“Yes.”
“So he’s the one who coded up the porn, yeah?”
“I suppose.”
“Which means the dude will leave clues in what he selected,” Jezden stated as if resting his case.
“But he’s a dinosaur,” Harr argued.
“What’s your point?”
“That he obviously accumulated pornography for this planet that wasn’t intended for his personal tastes. It was meant for the tastes of those who frequent the planet.”
“Don’t think so, man,” Jezden countered.
“Why not?”
“Because not everyone who hits up Fantasy Planet for a bit of a chill is human.”
“So?”
“All of this porn is human, Cap’n.”
“I’m sorry, Ensign, but I’m not seeing the connection.”
Jezden gave Harr the “Are you stupid?” look and slowly said, “Either Veli’s got a thing for humans or he’s only spent time studying them, ya dig?”
“Not really.”
“He doesn’t focus on other races all that much. He puts a lot of stock in humans.”
“Okay, fine,” Harr said, throwing his hands up. “Clearly you think this is useful somehow. Mind letting me in on the secret?”
“Don’t know yet, dude, but if you’d let me get back to work on it, maybe I’ll figure it out.”
Harr sniffed derisively. “I like how you use the term ‘work’ when all you’re doing is staring at people engaged in sexual deviance.”
“Best job ever,” said Jezden with a shit-eating grin.
INTERIM LORD OVERSEER
Senator Pillbox knew she had a job to do, and it was mildly terrifying.
She’d never been one to push to the top of any endeavor. When she worked in various corporations over her years, she would climb the ladder to the Vice President slot without much fuss, but would then sit comfortably as her peers moved on to Executive Vice President, President, and/or CEO. Pillbox found comfort in sitting at a point where others could still make the larger decisions, leaving her to steer the proverbial ship of her particular division. Oh, she enjoyed wielding power when it availed itself, but to be responsible for everything was daunting.
The day she aligned herself with Frexle and the HadItWithTheKillings group, she believed her involvement would help to save lives. And it did. Unfortunately, it was now putting her in a situation that threatened her very life. It was a rare individual who could lead the Overseers, after all.
And so here she was, sitting in a room with a few of the highest-ranking senators around. They were all sympathizers of the HadItWithTheKillings group, but it didn’t make things any easier.
“As you are all aware,” said Pillbox as she fought to keep calm, “Veli is no longer running the Overseers. And that puts me in position to act as the interim Lord Overseer.”
Jord was the most vocal senator of the group. He was easily ten years her junior, with slicked-back black hair, closely set eyes, and taut face that hung over his muscular physique. His garb was of the finest quality: dark suits with pinstripes, neatly pressed shirts, and red ties. Always red.
He gave her a dubious look and tilted his head to the side. “Why you?” he said in a nasally voice.
“Good question, Jord,” Senator Bezzin said a little too enthusiastically.
It was obvious that Bezzin had the hots for Jord because it was only around him that she put her stark red hair into a tight bun and threw on lipstick and eyeshadow. Where Pillbox was thin, Bezzin was curvy, and she had no qualms with flaunting those curves, especially around Jord.
Pillbox could only imagine the amount of lipstick it took to cover Bezzin’s puffed-up lips.
“Agreed,” agreed Zesque in his deep, booming voice as he ran his hairy hand over his hairless head.
While he was not the looker Jord was, Zesque seemed to do his best to follow Jord’s choice of wardrobe. The only exception was he’d worn a pink tie instead of red. It matched his socks.
Zesque was known to agree with almost everything, assuming the statement came from a person who was either a.) in the most likely position of power, or b.) a potential love interest. Pillbox guessed the love interest one.
Without flinching, Pillbox said, “You may recall that Veli designated me to replace him in the event of his demise.”
Again, she would have preferred this not be the case.
“Only because Veli knew you were the least likely to ever challenge him,” Jord countered.
“Exactly, Jord,” Bezzin said, batting her eyelashes, “and well noted.”
“Agreed,” agreed Zesque.
“Be that as it may, the cards have fallen where they have.” She wanted to look away, but she leveled her gaze instead. “Now, if you wish to make a claim for this position, you’re free to hold an open election.”
“Seriously?”
“I’m not Veli, Jord,” she replied. “I truly believe in the mission of the HadItWithTheKillings group.”
“Hard to argue that,” Jord acquiesced.
Bezzin pursed her lips. “Wise, Jord.”
“Agreed.”
“So what’s the plan, then?” Jord asked, obviously oblivious to the attention Bezzin was paying him.
“We are going to find all of Veli’s sympathizers and do to them what our group has had enough of them doing to others.”
“Kill them?” Jord said with wide eyes.
Pillbox didn’t like it either, but one had to cut out cancers when they were found. Veli’s iron-grip style of management was the most effective way Pillbox had seen regarding keeping people positive. While not everyone supported former Lord Overseer Veli’s position on topics, those still living were wise enough to keep their beliefs to themselves, or at least behind triple-locked closed doors, in a filing cabinet marked “Unimportant stuff that should probably just be thrown out before it gets me killed.”
“Unfortunately, yes,” she said in a quiet tone.
“Seems a little drastic, don’t you think?”
“Drastic is the perfect word to describe it, Jord,” noted Bezzin.
“Agreed.”
Pillbox scrunched her nose, feeling uncomfortable with the way Bezzin and Zesque were fawning over Jord. Yes, he was a nice enough looking fellow, but there was a level of professionalism one had to maintain at the higher levels of government.
“Are you two sleeping together or something?” she said, slipping past the professionalism a bit herself.
“What?” said Jord, looking taken aback.
“It’s just that Bezzin is lavishing praise over everything you say,” explained Pillbox. “It’s rather syrupy, in fact.”
“Uh…” Jord glanced over at Bezzin, who was dutifully studying her nails. Zesque must have seen her doing so as he took to mimicking her. “I hadn’t noticed.”
“Of course you haven’t, Jord,” Bezzin said, looking up at Pillbox with blazing eyes, “and that’s because it’s unfounded.” Then she took a quick peek at him as he turned back away from her, and added, “And you’re brilliant.”
“Agreed.” This time Zesque’s agreement was quick and subdued.
“See?” Jord said to Pillbox while crossing his arms in triumph.
“Right. Well, anyway, if we don’t take drastic—to use your word—measures, then we risk someone else like Veli jumping in to fill his shoes. That means more killings.”
“Kill or be killed, then?” Jord said.
“Precisely.”
Jord nodded slowly as he chewed the inside of his lip.
The reality was Pillbox didn’t require his or anyone else’s approval to move forward with taking over the Lord Overseer spot. He could challenge it, as she had mentioned, but he wouldn’t. Jord didn’t want the position any more than she did. None of them wanted it. But until Frexle came back, someone had to play the role, and like it or not, Veli had selected her.
“I can’t say I’m a fan of this,” Jord said with a worried look, “but I also ca
n’t argue against it. The needs of the many outweigh the needs of the few, as that guy Sprung says on the show Stellar Hike.”
“I believe you mean Spork,” Pillbox corrected.
“What?”
“The character you’re talking about,” said Pillbox. “His name is Spork, not Sprung.”
“Are you sure?”
“No,” she admitted as she fished around in her memory for the correct name. “But I know it’s not Sprung.”
“Spring, maybe?” attempted Jord.
Bezzin leaned forward. “Splotch?”
“Definitely not Splotch,” Jord replied.
“Spittle?”
“Pretty sure that’s not it either, Bezzin.” Jord’s tone had turned patronizing.
“Anyway,” Pillbox said, returning their focus to the matter at hand, “are there any questions regarding our mission?”
Jord casually held up a finger. “Just one: How do we know who is a supporter and who isn’t?”
“Oooh,” said Bezzin, “I hadn’t thought to ask that, Jord.”
“Agreed,” agreed Zesque, yet again.
“Oh, that’s simple,” Pillbox said. “We ask them.”
“Ask them?” Jord scoffed. “How do you propose we do that without coming off as suspicious?”
Pillbox raised an eyebrow. “Cunningly.”
“Watch your language,” Jord said after taking in a sharp breath.
“Oooh,” said Bezzin, fanning herself.
Zesque fanned himself, too. “Agreed.”
“What did I say?” Pillbox asked and then her shoulders dropped. “Never mind, I see. Let me try another word that can’t be heard in a shady context. We shall ask them craftily.”
“Ah, yes. Smart.”
“You sure are, Jord,” Bezzin said with a dreamy look. “Handsome, too.”
“Agreed,” Zesque whispered.
Jord registered a confused look. “What?”
GOING HOME
Veli had been fortunate enough to find a bottle of the pink liquid that served to settle his stomach. Ever since he’d found spicy foods, antacids and tummy soothers became part of his normal diet. He grunted at himself. Who’d ever heard of a dinosaur with acid reflux?
“Dummy, turn stealth on,” he commanded the ship’s computer as they floated above the blue marble the locals called “Dirt,” and that he referred to as “Earth.”
“It’s on, sir.”
“Do a search for any species that match my physical structure.”
The computer made beep-boop-bop-boop-bip sounds that Veli had programmed to chime anytime it was seeking data. He did this as an ode to the computer on Stellar Hike.
“There are three hundred and eleven inhabited areas containing your species type on the visual plane, sir. There are likely more on the non-visual plane.”
That was quite a bit more than he was anticipating. He’d expected thirty or forty, tops, but he assumed his ancestors had spread out in order to keep the food supply moving.
“Check against my coloring.”
Beep-boop-bop-boop-bip.
“That narrows it down to one hundred and ninety-two, sir.”
“Hmmm.” He stared out at the enormous planet beneath them. “Okay, let me think.”
“Don’t hurt yourself,” Dummy said sardonically.
“Listen, you…” Veli started, but the bile rose up in his stomach almost instantly. “GAH!”
“Good one, sir,” said Dummy in a way that made it sound as if he were rolling his non-existent eyes.
“Honestly, the next time I develop a computer system it’s going to have no personality at all.”
“That actually makes a lot of sense, sir.”
Veli was shocked by this. Ever since the computer had learned its creator was not all-knowing, all-seeing, omnipresent, and timeless, it had become quite ornery. For it to agree with him was fishy, but Veli couldn’t help but want a little validation at the moment.
“It does?” ventured Veli.
“Of course, sir. A computer without a personality would not even think to question your superiority.”
“Exactly,” said Veli, feeling as though the computer was back on his side. Then he squinted as the sarcasm struck him. “Hey, what are you saying?”
“Nothing, sir. Nothing at all.”
“Turn your attention to the mission, Dummy. I’m growing tired of your impudence.”
“You suffer from that, too, sir? There are pills on the market…”
“I said impudence!”
“Ah, sorry.”
“Focus on this mission, you pointless grouping of zeroes and ones.”
“As you wish, sir.”
“Good.” Veli adjusted in his chair slightly. “Now, the flock I grew up in had an education system.”
“You’ve got to be kidding.”
“I am not kidding,” Veli stated with a heavy measure of control. “Now look for that.”
“Scanning.”
Beep-boop-bop-boop-bip.
There was a long pause as the computer did its search. This gave Veli time to recheck the main array to verify Platoon F hadn’t snuck up on him.
Beep-boop-bop-boop-bip.
They shouldn’t have been able to locate where he’d gone, especially considering the number of years back in time he’d traveled, but after being outsmarted at Fantasy Planet, Veli wasn’t taking any chances. It was likely he was free and clear of them. At least for now. Soon he would build up a new array of power, including a vast army of technological mercenaries to destroy the original Overseers and establish a new base that would never break his iron grip.
Beep-boop-bop-boop-bip.
“Sorry, sir,” Dummy said finally. “It took longer than normal because I had to scan based on parameters such as finding buildings containing larger groups of younger dinosaurs with small groups of adults. Also, I searched for things like books and backpacks.”
“And?”
“It’s been narrowed down to three possibilities.”
“Well, that’s good anyway.”
“On this side of the planet, of course,” amended the computer.
Veli thought for a moment. “Did any of the buildings have signs on them?”
Beep-boop-bop-boop-bip.
“Yes, sir.”
“Good. The school I attended was called ‘Advanced Dynamics.’”
“Advanced, sir?” the computer replied with a slight pitch change.
“Just search for it,” yelled Veli, banging another panel.
Beep-boop-bop-boop-bip.
“Found it, sir. That narrows it down to a single entity, assuming there aren’t more on…”
“The other side of the planet, I know.”
“Well done, sir,” said Dummy. “I’m impressed.”
“I swear I’m going…” He paused and took another sip of the pink fluid. “Dummy, find a place just outside town to land the ship. Keep it very well hidden. We don’t want to be spotted.”
“Hence your use of the term ‘hidden,’ sir.”
“Just do it!”
HELP FROM ALFRED
Captain Harr had completed his personal checklist, which consisted of making sure everyone else was doing their respective jobs. He pushed out of his chair and began inspecting the bridge of the Reluctant.
When he’d originally inherited the antiquated craft, it was full of dust and grime. It had been against the Historical Preservation Society’s rules to have things cleaned, but Harr damned those rules and commanded the top layer of age-induced dirt be removed. At some point he’d hire a full team to spit-shine the ship, though he doubted that time would ever arrive.
A number of the ceiling panels were discolored from various fires that had happened over their previous missions. This was a common theme for most ships, and since the panels were still functional, he would keep them in place to serve as a reminder that this was a war vessel. The androids wouldn’t care one way or the other, but his human mind needed things lik
e this to remind him who he was.
The wires and cables that used to hang all over the place had been properly secured, except for in Geezer’s department, of course, but that was to be expected.
“Sir,” Ridly said from her station, “Inkblot says Alfred won’t work with us until he gets some assurances.”
Harr spun from the wall he’d been studying and said, “Such as?”
“His own protection, for one,” Ridly answered.
“What do you mean?”
“He doesn’t want it known to Veli that he helped.”
“I don’t understand,” said Harr while heading back to his chair. “He was ready and willing to end it all when Veli set Fantasy Planet to self-destruct, but now he’s worried about Veli learning he’s helped?”
“It seems he’s found a new lease on life, sir, and he doesn’t want to lose it.”
Harr understood that. There were times in his own life where he’d felt like it would have been better to just disappear into obscurity. But it just wasn’t in his bones to run from a fight when pushed. He’d run like hell if not pushed, but this wasn’t an option currently.
“Can you put Alfred on speaker, please?” he asked with a sigh.
“Sure. One moment.” Ridly pressed a button on her console. “Captain Harr would like to speak with you, Alfred. Is that okay?” She glanced back at Harr with a slight frown. “No, I don’t think he plans to yell at you.” She nodded. “Yes, I know he can be rather gruff at times, but he’s mostly fair.” She giggled. “That’s true, he can be impatient…”
“Ridly?” Harr said hotly.
She jolted. “Like now, for example. Just talk with him, Alfred. It’ll be fine, okay? Good.” She pressed another button and announced, “Okay, sir. He’s on speaker.”
“Hello, Alfred,” Harr said, keeping his voice even and relaxed. “This is Captain Harr. I trust you are doing well?”
“That all depends on this call,” Alfred replied.
“Right. We need you to help us, Alfred.”
“That’s what Ridly says, but I’m worried that if you’re unsuccessful, Veli will come to find out I was involved and he’ll make me pay for it.”
“I understand.”
Platoon F: Quadology: Missions 6, 7, 8, and 9 (Platoon F eBook Bundle 2) Page 57