Part 1 (2/2)
”I'm sure.”
”Good,” said the computer. ”I feel much better now that we've had this little chat. By the way, have you got time to receive a Priority One message?”
”Is one coming in?” asked Pierce, suddenly alert. ”They've been trying to raise me for the past ten minutes,” answered the computer.
”Ten minutes! I thought you said it was Priority One?”
”It is.” ”You're supposed to patch those through to me immediately, even in a war zone!”
”But you looked so thoughtful and morose, I didn't want to disturb you. And I am, after all, a Model XB-223 navigational computer, qualified to make value judgments. And besides, you were mad at me.”
”Put it through.”
”Are you still mad?” asked the computer coyly. ”No, G.o.ddammit!” bellowed Pierce.
”I wish you could see the reading I just took of your blood pressure.”
”May I please receive my Priority One message?” asked Pierce, struggling to control his voice and wonder-ing how the h.e.l.l to control his blood pressure. ”If it's not too much trouble for you, that is? I wouldn't want to cause you any inconvenience.”
”No trouble at all,” said the computer, suddenly all business. ”After all, it's my job. In ion storms and meteor showers, come nova or supernova, nothing shall stay the XB-223s from their appointed duties. Had you ever heard that before?”
”No,” said Pierce. ”I never had.”
”I made it up,” said the computer proudly. ”I think it has a certain poetic n.o.bility about it, don't you?” The message?” said Pierce wearily.
”Ah, yes, the message,” said the computer. ”It's coming to you from Earth, by the way. It originates in Woodstock, Illinois, an absolutely lovely little town, population 31,203, mean temperature of 53 degrees, very near the Des Plaines River, which you'll be interested to know has recently undergone antipollution treatments and now abounds in ba.s.s, bluegills, and-”
”The message!”
”Right. The message. By all means. Let me just put it on visual display here.” Suddenly the computer giggled. ”Oh, that tickles! You wouldn't think a computer could be ticklish, especially a sophisticated, highly advanced model like the XB-223, but-”
”The message!”
”Very well. It's coming in now, on Screen 3.”
”Screen 3 is blank,” said Pierce.
”Some people are well bred,” said the computer. ”Some people have manners. Some people say 'thank you' when someone offers to do them a favor, even if it's only a lowly XB-223 navigational computer with no voting rights or s.e.xuality or-”
”Thank you,” interrupted Pierce.
”You're welcome.”
Suddenly the viewscreen lit up, displaying a hologram of a middle-aged woman in stern dress and sterner makeup.
”It's about time!” she said ominously.
”I'm sorry, ma'am,” answered Pierce. ”The computer-”
”Ma'am is a contraction of madam,” interrupted the woman. ”I am not a madam.”
”I'm sorry, sir,” said Pierce, fl.u.s.tered.
”Do I look like a sir to you?” she demanded.
”Go ahead-tell her,” whispered the computer.
”No, Supervisor,” said Pierce.
”That's better,” said the woman. ”Now suppose we start again-and do it according to form this time.”
”Millard Fillmore Pierce, Cla.s.s 2 Arbiter, receiving your message, Supervisor.”
”Very well, Arbiter Pierce. This is Supervisor Collier with a Priority One message.”
”I know,” said Pierce.
”Of course you know,” said Supervisor Collier irritably. ”But the protocol was created for a reason, and we must observe it at all times.”
”Yes, Supervisor.”
”Now, then, Pierce,” she continued, ”I have a new a.s.signment for you, which takes precedence over those on which you are now working. Where are you located at this moment?”
”I'm not quite sure.”
”You're what?”
”It's a long story,” said Pierce. ”Can you just tell me what the a.s.signment entails?”
”All right,” said Supervisor Collier, absently tugging at her left earlobe, which was considerably larger than its counterpart. ”Now listen carefully, Pierce. This connec-tion is using a lot of energy, and I don't want to have to repeat everything twice.”
”Right.”
”As you may or may not know, a minor war has broken out between Cathia and Galladrial, which for our purposes we will call Aldebaran IX and Komonos V. Earth has declared itself to be neutral in this conflict, although of course we do support Galladrial in its war against the heathen totalitarians of Atra II.”
”Of course,” said Pierce.
”To continue: Promenade, which we shall officially term Lambda Gamma IV, commissioned a battles.h.i.+p from the state of Hawaii, which as you know is on Earth. Are you following me so far?”
Pierce nodded.
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