McClendon's Syndrome (v1.1)

by Robert Frezza

  “I’m sure it’s not, Harry.” I said in my most authoritarian manner, “Wyma Jean, meet me by the lock. In ten minutes.” I shut the door behind me.

  Clyde joined me by the lock to see Spooner off, which apparently didn’t violate the terms of their joint cabin occupancy agreement but did make my job a little delicate.

  “Clyde,” I asked as we were waiting, “what do you and Spooner have in common. I mean, besides a difference in sex?”

  Clyde had dark circles under his eyes. “I’ve been asking myself the same thing. I guess I follow my heart.”

  “Off of cliffs and in front of moving trains,” I started to say, but checked myself as Wyma Jean arrived.

  “Goodbye, Ken,” she said. “Thanks for every thing.” Then she solemnly stepped up to Clyde and shook hands with him as the Kid pulled up.

  She disappeared onto the shuttle. “Ken, sir, maybe I would like to talk to you after all,” Clyde said.

  I stared at him. “Clyde, are you sure? There are at least four different things that can happen over the next few hours, and three of them would obviate the need for our discussion.”

  “Uh, right.”

  I grabbed something quick to eat and reported to Catarina on the bridge. Under Hiro’s approving eye, we warmed up and then tried a few simulated launches out of practice manoeuvres. Whatever effect Wyma Jean may have had on Harry’s hormones, she didn’t help his shooting eye much.

  In the middle of a reverse thrust, Bunkie cut in. “Commander Hiro, Dare is going for the honey pot.”

  “Good job, Bunkie,” Catarina said, easing us out of the manoeuvre. “Secure from action stations. Let’s take a break.”

  The Scupper came to a rest position and we resumed spin. “Where is Dare now?” Catarina asked Bunkie.

  “She’s in with the two guys you found. I’m jamming the telephone frequencies and watching her on the security camera. The two guys are pretty good—they’re spending more time arguing with each other than they are talking to Dare.”

  “That’s natural talent. It sounds like things are under control. What else is going on down there?”

  “Ma’am, things are getting a little crazy. So far this morning, I’ve gotten in four hundred and seventy-one reports of Rodents warships and other unidentified flying objects, including one that landed in somebody’s bathtub. I’ve also received two hundred and ninety-one photos of clouds, meteorites, and animals jumping over fences.” Bunkie looked harried. “It’s like Elvis’s Second Coming out there. People are afraid that the invasion may hold up their welfare checks.”

  “Do the best you can, Bunkie,” Catarina told her. “Keep us posted.”

  As Catarina cut the connection, I looked at her. “I just thought of something. We expect Genghis to show over the next five or six hours. What if he’s late?”

  “Then we have problems with Dare,” Catarina responded. “And if Genghis is late by a couple of days, we have worse problems. This is a small planet and the media is stretched just to cover the election, so for now we only have Lydia to contend with. As soon as the election is over—”

  “The other reporters will be swarming over us like flies on fresh manure,” I finished for her,

  Bucky arrived a few seconds later carrying a steaming mug of honey-water. “I was just thinking,” he said. “It is possible that we are overreacting. Papa has had nearly a week to come to his senses and recall my demi-brother.”

  I looked at Catarina. “I wish he hadn’t said that. My luck being what it is, the odds on Genghis showing up within the next five minutes just went from one in ten to about ten to one.”

  Catarina nodded and flipped the intercom back on. “Annalee, I need you to make an especially good search.”

  “Did I say something?” Bucky asked.

  “Ken keeps bumping up against unfavourable chance deviations,” Catarina explained.

  McHugh was monitoring the Gremlin. “Commencing full search beginning with the most likely sectors,” she said crisply. “Oh, shit! Ships approaching. I can barely make them out.”

  “Rodents!” Hiro exclaimed, his eyes alight with the fire of battle.

  “All hands to action stations,” Catarina called out, pulling up the picture Annalee was seeing.

  At a nod from her, I opened up a channel to Piper and Bunkie.- “Four ships approaching at extreme detection range. It looks like Genghis is here.”

  Two small Rodent merchant ships were leading, one after the other, with the Phoenix-class cruiser and a passenger liner trailing them astern. The liner was obviously being used as a troopship. This was shaping up to be what military people call a “target-rich environment.” We didn’t have to look very far to find something worth shooting at, and we didn’t have to look very far to find something shooting back.

  Catarina ran her hands over the controls. “They’re heading straight for the second vee in the minefield,” she said calmly as we eliminated our spin and moved to interpose our ship between the Rodent ships and Schenectady below.

  There was a squawk from the loud-hailer. “The light cruiser signs herself as Nemesis. She’s trying to communicate,” I commented.

  Hiro and Beaver were sitting in the jump seats. Although Bucky was busy trying to strap himself in, Hiro was perched on the edge of his seat. “Ensign Mickey, please put the cruiser on. Try and get full video if you can. Dr. Beaver, stand by.”

  “Sorry, sir, the best we can do at this distance is audio, with about a one-second transmission lag.” I flipped on the loud-hailer. “Nemesis, this is Confederation Navy vessel Rustam’s Slipper acknowledging.”

  The Rodent flotilla slowed its approach. Nemesis responded, “Rustam’s Slipper, this is Cheeves. Is Dr. Beaver present aboard your ship? If so, may I speak with him?”

  “That does sound like Cheeves,” Hiro exclaimed. He picked up the little microphone attached to the jump seat and spoke into it. “Cheeves, this is Commander Hiro, aboard Rustam’s Slipper. Dr. Beaver is aboard. Go ahead and speak with him, Doctor.”

  “Cheeves, what a pleasant surprise to hear from you. I had given up hope altogether,” Bucky said.

  “It is very pleasant to speak with you, sir. I feared that I would not be afforded the opportunity,” Cheeves responded.

  “How are things over there?” Beaver asked.

  I could have answered that. The three lead ships were still closing on us slowly, leaving the liner behind them, well out of range. At a nudge from Catarina, I opened up the intercom to let everyone else on the ship listen.

  “Sir, I regret that your dread father had already made up his august and Imperial mind by the time of my arrival, and although I pleaded your case as forcefully as I was able, he declined to change it,” Cheeves explained. “As you are aware, your demi-brother Adolf was your father’s favourite offspring, and his unfortunate demise moved your father greatly. Your dread father is much sorrowed.”

  “Indeed, Cheeves,” Bucky sympathised.

  “Sir, I was constrained to comply with his wish that I accompany the expedition and advise your demi-brother Genghis, although with heavy heart. I reported to your demi-brother the feeble condition of the vessel you are on and the somewhat questionable calibre of her personnel. I earnestly hope I have not caused you inconvenience. Is there any way that you could remove yourself from Rustam’s Slipper prior to its destruction?”

  “You switched sides, you sawed-off little gopher!” Harry exclaimed.

  Bucky drew himself together. “Pardon me, this is a private conversation,” he said icily.

  “Belay that, Mr. Halsey,” Hiro said. “Please continue, Doctor.”

  “Uh, Cheeves, I say,” Bucky said. “These humans are my friends. I volunteered to accompany them. Would you now have me show the white feather and abandon them in their hour of need?”

  “Of course not, sir. I merely felt that you might find it acceptable to view the conflict from a slightly greater distance.”

  “I appreciate your solicitude for my welfare
, as ever, Cheeves, but I really don’t see how I could leave friends Ken and Catarina bereft of my counsel, so here I must stay, for better or worse.”

  “I feared as much, sir. To touch upon a difficult subject, I had hoped to fully explain my conduct to you, and it does not appear probable that I shall have the opportunity to do so. I can only offer my deepest regrets.”

  “That is not necessary, Cheeves. I am convinced that your motivations are fully honourable. As Bucky says, ‘One’s friends, one must trust.’ “

  “Thank you, sir. I am deeply touched by your confidence. I fear I must now bid you adieu, inasmuch as the ship’s commanding officer, Captain von Tirpitz, informs me that the moment of your destruction has arrived and wishes to speak with you on behalf of your demi-brother Genghis. Farewell, sir.”

  “Ta-ta, Cheeves,” Bucky said, wiping his eyes with a handkerchief.

  Catarina cut in. “Hold it a moment. Cheeves, what about the money?”

  “I regret that whatever explanation I could provide you must await a more suitable moment,” Cheeves said firmly. “Captain von Tirpitz wishes to speak.”

  “Worthless humans, prepare to die!” a higher-pitched voice said.

  Somehow, when you’re keyed up and expecting to get fried, you don’t expect remarks like that from somebody who sounds like he’s on helium. I giggled.

  Von Tirpitz had a complete and total sense-of-humour failure.

  There was a great deal of squeaking from Nemesis. “Oh, I say,” Bucky exclaimed. “Such language!”

  Hiro reproved me mildly. “Ensign Mickey, please.” He said to von Tirpitz, “Nemesis, this vessel is an armed Confederation warship. If you have something to say, say it. Otherwise, prepare to be fired upon and destroyed.”

  “Humans!” von Tirpitz said. “We have hung out a flag of truce as a sign of parley in accordance with Admiral Genghis’s noble and beneficent instructions. Our Supreme War-Leader informs me that he will accept one of your officers aboard this ship to discuss terms of surrender. If you surrender promptly and abase yourselves, some among you will be permitted to keep your short and brutish lives.”

  “One moment,” Hiro said, and Catarina turned off the loud-hailer.

  “They’re asking for a parley. That’s a hopeful sign. Lieutenant Lindquist, can we get the lifeboat out there and back?”

  “Yes, sir. It’s small, but it has enough range,” Catarina said, hinting delicately that the lifeboat was too small to trigger our mines and tip our hand, so to speak.

  “I don’t think that they expected us to be armed. Maybe they’ll leave after a show of negotiations,” Hiro said optimistically.

  I had forgotten to shut the intercom off. Someone up in Dumber One hold said in a very unmilitary fashion, “The man is obviously playing bridge with a pinochle deck.”

  Hiro wisely ignored the comment. “Lieutenant Lindquist, Dr. Beaver, can we trust Genghis? It would be very awkward to have to manoeuvre without all our personnel aboard.”

  “I believe so,” Beaver answered. “Among my people, parleys are considered sacred, since we !Plixxi* much prefer talking to fighting and do far more of the former than the latter. Since we have adopted your custom of a flag of truce, I have never heard of one being dishonoured.”

  “I doubt it’s a ploy. I’m not sure they think they have anything to lose,” Catarina said grimly. “But, remember, we can’t stall Dare forever.”

  “True. All right,” Hiro said. Catarina switched on the loud-hailer. “Nemesis, halt in your present positions. I will send an officer empowered to discuss the disarming of your ships and the repatriation of your personnel,” Hiro told von Tirpitz.

  There was a shrill noise on the other end that sounded like laughter. “Your conditions are accepted! Send your officer!”

  As I broke contact with Nemesis, Bucky said, “I must say. This von Tirpitz is quite rude. I don’t know where Genghis finds these hooligans of his.”

  “Mickey, are you willing to volunteer to go?” Hiro asked. “As long as there is any hope of persuading Genghis to simply leave, I feel that it is our duty to sit down and smoke a peace pipe with him to try and bury the hatchet.”

  Beaver reacted. “Commander Hiro, I can see that burying the hatchet might make it hard to find if you didn’t mark the spot beforehand, but smoking a peace pipe? Wouldn’t that lead to emphysema?”

  Catarina stared at the ceiling. I spoke up loudly. “Uh, Commander, the Rodents over there are a trifle annoyed with me on a personal basis—I remember something about ritual castration—so sending me might not be conducive to the successful completion of negotiations.”

  “Can’t be helped, Mickey. I cannot command the force from a lifeboat, arid I can’t send Lieutenant Lindquist. Even though she’s attached to the combat services, she is an intelligence officer, after all, and it would be a major intelligence failure to allow her to fall into Rodent hands should they prove treacherous. It just isn’t done in the Regular navy.” Hiro’s tone of voice was one usually reserved for half-wits. “You are the only other officer on board. You’re protected by a flag of truce, so you shouldn’t have anything to worry about.”

  “All right, sir,” I told him. Catarina was chewing her lower lip into hamburger. “Any ideas?” I asked her under my breath.

  “Take the lifeboat. Drape it in a bedsheet. Go out a little slow to make them think that the boat doesn’t have any speed, and come back quick. Keep your discussion short. As soon as Channel Two notices Genghis’s ships overhead, they’re going to start looking under rocks for Lydia.” She waited until Hiro turned his head and then kissed me softly. “Godspeed.”

  “Ken, I shall accompany you,” Beaver said loyally. “I shall prevail upon my demi-sibling to see the sweet light of reason.”

  “You’d better not. You’re a target, too. If you go, Ken will need someone to stay with the lifeboat to keep Genghis from tampering with it,” Catarina cautioned.

  “I’ll go! I’ll go! I can stay with the lifeboat,” Harry volunteered promptly. Hiro acquiesced.

  Crammed together in the little lifeboat with Bucky and Harry, I found the long ride over to Genghis’s flagship seemingly interminable. Even Harry was subdued. As the lifeboat passed the stubby cylinder of a floating mine, I asked Harry, “What’s this thing under my seat?” I asked Harry.

  “What thing, sir?”

  “This box.”

  “Oh, it’s a case of emergency rations I threw in, sir,” Harry said. “They might come in handy. You never know.”

  As we closed in on the long, lean hull of Nemesis, I confided to von Tirpitz that we had Bucky aboard. I could tell I had his attention.

  I figured out why when we boarded. When Bucky appeared, von Tirpitz had twenty side-Rodents there to greet him in style. Some of them were still buckling their crossbelts on.

  The Rodent in charge gestured with what looked to be a ceremonial bread knife, and the honour guard presented arms with a flourish. I noticed they were all carrying modern FN rifles. Bucky twitched his whiskers appropriately. “The pomp is always so tiresome,” he confided.

  A chubby Rat in oversized epaulets bowed stiffly. “I am Captain von Tirpitz, Your Rotundity,” He gave me a poisonous look. “I was not made aware of your coming. Permit me to give you a tour of the unrestricted areas of my ship.”

  “That won’t be necessary,” Bucky said loftily. “I must see my demi-brother Genghis.”

  “That will not be possible. Our Supreme War-Leader left instructions that he is indisposed.”

  “Of all the nerve—where is Cheeves, then?” Bucky said with a hint of anger in his voice.

  “Cheeves is also indisposed. Permit me to give you a tour of the vessel.”

  Bucky leaned over and whispered to me. “Friend Ken, my presence here is wasted. My demi-brother refuses to see me. It is up to you.” He allowed von Tirpitz to lead him off.

  A smaller Rodent wearing a lieutenant commander’s stripes came up to me. “You are Ensign MacKay? Please to f
ollow me.”

  He led me back to a huge cabin decked out in shimmering tapestries, striped animal skins, and swathes of gauzy fabric. It bore an obvious resemblance to what Mad King Ludwig thought a Moorish harem should be. The Rodent three-striper immediately left, leaving me alone with Genghis and a brace of guards.

  The Supreme War-Leader, draped on a divan, was a lean, scrawny-looking Rodent with drooping side-whiskers and eager, burning eyes.

  He sat up and rubbed his paws together. “Ah, Ensign Ken MacKay—may I call you Ken?—I was hoping you would come. I wanted to see you in the flesh. Before I destroyed your ship, of course.” He made a gesture. “Oh, don’t worry about my guards. They don’t speak English.”

  “Nice digs,” I said, looking around at the tapestries.

  “It is nice, isn’t it? It has that look of burnished, barbaric splendour. The little ulterior decorator I found was worth every penny.”

  “Right. Shall we get down to business? I hope Cheeves mentioned that Adolf managed to put a missile into his own ship while he was trying to waste us, so strictly speaking, I’m not sure we’re responsible.”

  “Oh, Cheeves said something of the sort. He is a gem, isn’t he?” Genghis guffawed. “Sorry, little joke there. You know, ‘gem,’ as in emerald?”

  “Uh, right.”

  “In any case, Cheeves is truly a Rodent of vision. I intend to make him my grand vizier when I have taken power. I shouldn’t be telling you this, but if it were not for his assistance with the financing end of things, I wouldn’t have been able to pull this off. I have plans, Ken, big plans.”

  He broke into a rousing chorus of “For I am a Pirate King.” The song sounds better sung by a bass.

  “Let’s get back to Adolf,” I said.

  “You wish to discuss Adolf? My weak, venal, and exceptionally stupid demi-brother? I made use of him, but it would have been very awkward to keep him around after I succeeded to the throne. I am actually rather grateful to you for disposing of him. Although I personally can’t say that I care whether you live or die, I did promise Papa that I would blow you to atoms, so there is nothing further to be said on the subject. Hopefully, I’ll be able to recover your corpse from the wreckage of your ship so that I can flay the hide off you and turn you into a blanket. It’ll go well with the draperies, don’t you think?”