Platoon F: Pentalogy
Page 22
“But you are God.”
“I’m aware of this.”
“Shouldn’t you already know how the vessel will perform?”
“Shit,” said Geezer.
“What?” said Supreme Admiral Slaroop.
“I said, uh, ship. I do not condone the use of the word vessel.”
“Oh, sorry.”
“Tell her not to question you,” whispered Harr.
“Do you dare question me…what’s your name again?”
“I’m Supreme Admiral Slaroop, My Lord,” she said and then squinted. “Shouldn’t you know that?”
“Another question of my authority and knowledge? How dare you! Shall I spill my wrath upon the inhabitants because of your insolence? Will that demonstrate enough to prove that I am your God?”
Fortunately, she looked down immediately. “Sorry, My Lord.”
“Now, I have spoken. I wish to take this ship for a spin around the planet. If I deem that it is worthy to carry My Word, then we will begin mass replication; if I determine that it is not, then we shall destroy this ship and kill everyone on board.”
“Going a little overboard, aren’t you?” said Harr.
“Dare you speak to me in that way?”
“I didn’t say anything, My Lord,” said Supreme Admiral Slaroop.
“Hmmm?” said Geezer. “Oh, no, not you. Sorry. I was talking to honcho here.”
“Honcho?” Slaroop asked.
“Oh…I…uh…dare you question my use of the word honcho?”
“Sorry, My Lord.”
Harr was shaking his head. Through gritted teeth, he whispered, “Wrap it up, you idiot. Get them to take off the ElectroMag and let’s get the hell out of here.”
“Huh? Oh, yeah, right. You will remove the ElectroMag so that I may test this ship to see if it is worthy for My purposes.”
“As you command, My Lord,” said Slaroop. Then she snapped her fingers and the guards that were near the ElectroMag set to removing it. “Are there any other commands, My Lord?”
“Uh…yes. I forbid you to eat cheese on the third Wednesday of each month.”
“What are you doing?” whispered Harr.
“I’m trying to be god-like,” answered Geezer in a whisper of his own.
“No cheese on the third Wednesday of each month,” chorused the crowd.
Geezer stood a little taller as Harr scanned the masses that were hanging on his Chief Engineer’s every word.
“You shall knock yourselves in the head with a plank of wood every morning. Not hard enough to do damage, but hard enough to remind you that I’m your God.”
“We shall knock ourselves with a plank of wood.”
There was a figure in the distance that looked to be different than the rest. Harr’s vision wasn’t what it used to be, but this thing looked familiar.
“You shall hop on one foot, three times a day.”
“We shall hop on one foot, three times a day.”
“Uh, God?” asked a Merrymoonian that looked like Stevey.
“Yes?”
“Do we gotta hop on dat one foot at any special time or just whenever we want?”
“Good question,” Geezer said, pointing at Stevey. “Once in the morning, once after lunch…no, before lunch, wouldn’t want you to upset your stomachs, and then once before bedtime.”
“Thanks, God.”
“You’re welcome,” said Geezer. “Oh, and since you asked such a good question, I want you to be promoted.”
“Wow! Thanks!”
“You bet.”
Sure enough, that figure was familiar. It was Bernie, the ARC robot, the real God of the Merrymoonians, and he was walking toward the ship.
“Wrap it up,” whispered Harr.
“I also declare that every Monday will be a holy day,” began Geezer.
“Wrap it up,” Harr whispered more forcefully.
“Monday is a holy day,” chorused the crowd.
“I’m getting tired of you yelling at me,” Geezer whispered back. “I’m a goddamn God, after all.”
“Their real God is walking over here, you idiot.”
Geezer looked around, whispered, “shit,” and then said more loudly. “Well, gotta go. Will be back shortly!”
GONE AGAIN
The moment the doors closed, Harr yelled out for them to slap the button on the GONE Drive.
“Won’t work, Cap’n,” said Geezer as they moved toward engineering. “Its charge is too low.”
“Then get us off the ground.”
“Should be able to do that,” Geezer said as they rounded the corner. “The charge comes back pretty fast on the main systems. Nope, only at 45%. Need to be at 60%.”
Harr tapped his comm. “Attention everyone. Shut down all unnecessary systems. Everything not needed goes off. Now!”
Systems shut down left and right until the engines read 65%.
Harr spoke into the comm again, “Get us out of here, Lieutenant Laasel.”
“Yes, sir,” came the reply and the familiar feel of the ship moving buzzed under Harr’s feet.
“We’ve taken on extra weight, sir,” Commander Sandoo said through the comm.
Harr flipped open his pad and checked the cameras. Bernie was standing next to Supreme Admiral Slaroop and he was pointing vehemently toward The SSMC Reluctant. Twisting the camera this way and that, Harr saw that there were about 10 Merrymoonians hanging onto The Reluctant in one fashion or another. The ship was about 30 feet off the ground at this point.
“Lieutenant, shake those idiots off my ship, please.”
“Affirmative, sir.”
The Reluctanct started rocking back and forth, dropping each of the Merrymoonians until the ship was free of them.
Harr felt a sigh of relief until Geezer said, “Uh, honcho, they’re setting up ground-to-air missiles.”
“Shields up!”
“Shields are up, sir,” affirmed Sandoo.
“Get us out of here!”
“Leaving the planet, sir,” Lieutenant Laasel replied.
“We’ll never make it,” Geezer pointed out. “Once they launch those missiles, they’ll track us.”
“Our shields—”
“Can take maybe five hits, if we’re lucky.”
“Sir,” said Sandoo. “It looks like they’re powering up their mini-ships, too.”
Speaking of miniature ships, the model of The Reluctant appeared momentarily on Geezer’s desk.
“Did you see that, chief?”
Harr nodded.
“Damnedest thing. Keeps happening for some reason.”
“Look, even if we survive the missiles,” said Harr, licking his lips anxiously, “the Merrymoonian ships will get us because our shields will be shot, right?”
“Yep,” said Geezer. “Their weapons wouldn’t bother us at full shields, but…well, yeah.”
“Then we have to use the GONE Drive.”
“It’s only at 40%, honcho.”
Harr stood straight up, looking fierce. “Then, Mr. Geezer, I suggest that you hook yourself back up to the damn thing and act as its replacement battery!”
Geezer stared blankly for a moment. “Oh, yeah, I suppose I could do that again. But it’ll just kill me like it did last time.”
“I know how to bring you back,” stated Harr. “I’ve done it once, I can do it again.”
“Missiles inbound, sir,” Commander Sandoo said through the comm.
“Shit,” said Geezer, quickly connecting the wires. “One second I’m a God and the next I’m a goddamn battery.”
“Impact in 10 seconds, sir.”
“No counting this time, Geezer.”
“Yeah, yeah, yeah.”
He hit the button.
REPORTING IN
Segnal Prime had never looked so beautiful as it did at that moment. Captain Harr stood on the bridge of The SSMC Reluctant, looking out through the view screen as his crew busily prepared for docking with Station 119M.
“Ensign
Jezden,” Harr said, “I know it’s against your protocol, but I want all of the video, audio, and any damned thing associated to the Merrymoonians to be deleted. Completely.”
“Sir, I already explained—”
“If you don’t,” Harr interrupted, “then I will take personal pleasure in contacting one of the adult film industry executives, setting up a meeting with her, and handing her your personal video data, which, yes, I can attain through the very fact that you, as an android, must consistently be in a state of recording.”
“My personal video, sir?”
“Remember that little incident with you and the Merrymoonian women?”
Jezden got a sudden look of horror. “But, sir, that would destroy my reputation.”
“Do we have a deal, then?”
“Consider it done, sir.”
“All androids must be wiped clear, Ensign.”
“Oh, you can bet they will be, sir.”
“Don’t erase the turtles, the black hole, or that farmer, though. As much as I hate keeping that data, it’ll be our only saving grace in the eyes of Rear Admiral Conster.”
“Yes, sir.”
* * *
“So you’re telling me there wasn’t a goddamn thing on that planet when you arrived?” said Conster as Harr stood at attention in his office.
“Wasn’t even a planet left, sir. There was debris that made us believe that the planet was, uh, destroyed somehow.”
“Then what’s all this other footage?”
“Those were attained as part of the GONE Drive, sir. We ended up in multiple places that were not our intended destination until we arrived at Merry…erm…the missing planet, sir.”
“I see,” said Conster, stroking his chin. “This GONE Drive of yours, Captain Harr, it’s exactly the kind of thing the SSMC needs in order to rule the galaxy. We wouldn’t even need a ship. Simply affix one of those drives to a missile and transport them to any planet we want.”
“Brilliant, sir,” Harr thought as he made a mental note to ensure that the GONE Drive’s blueprint never got into the hands of Rear Admiral Conster.
“Why do you suppose the farmer dropped his pants, Captain?”
“I believe that’s a question better suited for Rear Admiral Parfait, sir.”
“Probably.” Conster stood up. “Well, Captain, I have enough data to go on here in order to report up the chain. I can’t say you and your crew did a very good job, though. A bunch of idiots, all of you.”
“Yes, sir.”
“You should have arrived at a planet that was intact, Captain. That way you could have blown it up.”
“Sorry, sir. We’ll endeavor to improve.”
“See that you do, Captain. See that you do!”
* * *
Harr left Conster’s office, feeling as though he could use a bit of a vacation.
“Captain Harr,” said the voice of Rear Admiral Parfait, who was walking down the hallway. He was wearing tight shorts, a loosely-hanging button-up shirt that was pinkish in color with designs of palm trees on it, a straw hat that sported a wide brim, and a pair of sunglasses. “It’s great to be back.”
“Hello, Rear Admiral Parfait,” Harr said with a bit of a groan. “Good to have you back, sir.” At least in comparison to Conster, that much was true. “Did you have a nice vacation, sir?”
“It was delightful, Captain,” answered Parfait. “I went to Fantasy Planet.”
“Oh?”
“Yes, there’s a little fellow that yells out Da Ship, Da Ship whenever new ships arrive. It’s rather adorable.”
“That’s nice, sir.”
“Ever been?”
“No, sir. Can’t say that I have.”
“Did you know that you can live out any fantasy you want there?”
“That’s nice, sir.”
“Yes, anything at all.” Parfait looked off into the distance. “You were really something, too, Captain Harr. Really something.”
“Sorry, sir?” Harr said, confused.
“Hmmm? Oh, nothing, nothing. Just, uh…really something.”
“Sir?”
“I…uh…how was your mission with Rear Admiral Conster?”
“It was interesting, sir. There is video footage in your files.”
“I see,” said Parfait. “Anything worthy of watching, Captain?”
Against his better judgment, but fueled by the deep desire to get away from the offices of the brass, specifically Conster and Parfait, Harr took a deep breath and said, “Nothing of note, sir. Just a farmer on some remote planet that took his pants down, bent over, and spread his buttocks.”
Parfait’s face blanched. “I should study these files immediately!”
“I figured as much, sir,” said Harr as Parfait ran off to his office.
Harr stepped into the lift and pressed the button, wondering what could possibly happen to the crew of Platoon F next.
Mission 4 from the files of
Platoon F
THE MISSION
Rear Admiral Parfait stood on the bridge of The SSMC Reluctant. The crew were still on leave, but the officers had been called back to the ship because Parfait had new orders for Platoon F.
“Ah,” said the Rear Admiral, taking a quick sniff, “nothing like the dank smell of old ships. The new models are very plastic-scented. They don’t soak in the sweat and pheromones like The Reluctant does.”
Captain Harr went somewhat mentally numb whenever the Rear Admiral went off on one of his tangents. This, sadly, happened quite often.
The Rear Admiral glanced around appraisingly, closing his mouth and breathing in deeply through his nose. A bit of a grin was on his face.
“Back in my day, we would be huddled together waiting for battle.” He paused and looked serious for a moment. “Battles were pretty common back then, you know. Always skirmishes, especially along the border.” He looked down. “Those were the days, let me tell you. The camaraderie of men standing shoulder to shoulder, or front to back, in some instances, ready to fight. Muscles twitching. Thoughts racing. The feeling of fear mixed with elation. Rubbing each other’s shoulders to help calm the tension. Sometimes finding other ways to—”
“Sir,” said Captain Harr before things got out of hand, “sorry to interrupt, but you brought us here because we have orders?”
“Hmmm? Oh, yes, yes. Right. Sorry, it’s just this ship…this wonderful ship brings back memories.”
He started to get that look again, so Harr jumped in quick with, “I’m sure it does, sir. The orders please?”
“Right, right. Of course. You’re a stickler for protocol, Captain Harr. I like that. We once had a CO that would make us—”
“Orders, sir?”
“Yes, right,” said Parfait, shaking his head as if to wake himself up. “We have been studying the video data that your team retrieved during your last mission and we have reason to believe that further investigation is needed for one of your destinations.”
Harr recalled the mission well. It was supposed to have been a 50 year trek to their destination, but his chief engineer, a robot named Geezer who was appropriately from the G.3.3.Z.3.R. series, had built a piece of technology that allowed for instantaneous travel to anywhere in the universe.
It worked on the Tagooky/Bweeks theory of particle displacement, plus a number of words that Geezer had clearly invented out of thin air. The chief engineer named the device the G.3.3.Z.3.R. Optimal Neutrino Escape Drive, or, more succinctly, the GONE Drive. The name was completely non-representative of how the device actually worked, but, as Geezer had put it, the name represented an acronym that included his name while also having a nice ring to it.
The Segnal Space Marine Corps was so impressed with this technology that they had even considered outfitting all SSMC ships with the drive. However, once they realized that they would have to also include propulsion on each ship as a back-up measure, they nixed the plan.
Impressive or not, the device had a major problem. It had been or
iginally built under the premise that there were only two points that identical particles could be located at during any given time. This turned out to be untrue. The reality was there were multitudes of identical particles all over the universe.
Because of this, The SSMC Reluctant had jumped to three places before finally hitting their proper destination on the fourth try.
“Would that be studying the black hole that we transported to, sir?”
“Black hole? You found a black hole?”
“Yes, sir, it was in the video feed, sir.”
“Hmmm…I don’t recall that,” Parfait said, pursing his lips. “Well, no, that’s not the location, Captain.”
“The giant turtle-looking things, then, sir?”
“Are you sure we’re talking about the same video, Captain?”
“Yes, sir,” said Harr, confusedly. “The video that we provided included three distinct locations.” Actually, there were supposed to have been four locations, but Harr had commanded that the feed regarding their real destination be deleted for reasons that can be found detailed in the mission files for The SSMC Voyeur.
“Three?”
“Yes, sir. There was the black hole that we had nearly been pulled into; there were the giant turtle-like objects, that weren’t really turtles, of course, but just looked like them; and then there was the planet where the farmer had approached our ship, dropped his pants, turned around, spread his buttocks, and…” Harr stopped, noting the look of interest on Parfait’s face. “That’s it, then, sir? We’re going to explore the planet with the farmer, aren’t we?”
“Precisely so,” said Parfait with a grin. “It’s the planet that my team has been calling Earth.”
“Oh?”
“Just another name for dirt or ground. We thought it better to call them Earthlings than Dirtlings, but, of course, we’ll change that when we find out what they call themselves.”
“Is there some militaristic or diplomatic reason for this mission, sir?”
“I’m sure there is,” Parfait replied, thoughtfully. “We should always endeavor to learn what we can about other cultures, no?”