Custodians of the Cosmos

by Drayton Alan

  “The rules of what?” Kale asked.

  “Cannot say, against the rules.” Chopi’s face looked uncomfortable.

  “You can’t tell me about the rules, because that’s against the rules?”

  Chopi nodded and smiled.

  Kale couldn’t figure out why the little man had brought it up if he couldn’t talk about it. He could only write it off as more of Chopi’s weirdness.

  At the end of his shift, Kale was teleported back to the ship.

  He tried unsuccessfully to get some crispy bacon from the replicator, but instead got kale. After that, he returned to his room and spent an hour working on the lines and songs for Samuel, the Pirate King's simple-minded right-hand man.

  When he finally fell asleep, he dreamt of the first officer dancing with a line of robots in the Pirates of Penzance holovid.

  ***

  A comm buzzer sounded.

  “Kale here,” he mumbled.

  “Kale, Belle here, can you come down to the robotics lab? I need help with a special project.”

  “Sure, be there in a few.” Kale wondered why Belle would need his help in the middle of his sleep cycle.

  Kale walked past the replicator station on his way and saw a young woman explaining a problem to the same engineer that had refused to help him. He hurried past not wanting to confront the man about the insulting “ID10t” prank. He boarded the elevator keeping his face turned away from the man. As the elevator was waiting he overheard the conversation.

  The engineer said to the young woman, “Go ahead and try again.”

  “Computer, food please,” the young woman said.

  “Please state ID and food choice.”

  “Ensign Christy Bacon, kale salad please.”

  “Here is your crispy bacon, Kale Butterly.”

  “See! It messed it up, I told you it did…”

  The elevator door closed and Kale heard nothing else.

  ***

  He arrived at the bottom floor and made his way to the custodian’s shop and entered the robotics lab unsure of what to expect. Belle, Idonna, Chopi, and the lieutenant were in a conversation.

  “Good you’re here,” the lieutenant said. “I’ll bring you up on the plan.”

  “Plan?” Kale asked.

  “Da rescue plan for da Goat-Boy.” Idonna said.

  “Oh,” Kale said.

  The lieutenant explained. “I will convince the captain the we’ve run out of cleaning liquid and need to make a trip to the Grydon system to get some. Then we’ll be in range to teleport him.”

  “No disrespect, but that’s pretty feeble, sir,” Belle said. “Why wouldn’t we just replicate more cleaning liquid?”

  “I agree, I’m looking for you to suggest a better idea.”

  “Maybe its special cleaning tool of some kind?” Idonna suggested.

  “Wait, what?” Kale asked. He was still sleepy and wasn’t certain what he’d heard.

  “We received a distress signal from Nigel. Somehow, he sent one out, but the captain won’t arrange a rescue for a mere custodian,” Belle said.

  “When I asked, his reply was, ‘If I sent out a rescue team every time a sailor got mixed up with questionable women, we’d never get twenty minutes from Earth,’” the lieutenant said imitating the captain’s voice in ridicule. He did a good impression of the captain. “The bloody Coalition cares more about its missions than its people.”

  “So we need a plan to trick the captain into moving the ship into range. Then we’ll use one of the robot’s teleporters to grab Nigel from the Lactarian’s ship,” Belle explained.

  “You can do that?” Kale asked.

  “As long as his comm’ signal stays on,” Belle explained. “The robot’s teleporters aren’t as precise as the ones designed to teleport personnel, but they can do the trick if we have a good location or a tag on the person.”

  “Da problem is we can’t tink of any reason to give the captain to go to dat place,” Idonna added.

  Kale stared off into space a moment, rubbed his arm, then had an idea. “Computer, list all cross references to the Grydon system and xenobotany.”

  “Good idea, Kale,” the lieutenant said.

  The computer responded, “There are 326,432 cataloged plant species unique to that system’s ecology.”

  “Are any of those plants violent or aggressive in any way that might threaten a human?” Kale asked.

  “There are three plants that may be classified as violent or threatening to humans. Would you like a technical or layman's description of each?” the computer asked.

  “Layman’s.”

  The computer began its list. “The plant commonly called the Frigillian Rose sprays a noxious pesticide to kill insects that are attacking it. This pesticide is also toxic to most human species. The Garwardian Hibiscus can enwrap its victims in its slow-moving tentacles and slowly devour them. The Trapdoor Pitcher Plant of the planet Dresinia grows underground and ensnares its victims when they step on its covering trapdoor. They fall inside and it slowly digests them. End of list.”

  “Nothing too interesting,” Lieutenant Lou said. “I’m not sure the captain will detour for any of those.”

  “Yeah, kind of boring, so much for that idea,” Kale said.

  “No, wait, Kale is on to something,” Belle said. “Computer, are there any universities in that area that study these plants?”

  “Yes, there are eight of them in the area that have published papers on these plants,” the computer said.

  “Are any of them holding a conference in the near future?”

  “Yes, there is a xenobotany conference on the planet of Figdilla at the University of Hingmudi in three days. The speakers of note will be Dr. Leadly Hungten, Dr. Jonas...”

  “Computer,” Belle interrupted, “Can you connect us to the person arranging that conference?”

  “Yes, that would be Dr. James Gengdy, the head of the xenobotany department at the University of Hingmudi.” the computer said.

  “Please connect us.”

  “What are you doing, Belle?” the lieutenant asked. “The captain won’t visit a conference unless he’s been invited to speak.”

  “Exactly,” Belle said.

  “I have your contact, Professor Gengdy, on standby,” the computer announced.

  “Put him through, please.”

  “Dr. Gengdy here, may I help you?” a middle-aged man’s voice asked.

  “Yes, Dr. Gengdy, my name is Belle… um, Smith, thank you for taking our call. I’m traveling with a large group of xenobotany students on a field trip to see the Garwardian Hibiscus in its natural habitat. We saw a notice about your conference on the Xenobotanists Quarterly site and I was wondering if you have any specialists in violent plant species speaking at the conference? I didn’t see any listed on the program.”

  “Violent plant species?” Dr. Gengdy asked.

  “Yes, I’d hoped that the famous captain of the Starship Cosmos was going to appear, since it is reported in the area. My group and I were looking forward to hearing him speak. Otherwise, we will probably give your conference a miss. I was hoping to add it to our itinerary.”

  “Oh my, well, if I had known he was nearby I would have asked him,” the man said.

  “Well you didn’t know. It’s okay, you probably didn’t have room for seventy-five more people, anyway.”

  “Oh... seventy-five people, you say?” Dr. Gengdy said, excitement in his voice. “Don’t scratch us out, I’ll see what I can do to get him here. Watch our schedule for updates. Thanks for calling and letting me know.” The professor disconnected.

  “Computer, please keep us updated of any changes in the university’s xenobotany conference speaker schedule,” Belle said.

  “Belle, you got da devious mind girl,” Idonna said. “I like dat ’bout you.”

  “I’m impressed, Belle, good job,” the lieutenant said.

  Ten minutes later, the computer announced. “The xenobotany conference schedule h
as changed. Dr. Leadly Hungten’s lecture entitled Propagation and You, has been replaced by the illustrious captain of the Coalition Starship Cosmos, who will be presenting a lecture entitled, Violent Plants, How to Make Them Our Friends.”

  “You’re a woman of many talents,” Kale said. Belle gave him a big pretty smile.

  “Computer, order seventy-five tickets for the conference,” the lieutenant said.

  “The cost is 4875 credits, to which account shall I charge this?” the computer asked.

  “Put that against Yeoman Nigel Van Mullet’s charge, authorization Lieutenant. Lou Clontan.”

  “The transaction is complete; your ticket purchase is confirmed.”

  “How did you know he would invite the captain, Belle?” Kale asked.

  “Universities put on conferences for prestige and to raise money from donors and attendees, having a big turn out at a conference can be a huge boost to your budget. I used to go to a lot of conferences once upon a time.”

  “Will that planet work for getting Nigel?” the lieutenant asked.

  “The planet falls well within the range needed,” Belle reported. “As long as the Lactarians don’t move him, and he keeps the coded transmission going, we’ll be able to teleport him during the conference.”

  “Excellent Belle,” the lieutenant said. “Go ahead and make the modifications to one of the big scraper-bots, their garbage compartment should be big enough for Nigel.”

  “Already done, sir. However, programming it not to classify Nigel as garbage and dispose of him, took some doing, but I managed,” Belle said with a grin.

  Everyone laughed.

  “Good going, girl. What can Chopi and I be doing to help?” Idonna asked.

  Chopi smiled.

  “We might need to have people go to the conference so our tickets don’t go to waste,” the lieutenant said, and chuckled at the thought of Idonna sitting through one of the captain’s lectures. Then he said, “I’m sure the captain will ask quite a few on the crew to go as well. I can pass out free tickets to be sure they do.”

  “Why you laughing, mon? I can be real interested in science when I choose to be. Especially botany.” Idonna gave him a wink, and a friendly shove that nearly knocked him to the floor.

  Chopi smiled and nodded. “Yes, I would like to hear captain speak. Very high honor.”

  “Okay that’s all I have for everyone. Good job. Back to work,” the lieutenant said.

  Kale went back to his room to finish his rest period. He wasn’t surprised when he opened his electronic messages and found a personal request from the captain to attend his upcoming lecture at the University of Hingmudi.

  ***

  Kale had taken Frakes up on his invitation to go over the play with a small group of junior officers in a holo-suite at the officer’s social club, the Star Lounge.

  Kale had only ever been to the lounge to clean. Crewmen could only go there if invited by an officer.

  Frakes introduced Kale to the rest of the officers gathered. “Everyone, this is Kale Butterly. Kale is a recent addition to our janitorial staff. He has an extensive background in theater. He has even acted in several community productions as a lad back in his hometown. Go ahead, introduce yourself.”

  “Hi, I’m Kale.” He looked at the other officers, they seemed less than excited to meet a real-life custodian. Rubbing his arm, he continued unafraid, even though he recognized only a couple of them.

  “I wouldn’t call my experience extensive, but my parents were keen to put me in several plays when I was younger. They were fond of the theater so I have been around it all my life. I’ve done both acting and puppetry. You will really enjoy acting in the Pirates of Penzance. All of Gilbert and Sullivan’s shows are great fun.”

  They went over lines for an hour; Frakes had Kale perform Fredrick’s lines even though Kale was trying out for Samuel. Kale excused himself early to leave for his cleaning shift.

  After practice with Frakes, the other officers left together still signing the chorus from the dance number in act two. They walked past were Reggie was working. The maintenance robot was on duty replacing panels whose chronometers had expired in a remote hallway. Reggie paused his work while the men passed. Soon the echoes of their chorus faded... “Come, friends, who plough the sea, Truce to navigation; Take another station; Let's vary piracee with a little burglaree!”

  As soon as the men were clear, Reggie finished the process of replicating the wall panel. As the new panel shimmered into place, a sudden flash of energy pulsed and the entire hallway lit with plasma as the new conduit failed to seal.

  The force of the energy shot the screaming Reggie twenty feet down the hallway scorching his newly re-plated torso and melting his plastic dome.

  Warning alarms sounded and the annoying klaxon horn buzzed. Force fields automatically actuated, isolating the passage. Power to that section of the ship was down. Engineers and security crew materialized as they were transported into the safe areas beyond the isolating field to assess the damage.

  They quickly extinguished Reggie who had been blown clear before the forcefields triggered and transported him to the robotics maintenance area. Soon the fires were out, and the captain was called.

  Upon close inspection, they found the new panel Reggie had just replaced was off its mark by a few millimeters. That was impossible. Somehow, all the safety protocols and precision location technology had failed. Just like it had on Falcon Station.

  Belle got a call from Frakes, waking her. “Captain needs you to his office right away, Belle. Sorry, I can’t get you out of trouble this time,” Commander Frakes said.

  “What are you talking about? Stop bothering me,” Belle said as she tried to wake up.

  “Oh, not me darlin’, the captain wants you in his office pronto; one of your robots nearly blew the ship to bits.” Frakes voice had a special disdain when he said the word robot.

  Belle disconnected and verified the incident. Then, she dressed quickly and went directly to the captain’s office.

  ***

  “Sir, I assure you,” Belle addressed the captain. “I followed all the quarantine procedures to the letter. There is no way that our robots have picked up any kind of virus from my handling of the Falcon station’s data. There has to be another source of contamination.”

  “I believe you tried your best, Yeoman, but this time that wasn’t good enough. The plain facts remain: our robots are doing the same thing the station’s robots did. For now, I must curtail all unnecessary robotic preventive maintenance. I want our human engineers to perform these duties on an as-needed basis. And I want the experts you’ve been working with from Tark Industries’ Robotics Team summoned. This is far too important for us to try to tackle by ourselves.”

  “Sir, you know that I used to work for Tark Robotics?” Belle said. “They won’t be able to do anything more than I can do.”

  “Yes, of course, that’s why I’m allowing you to continue your investigation. But I want Tark’s people to take the lead when they get here. I want you to fully cooperate with their recommendations. This is an order, understood?”

  “Yes, sir,” Belle said.

  Chapter 9

  Nigel stood there, resplendent in his cheese-adorned wedding suit. He wasn't allowed to sit before the ceremony. He could only wait there in the prenuptial chamber, otherwise known as the kitchen of the Lactarian star base.

  Long braids of stringy Mozzarella bedecked his neck and shoulders. Tiny rounds of Gorgonzola were strung like beads about his head. Shirtless, a great orange swathe of Cheddar was made into his vest. A small expertly-made bow tie of Berkswell decorated his neck. A naughty Swiss peek-a-boo cummerbund encircled his midriff, exposing his belly button when he turned. His pants were flat white Asiago with sharp creases. Beneath all of this, he wore shorts made from the finest cheesecloth. He was a female turophile’s dream, the ultimate wedding cheese platter, featuring the groom.

  The old Nigel would have given the owner of suc
h an outrageous outfit a healthy ration of teasing. But Nigel was a changed man. It had only been a week and gone was the happy-go-lucky rising young entrepreneur. He was a shell, or more accurately, a wax rind, of his former self.

  When Nigel had gone to meet the Lactarians on Falcon Station, he’d never expected to end up here, standing in a cheese suit and engaged to the Grand Lactoria’s daughter.

  Nigel wondered how this had happened. Sure, Max Quibbler had set up the deal for the pearls, but had he thrown in Nigel as part of the deal? If he ever got out of this mess, he and Max would need to have a serious chat about their partnership.

  Nigel had given up hope of rescue, and he blamed himself. He’d been so afraid of being caught he’d removed the tracking chip from his ID tag and placed it in a special container Quibbler had given him to shield its signal. When the deal with the Lactarians started going sour, he swallowed the chip, planning to retrieve it later. What he hadn’t planned on was a low fiber, intestinally-binding, cheese-based diet. Let’s just avoid the details and just say it had taken much longer than expected for Nigel to retrieve his tiny comm chip. Then once he had, he’d used it to put a coded distress signal out over the net. But that was days ago, and he’d heard nothing back. He had no way to know if the device still worked. It was too late anyway, he was only minutes away from being wed and becoming the new prince of Lactosia.

  Perhaps he would just have to resign himself to a future as the trophy husband of the eldest daughter of Lactosia’s royal family. Sure, he’d be richer than Sam, like he’d always wanted, but as he stared into the mirror, he couldn’t help but think of what he’d lost.

  It’s so de-grating, he thought. Yet, the last thing he wanted to see right now was a giant cheese grater.

  The ceremony would be far different from any he’d ever seen before. Protocol tutors had described the ceremony, giving him lessons in what he was required to do. They’d also made it clear that if he broke any of their traditions, it might be fatal for him. He figured he had nothing to gain by fighting it, there was no hope.