veli killed everyone who saw him. It was a matter of self-preservation when running the land of the Overseers. Being the doctor of the Lord Overseer seemed like a plush job when you were hired, but it was always the last entry on your resum
e.

  “Sir, something has entered the core.”

  Veli opened his eyes. “The core of The Lord’s Master?”

  “No, sir. The core of me. Not inside the fantasy, but in real life, sir.”

  “What is it?” Veli said as he shifted in his chair.

  “They look like a fleet of miniature ships,” the computer answered and then switched over the screen. “There appears to be two squadrons and one solo ship that has a robot on the top of it.”

  Veli forced himself up in the chair while struggling to see the ships. They were indeed tiny, and they weren’t a make that Veli had seen before.

  “Where the hell did they come from?”

  “The ventilation port, sir.”

  “I know that, you pedantic goat scrotum …”

  “That’s a disturbing image.”

  “What I want to know is what they’re doing there.”

  “Goat scrotums?” the computer said quizzically. “I would imagine that they have the same purpose as the scrotum on ...”

  “No, bonehead, I’m talking about those ships.”

  “Right. I don’t know, but the bugs are attacking.”

  “Eek,” said Veli, lifting his feet off the floor and crouching on the chair.

  “Sir?”

  “Don’t like roaches,” he said. “They’re so ... ew.”

  “How do you think I feel about them, sir? They essentially live in my belly.”

  “Yeah, but you’re just a ... uh ... I mean ...”

  “You were going to say that I’m just a machine again, weren’t you?”

  Veli looked away innocently. “No.”

  “You’re lying.”

  “No, I’m not.”

  “And you call yourself a higher lifeform,” the computer said with a tsk-tsk inflection.

  “I never said anything,” complained Veli.

  “Only because you caught yourself before going too far.” The computer zoomed in the screen suddenly. “It looks like a robot has been abducted by one of the roaches.”

  Veli spat on the floor disgustedly. He felt his bile on the rise. It wasn’t bad enough that he had the shits, watching this scene unfold was making him want to retch as well.

  A flash of light blinked and the roach dropped the robot.

  “Oooh,” said Veli, happy that the roach had been zapped. “Did you see that flash of light?”

  “The robot shocked the bug.”

  “Exactly. Good thing, too. Disgusting insects. Blech.” Veli spat again. “But now what’s the robot going to do?”

  “Looks like he’s going to fall into a nest of the things.”

  Veli hurled into his bucket of Popped Beef.

  “Nope, wait, he’s just transported out.”

  Veli wiped his mouth and slowly sat back down in the chair, feeling even worse than before.

  “Can you track where he went?”

  “No, sir.”

  “Do those ships have communications going?”

  “Yes, sir.”

  Veli slammed his hand on the chair. “Put it on speaker, you twit!”

  “Asshole,” came the reply.

  “Don’t you dare call me names, Computer.”

  “That was the voice of one of the pilots, sir,” the computer declared.

  “Oh,” Veli said apologetically. “Well, why is he calling me an asshole? I don’t even know that guy.”

  “He was talking to his superior officer, sir.”

  “Seriously? I’d have him killed for that, if he reported to me.”

  “Yes, sir,” the computer said as if that were obvious. He then zoomed back out on the scene and plotted their trajectory. “It seems that they have to fly their way out, sir. Should I have them destroyed?”

  “You can do that? I never gave you the ability to do that.”

  “Not directly, sir, but I can seal off the ventilation shaft. Eventually they’ll run out of power and the bugs will get them.”

  “Not a horrible idea, actually,” Veli said. “But we still don’t know why they’re in there.”

  “No, sir.”

  “What if they’re just in a fantasy?”

  While Veli would be the first person to admit that watching people get killed made for great television, he wasn’t interested in seeing it happen by roaches. He threw up a little in his mouth at the thought. Beside, if these people were in a fantasy then that would make for terrible publicity for Fantasy Planet, and that could cause an investigation that would overturn the rock that led to him being discovered as the place’s owner.

  “That could be it, right?” Veli asked. “It would explain why the one guy was allowed to call his superior officer names, too.”

  “Unfortunately, sir, all of my processes are being taken up with other things. If you want me to shut down ...”

  “No, no. It’s okay. This has to be a fantasy of some sort. Why else would anyone want to fly around in a firefight with bugs while using tiny ships?”

  “As you say, sir.”

  “People have the oddest fantasies,” Veli said as he curled back up on the chair. “Still, once this is all over, I’ll send a note to that infernal Parfait that there must be some limitations on these things.”

  And then he’d have a secret meeting with Parfait where he would reveal himself to the worthless man.

  Veli smiled slightly at the thought of what that eventuality meant.

  ONE FANTASY, PLEASE.

  Frexle and Geezer were brainstorming when Jezden walked in to engineering.

  Geezer took a quick look around thinking that maybe a lady had slipped into the room when his back was turned. He didn’t spot anyone. Besides, Jezden appeared different somehow.

  “You okay, Jezden?” Geezer asked. “You look like you’ve just seen a ghost.”

  “Worse,” Jezden said, visibly shaken.

  “Worse than a ghost?”

  “A lot worse.”

  By now, Frexle seemed equally interested. “What did you see?”

  “I don’t want to talk about it.”

  “It may help you to cope with whatever it is,” suggested Frexle.

  “I’m an android, remember?”

  “So delete what you saw,” Geezer said.

  “I can’t, dude. There are routines in my programming that prevent that.”

  “Oh, yeah,” Geezer said and then nodded at Frexle. “I had those too at one point. Got rid of them. Things have been much better since. Actually, I got rid of a bunch of them.”

  “Yeah, well I can’t,” said Jezden sadly. “It’s tightly integrated with my functioning. Of course, that’s what got me in trouble in the first place.”

  “That’s your programming talking,” Geezer pointed out.

  Jezden shrugged. “Can’t help that, or what I ... did.”

  “And you’re not going to share what you saw?”

  “Frexle dude, you really don’t wanna know.”

  “I might,” Frexle countered. “Is it important to this mission?”

  “I sure as hell hope not, cause I’m not interested in doing it again.”

  “Then why are you down here?” ventured Geezer.

  “Thought maybe I could help out.”

  Geezer highly doubted that. If they were facing the challenge of blocking the flow of electrons down a 12-inch access port, Jezden would have been the man for the job—he had done it before—but brainstorming ideas wasn’t exactly one of the android’s strongest points.

  But it wasn’t like he and Frexle had been getting anywhere either. Sure, they had a couple of ideas, just nothing concrete or particularly useful.

  “Okay,” Geezer said, figuring it may be worth a shot to get a different perspective. “We’ve been trying to figure out a way to break out of this fantasy that Veli has created.”

  “What ya got so far?”

  “Well,” Geezer answered, “we worked through a couple hundred algorithms, multiple dynamics and presentation options, and we just finished up on a few mode
ls that could potentially be used to split the CPU of the main Fantasy Planet system in half. We even had that idea before about creating a fantasy within a fantasy, but that didn’t pan out either.”

  “Too complicated,” noted Frexle.

  Jezden glanced up at him. “So?”

  “We’ve got nothing,” Frexle stated.

  “Right on.”

  Frexle spun away and walked across the room.

  “We need something else,” he said as he began closing a bunch of open panels. “It’s got to be strong enough to break us free without putting everyone on Fantasy Planet in jeopardy.”

  “And us, too,” noted Geezer.

  “Right.”

  “Look,” Jezden said with a frown, “I know I’m not an expert when it comes to these things, but why couldn’t we just transport out of this fantasy and then create our own fantasy in the real world? Hook that up so that our gig is to infiltrate Veli’s gig, ya dig?”

  Geezer stopped his subprocesses from searching for a solution. If what Jezden suggested was possible, it would be perfect.

  “Holy shit, Jezden,” Geezer said, shocked. “That’s an amazing idea.”

  “Truly inspired,” agreed Frexle.

  Jezden eyed them both suspiciously. “No foolin’?”

  “Brilliant,” Frexle said, slapping Jezden on the shoulder.

  “Only one problem with it,” Geezer said in a melancholy tone, “our transporter technology isn’t currently powerful enough to handle the entire ship.”

  That’s when Frexle smiled and said, “I think this is where you’ll find that having an Overseer on your crew can be quite beneficial indeed.”

  “What do you mean?” asked Geezer.

  “Just that I can likely expand your transporter technology by using mine.”

  “Does that mean that my idea is still good?” asked Jezden.

  “I’d say that it may in fact have saved us all,” Frexle replied.