Platoon F: Pentalogy

by John P. Logsdon

  Harr, Sandoo, and Hank (Laasel had taken a backseat to the event) were all looking at each other with their mouths agape. Even Jezden looked shocked from his perch across the room.

  “Uh…” Sando said.

  “Thit, thit, thit,” said Hank.

  Harr looked at him askance.

  “Jutht thomething that Geether taught me,” said Hank with a shrug. “It really helpth!”

  “I’m sure it does,” said Sandoo.

  “I know I don’t always catch everything,” Harr said, frowning in concentration, “but did they all essentially describe the robot that was sent out with The SSMC Voyeur?”

  “That’s what I heard, sir.”

  “Thame here.”

  “And he’s up in those mountains,” said Harr looking around at the near 360-degrees of hills that surrounded the area.

  “That’s what they said, sir.”

  “That altho exthplainth why they can thpeak our language.”

  There was a bit of irony in the fact that Hank had said that.

  “Agreed,” said Harr, “even though The Voyeur was apparently sent along containing a near complete dictionary with pictures, audio, and everything. However, having the help of a robot would make the adaptation of language stronger.”

  “Laathel did some studying up on the ARC line of robotth, if you want me to bring her out,” suggested Hank.

  “Please.”

  Blink.

  “Sir? Oh, the event. I heard about this. Didn’t really want to come. Nice plates. Is that meat?”

  “Unknown,” said Harr. “You seem to be managing those personality changes a little more smoothly, Lieutenant.”

  “Well, Hank and I have kind of made a pact. We don’t like it so much when our other personality comes out because she tends to get us into the sack with Jezden.” She paused. “Okay, so Hank informs me that he’s okay with that, but I, sir, am not. Anyway, we’ve been working together on this ever since I had a conversation with Geezer about the potentiality of combining my personalities into one.”

  “That would be helpful,” said Harr, and then quickly added, “assuming you’re okay with that, of course.”

  “Our third personality is not okay with it—”

  “You mean Grav—”

  “Ack ack ack!” said Laasel. “Don’t say the name, Commander. That gives her power to come up to the surface.”

  “Oh, sorry,” said Sandoo, sheepishly.

  “Anyway, sir, I’m sure you didn’t bring me out to discuss this.”

  Harr shook himself back to the matter at hand. “No. No, I didn’t. Lieutenant, we have reason to believe that the original robot that piloted The SSMC Voyeur is on this planet. Up in the mountains, actually.”

  “Oh?”

  “It was in their prayers,” offered Sandoo.

  “What?”

  “No time to explain,” Harr said. “The point is that Han…uh…”

  “Oh, you can say his name, sir. We have an agreement.”

  “Right, good. Well, Hank said that you have been studying up on the ARC series robots.”

  “Yes, sir.”

  One thing that Harr found lacking in Lieutenant Laasel’s personality was that she was not forthcoming with information. She didn’t take the logical leaps that Hank did. Hank was resourceful and clever, whereas Laasel was bookish and seemingly incapable of offering information before it was requested.

  “So what did you learn?”

  She stared off for a moment as if accessing the information. “The ARC line was built with a few points in mind: one, to be able to adapt to changes in their environment; two, to be able to teach the basics of Segnal history and language; and three, to be fine working in solitary situations. Most of the early tests showed that the robots were best at point number three. There was rarely a situation where, after a time, an ARC robot would stay with large groups of people or even other robots. Solitude was so deeply ingrained that the original scientists often found the robots sequestering themselves in dark corners of the basement so that they could be alone.”

  “That would explain why he went off to the mountains,” said Sandoo.

  “Yes, and it also explains why the Merrymoonians were told to not go into the mountains.”

  “Tho now what?” said Hank, obviously returning.

  “Silence please,” said the Supreme Admiral.

  Everyone went silent.

  “I guess we’re about to find out,” whispered Harr.

  “Tonight we celebrate the arrival of our new friends. Though they are not versed in our ways, they have shown us…” she glanced deviously at Ensign Jezden, “…many new things.”

  “Yep yep!” chorused the soldiers, and then they burped so loudly that it hurt Harr’s ears.

  “While they have yet to accept Soenso into their hearts,” she continued, “they soon will or they shall face the stick of regret.”

  “Yep yep! Brrrrrrrrrrrrap!”

  The three Reluctant officers looked back and forth at each other again.

  “Yet, tonight, we must raise our glasses and thank them for bringing to us the technological advancement that is The SSMC Reluctant. With that ship, we will be able to spread the Word of Soenso out into the stars!”

  “Yep yep! Brrrrrrrrrrrrap!”

  That was then followed by the gulping of massive mugs of ale, or so Harr assumed. And that was followed by a symphony of belching so loud that even covering his ears didn’t help.

  “Does the captain of The SSMC Reluctant wish to say anything?” asked the Supreme Admiral.

  “Looks like you’re up, sir,” whispered Sandoo.

  “Good luck,” offered Hank.

  Harr grimaced, but stood up, holding his drink high. “Our two peoples have barely gotten to know each other at all, but in the extremely short time that we’ve been on Merrymoon, we have found your hospitality to be top rate. The Segnal people, through us, wish to thank you for treating the crew of The SSMC Reluctant with honor and respect, and we, as a people, hope that our two worlds will find peace and prosperity as the future unfolds.”

  “Yep yep! Brrrrrrrrrrrrap!”

  Harr tried to suck down the ale in his mug, but instead he nearly choked on it. The bitterness was insane and it burned worse than rotgut.

  He felt the sudden urge to burp.

  It went silent as the Merrymoonian’s all watch him.

  He stomach churned. The bubble formed. It floated up.

  “Brrrap.”

  The Merrymoonians fell into a fit of laughter, falling from the tables. For a Segnalian, it had been a fairly decent burp, but Harr knew that to a Merrymoonian it sounded like a mouse fart.

  He sighed and slumped back into his chair, waiting for the evening to end.

  THE OWL

  As soon as they had gotten back to the ship, even though Harr was feeling a bit tipsy, it was decided that they were going to sneak out under the cover of darkness and try to find the ARC robot.

  “Is there any way we can…hiccup…track it?” asked Harr.

  Laasel was at the forefront of the discussion. “All of the ARCs consistently transmitted a signal on frequency 1298.9, Segnal Modulation.”

  “I thought 1298.9SM was a light rock station,” said Sandoo.

  “It is now,” replied Laasel, “but remember that the ARCs are 500 years old.”

  “Oh, right.”

  “How does the thing stay powered?” asked Geezer.

  “The way the ARCs were built, they generated their own energy by way of collecting solar light and winds.”

  “But we’re on a planet now.”

  “They were also built to adapt, so it has probably altered its power source to be something prevalent on Merrymoon.”

  “Methane,” said Harr with a grunt. “Has to…hiccup…be.”

  “I’m not sure how that would work, sir,” said Laasel. “You see, taking a gas such as—”

  Harr held up his hand. “I was making a joke, Lieu…hiccup…Lieutenant.”


  “Ah,” said Laasel. “Ha ha, sir.”

  “I’ll be here all week,” he said with a wink.

  “Where else would you be, sir?”

  Harr sighed loudly. “Can we track it or not?”

  “I’ve already got the blip,” said Geezer. “He’s about a mile due west.”

  “That’s not that far,” said Sandoo.

  “Kind of,” replied Geezer. “It’s about a quarter mile to the mountain and about three-quarters up, which, if my camera readings are correct, looks to be pretty steep.”

  “Oh.”

  “I don’t suppose…hiccup…we have any coffee made?”

  “I’ll brew you some, sir,” said Sandoo.

  “Thanks, man. You’re a…hiccup…good guy, ya know? Trustworthy. Yep. That’s…hiccup…you in a nutshell.”

  “Thank you, sir.”

  “All eight…hiccup…eight…hiccup…eighteen toes of you, Sandoo.”

  “Right,” said Sandoo with a frown. “Let me get that coffee, sir.”

  * * *

  By the time they’d slipped out the back of the ship, the sky was dark and a moon hung low, barely visible through the haze. There were a few Merrymoonian guards on duty, but they were snoring so loudly that Harr assumed he’d have to pelt them with large rocks to even get them to budge.

  Feeling almost like his old self, minus the raging headache he was suffering through, Harr took the lead and padded to the base of the mountain.

  “You three can see at night better than I can…right?”

  “I can see decently, sir,” said Sandoo.

  “Me too,” said Hank.

  “Yes, sir,” said an ensign who they’d brought along.

  This ensign had opted for the red SSMC outfit instead of the blue, just like the one who’d traveled into the buildings with them earlier.

  Harr shrugged.

  “I shall count on you three to find us a path to our target.”

  They started up the mountain, moving swiftly in the night. Because they were on a world where everything was huge, the majority of branches were above their heads. They made quick work of the mountain until they heard an eerie sound.

  WHO!

  It was so loud that Harr thought his ears were going to pop. He dropped to the ground and slipped behind a tree. The others followed him.

  “What the heck was that?” he asked.

  The three androids scanned the area, looking up.

  WHO!

  Sandoo pointed. “It’s an owl, sir.”

  Harr squinted, trying to spot the thing, but it was simply too dark.

  “An owl?”

  WHO!

  “Yes, sir, and from the sounds of it, I think it wants to know who we are, sir.”

  “No, that’s just what owls say, Commander.”

  “Really?”

  “Yes.”

  WHO THE HELL IS THAT BEHIND THE TREE?

  “Are you certain about that, sir?”

  “Not any more,” said Harr in disbelief.

  BERNIE? IS THAT YOU?

  “Who ith Bernie?” asked Hank, which was surprising because Hank usually hid away when danger was around.

  Harr gave him a funny look. “How am I supposed to know?”

  “I don’t…never mind. Thorry.”

  “Okay, so the first thing we have to do is find out if this owl is dangerous.”

  BERNIE, IF THAT AIN’T YOU, SAY SOMETHING, WILL YA? I’M STARVING AND A LITTLE SNACK WOULD BE GOOD ABOUT NOW.

  “I guess that answers that.”

  “Sir,” said the red-shirted ensign.

  “Yes?”

  “I have an idea.”

  “Let’s hear it.”

  “I’ll run out and draw the owl’s eye while you and the rest of the crew slip past it.”

  Harr tilted his head. “And then what will you do?”

  “Hadn’t thought that far ahead, sir,” said the ensign, who then jumped out into the open and started waving his hands and yelling, “Hey owl thing…look at me, look at me!” He began running down the hill away from the crew.

  The leaves suddenly blew up from the ground as the giant owl flew past Harr and Sandoo.

  THE ARC

  “It’s a shame about Ensign…erm…” Harr looked at the other officers.

  “Ensign Patch, sir,” said Commander Sandoo.

  “Patch?”

  “Yes, sir. Ensign Dewey Patch.”

  “Hmmm,” said Sandoo. “Sounds like another one of Parfait’s inventions.”

  The two officers shrugged.

  “Right, well, that’s a shame. Grizzly way to go. We should offer a vigil or something in remembrance.”

  “Yes, sir.”

  “And one more thing, let’s take the red-shirted outfits out of rotation effective immediately.”

  “May I athk why, thir? I rather like the red thuit look.”

  “They just seem to be housing a bit of bad luck.” He then paused for a moment in silent reflection. It was a shame that he hadn’t even known the ensign’s name. Finally, he shrugged and asked, “How far are we from the ARC?”

  “Looks to be about twenty yards that way,” Sandoo said, pointing.

  “Well, hopefully we don’t run into any more owls, or worse. We’re out of ensigns.”

  “Yes, sir.”

  They jogged the twenty yards down the path until they came to a dimly lit cave. Standing at the mouth of the cave was a humanoid-looking robot. It was hardly adorned at all. Simple metal casing, no discernible facial features other than rounded eyes that looked more like antiquated camera lenses.

  Captain Harr moved up to it. “Hello?”

  It slowly turned its head.

  “Can you hear me?” said Harr.

  “Yes,” replied a digital voice. “Why are you in the mountains? It is forbidden.”

  “Oh, we’re not Merrymoonians.”

  “You aren’t? Are you certain?”

  “I’m 100% positive. Look how small we are.”

  “You could be children.”

  “True, but we’re not, so—”

  “How can I believe you?”

  “We’re Segnalians.”

  “Ah,” said the robot, nodding slowly. “You have finally come to rescue me. I have been here for many years.”

  “Sure, right, we’re here to rescue you.” Harr coughed. “Uh, listen, before we do that rescuing thing, though, we were wondering something. Are you the one they call Soenso?”

  “I do not wish to be rescued. I am happy here.”

  “Even better,” said Harr, smiling. “Still, though, are you Soenso?”

  “That’s the name they gave me.”

  “They?”

  “The Merrymoonians.”

  “Ah, right. That makes sense.” Harr paused. “Actually, no, it doesn’t make sense. Why did they call you that?”

  “Because they misunderstood my original words,” Soenso responded.

  “I see. How exactly did that happen?”

  “Let me show you.”

  Soenso turned around and walked to the side of the cave. Then a little light poured from his forehead and showed a video of his arrival those hundreds of years ago.

  The SSMC Voyeur was coming down from the sky. All of the Merrymoonians, who were mostly naked in the images, revealed that the females were indeed much better looking than the men. Also, it revealed that Ensign Jezden was probably twice as endowed as the average male Merrymoonian. Even around people twice their height, Jezden still had quite the, as he would put it, “dong.”

  In the video, one particular Merrymoonian stood out from the rest. He was smaller, more muscular, and he was carrying a whip. He turned and cracked the whip at the giants, causing them to move back from the incoming ship and cower in fear. When the little man had turned back, though, it was too late for him to move. The SSMC Voyeur landed directly on top of him. There was a slight scream that could be heard over the engines.

  Then the image showed ARC was lo
oking down. Two feet could be seen sticking out from underneath the ship. They twitched momentarily and then fell still.

  The engines silenced as ARC looked up at the Merrymoonians. They were looking down at the feet of the person under The Voyeur.

  Suddenly, they said, “Yep yep!” and then burped in unison. Harr noted that they didn’t even have any ale handy.

  “I am sorry,” ARC could be heard saying. “I did not mean to crush your friend.”

  They all looked at him funny.

  “He should have moved.”

  They were moving in closer and closer, craning their heads to the side.

  “It’s not my fault that he was…”

  All of them stopped.

  “So damn slow!”

  The giants looked around, searching each other’s faces, grunting and nodding all the while. As one, they turned back toward ARC, got on their knees, and started chanting, “So damn slow, so damn slow, so damn slow!” Well, that’s what they were trying to chant, anyway, what they were really saying was “So en so, so en so, so en so!”

  Soenso shut off the light and turned back toward Harr.

  “Hmmm,” said Harr. “What’s your real name, then?”

  “Bernie.”

  Harr nodded, half expecting that. “Well, Bernie, if you don’t want to come back with us, that’s fine.”

  “Really?”

  “Yes.”

  “That’s good news. I would have hated to have had my flock kill you all.”

  “Yes, and…sorry, what was that?”

  “It’s not that I’d wish them to do it,” said Bernie…or Soenso, as the case may be. “However, they would do it if I so ordered them to.”

  “Doesn’t that go against your programming?”