Part 15 (1/2)

”Spell cat.” ”C-A-T.”

Daddy's eyebrows did a little dance in the vicinity of his hairline. ”Okay-so you're Pierce.

Now where the h.e.l.l is my Emmyjane?”

”Closer than you think,” said Marshmallow.

”You mean they weren't kidding?” said Daddy. He turned to the Frank Poole android. ”And you're really the general?”

”You're getting nothing from me but my name, rank and serial number,” said the general.

”Shut up and let me think!” said Daddy. He turned to Pierce's body. ”Okay. Now, who's this here little wimp?”

”Your ever-loyal XB-223 navigational computer at your service,” said the computer. ”Though now that I have a body, I think I need a fitting name to accompany it.”

”You do, do you?”

The computer nodded. ”I know it's not much of a body, and it's undernourished as h.e.l.l and its gums are in terrible condition, but it's the only body I happen to have at the moment, and I would appreciate everyone calling it Sylvester Schwarzenegger from now on.”

The Pete Rozelle suddenly shuddered.

”All right, what the h.e.l.l was that?” demanded the lizard Pierce.

”Beats the h.e.l.l out of me,” admitted the human Pierce.

”A s.h.i.+p named the Mahatma Gandhi has just landed a shuttle near us, and its commander is now coming aboard,” announced Pierce-Arro.

”We're getting away from the point,” interjected Captain Roosevelt, ”said point being: what the h.e.l.l is going on here?”

”Now that we're all through with these trivial revelations,” said Pierce-Arro, ”I am prepared to make every-thing crystal-clear.”

”What the h.e.l.l's so trivial about turning my daughter into a lizard?” demanded Daddy. ”She's probably going to want a whole new wardrobe now.”

”I have examined XB-223's equations, and I can a.s.sure you that this is a temporary situation, easily alleviated. However, we have a more important problem to cope with.”

”What the h.e.l.l are you talking about?”

”There is a possibility that you, Revered One, are the Supreme Being,” said Pierce-Arro. ”Of course, there is also an equal likelihood that you are simply the holographic representation of a rather unlikeable flesh-andblood man, in which case we'll probably continue with our plans of conquest and do grotesque things to you for having the audacity to impersonate our G.o.d. The problem, of course, is that we don't know which you are. But if you are merely a human being, then there must be some regulation that will make you go away, and then we can get on with the conquest of the universe . . . whereas if you are G.o.d, we'll sacrifice a couple of goats to you, invite you in for a drink, and say a brief prayer before you bring the universe to a cataclysmic end.” Pierce-Arro paused long enough for this statement to sink in. ”We feel this is the only rational course of action. We must proceed as if you are a human, always keeping in mind the fact that you might well be G.o.d, and search for the red tape that counts. If we don't, everything will become chaotic.”

”In case it's escaped your notice, everything is already chaotic,” said Captain Roosevelt.

”We must do this, or the stars will die,” intoned Pierce-Arro, rather pleased with the way his voice sounded on the speaker system. ”The immutable laws will fail.”

”I suppose it will rain toads, too,” scoffed Daddy.

”If you say so,” replied Pierce-Arro devoutly.

”Forget all that other c.r.a.p,” interjected Pierce. ”Go back to the part about how all this stuff with the bodies is just a temporary situation.”

”Yes, please do,” said Roosevelt. ”In his current condition, the general probably couldn't stand up to more than a week of torture.”

”If you insist,” said Pierce-Arro. ”But after I help you restore yourselves to your original forms, do I have your solemn oaths that you will help me look for the red tape?”

”We'll scour the s.h.i.+p,” said Pierce emphatically. ”If you dropped this tape anywhere around here, we'll find it, never fear. Just get us back the way we were and we'll go to work immediately.”

”Would white tape do?” asked Roosevelt. ”We've got tons of adhesive tape back in our infirmary.”

”Fool!” said Pierce-Arro. ”The red tape I am speaking about is a regulation.”

”We ain't got enough regulations?” demanded Marsh-mallow. ”Now you want us to find more?”

”Sometimes I get the distinct impression that your races are too stupid to conquer,” said Pierce-Arro with a heartfelt sigh. ”I suspect we'd better all return to our original bodies first; then maybe you'll be able to concentrate more fully on what I'm saying.”

The commander of the Mahatma Gandhi arrived at just that instant, and was promptly ignored by all parties.

”Suits me,” said Pierce. ”How do we start?”

”You simply link hands and concentrate on the body that was formerly yours. My prodigious mental powers, linked to the s.h.i.+p's computer, will do the rest.”

”You're sure?” asked Pierce dubiously.

”Not really,” admitted Pierce-Arro. ”But it sounds awfully impressive, and besides, I haven't heard any better suggestions. Shall we begin?”

”No!” said the XB-223.

”What do you mean, no?” demanded Pierce.

”It's nothing personal, Millard,” replied the computer. ”I mean, there's n.o.body I'd rather do a good turn to, except maybe f.a.n.n.y Hill, and that would be an entirely different kind of turn, if you understand my clever but subtle play on words . . . but the truth of the matter is that I rather like being a person, if you know what I mean.”

”But it's my body!”

”It was your body. And I might add,” the computercontinued petulantly, ”that you've taken absolutely abysmal care of it. It's nearsighted and underweight and its teeth are filled with cavities and it has fallen arches and it sweats too much. It will take a lot of work putting this body back into shape, Millard. You really should be ashamed of yourself. When's the last time you took it for a long walk? Or let it make pa.s.sionate love to a real woman? The muscle tone is just abysmal.”

”If it's all that terrible, why not just give it back to me?” snapped Pierce.

”Well, it may not be much of a body,” admitted the computer, ”but on the other hand, it's the only one I've got.”

”Take this one,” said Pierce, indicating the body he was wearing and trying to keep the eagerness out of his voice. ”It's much sounder and healthier, and I a.s.sure you that it's far more capable of defending itself.”

”Now just a goldurned minute!” thundered Marsh-mallow, striking the floor a mighty blow with her orange tail. ”Ain't n.o.body else getting that body but me!”

”Well, you see how it is, Millard,” said the computer apologetically. ”I'd help you if I could, but it gets so stuffy in the s.h.i.+p, if you know what I mean.” Pierce muttered an obscenity.

”Don't be like that, Millard,” said XB-223 placatingly. ”I want us to be friends, and I promise you that I will provide nothing but the best for your body: fine Italian pasta, carefully aged champagne, at least one shower a day, and regular dental checkups. And women, Millard-think of the women this body is going to enjoy!”

”It's enough to make me wish I was there,” said Pierce bitterly.

”I'll call you once a week and fill you in on all the details,” promised XB-223. ”Look at it this way, Millard: you're not losing a body, you're gaining a friend.”

”I'd rather lose the friend and have the body back, if it's all the same to you.”