McClendon's Syndrome (v1.1)

by Robert Frezza

  He passed it over. Female Rodents, I discovered, look like miniature schnauzers.

  We figured out why Genghis was prolonging the agony when he showed up a few seconds later on the viewscreen. “Vile enemies of Rodentdom! You are toast! Prepare to die!” He twirled his whiskers. “Has a nice ring to it, doesn’t it? Want to throw in the towel, demi-brother? Throw yourself onto my non-existent mercy?”

  “As Bucky would say, I would like to say once more how pleased I am to be dying in company with such good friends,” Bucky said.

  “I think I’m going to toss my cookies,” McHugh responded sullenly over the intercom.

  Bucky looked up quizzically. “Tossing cookies? Is this an athletic event?”

  I whispered to Catarina. “You know, just once I’d like to tell Dr. Beaver what I think of ol’ Bucky.”

  She shook her head. “No, no. Don’t forget, Ken. As Bucky says, ‘You should endeavour to leave this life with a clean heart and good deeds to be remembered by.’ “

  “Well, there’s one more I had in mind.” I leaned over and kissed her.

  It was apparently Dinky’s turn to use the intercom. “You know, I have a feeling in my bones that we’re going to get out of this okay.”

  “Have you considered a transplant?” McHugh responded.

  “This is such fun. Any other last words?” Genghis inquired, cocking his head. “Please maintain screen contact to the very end. I want to assure my father that I personally witnessed your destruction.” He smirked. “And you, dear demi-brother, ta-ta! Bye-bye! Bridge, fire!”

  “Folks, I think the fat lady’s doing her warm-ups,” Clyde said.

  A long minute passed.

  “Where’s the bang? I’m still waiting to hear the bang,” Genghis observed. He looked at us. “You’re still there. Bridge? Why are they still there? Bridge, fire!”

  Another long minute passed.

  “Oh, drat! Excuse me one moment,” Genghis said. “I need to go check up on things. There seems to be something wrong with my bloody ships today.”

  At that moment, a swarm of lifecraft moved away from Nemesis’s sides.

  Catarina and I looked at each other. “Cheeves!” we said simultaneously.

  Bucky was the first to react. “Cheeves is indeed a true friend,” he intoned sonorously.

  McHugh’s voice floated in over the intercom. “Ken, you louse! Since we’re going to die any minute now, I want to tell you exactly what I think.”

  “Annalee, everybody, I think we just won,” I said.

  I heard a muffled squawk from the intercom.

  “Now that we’ve won, I’d like to know how,” I continued. “What is going on over there?”

  Catarina stared into the screen, then punched on the loud-hailer. “Let’s see what’s on the mayday frequencies.”

  We listened to chittering on several bands. “Hold it,” I said. “Go back. That sounded like English!”

  She was already tuning it in. “The signal’s weak.”

  “...Slipper, come in. Please come in Rustam’s Slipper...”

  “Quiet, everybody!” Catarina ordered. “This is Rustam’s Slipper. Please identify yourself.”

  “Ah, Miss Lindquist. How happy I am to hear your voice! I trust things are well with you, Dr. Beaver, and Mr. MacKay.”

  “Cheeves, we’re fine. What’s going on over there?”

  “I have made certain adjustments to this ship’s system of controls and have cut power to both the bridge and to the ship’s weapons systems,” Cheeves said. “I trust this meets with your approval.”

  “Quite, Cheeves,” I said.

  “Unfortunately,” Cheeves continued, “I was forced to dispense with the ship’s safety systems. The ship’s computer informs me that the engines are unbalanced, and that if I do not restore normal fuel controls and adjust the damping, whatever that might be, the ship will blow up underneath me in approximately thirty-six point two minutes. I do not know how to do this and am somewhat loath to restore controls. I felt it prudent to advise the ship’s crew to abandon ship under the circumstances.”

  “Cheeves, we’re coming after you. Where can we find you?” Catarina asked.

  “That is very...” Cheeves started to say. Abruptly, the connection died.

  Catarina shifted frequencies. “Spooner, bring the shuttle around immediately. Cheeves has wrecked Nemesis for us, and we’re going after him.”

  As soon as Spooner acknowledged, Catarina got on the intercom. “We’re going to abandon ship. McHugh, check out the lifeboat. Commander Hiro is injured and unconscious. Witherspoon, Ensign MacKay, and I are going to board the shuttle and rescue Cheeves. Evacuate everyone else.”

  “You want invitations engraved? Move it!” Annalee shouted over the intercom.

  Clumsy in free fall, Annalee and Harry piled through the door to carry Hiro off. “Here, Ken. Take my pistol,” Harry said, pressing it into my hand.

  “Thanks, Harry.” I made sure it was on safety and stuffed it into the thigh pocket on my suit.

  Harry fished around in his pocket. “Here, you’d better take this, too.”

  “Uh, thanks again, Harry. What is it?”

  “It’s a sock full of marbles. You use it to cosh sentries. Like this! Wham!” Harry proceeded to demonstrate and almost turned a somersault.

  “Uh, thanks, Harry.” I slipped it into another pocket.

  Catarina grinned. “I have a service pistol, and so does Clyde. There’s Spooner and the Kid now.”

  We got to the lock just as the Kid docked. Clyde was carrying an assault rifle in addition to his pistol.

  Spooner’s face lit up as we climbed aboard the shuttle. “Ken, where’s Harry?”

  “Harry’s fine. We put him aboard the lifeboat,” I told her, wrapping one arm around Clyde so he couldn’t aim his rifle.

  Catarina whispered instructions into the Kid’s ear, and we pulled away with the equivalent of squealing tires.

  “I’ve never been aboard a light cruiser before. Where should Hook?” Clyde asked her.

  “You won’t. You’re rear security. Ken and I will do the searching,” Catarina said, looking at her watch. “We’ll have fifteen minutes at most to find Cheeves. If we’re not back by then, button up and take off before Nemesis goes off.”

  She got on the loud-hailer. “Nemesis, we are here under a flag of truce to pick up survivors from your ship. Do not fire. Repeat, do not fire.” She looked at me. “I wish I’d remembered to ask Bucky how to say that in !Plixxi*.”

  “Uh, right.”

  We sailed past the stricken cruiser’s lasers and missile launchers to dock. As we touched, someone on board Nemesis opened the lock, and Catarina and I got out. Immediately, a couple of dozen Rodents scampered past us and threw themselves at Clyde’s feet.

  Inside, Nemesis was no longer the taut ship I remembered. There was discarded equipment and other debris all around.

  “We’re going to have trouble finding Cheeves. We’ll have a better chance if we split up,” Catarina said. “Clyde, give us fifteen minutes starting now!”

  She gave my arm a squeeze. “You know your way to the main cabin—you head that way. Stay to the main corridors, and if you don’t spot Cheeves in ten minutes, come running back. Whatever you do, don’t get lost!”

  “Uh, right, “I said.

  “Okay.” Catarina reached down to pick up a discarded sword and pushed it into my hands. “Here, take this!”

  “Uh, thanks.” I was a walking arsenal.

  I went jogging down the central corridor. Ahead of me, a trio of Rodents poured out of one cabin, chirping horribly. I fumbled for the sword hilt, then relaxed as they ran past.

  Behind me, a squeaky voice said, “We meet again. The gods are kind.”

  I turned around, saying, “I’m looking for a fellow named Cheeves, about so tall. Have you seen him?” I found myself facing Genghis, who was holding a small chain saw.

  “Vile human, this is all your fault. Prepare yourself to d
ie!” Genghis said hoarsely.

  “I’d like to meet the guy who did the language tapes for your planet.” I reached into my pocket and pulled out Harry’s pistol. “Don’t move or I’ll shoot. And why are you holding that chain saw?”

  “They are used as antipersonnel weapons in all your finest films. I shall drink your blood, Ken MacKay!” He fired up the saw and waddled toward me.

  I pulled the trigger. Nothing happened, of course. The chamber and the magazine were empty; Harry had forgotten to load the thing. “This isn’t supposed to happen,” I muttered, and heaved the pistol at Genghis’s head, which was probably the smartest thing I could have done whether the pistol was loaded or not.

  Then I took off running. I figured out that you run faster if you drop the sword you’re carrying. There was a long, straight corridor ahead of me, full of doors. One door facing me opened, and a Rodent holding a rifle timidly stuck his head around, his whiskers twitching.

  I slammed the heel of my hand in the middle of the door as I ran by, which put it in the middle of the Rodent’s face.

  “Sorry,” I said, “I’m in kind of a hurry.”

  Behind me, over the roar of the chain saw, I heard Genghis panting. “I will carve your ribs from your backbone, and spread the Blood Eagle!”

  “Why are you chasing me, you idiot? You know this ship is about to blow up, don’t you?” I yelled irritably.

  “It couldn’t have been that fool brother of mine who planned this! You did this to me!” Genghis wheezed. “It was your fiendish mind that devised this evil plot, Ken MacKay. Turn, and look at your doom! I will be requited if I can but reach into your rib cage and clutch your pulsing heart and liver.” Genghis sounded like he was in the same lousy physical shape I was in.

  “You have obviously been reading too much science fiction!” I replied.

  The corridor made a sharp bend, and as I rounded it I felt a sharp pain in my side. “Dear God, if you get me out of this, I swear I’ll play racketball three times a week,” I muttered.

  Leaning against the wall to catch my breath, I heard Genghis’s footsteps coming closer. I reached into my pocket and pulled out Harry’s overstuffed sock of marbles. Counting to three, I took the sock and emptied the marbles out in Genghis’s path.

  “Oh, no!” I heard Genghis shout. A second later, he came flying into view and slammed into the wall muzzle-first. The chain saw hit the deckplates and spun around a few times.

  I bent over and turned it off. “Fun’s fun,” I told Genghis, “but the ship’s about to blow up, and I have work to do.”

  Genghis shook his head and rose to his knees. He pulled out a long, ornate-looking dagger. “Vile human, prepare to suffer pain!”

  “Obviously, I am not doing this right,” I commented.

  Suddenly, Genghis’s head froze and his whiskers twitched. I saw his nostrils flare. Behind me, I heard a deep, resonant growl, and a familiar, rank odour filled the air. Genghis dropped the dagger like a flash and scooted back up the corridor.

  I turned. Peering out from around the corner ahead of me, I, saw the head of a cat the size of a grizzly bear. The cat bared its fangs and reached out a huge pink tongue to lick its whiskers. The image shimmered.

  The cat looked suspiciously like Sasha Louise.

  It meowed, a high bass rumble. Then the holographic image faded, and the real Sasha Louise poked her furry little head around the corner. She was followed by Cheeves, who had a clip on his nose and a fair-sized camera arrangement hooked to a strap over one of his rounded shoulders. He tucked away his can of Cheez Whiz.

  “I do hope you weren’t inconvenienced by our tardy arrival, Mr. MacKay.” He bowed slightly.

  “Shuttle. Starboard bay,” I croaked. “Double-parked.”

  “In that case, it would be prudent for us to make haste. I would highly recommend the path to our left.”

  Sasha Louise took off at a dead run, and we followed her as fast as Cheeves’s little legs would carry him.

  “Nice toy you have.”

  “Quite,” he agreed. “Excellent engineering, if I may say so. The image resolution is quite superior. I believe it’s Japanese. The cheese, sir, is as effective as you portrayed it.”

  “Uh, right. What made you decide to use Sasha?”

  “There is a large feline sort of creature, fortunately extinct, that figures prominently in !Plixxi* fairy tales—quite unpleasant and dependably disagreeable. It was very similar to the hirsute tabby depicted in such an unfavourable light in ‘Bucky Beaver Meets Bun Rabbit.’ I felt it would be advantageous to have dependable means of disrupting the ship to order to obtain access to its controls.

  “In providing my intelligence summary to Admiral Genghis, I mentioned that Miss Lindquist was a vampire, a fact which featured prominently in her report. Naturally, the crew was curious and to explain what a vampire was, I had translations of Dracula prepared. I arranged for a few minor alterations in the story. I had the Count himself rum into a giant cat, rather than into a bat. I trust this meets with your approval.”

  I had to smile. “Changing the story on them?”

  “Sir,” Cheeves said stiffly, “Mistress Lindquist weighs approximately fifty-two kilograms. Even if she changed her appearance, she would still possess the same weight if the physical laws governing conservation of mass and energy are to hold true. As I understand it, most bats are much smaller.”

  “Smaller?”

  “Smaller, sir. They weigh at most a few hundred grams, and a fifty-two-kilogram bat, even with Mistress Lindquist’s personality, would be quite improbable. I felt this to be a serious defect in an otherwise admirable tale. As you may perhaps be aware, sir, one of the seminal vampire stories is a charming little tale called ‘Carmilla,’ by a Mr. J. Sheridan Le Fanu, which much influenced Mr. Stoker. Mr. Le Fanu’s vampire transformed herself into a large sooty-black animal of lithe restlessness resembling a monstrous cat, and I felt that he was likely to be accurate about such matters.”

  “I bow to your scholarship, Cheeves.”

  “Moreover, it was far easier to obtain a cat to impersonate Miss Lindquist on short notice than it would have been to obtain a bat.”

  I shook my head. “Cheeves, you’re unbelievable. Well done.”

  “Thank you very much, sir, I am most gratified. It seemed to me to be the most suitable way to resolve the contretemps. However, if I may be so bold, sir, that pale green shirt of yours with the checkered collar...”

  I took a deep breath as we turned another corner. “Consider it done, Cheeves. Give it to the deserving poor.”

  “I shall endeavour to find someone suitably colour-blind. And about the blue plaid, sir—”

  “Not the blue plaid!” We turned a final corner.

  “Yes, sir. I strongly recommend it.”

  “Okay, Cheeves, it’s gone. You are enjoying this, aren’t you?”

  As he trotted along, Cheeves brushed his whiskers in what may have been the Rodent equivalent of a wink. “I strive to stay in character, sir.”

  “One more question. The book, the cat, I presume the rattle of chains over the intercom, an announcement that the ship was about to blow up—is that all you did to convince the crew to abandon ship?”

  “There may have been a few discreet bribes in addition, sir,” Cheeves admitted.

  We saw the shuttle door ahead of us. “I’ve got Cheeves! Where’s Catarina?” I shouted to Clyde.

  “She was here a second ago. She went to find you.”

  The Kid stuck his head out. “Like, dude, you know, we’ve got to blow this place, before this place blows.”

  “No, not for another three minutes and fifty-seven seconds,” Cheeves said as he stopped and consulted his pocket watch.

  “Catarina!” I shouted. It sounded thin in the almost empty ship. I turned to Cheeves. “Quick, switch that thing on. I need an amplifier.”

  He caught my idea immediately. “Full volume, I feel, is called for,” he said, fiddling with the dials.

/>   “Catarina,” I bellowed, the echoes pounding around us. I motioned to the Kid. “Start the shuttle, I’m going after her.”

  “No need—dumb as hell—I’m here,” Catarina announced, breathless. “Let’s go!”

  “A most excellent idea.” Cheeves shut off the sound on his hologram projector.

  But as we crossed the threshold, a familiar voice said, “Not so fast.” I turned to see Genghis holding Sasha Louise under his arm with a sword under her chin. “Surrender yourselves or I will slit your accomplice’s throat.”

  “I would scarcely advocate it, sir,” Cheeves said, and disappeared into the bowels of the shuttle.

  “I’m out of here,” Catarina said, and followed.

  “Genghis, I wouldn’t want to disillusion you, but cats cost twenty-four cents a pound at the animal shelter,” I said. I pressed the button to close the hatch.

  As I was dogging it, I heard a squall of pain from Genghis, and Sasha came darting through the narrowed opening. She gave me a dirty look and started licking her paws.

  The shuttle was packed with Rodent refugees. “This is a happening place,” the Kid said as we took off.

  “Are we going to make it?” Spooner asked.

  “I would rather not venture a guess at this juncture,” Cheeves said.

  I turned to Catarina. “Catarina, haven’t we done this before?”

  “Two or three times,” she agreed.

  “Right. I’ve said everything stupid at least once, and I meant it.”

  “Right.” She smiled,

  I looked at Cheeves. “Cheeves, !Plixxi* family politics get pretty violent, don’t they?”

  “Quite vigorous, sir. Even in this enlightened age, it is customary to reduce the number of potentially disgruntled heirs.”

  “Out of curiosity, who is the heir apparent now that Genghis is out of the running?”