by I K Dirac
De la Beche looked at the box warily and then at Corporal Washington.
“I’d rather you didn’t point it at me darling.” He turned toward Schickelgrosser. “Absolutely splendid weapons, Major! Thank you so much for showing them to me.”
Schickelgrosser turned towards his men, barking out orders. They picked up their weapons, formed up and, resuming their chant, marched out of the back of the hold.
We are mighty! We are free!
We are Astromican infantry!
All for one and one for all.
Out of our way, ’cos we walk tall!
If you try to start a fight...
Jim watched them go. Big arc lights lit them from below on one side and, as they marched, each magnificent buttock was thrown alternately into light and shade. It seemed almost as if they were winking at him.
20
Jim pondered the question that had been nagging for some time. His tasks for the day in Culpepper’s surgery were mostly done, and in any event the Doctor was sleeping off the effects of a dose of his favourite elixirs and would not be compos mentis for some time. He had become intrigued by Mandragore and the Principia Ontologica. Sage or madman? How could he tell? He decided to consult the oracle once more in search of possible enlightenment and queried the terminal:
What is Quantum Theodynamics?
An answer scrolled into view.
Quantum Theodynamics
Quantum Theodynamics, in essence, describes the interaction of ultra-relativistic deitic entities with the material world. Its origins are to be found in the time-independent Hummdinger equation, now part of the Standard Model of Quantum Theology.1
Ĥ|Θ> = X|Θ>
where Θ (theta) is the wave function of the quantized system, X the theoenergy level and Ĥ the modified Hamiltonian operator. The solutions to the equation are termed the eigenvalues of theodicy.2
Quantum Theodynamics, developed by Quolkingorne and Eidenberg, extends the non-relativistic Hummdinger equation into the ultra-relativistic domain. Three of its major findings are:
There exists a field, the Theocratic Field,3 extending at non-zero value throughout space. It does not interact with inanimate matter, but may interact strongly with sentient systems, affecting behaviour and beliefs. Its carrying particle is the Archangel boson.
The Theon or God Particle exists as a superposition4 of all possible deities. In the conventional Hagendaas interpretation, only when observed (worshipped) does its wave function collapse and crystallize into a particular form.5 Crystallization takes the form of levels. The first, or ground state, is the monotheistic level. The next allows a maximum of eight demigods while higher levels can accommodate multiple semi-demigods and demi-semi-demigods.
The ultra-relativistic nature of quantum theodynamics produced formalisms that were quadratic and therefore implied two sets of solutions, positive and negative. Initially, negative solutions were rejected, as the idea of negative gods was considered meaningless. However, Nixtsche has pointed out that the negative value was in fact the Manichaean solution6 and that the theory predicted that each god has an anti-deity, with similar powers and properties, but opposite proclivities. This interpretation is not generally accepted, although experiments to contact anti-deities are still being conducted.7
Princ. Ont., vol ii, ch 35, pp 590-7
References
1. See R. J. Oerfur, A Theory of Everything and More – Quantum Theology Explained, Pluto Press, for a detailed treatment of the Standard Model.
2. The eigenvalues from this equation form a discrete spectrum of values, so, mathematically, theoenergy must be quantized. A development of this theory, the Gaudi Exclusion Principle, states that no two deities can have the same quantum numbers and therefore cannot occupy the same spiritual space.
3. According to the Standard Model, the Theocratic Field exists throughout space and breaks certain symmetry laws, allowing exchange of Archangel bosons between deities and sentient entities.
4. This refers to a property of solutions to the modified Hummdinger equation; since the equation is linear, any linear combination of solutions will also be a solution. Consequently all possible deities can exist in superposition in a single particle.
5. In the so-called Many Heavens interpretation, the waveform never collapses. Instead the Universe continually splits and different deities emerge in each.
6. Manichaean ideas considerably predate the development of quantum theodynamics. Although Nixtsche's interpretation has not been generally accepted, this has not prevented some from claiming that it provides the basis for a mathematical treatment of evil.
7. See J. Gouter Hanegrad and J, Godfrey Kristal, Malleus Maleficarum Encoded: Eros and Sexuality in the History of Esotericism, Denebian University Press.
21
Major Schickelgrosser stood in front of his assembled men and felt the most delicious aggression build up in his mind and body. Training was about to begin and training – pushing the finest body of men anywhere in the Galaxy far beyond what even they thought they were capable – was the very stuff of life.
Training was not just something he was good at. He was supreme. And he wanted everyone to be aware of the fact. He had invited Captain de la Beche and several of his associates to admire his mastery of military instruction. In his opinion the Bountiful was in severe need of some military discipline.
The first, and most important, step – and having had a look at some of its crew, this was where he considered the Bountiful was particularly deficient – was to prepare the mind. Who was it who said, “In battle, morale to materiel is as ten to one”? Some foreigner, he rather suspected, but no matter. On this occasion, the foreigner was right. Get the mind completely focused and the body will perform wonders. He gazed out over a sea of flags.
“Men of the Fifth Company, Special Infantry Services. You are the finest fighting men in the Galaxy. Who do you fight for? God and Astromica! Now let’s hear it. Who do you fight for?”
The company roared back.
“God and Astromica”
“Who do you fight for?”
“God and Astromica!”
“And again! Who do you fight for?”
“God and Astromica!”
Schickelgrosser stepped back a pace, shaking his head. It was always like this on the first day of training. Lethargy rampant. They needed shaking up. He pointed to a man in the first row.
“Step forward, soldier!”
The soldier stepped forward and stood rigidly to attention. Schickelgrosser walked slowly round him, allowing the apprehension to build up.
Suddenly, he let out a roar.
“Do you believe in God, soldier?”
The soldier jerked even more rigid, then yelled back.
“Yes, sir!”
“I can’t hear you, soldier! Do you believe in God??”
“Yes, sir!!”
Every muscle and vein in Schickelgrosser’s neck bulged and his jaw thrust itself forward.
“I still can’t hear you, soldier. Do you believe in God???”
“Yes, sir!!!”
The soldier’s eyes were screwed shut and his face turned red from the effort.
“I can just hear you now, soldier! What does God want you to do, soldier?”
“God wants me to kill, sir!!!”
“Who does God want you to kill, soldier?”
“He wants me to kill enemies of Freedom, sir!!!”
“Why does He want you to kill enemies of Freedom, soldier?”
“Because they hate Freedom, sir!!!”
Schickelgrosser thrust his face within inches of the soldier’s and glared into his eyes for several seconds.
“Back in line, soldier.”
The soldier stepped back smartly. Schickelgrosser gazed out over the ranks. Their stance was tauter, gaze keener. He detected a distinct rise in temperature. Time for some drill.
“By sixes, quick march! Now let’s hear it. Give me Freedom or Give me Death!”
> With perfect coordination, the ranks formed themselves into a column six abreast and started marching round the hangar deck, chanting rhythmically.
“Give me Freedom or Give me Death!”
“Give me Freedom or Give me Death!”
“Give me Freedom or Give me Death!”
“Give me Freedom or Give me Death!”
They marched and chanted for ten minutes.
“By the double, quick march!”
Legs lifted, still chanting in time, they trotted for another five minutes before Schickelgrosser gave the order to halt. He called out one of his men.
“Sergeant Digobert, these men are getting flabby. I want them fit. Press-ups, pop-ups and sit-ups to start with, then some proper weight training. Jump to it!”
“Yes, sir!”
Digobert jumped. Within seconds the entire troupe were engaged in their calisthenics. Schickelgrosser walked over to where the Bountiful party had been watching. De la Beche gave him an appreciative nod and ushered the remaining party back through the hold doors into the main part of the ship.
“Now Major, after that simply splendid demonstration I would like to invite you to HMS Bountiful for a little pre-prandial refreshment.”
Schickelgrosser seemed reluctant.
“Pardon me, Captain, but I’m on Universal Time. It’s only twelve hundred hours, according to my chronometer. I don’t like to drink until the sun is over the yardarm, as you fellows say.”
De la Beche made a wide, sweeping gesture.
“Darling, there are a billion suns out there. One of them is bound to be over any yardarm you care to name. That’s one of the great things about space. The sun is always over the yardarm.”
This seemed to satisfy Schickelgrosser. He assented and they boarded the shuttle to take them to the Bountiful. As they passed through the airlock, Schickelgrosser gazed around him in shock. The shock was compounded as he entered the stateroom. The scent of jasmine was much stronger than on the Bridge and the sound of music louder. The walls were a similar shade of pink, although the colour seemed more intense, and around them hung a series of paintings in the quasi-renaissance style, peopled by numerous maidens and youths, largely in a state of undress, pursued by muscle-bound warriors, black-browed hunters and satyrs, all similarly disrobed and in varying states of priapic excitement.
“After Caravaggio. A long time after I’m afraid, but you can’t have everything. Now, Major, do sit down. What will you drink?”
Schickelgrosser tore his eyes away from the wall.
“Do you have Bourbon, Captain?”
“We have absolutely everything, Major One of the great joys of booty and plunder is that you can always take what you want. I believe we liberated some Bourbon from those rascals who were smuggling drink to – now, what was that planet? The name escapes me, but I do remember it was controlled by a terribly strict religious order – no drink, no dancing, no singing and definitely no you-know-what. Not exactly a bundle of laughs, darling, but prompt payers, I’ll give them that. They discovered that someone was supplying booze to the faithful and hired us to put a stop to it. I believe there was rather a lot of wailing and gnashing of teeth when we apprehended the miscreants.”
He motioned towards the bar, behind which sat Jim.
“Jim, kindly come over and take our order. The Major will have Bourbon – bring the bottle – and ice, Major? A bucket of ice, Jim. Mister Betelgeuse will have his usual.” He leant towards Schickelgrosser. “Alcohol doesn’t agree with Mister Betelgeuse’s constitution. He has a juice from his own planet which he says gives him a most uplifting sensation.” He turned back towards Jim, “Now what will I have? Champagne, Dom Massignon, the ’67, I think. Make sure it’s not the ’66. Vastly overrated and more than a touch too acid for my taste. Bring a bottle here and put another on ice.”
Jim assembled the drinks and brought them over, accompanied by a few nibbles, exotic nuts from equally exotic planets. De la Beche leant back in his chair and delicately sipped his champagne flute.
“The ’67, this is definitely the ’67. I’m getting orange blossom, elderflower and the tiniest hint of vanilla and of course that magnificent finish. It hardly seems to end.”
Schickelgrosser sipped his Bourbon appreciatively. The very finest he had ever tasted. He felt relaxed enough to ask about something that had been bothering him.
“Pardon me, Captain, I hope you don’t mind me asking about that noise. Is it supposed to be singing?”
De la Beche’s eyebrows rose a little.
“That ‘noise’ that you refer to is music by the greatest composer that ever lived, George Frideric Handel. It’s the aria Lascia ch'io pianga from his opera Rinaldo. You must know it.”
Lascia ch'io pianga
mia cruda sorte,
e che sospiri
la libertà.
“’I weep over my cruel fate as I sigh for liberty.’ You to a tee, is it not, Major?”
Schickelgrosser wasn’t quite sure.
“I’m sure it’s very fine music Captain, but I like to listen to Astromican music, you know, Hootenanny and Yeehaw.”
“Ah yes. Women draped in fringes, with hair like birds’ nests, singing about men who did them wrong. Very affecting I’m sure. Is that what your men like as well?”
“Sure is, Captain.”
“A fine body of men, I must say, darling. Nobody would want to tangle with them. Shoot first and ask questions afterwards, eh Major?”
Schickelgrosser’s eyes narrowed.
“We don’t do questions, Captain. We shoot first, second and third – and then again, just to make sure. Not much call for questions after that. We leave questions to limp-wristed wimps, like the Marines.”
De la Beche sipped further from his glass. A pinging sound emanated from a device on his wrist.
“Do excuse me, darlings. A little something I have to attend to on the Bridge. Just make yourselves at home. Jim will look after you.”
He swept out. Schickelgrosser and Mister Betelgeuse sat staring forward in a somewhat embarrassed silence. Eventually, Schickelgrosser coughed.
“Mister Betelgeuse, I hear you’re one of the finest minds in the Galaxy.”
“So kind of you to say so, Captain.”
Schickelgrosser’s face puckered a little, as if thought was becoming more than usually difficult.
“Well, can I ask you a kinda personal question? If you’re so smart, what are you doing here?”
“My people requested I join the ship. We think there is something to learn from Captain de la Beche.”
Schickelgrosser was incredulous.
“You mean your Mom and Pop asked you to join up with a weirdo?”
“I don’t have a Mom and Pop, Major”
The Major’s face showed concern.
“Oh gee, Mister Betelgeuse. I’m sorry. I didn’t realize they had passed on.”
“No need for sorrow, Major. I never had a Mom and Pop.”
You mean you’re an orphan?”
“An orphan, Major?”
“Someone who never had a Mom and a Pop.”
“That, with respect Major, is a somewhat circular definition.”
Schickelgrosser’s voice rose in exasperation.
“I mean you must have had a Mom and a Pop sometime, because how else in tarnation did you get born?”
Mister Betelgeuse nodded slightly in acknowledgement.
“Ah, you mean parturition. The process is not quite the same as for you. On Betelgeuse everybody takes part. We are all part of each other, and as a result we have a collective consciousness.”
Schickelgrosser’s face puckered again as he wrestled with the concept.
“Let me get this straight. You all jump in there to make little Betelgeusians – like some kind of giant gang bang? Mister Betelgeuse, can I ask you a serious question? Are you a communist?”
22
The High Admiral of the Orsonian Battle Fleet picked up a small mirror and gazed with sati
sfaction at his own face, with its lustrous eyes, beautifully pointed ears and nose and burnished, greenish-purple skin. He leant back and bathed in the comfort of his huge office and surveyed the picture of his four wives, sixteen concubines and fifty-three children. Right at this moment, thought the High Admiral, life was good, very good indeed.
Then his reverie was interrupted as Civil Servant 21346 entered. For a few moments he pondered whether interrupting the pleasures of a High Admiral should be made a punishable offence, before deciding on something better. For Orsonians, the anguish of the sexually deprived and dispossessed was the most potent of aphrodisiacs. One glance at the face of Civil Servant 21346 and the sap began to rise in the High Admiral’s loins. He would go home and pleasure at least two of his wives and six of his concubines. He would rut till they screamed with ecstasy and begged him to stop. He would wallow among the soft, perfumed folds of their bodies and bathe in the secretions of lust. He would then return and relate all to the Civil Servant – every detail of every climax, every whimper and caress of every wife and concubine – reducing the Civil Servant to a howling, slobbering heap, barely able to crawl from the room.
He smiled inwardly and turned to Civil Servant 21346
“Yes?”
“High Admiral, the financial newscasts are stating that commercial freight insurance rates to the Orsonian Empire have been raised 1000 per cent.”
“Why are you bothering me with this trivia, Civil Servant 21346? Tell it to the Grand Treasurer; he has little enough else to think about.”
“High Admiral, the rise in insurance means that it is now impossible to hire a freighter to transport Chelodony from Desiderata to Orson and...”
The High Admiral glowered suspiciously.