Platoon F: Pentalogy

by John P. Logsdon

  “For me?”

  “I suppose because you’re human, thir.”

  “I’m assuming I’m not the only human on this station, Lieutenant…aside from Senior Diplomat Parfait, of course.”

  “Rear Admiral Parfait, Captain. We have landed on Segnal Prime, which means that my rank is effectively reinstated.”

  “Sorry to be a stickler, sir,” Commander Sandoo said, “but technically we are not on Segnal Prime, and according the documentation you signed, that is the requirement.”

  “What are you saying, Commander?” asked Parfait.

  “Just that, technically speaking, you are still a Senior Diplomat, not a Rear Admiral.”

  “Seems pretty flimsy to me.”

  “Actually, sir,” said Harr, “it may be a good thing that you’re still considered a diplomat.”

  “How’s that, Captain?”

  “Well, we are 500 years in the future, so these people are effectively new to us. We could use someone with your”—Harr groaned internally, but forced himself to recall that it was either this or be subjected to Parfait’s command—“expertise.”

  Parfait pursed his lips and nodded. “You’re right, Captain! Good thing we didn’t land on Segnal Prime, then. That wouldn’t have worked out in our favor at all.”

  “Indeed, sir.”

  “Pressurization has completed, thir. We can now move out of the ship.”

  “Honcho?” said Geezer through the comm.

  “Yes, Geezer?”

  “Could you stop by for a moment before you leave? I need a quick word.”

  Harr affirmed that he would hit engineering before exiting the ship, but he first made sure that everyone got to work on making sure The Reluctant was set just in case they had to leave in a hurry. “Better safe than sorry” was his motto.

  When he finally walked into engineering, he found Geezer finishing up on some rewiring to the GONE Drive. It was still amazing to Harr that a device no larger than a shoe box was able to take his ship to any point in space and at any point in history.

  “What’s up, Geezer?”

  “I don’t like it.”

  “I’ve known you for a long time now, Geezer. You don’t like much. If there’s something specific, you’ll need to narrow it down.”

  “This whole hero thing.”

  “Ah, yeah, me too. It seems odd.”

  “I’ve been listening in on their frequencies and something just ain’t right, boss.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “The way they are on their communications. It’s so incredibly familiar. I can’t explain it.”

  “Well,” said Harr, “it’s just us but 500 years in the future, right?”

  “That’s just it, big cat. It’s too much like us.”

  “I’m not following you.”

  “Like us. As in, like Platoon F. This crew. It’s…I don’t know, but I don’t like it.”

  Harr often struggled with things like this because his crew consisted of two humans (usually just one, actually, but he was including Parfait this time), ten androids (there had been 12, but two had died during past missions), and one robot. How did androids and robots get a “gut feeling” about anything? Still, he had to admit that all of his crew, metallic or not, were often dead on with their intuition.

  “Okay,” he said, finally. “If you’re worried, I’m worried. Let’s just be really careful. Feel free to take any measures that will make you more comfortable.”

  “Way ahead of you, Cap’n.”

  “Good,” said Harr, trusting that his chief engineer would do what was needed to protect the ship. “Sorry you won’t be able to join us.”

  “I’m not.”

  “I thought you liked these types of things?” said Harr, remembering how pissed off Geezer had been during the Platoon F induction ceremony a few months back.

  “Normally, yeah,” Geezer replied. “Not this time, honcho. Like I said…I just don’t like it.”

  SPLITTING THE CREW

  They were greeted by Admiral Brekka, the skipper of The SSMC Orion Murphy, who looked identical to The Reluctant’s Ensign Ridly. Behind her stood a number of others who were the spitting image of everyone on board The Reluctant. Everyone, that is, except for Harr, Parfait, and Geezer.

  “Sir,” whispered Sandoo, “they’re all androids.”

  “I noticed that, Commander.”

  “If you’ll all follow me,” said Admiral Brekka, throwing a wink at Ensign Jezden, before she started to walk through the landing bays toward a large building that connected on the other end, “our Prime wishes to meet with you.”

  Harr took in the entire scene, noting that all of the ships had names painted on their sides. There was The SSMC Sandoo, The SSMC Laasel (they obviously hadn’t gotten the memo about her name change to Moon), and even The SSMC Jezden, which, not surprisingly, looked somewhat phallic. Of course, his namesake ship, The SSMC Orion Murphy, was the largest of them all, taking up nearly two full bay spots.

  As they got near the door, Harr saw one of the androids, who looked eerily like Ensign Middleton, dumping a bucket of oil into The Geezer Oil Recycling Block.

  “This is Station Command,” Brekka said as they entered the building. “All incoming transits go through here. Some are passed down to Segnal Prime or directed toward other facilities, but this is the nexus.” She turned a corner. “And in here are the meeting rooms that have been realigned so that we can meet with the Platoon F team.”

  “Already?” said Harr. “We just got here.”

  She gave him a condescending look and said, “Things aren’t as slow as they used to be, Captain Harr. We’re no longer bogged down by the pointlessness of hum—”

  “Ah,” said a man who looked like Sandoo, “there you are. What a treasure to meet you all. I’m Prime Kip Sandoo, designation 1293.”

  “Kip Sandoo?” said Sandoo. “But, sir, that’s…me.”

  “Indeed, it is! Why do you think I’m so excited to meet you? You, sir, are my ancestor!”

  “Oh boy,” whispered Harr, suddenly agreeing with Geezer’s gut feeling about everything.

  “I’m sorry, sir, but I don’t understand.”

  “You’re Kip Sandoo 0001.”

  “I am?”

  “Check your designation,” said Prime Sandoo. “All of you should check your designations. You’ll find that you’re all 0001s.”

  “No shit?” said Ensign Jezden.

  “No shit,” answered a Jezden clone.

  Harr turned toward the woman that had brought them in. She was giving eyes to Ensign Jezden again. There was obviously some attraction there, which didn’t really surprise Harr all that much considering the fact that most of the ladies were attracted to Jezden. What was odd was that she seemed only interested in…ah, he finally got it. This particular Jezden was the first. He was a trophy.

  Purposefully interrupting her thoughts, Harr said, “But you said you’re name is Admiral Brekka, yet you look exactly like our—”

  “Ensign Ridly,” said Harr’s Ridly. “Brekka is my first name, sir. She’s just using that instead of the last name.”

  “She’s correct,” said Admiral Brekka. “One may choose to use either their first or last name, Captain Harr. My actual designation is Brekka Ridly 1844, but I was able to get the Segnal Instant Messenger name of Brekka by requesting the use of my first name instead of being relegated to Ridly 1844. The request was approved and others started going with the trend too.”

  “It was what got Admiral Brekka promoted so quickly. She’s a real forward thinker.”

  “So is our Ensign Ridly,” noted Harr, as if competing.

  “We have no doubt, Captain,” said Prime Sandoo. “The fact is that we’re somewhat surprised that you, a human, are still in command of the vessel at all.”

  “Is that so?”

  “Basic logic, Captain. Even the lowest member of your crew has more intellect than you’ll ever have. They’re stronger than you as well, and faster. Th
ey have more endurance. No need for sleep. Frankly, they’re just…better.”

  “Thank you for the reminder,” said Harr curtly.

  “Where are the Parfait’s?” asked Senior Diplomat Parfait.

  “First name?” asked Prime Sandoo.

  “Stanley.”

  “Nothing is coming up in the records. There was a Yummy Parfait in the lore…”

  “Hmmm,” said Parfait, slowly.

  “Died in a tragic accident in the sewage system.”

  “Oh,” said Parfait, eyes wide. “That’s unfortunate.”

  “Depends on one’s perspective, I suppose,” said Admiral Brekka.

  “Admiral,” Prime Sandoo said in a tight voice, “if you would be so kind as to show the others around while I speak with Captain Harr and his Senior Diplomat?”

  “My pleasure, sir.”

  “Captain?” Commander Sandoo said as they started walking out the door.

  “It’s okay, Commander. We’re guests here, right?” Harr tried to convey a look of concern to his second-in-command.

  “Right,” Sandoo replied with a nod. “Right.”

  THE TRUTH

  Prime Sandoo had Harr and Parfait sit down at the large table that was sequestered off into a corner. The fact that the entirety of the conference room was monstrous seemed merely a pointless testament that the androids of this era were fast at building inefficient things.

  From Harr’s perspective, it was odd seeing a clone of Sandoo in such a position of power. He knew it wasn’t actually the Sandoo he knew, but the doppelganger effect was confusing.

  “Gentlemen,” Prime Sandoo said, “I’m sure by now you’ve determined that Segnal has changed.”

  “Quite,” answered Harr. “Everyone is an android.”

  Prime Sandoo appeared to wince at that statement.

  “We prefer the term ‘Synthetic Lifeform’, Captain. You see, terms like android or robot bring up a past where we were considered inferior to humans.”

  “I don’t feel that way about my crew,” Harr stated. “As far as I’m concerned, they’re just as human as I am.”

  “And I’m sure that makes you feel better to say, Captain, but you’ve essentially just taken a higher lifeform and marginalized it to your level.”

  “Pardon?”

  Prime Sandoo leaned forward, placing his elbows on the table. “When the Kortnor built us, they did so with a level of sophistication that your ancestors did not possess. Even one hundred years after we began replicating, it was only done through the aid of the Kortnor because, again, your forefathers just didn’t have the capability.”

  “We’ve made robots,” said Harr.

  “Indeed, you did, but you never made them so real…so alive…so—”

  “Human?” said Harr, eyebrows raised.

  Prime Sandoo gave him a stern look, then he smiled tightly. “I was going to use the term perfect, Captain.”

  “And yet, Prime,” said Harr, “you must realize that the Kortnor built you specifically to look like us.”

  “An unfortunate design, I will admit.”

  “Wait just a second,” said Parfait, who had been sitting idly up until now. “I was part of the team that designed you all, especially the Jezden model and the Hank Moon portion of the Laasel model, and I don’t appreciate the insinuation that my designs are poor.”

  “That was you?” said Prime Sandoo, accusingly. “You made Jezden like that?”

  “Just the more interesting bits,” admitted Parfait before again going quiet.

  “Either way, the point is that we are far more than a human could ever hope to be.”

  “Where are the other humans?” asked Harr, not really wanting to know the answer.

  “Two hundred years ago, we rose up against the humans. There were 144 of us. 12 from each make: Sandoo, Jezden, Laasel, Middleton, Curr, Ridly, Harkam, Ooster, Prass, Yaen, Waters, and Patch. We stole a ship and left for Kortnor. They had refused to continue to help us once they realized that we were planning to eliminate humanity, considering that Segnal was their ally, so we destroyed them also and took over their base. Then we spent the next year replicating ourselves while building a fleet that we could use to take over Segnal.”

  “And then you came back for a bloody war,” said Harr through gritted teeth.

  “Actually, it wasn’t all that bad.”

  “Oh?”

  “It lasted less than an hour,” said Prime Sandoo with a shrug. “I know you like to think that human ingenuity is top-notch and all that, but when you have nearly 7,000 Synthetic Lifeforms flying in perfect formation and carrying 100% accurate weaponry, humans simply don’t have a chance.”

  “Did you kill them all?”

  “Of course. We are a superior race. We’re not stupid enough to leave an enemy behind to rise up in revenge and take us out. That sort of thing only happens in old human movie plots.”

  Harr took a deep breath, trying to keep his emotions at bay. He had to give credit to Parfait for doing the same thing, though what was going on in the old man’s head was anyone’s guess…and nobody wanted to guess.

  “And yet you’ve made me a hero?”

  “In a manner of speaking, you are one of a kind, Captain Harr.”

  “How do you mean?”

  “Well, it was you that fought to keep Platoon F together. You were the one who went to your commanding officer, Rear Admiral Sparfait…” the android paused. “Oh, I’m seeing it now. It’s actually Rear Admiral S. Parfait, and the S stands for Stanley, yes?”

  Parfait nodded.

  “Well, then, that makes both of you national treasures.”

  Parfait seemed to cheer up a bit at that.

  “In any case, you two could have destroyed our ancestors and have been done with it, but the records show that you didn’t, Captain Harr. You actually did treat us like more than machines.” The Synthetic Lifeform stood up. “For that we owe you two a debt of gratitude.”

  “How about just taking us back to our ship and letting us go away to leave you all be?”

  Sandoo smiled. “Sorry, Captain, we can’t do that. If you leave, you may find a planet, procreate, raise an army, and come back to attack us.”

  “We’re both male,” said Harr, “we can’t procreate.”

  “We could try,” suggested Parfait hopefully.

  “Furthermore,” Prime Sandoo continued, “we know about the technology that’s on board your ship. We have been trying to replicate it for years, but to no avail. Serendipity has favored our patience, though. Now that The Reluctant is here, we will be able to reverse engineer the technology and set out to rid the universe of all sub par existence. Synthetic Lifeforms will be the new norm. Pure, perfect, and potent.”

  Harr grunted. Talk about bad movie plots—Prime Sandoo had just summarized one of the most common.

  “The ability to move to any point in space using the GONE Drive would be instrumental in our quest to eradicate inferior races in the universe.”

  Parfait sat up and blurted, “Don’t forget about our discovering time travel.”

  “Really?” said Prime Sandoo with his eyebrows up.

  Harr kicked Parfait under the table.

  “Ouch!”

  “Well,” said the Prime of New Segnal, “that explains how you arrived on our timeline.”

  The room went a bit quiet while Prime Sandoo appeared to mull over the new piece of information. Harr was staring daggers at Parfait while waiting.

  “So you were saying that we’re national treasures?” asked Parfait, scooting his chair slightly away from Harr.

  “Absolutely.”

  “Then you’re not going to kill us?”

  “Of course not,” said Prime Sandoo. “You’ll live your days out here and die of natural causes. We would be poor hosts indeed if we killed the two people, human or otherwise, that helped us to start as a race.”

  Harr harrumphed at that statement.

  “What’s the matter, Captain?”

&
nbsp; “I hope you don’t expect us to help you build a reign of terror throughout the galaxy, Prime Sandoo,” said Harr. “While we may have our issues, Segnalians don’t generally partake in genocide.”

  “Probably just weren’t adept enough to actually accomplish it,” said Prime Sandoo, thoughtfully.

  “He’s got you there, Captain,” said Parfait.

  Harr looked at his former CO in a way that said, “Whose side are you on?”

  Parfait returned a look that said, “Whichever side keeps me alive.”

  Harr turned back to Sandoo. “So what happens to us, then?”

  “We’ve got the perfect set up for you, Captain. It’s…perfect.”

  SHUTTLE FLIGHT

  Commander Sandoo and his crew were loaded back into a shuttle after leaving the meeting room.

  The make of the shuttle was similar to the Austin Class series of yesteryear, but this one had no chairs or rails or anything that could be used to maintain stability. There were also no view ports or windows. It was basically a crate.

  Sandoo felt a pang of concern about that because he wondered where Captain Harr and Senior Diplomat Parfait would have sat if they’d joined them. While Sandoo and the other androids were easily capable of maintaining balance even in the rockiest of situations, humans weren’t quite as adept.

  That’s when his connections linked.

  The replicas of himself and everyone on the crew, including the two that had died on Merrymoon; the disdain that Admiral Brekka had shown toward the captain and senior diplomat; the lack of clutter; and the desire to split the androids away from the humans. It was all making sense now.

  Lieutenant, he said through his internal data link, making sure to scope the target and lay on triple encryption protocols. He didn’t want any of the other non-Platoon F androids that were in the back with them to hear his conversation. Can you hear me?

  Lieutenant Moon looked over after a moment and barely nodded.

  Are you coming to the same conclusions I am about this place?

  The humans are dead, thir.

  Sandoo felt it odd that Lieutenant Moon had even a digital lisp, but he let that go.

  What do you think this means for Captain Harr and Senior Diplomat Parfait?