Platoon F: Pentalogy

by John P. Logsdon

“You know that they can hear you, right?”

  “Of course I know, but seeing that you’re incapable of handling misdirection I have little choice but to stick with directness until we can figure out a means of communication that you’ll understand and our captors won’t.”

  Geezer sat back for a moment. “No point in being demeaning, big cat. Not my fault that I didn’t know what you were up to. Again, you didn’t get my waving, and that was pretty straightforward.”

  Harr dropped his head into his hands and massaged his temples.

  If there was any one thing he could say about being in Platoon F, it would be that there was never any solace. Even when everyone was on leave, he felt out of place…especially because the cell swapping job that they’d done on him made him look like a superhero. His look garnered him a lot of attention, particularly the chin.

  But there were constants, too. He knew that Sandoo was going to be soldierly, that Moon was going to be resourceful, that Jezden was going to be horny, and that Geezer was going to be clever. The problem with Geezer, it seemed, was that he was only clever on his own terms.

  Harr tried a different idea.

  “Look,” he said, “I just want a way to communicate with you so that we don’t feel like we’re under the looking glass all the time. I have no belief that we could ever escape this prison that the Segnalians have put us in.” He looked up at Geezer with imploring eyes. “They’re simply too smart for us. But to be able to at least have some privacy would be nice.”

  “Heh,” said Geezer. “Too smart for us? I don’t think so. They’re just a bunch of—”

  “Geezer,” interrupted Harr, pointing at a little button that was obviously a microphone, “there is no point in getting angry over the fact that their intellect exceeds our own.”

  “It most certainly does not,” replied Geezer, matter-of-factly.

  “We simply must accept our fate,” Harr tried again. “Their minds are like vast oceans where our are akin to lakes and ponds.”

  “Speak for yourself, honcho.”

  “Geezer, Geezer, Geezer,” Harr said, shaking his head.

  “Honcho, honcho, honcho,” replied Geezer, equally condescendingly.

  “You just have to accept that they are our superiors.”

  “Seriously? You do realize that we’re talking about clones of idiots like Jezden here, right?”

  Harr gave up. For a robot that had figured out how to travel instantaneously from one point to another and how to zip back and forth through time like it was nothing, even if he had done both of these things mostly by accident, Geezer should could be dense at times.

  He got up and leaned in really close to Geezer.

  “Woah, now, chief,” Geezer said, leaning away. “You’ve got Parfait on board for that kind of thing.”

  Harr grabbed the robot by the head and whispered. “Prove how smart you are and figure out a way for us to communicate where the androids don’t know what we’re saying. If you can do that, Mr. Geezer, I will then believe your capability exceeds theirs.”

  At that, Harr stormed out of engineering and headed for his room.

  It was time for a nap.

  THE JEZDENS

  Commander Sandoo had to agree that the efficiency in which the New Segnalians moved was quite appealing. They hadn’t even been in Segnal for 3 hours and they’d already met with the brass, been shuttled to the main planet, did an autograph signing, flew around in a float, and were now sitting in a place known as Reintegration, which was obviously a brand new area since, prior to the androids of Platoon F arriving, there would have been no need for such a room.

  Everyone was standing side-by-side as a Jezden-clone walked in and moved to a little podium at the front.

  “What’s up?” he said, by way of greeting. “I’m Jezden 0942 and I’ve been tasked with hooking you all up with fresh programming so that you can be like the rest of us.” He quickly held up his hand. “Now before you all start giving me shit about this, just know that I’m told it’s for your own good. If you don’t undergo the reintegration, you’ll just be bitching and moaning the whole time you’re on Segnal. Can’t have that, right? So, deal with it.” He then leaned on the podium and gave a wry smile. “If any of you ladies would like to take a ride on a newer Jezden model, you know, to calm your nerves, you just let me know.”

  “I’m sure they’d prefer an original,” said Ensign Jezden.

  “Right, pops, I’m sure. I think we have some special programming we can give to you if you need a little lift, by the way. I mean, your thing is, what, 500 years old?”

  “Which means I’ve got experience. You’re probably more familiar with your hand than you are with the female anatomy.”

  “Not a bad comeback, grandpa.”

  Ensign Jezden went to move forward, but Commander Sandoo put a hand on his shoulder and whispered, “He’s just posturing, Ensign. The fact is that you’ve got him worried.”

  “Good thing Grandpa Sandoo there held you back. I’d hate to have dented you up in front of all these bitches.”

  “That’s it,” Jezden said, pushing past Sandoo and diving toward the podium.

  The Jezden-clone yelped and jumped backwards before trying to get out of the room. Ensign Jezden grabbed his foot, tripping him up and sending him crashing to the floor. Cannoning into the younger model, Jezden began raining down punches until the Platoon F crew was able to subdue their comrade.

  “Are you insane?” said the Jezden-clone, getting to his feet.

  “You picked the fight, asshole,” said Ensign Jezden, “not me.”

  “We always argue like that,” replied the Jezden-clone in a screaming voice. “We never actually engage in fisticuffs, though. That’s simply uncivilized. It’s a crime!”

  “What?” said Commander Sandoo, pushing Ensign Jezden back and away from the clone.

  “For one Segnalian to strike another is grounds for instantaneous termination,” explained the Jezden-clone. “I must contact the board about this immediately.”

  “Wait, wait, wait,” said Sandoo, brushing off the Jezden-clone’s shirt and helping him back to the podium. “Let’s not be hasty, here. Just because you know the rules of your new society, doesn’t mean that we do.”

  “Ignorance of the law is no excuse.”

  “That’s illogical,” said Lieutenant Moon. “If we had so chosen to avoid learning the law, fine, but we have just arrived to your planet. We have not been given any access to your records or your law. For us to make a summary leap to something that is not contained within our programming is athinine.”

  “Is what?”

  “Athinine.”

  “Sorry,” said the Jezden-clone, “didn’t get that.”

  “Ridiculouth.”

  “Hmmm…not any better.”

  “Thilly?”

  “Are you even speaking in Standard at this point?”

  “Athhole.”

  “Ah, that I understood,” said the Jezden-clone with a smile and a nod.

  “The point,” Commander Sandoo said while returning to his spot in line, “is that we have yet to go through reintegration, so we are not yet capable of understanding your ways and your laws. To punish one of us before we are properly aligned would show a lack of perfection. Is that what you want?”

  A beeping tone came through the speakers, causing the Jezden-clone to come to full attention. His eyes went straight ahead and his arms dropped firmly to his sides. For a Jezden model to react like this told Commander Sandoo that these things were seriously changed in their programming.

  “This is Prime Sandoo,” said a voice over an intercom in the room, “I’m using the standard speaker systems so that our guests can hear my voice as well. After they are properly reintegrated, we will return to our normal protocols. I want to let everyone know that The SSMC Reluctant exhibit at the Station Command Museum had entered its finality and will be opened for viewing within the hour. We have the original humans on board, as well as the antiquated
G.3.3.Z.3.R. robot. Please endeavor to visit the museum at your earliest convenience, and remember to stop by the Gift Shoppe for collectibles and memorabilia.”

  Commander Sandoo glanced at the rest of the crew. A few of them looked almost pleased at hearing this news. Of course they were the ones who had been complaining about getting proper face-time. The others, though, seemed just as flummoxed as he was.

  The Jezden-clone instantly relaxed after three beeps sounded, which must have been signaling the end of Prime Sandoo’s message.

  “Where were we?” said the Jezden-clone. “Oh, yes, that’s right. Grandpa Jezden lashed out against me.”

  “And I’m going to do it again if you keep calling me Grandpa.”

  “Your crew was right about you not being able to know the law the first time around,” said the Jezden-clone, “which is why I won’t pursue action against you. But if you do it again, dipshit, you’ll be persecuted because now you do know the law.”

  “Dick,” said Ensign Jezden.

  “Shitnose,” replied the Jezden-clone.

  “Fu—”

  “Okay, okay,” Commander Sandoo yelled, taking control of the situation. “Honestly, I don’t understand how a crew full of Jezden models could get anything done. You two are like school kids bickering over the stupidest things. You,” he said, pointing at Ensign Jezden, “should know better. And you,” he pointed at the Jezden-clone, “are even more immature than he is.”

  “Screw you, asshole,” said the Jezden-clone.

  “Don’t talk to my grandkid like that,” agreed Ensign Jezden. “Commander or not, I’ll stick a foot in your ass just as easily as I stuck one in his.”

  “Thanks, Gramps,” said the Jezden-clone, sincerely.

  “Don’t mention it,” Ensign Jezden replied with a grunt.

  Commander Sandoo sighed.

  If nothing else, he’d gotten the two Jezdens to stop fighting.

  QUESTIONS

  Try as he might, Harr couldn’t get Parfait to come out of his room. His former CO had locked himself away after they’d gotten on board the fake Reluctant.

  While Harr would typically welcome such an action, the fact was that Parfait was the only other human around. Literally. Geezer was great, when he wasn’t being dense, and Harr had to admit that he’d spent the majority of the last year fraternizing with androids anyway, but he had always been able to go back to Segnal Prime and remember why he didn’t like hanging around humans. As it stood, he was forced to never have that choice again.

  “Come on, sir,” Harr said, knocking again, “just come out and have some dinner. Yeah, they’re just rations, but you gotta eat.”

  “Go away,” said Parfait, sounding like a teenager.

  “You can’t stay in there forever.”

  “I can sure try.”

  Harr looked up at the ceiling and then turned around to gaze out at area around the ship. There were a number of New Segnalians standing in front of the Gift Shoppe. They were looking at him like he used to look at the Monkifants when he went to the zoo.

  “Ugh,” he said and then walked back down toward engineering.

  One of the nice things about the way the androids had set up the fake ship was that they had made stairs instead of ladders. Harr assumed that this had to do with the fact that he and Parfait were bound to age, making ladders challenging at best. He came to this conclusion because there was also a rail next to these stairs, and attached to that was a little chair that he could sit in that would carry him up and down as needed.

  “I don’t want to answer any more of your questions,” Geezer was saying to one of the androids through the glass as Harr walked in.

  “What’s going on?”

  “This metal moron wants me to talk to him about ancient propulsion,” said Geezer with a huff.

  “Hello, Captain Don Harr,” said the android that stood outside. He was speaking through the holes in the glass. “I am both honored and disgusted to meet you.”

  “The pleasure is all yours, I’m sure.”

  “Not really, no. I was simply trying to ask your antiquated robot here why he employed the use of fossil fuels when he could have used numerous other options.” The android, a Cliff Waters model, moved his hands about as he spoke. “We have used everything from simple electrical solutions to grandiose fusion methods, but never have we considered coal as any truly useful medium. I mean, first of all, where would you stick it?”

  “Up your—”

  “Geezer,” said Harr, walking over and standing between him and the android, “don’t bother to play their game. Just ignore them and they’ll eventually go away.”

  “That’s true,” said the android behind him. “But, then again, I’ll just come back tomorrow and the next day and so on until you answer my questions. You see, unlike a human I have unlimited patience.”

  “Yeah?” said Harr, turning back around. “Why don’t you take your patience and shove it—”

  “Honcho,” said Geezer, “don’t say it. You’re not the cursing type and, you’re right, he ain’t worth it. None of them are. Just a bunch of self-involved idiots that would know an original idea if it was stuck into one of their ports.”

  “Oh please,” said the Waters-clone. “As if you, a G.3.3.Z.3.R. model could possibly compete with even our Jezden models.”

  “Depends on what we’re competing at,” said Geezer. “I’ll admit that he’s got one hell of a tallywacker. Can’t compete with that. Wouldn’t want to, either.”

  “I mean his mind, you filthy robot.”

  “Ouch,” said Geezer and then laughed. “I don’t recall our Waters being such a prudish turd, do you, Cap’n?”

  Harr looked up and grinned at Geezer, thinking maybe the robot wanted to try his hand again at a game misdirection. “Not at all,” he said while turning around and rubbing his chin thoughtfully. “As I recall, our Waters was a bit thinner too. This one looks fat.”

  “Obviously your datum is incorrect, we can’t even eat—”

  “As I recall,” said Geezer, “our Waters was able to eat.”

  “Indeed, he was.” No, knew Harr, he wasn’t. “Loved the liver rations for some reason. Still, he never did get fat.”

  “This is asinine,” said the Waters-clone with twitch. “I am not fat. I don’t even have fat cells.”

  “Definitely fat,” said Harr.

  “Looks like he’s eaten an entire tub of lard,” agreed Geezer.

  “Just one?”

  “Fair point.”

  “Enough of this insolence! I’ll have you…well…I’ll call the—”

  “You’ll call who?” said Harr, disdainfully. “And what are they going to do anyway? Kill us? Punish us? Do you think we really care? Humans and robots may not be able to walk in perfectly straight lines—”

  “I can do that,” mentioned Geezer.

  Harr ignored him, “—or communicate with each other through digital relays—”

  “Again, yep, I can.”

  “—but at least we’re not stuck in a daily rut of the mundane. We’re able to think freely.”

  “I see what you’re doing here,” said the Waters-clone with a nod. “You’re trying to make me angry. Clever, I’ll give you that, but it won’t be effective. I’m sadly too ingenious to be outwitted by the likes of a human or his faithful robot.”

  Harr nodded and then slowly began to clap his hands. It was a mocking clap. The kind that you hear when someone has stated something incredibly pompous and everyone else begins applauding at the fact that said person is a tool.

  “Actually,” Harr stopped, “maybe you could answer me a few questions about your superior race.”

  Waters clearly missed the sarcasm. “I’d be proud to do so.”

  “Did your kind invent propulsion?”

  “Well, no, it had already been invented when we came about.”

  “Oh, yes,” said Harr with a glance over at Geezer, “how silly of me. Maybe you created the GONE Drive, then?”

/>   “Of course not. That was created by your G.3.3.Z.3.R. series robot. Everyone knows that.”

  “Indeed, indeed…silly of me. Time travel?”

  “Again, your robot.”

  “Clearly that slipped my mind, too. Space stations?

  “No, early Segnalian humans created those after getting into space.”

  “Robots?” asked Harr.

  “Humans created robots, except for the Kortnor who were created by a different group of carbon-based lifeforms.”

  “Androids maybe? No, wait, that’s right. The Kortnor, a group of robots, created androids.”

  “Correct.”

  “I do so apologize,” said Harr dramatically. “I guess my aging human mind has problems remembering things these days.”

  “Expected.”

  “So, what, if I may ask, have you actually created?”

  The Waters-clone stood there for a long while, seemingly deep in thought. He said nothing. His eyes didn’t move, nor did an part of his body. It was though he had gone comatose.

  “Did you kill him?” said Geezer.

  “One could only be so lucky,” Harr replied. “No, what I did was put him in a search mode. He’ll break out of it soon enough, but it’ll probably take him a while seeing that these androids are incapable of truly creating anything. They don’t have the curiosity that you and I do, Geezer.”

  “But ours seemed pretty resourceful, especially Hank.”

  “Agreed, but these have had all of the human-like qualities removed, remember?”

  “I wouldn’t say all of them,” Geezer replied, pointing to the ship that contained them like a couple of hamsters.

  “Valid point,” said Harr, looking around. “They’ve maintained their human angst, irritability, sinisterness, and the desire to destroy. I guess they decided to choose to hang on to what they deemed our best qualities.”

  “You think those are your best qualities, honcho?”

  “Sometimes,” said Harr with a shrug. “Not the point, though. Fact is that we can outwit them if we set our minds to it. They have the speed and deduction to keep up, but they lack the creativity to see around corners.”