Platoon F: Pentalogy

by John P. Logsdon

  “Can you please get to the point, ensign?”

  Jezden sighed. “Ensign Sandy knows her way around hardware, sir.”

  Captain Harr leaned forward and placed his head in his hands. Why couldn’t he have just accepted the military’s mistake and hung from a rope? It would have made life so much easier. Shorter, but easier.

  “So no actual roboticists on board, then?”

  “No, sir.”

  “Commander Sandoo, do you concur with that assessment?”

  “He’s right, sir.”

  “Well, then let’s go ahead and see if Ensign Sandy can help him, shall we?”

  “I think he’s cooking up grub for tonight, sir,” said Sandoo.

  “The other Ensign Sandy, Commander,” Harr said, pinching the bridge of his nose.

  “Oh, right. Sorry, sir.”

  Harr stared up at the main view screen.

  Wherever they were, it was peaceful. With all that had happened over the last year, sitting adrift in what appeared to be more of a void than your standard fare void, was, in Harr’s estimation, relaxing.

  Bump.

  “What was that?” said Jezden.

  “I have no clue,” said Lieutenant Laasel, who seemed to return when things got too scary for Hank to manage.

  Bump.

  Harr felt it, but chose to ignore it. He kept his mind focused on the peace and serenity that he’d been feeling until the ship shifted.

  Now, where was he? Oh, yes, relaxation.

  Harr imagined taking a reprieve from the rigors of the Segnal Space Marine Corps for just a little while. No dealing with Rear Admiral Parfait’s incessant passes; no putting up with pointless exercises to demonstrate the need for Platoon F’s existence; no getting yelled at by interim commanders, such as Read Admiral Conster and his never-ending supply of battle lust; and no blasted reports that he knew good and well nobody bothered to read.

  Bump.

  “Sir?”

  Sure, being on a beach would be even better, especially if it included scantily clad women who were serving him drinks that contained mini umbrellas, but that wasn’t necessary. Floating here, in the emptiness of space, was nice.

  It was calm.

  It was peaceful.

  Bump. Bump. Bump.

  “Sir?”

  BUMP!

  “Sir!”

  “Oh, for the love of…what is it?”

  “We don’t know, sir,” said Jezden, “but it’s beating the hell out of The Reluctant.”

  BUMP!

  “Do we have it on screen anywhere?”

  “Monitor three, sir,” Lieutenant Laasel said, pointing.

  It looked like a smaller version of The Reluctant, except that it had what appeared to be four arms, a head that sported a large beak, and what appeared to be a top encasement that resembled a shell.

  “What the hell is that thing?” said Commander Sandoo as he stepped up onto the bridge and then fell over after another BUMP!

  “It looks like…” Harr started and then tilted his head.

  “It’s a fucking turtle,” said Jezden.

  “Literally,” said one of the other ensigns.

  “What?” Sandoo asked as he regained his footing.

  Jezden stepped over to the screen and pointed at the space tortoise. Specifically, he was pointing at its midsection.

  “What are you pointing at?” Captain Harr said, not wanting to believe what he was pretty sure he saw.

  “If you ask me,” said Jezden, “that’s a turtle dong.”

  “A turtle dong?” said Sandoo.

  “Yes, sir.”

  “Sir,” announced Lieutenant Laasel, “I have analyzed the molecular structure of the being and it’s really a combination of many different organisms that pull together for a single purpose.”

  “Meaning?” said Harr.

  “It’s not actually a giant tortoise, it just happens to look like one.”

  “Why would—”

  Just then the gargantuan turtle-looking thing bolted forward, bringing its lower appendage into ramming range with the back of The Reluctant.

  BUMP!

  Sandoo held on to the rail but Jezden was lifted straight up and slammed into the wall under the screen. It was all Harr could do to keep to his seat after that hit.

  “Do we have the shields up, Lieutenant?”

  “No, sir.”

  Harr bit his lip, took a breath, and said, “Could we please have the shields up, Lieutenant?”

  “Shields up, sir.”

  “Thank you. Could you also push us to full propulsion and get us away from that—”

  “Fucking turtle, sir?” said Jezden helpfully as he regained his composure.

  “In so many words, Ensign, yes.”

  “Moving to full impulse, sir,” said Laasel.

  The image of the turtle began to slowly fade into the distance as The Reluctant approached her full standard velocity.

  “Commander,” said Harr, stepping over to the ladder, “I’m going to go down to engineering. If you could please take command of the bridge and make sure that we steer clear of any additional…obstacles, I would be forever grateful.”

  “Yes, sir,” said Sandoo with a salute.

  Harr sighed, took a look once more around the bridge, saluted back, and then took the ladder one slow step at a time.

  The moment his feet hit the middle deck there was another BUMP!

  “You’ve got to be kidding me,” he said as he slammed into the wall.

  “Sir?”

  Harr slapped his comm unit. “I felt it, Commander. What is it now?”

  “Well, we seem to have flown into a nest of those—”

  BUMP! BUMP! BUMP!

  “Can we navigate out?” Harr yelled as he was bounced all over the deck, knowing for certain that he was going to be battered and bruised.

  “The lieutenant is trying, sir.”

  Crawling as quickly as he could, he slipped over the edge of the next ladder drop and hit the floor of the lower deck, immediately moving back into a crawling position. He held on as three more bumps rocked the ship. Then he crab-walked his way into engineering and took in the scene.

  Geezer was on the ground, sliding this way and that after each bump. Tools were flying all over the place. Harr was no mechanic, but he had the feeling that it wasn’t the best thing in the world for wrenches and screwdrivers to be flinging into open panels where wires hung in all directions.

  Forcing his way over to the desk, he scanned Geezer’s computer screen and saw that the GONE Drive was at 80% capacity. How it had charged up that fast was anybody’s guess.

  BUMP!

  The percentage went up to 85% instantly, coinciding with the bump.

  BUMP! BUMP!

  90%…95%. Ah ha, so it wasn’t coincidence. One more bump and they’d be at 100%.

  “Sir,” said an ensign who had crawled into the room.

  Harr looked back. “Sandy?”

  “Yes, sir.”

  “Rumor has it you know something about robots?”

  “Not really, sir.”

  “Great,” said Harr as a thought hit him…about two seconds before a wrench did. “Ouch!”

  “You okay, sir?”

  “Just my kneecap,” he replied, rubbing his knee.

  Looking up he saw that the GONE Drive was now at 100%. He scanned the screen again and found the slot for entering in projected coordinates. Checking the history of locations already entered, he found an extra decimal and digit attached to the end of each entry. The first part matched the original destination, but of the three coordinates entered, they read: 2391.1912.0, 2391.1912.1, and 2391.1912.2, respectively. So, obviously there was some significance to that last value and Geezer had never mentioned it.

  BUMP!

  The GONE Drive beeped. Harr looked at it and saw that it would overload if those turtle things kept hitting the ship.

  “Commander Sandoo?”

  “Here, Captain.”

&nb
sp; “What are the readings on the ship when we get hit?”

  “Lieutenant Laasel was just talking about that, sir. It seems that whenever they, uh…thrust into us, as it were, they release a charge.”

  He could hear Jezden laughing in the background.

  “Any chance you can keep them away from us for about thirty seconds? I have an idea.”

  “Lieutenant Laasel nodded her head in the affirmative, sir.”

  “Thirty seconds…on my mark.” He waved Ensign Sandy over and told her to undo the connection between Geezer and the GONE Drive. “Mark!”

  The ship groaned as the thrusters went again to full.

  Harr pulled the charge wires off of the GONE Drive and dropped down to where Geezer was. Working fast, he spun the wires carefully around the connection points to Geezer’s main pack.

  “Grab a pair of wire cutters, Ensign,” he commanded as he checked his work.

  “We’ve got one gaining on us, Captain,” Sandoo said through the comm.

  “On my mark, decelerate and go full reverse. Let’s let that thing get its money worth on The Reluctant, Commander.”

  “Yes, sir.”

  Harr scanned over everything one last time. Assuming that his best bet was to keep with the pattern that Geezer had been using, he updated the coordinates to read 2391.1912.3.

  “Hold on, Ensign, this is going to be rocky.”

  “Yes, sir.”

  Harr tapped his comm and said, “Mark!”

  The ship’s engines screamed as they went into full reverse. Harr grunted, pressing his feet against the base of Geezer’s desk, waiting for impact.

  “Status?”

  “The turtle is coming, sir!”

  Jezden laughed even louder.

  BAM!

  The lights on the ship dimmed almost completely, but came back on after a moment.

  “Status?”

  “The turtle is off our backs, sir,” Sandoo answered, “but he’s coming again.”

  Another laugh from Jezden.

  “Impact in 10 seconds.”

  Harr looked down and saw that Geezer’s main light was back on. The shock had worked.

  Reaching out, he clipped the wires and then slammed his hand down on the GONE Drive button.

  ARRIVAL

  The bumping had stopped, so Harr assumed that the ship had indeed transported yet again. He could only imagine where they were now.

  “Booting Protocol Stage 1,” said Geezer’s voice box, sounding nothing like the Geezer that Harr was used to hearing. “Loading main boot record.”

  “Ensign,” Harr said, “strip the ends of these wires and hook them back on to the GONE Drive, please.”

  “Yes, sir.”

  Harr set about reconnecting the power supply to Geezer as the robot continued its booting sequence. “Loading base memory. Loading communications connectors. Loading salsa dancing protocol.” Harr looked up at the robot, furrowing his brow, then shrugged and resumed his work. “Loading swear words list.” So it was true that the G.3.3.Z.3.R. line had been programmed with the ability to swear. “Loading rules of conduct. Loading user-inserted rules of conduct bypass protocol. Redacting rules of conduct.”

  He finished the connection and saw that the little green light on the battery pack had come to life.

  “Booting Protocol Stage 2. Please stand back.”

  Harr moved away, as did Ensign Sandy.

  Geezer began a series of leg kicks, arm stretches, and rotations. Harr assumed that this was all meant to be done in a standing position because the robot couldn’t quite complete all of the movements from his back.

  “Booting Protocol Stage 3.”

  Nothing seemed to happen.

  “Sir?” Commander Sandoo said through the comm.

  Harr had been so enthralled with getting Geezer back on line that he’d all but forgotten the fact that The SSMC Reluctant could still be in trouble.

  “Status, Commander?”

  “The turtles are gone, sir.”

  “Excellent,” said Harr. “Where are we now?”

  “We appear to be at the place that we were originally intended to be, sir.”

  “Are we on a planet or in some way, shape, or form about to be destroyed…or anything like that?”

  “We’re safely in orbit around a planet, sir.”

  Geezer suddenly sat straight up. He looked about as if disoriented before turning his eyes toward Captain Harr. “Cap’n?”

  “Geezer is back on line, Commander,” Harr said with a smile. “I repeat, Geezer is back on line.”

  “That’s great news, sir,” Sandoo replied.

  “Where the hell are we, chief?” said Geezer as he slowly pushed himself up. “Oh, we’re at the planet. I knew that my last entry would work.”

  “Not exactly,” said Harr, “you had put in .2 instead of .3.”

  Geezer looked up. “You figured that out, huh?”

  “Indeed.”

  “Sorry, prime. Turns out that you can be in multiple locations at a time, not just two like I’d originally thought. You see, it comes down to the Vergenheim Principle—”

  “Stop,” said Harr, holding up his hand. “You can explain it to me at some other time. Right now, we have work to do. Ensign, keep an eye on the chief engineer, in case he has any problems.”

  “I’m fine,” said Geezer, defiantly.

  “Allow the ensign to help you, Geezer. That’s an order.”

  The robot grunted as Harr left the room and headed back to the bridge. Along the way he found boxes strewn all over the hallways, panels were hanging open, and, just like in engineering, there were wires precariously exposed.

  He stepped on to the bridge and said, “Ensign Jezden, please take a couple of the crew and get the ship cleaned up. There are a lot of hazards throughout due to all that bumping.”

  “Yes, sir.”

  The screens were already opened and, Harr assumed, the cameras were recording. In front of The Reluctant was a planet that was somewhat brownish in nature. It didn’t have the look of habitability, at least not by Segnalian standards. Maybe whoever lived there originally had destroyed themselves. That was a constant historical footnote of possibility for nearly every generation on Segnal, after all. Obviously they’d never actually done it, but it was bound to happen eventually.

  “Any signs of life, Lieutenant?”

  “Plenty, thir,” Hank responded.

  “Oh?”

  “Yeth, thir. Full civilithathion down there. Buildingth, boatth, houtheth…everything, thir.”

  “Bogey incoming, sir,” Sandoo said.

  “On screen.”

  A very small vessel appeared. It, too, was brownish in color. Harr was starting to see a theme here.

  “Is it armed?”

  “Small contingent of weaponry, sir,” said Sandoo. “Nothing that looks threatening enough to The Reluctant.”

  “Still, put our shields up, just in case.”

  “Already done, thir.”

  “Thank you, Lieutenant.”

  “We’re being hailed, sir.”

  “On screen, Commander.”

  The face that filled in from the other side was strange, to say the least. First of all, it was big. Very big. Obviously the size of the monitor contributed to that, but it was more than that. The eyes were spaced widely apart and they appeared to be mildly crossed; the nose was wide and flat, bending up at the end; and the teeth, where there were teeth, looked like enormous pieces of yellowed chalk. Harr could only see the teeth because the thing appeared to be smiling.

  “Who are you guys?” said the voice, which surprised Harr because it was spoken in Segnalian common.

  “Is the Universal Translator on?” he asked.

  “No, thir.”

  “Huh,” he said, confused. Then he looked back at the screen. “Greetings. I am Captain Don Harr of The SSMC Reluctant.”

  “I are Stevey.”

  “Stevey?”

  “Yep.”

  “We
ll, Stevey,” Harr said, “we received a message from your world via a satellite of sorts.”

  “Did you bring space bars?” asked Stevey, excitedly.

  “Sorry,” said Harr.

  “Damn,” said Stevey, looking like a child who had been disallowed a slice of cake. “Well, dat’s okay, I guess. So how you able to blink from nowhere to here like dat?”

  “It’s a form of technology that we have, Stevey,” said Harr. “We’re able to select any destination in the universe and be there instantaneously.”

  “Wow,” said Stevey. “That’s neat. You want follow me down to Merrymoon?”

  “Merrymoon?”

  “Dat my planet.”

  “Oh, yes, of course, right.”

  “Okay, den, follow me!”

  MERRYMOON

  The world didn’t get any less brown as they zipped in after Stevey’s ship.

  “Do an analysis on the atmosphere and let me know if I can breathe out there, Commander.”

  “Yes, sir.”

  “Honcho?” said Geezer through comm.

  “Yes?”

  “I think I’m functioning at 100% now.”

  “Good to hear.”

  “Don’t suppose you could call off this ensign? She keeps trying to play with my anatomy.”

  “Send her back to her normal station,” Harr said, shaking his head and wondering at how a mind like Rear Admiral Parfait’s had been allowed so much input into how the androids had been programmed.

  “Thanks, chief.”

  Harr clicked off the comm returned his attention to the screens.

  The Reluctant was being deftly maneuvered by Lieutenant Laasel, or, it seemed, Hank Moon, as they followed in near perfect tracks behind their escort. They crossed over buildings that stood higher than Harr had ever seen. More surprisingly, some of the trees towered even higher than the buildings. It was like the place was built for creatures who were gigantic.

  Then Harr remembered Stevey’s huge face.

  That had to be it.

  They were giants.

  Great.

  “Looks breathable, sir.”

  “For me specifically, right?”

  “Yes, sir. Has some base concentrations of methane, but the source is constantly change for that, sir.”

  “That’s odd,” Harr mused. “Well, as long as I can breathe, even if that means holding my nose from time to time, that’s all that’s important.”