Part 16 (1/2)
Pierce-Arro sent a mild electric surge through the bridge's bathroom, and suddenly,the Frank Poole android, guided by the lizard Pierce's intelligence, burst out, cursing a blue streak. He looked around, then folded his arms adamantly across his chest. ”I'm not joining hands with anyone until the general gets his just deserts from society,” he announced.
”But you are the general!” protested Marshmallow.
”Who's going to take the word of a lying lizard who's trying to avoid punishment?” said the general, contorting Frank Poole's mouth into a contemptuous smile. ”You've disobeyed orders, seriously impaired the success of your mission, and eaten a fellow officer. It's only natural that you'd lie to protect yourself.”
”This is getting terribly confusing,” said Captain Roosevelt. ”It's getting so one scarcely knows what to believe anymore.”
”You can't seriously suggest that if I'm found innocent, you plan on taking orders from a humanoid android called Frank Poole?” said the general.
”I can't even seriously suggest that we'll find you innocent,” replied Roosevelt. ”However, it seems to me that it would be in everyone's best interest if you would join hands and make the transfer. That way, if you are the general, we'll know who to torture.”
”And if I'm not, and they put me into the general's body?” persisted the lizard Pierce.
”Then it will be a gross miscarriage of justice, for which I apologize in advance, but which I must point out is statistically acceptable once in every 633 cases.”
”What makes you think the last 632 people you tortured were guilty?” demanded the general.
”The same statistical tables,” replied Roosevelt smugly. ”After all, if they weren't guilty, we wouldn't have tortured them, would we?”
While they had been speaking, Marshmallow had edged closer and closer to the general.
Now, with a sudden swat of her tail, she flipped him straight up in the air and caught him firmly in her reptilian claws on the way down.
”Put me down!” screamed the general. ”You can't do this to me!” He caught his breath and then continued: ”I demand trial by my peers. Find me a jury of twelve Frank Pooles good and true and I'll take my chances, but I'm not putting up with this treatment without a fight!”
”Fight all you want to,” said Pierce. ”But I'm getting my body back, and that's that.”
He clasped the general's artificial hand in his left hand, then took Marshmallow's claw in his right. XB-223 joined them a moment later, and then Pierce-Arro demanded that they all concentrate on their original bodies while he intoned a mystic chant (thereby supplicating Daddy or G.o.d, whichever came first, to help them) and simultaneously created a quasi-negatronic electric field around them.
They stood motionless for a few minutes.
”Well?” demanded Daddy at last.
”You d.a.m.ned charlatan!” bellowed Pierce, who found himself still inside Marshmallow's shapely body. ”I thought you said this would work!”
”No, I never did,” said Pierce-Arro defensively. ”I said it might work.”
”It worked just perfectly,” lied the general, stretching his body as if trying on a new suit of clothes. ”I can already feel myself thinking abstract android thoughts and feeling pa.s.sionate android longings. Officer,” he added, addressing Roosevelt, ”arrest that traitor!” He pointed an accusing finger at his former body.
”I'm going to have to think this over very carefully,” replied Captain Roosevelt. He sidled over to Nathan Bolivia. ”If this is typical of your universe, I don't know how you guys get through the day.”
”Unofficially, I quite agree with you,” replied Bolivia.
”Unofficially?” repeated the reptile.
”I have no official standing here,” Bolivia reminded him. ”Actually, I'm just an Unseen Observer.”
Roosevelt muttered something unintelligible and lowered his ma.s.sive head in thought.
”Whew!” exclaimed XB-223. ”For a minute there my whole life flashed before my eyes. You have no idea how dull six thousand miles of printed memory circuits can be to look at.” He smiled brightly,. ”Well, now that that's over, what's all this about tape?”
”We must save the universe, or at least determine that it cannot or should not be saved,” said Pierce-Arro grimly. ”I'm sorry to be so inexact, but theology can be very confusing, especially when G.o.d may be glaring at you. Anyway, while I am sorry that I could not effect the return of our original bodies, I feel we have already wasted enough time. I must impress all of you into service immediately.”
”Afraid not, friend,” said Nathan Bolivia. ”I mean, I'm as hot to save the universe as the next man-speaking unofficially, of course-but I'm only authorized to save Sector X3110J8. But if there's anything I can do in my sector, just say the word and I'll put it through channels and I'll be at your beck and call in no time at all.” He paused thoughtfully. ”Well, practically no time.
Actually, I should estimate three to four months, given the current shortfall of help at headquarters, and the change in my s.h.i.+p's name, and my own somewhat uncertain status. But count me in as soon as possible.”
”Well, I'm certainly not helping you,” said Captain Roosevelt. This isn't even my universe.”
”What do you think, Pierce?” demanded Daddy, looking at the voluptuous body of his daughter.
”Me?” said Pierce, startled.
”You're the only one who's made any sense so far,” said Daddy. ”Everyone else keeps worrying about tapes and regulations and torture-all perfectly delightful subjects, except maybe for tapes and regulations-but you and you alone have stuck to your guns. You want your old body back, and to h.e.l.l with everything else. You're not going to get it, of course, but it seems to me that this makes you a perfect impartial observer.”
”That's Unseen Observer, and I'm it,” put in Bolivia.
”Shut up!” snapped Daddy. ”Well, Pierce, what do you think? Do I seem exceptionally G.o.dly to you?”
”Not exceptionally so, no,” admitted Pierce.
”So what do you think we should do?” continued Daddy.
Pierce shrugged, a gesture which brought all the human males (and three of the more imaginative reptiles) to immediate attention. ”I suppose we might as well do what the computer asks,” he said at last. ”I know the lizards are here to conquer us. I only suspect the computer is.
”Thanks for reminding me,” broke in Captain Roosevelt. ”Feinstein!” he bellowed.
”Sir?” said his lieutenant, stepping forward and offering a snappy salute.
”Take all these disgusting humanoid creatures out and shoot them.”
”May I point out that we're inside a s.p.a.ces.h.i.+p on an uncharted planet and the air outside is poisonous, sir?”
”A point well taken,” said Roosevelt. ”Shoot 'em where they stand. The general, too.”
”Sir,” said Feinstein, ”there is nothing I would like better personally than to shoot these foul- smelling humanoids, except maybe for the one with the extra pair of lungs who keeps calling herself Pierce for reasons that I don't fully understand.”
”Good!” said Roosevelt emphatically. ”Go to it!”
”As I was saying, sir,” continued Feinstein, ”there is nothing that would give me more pleasure, but I'm afraid it is out of the question.”
”Are you disobeying a direct order, Feinstein?” demanded Roosevelt.
”No, sir. But may I respectfully remind the captain that my specialty is Maiming and Pillaging? I am not allowed, under article 6374, Subparagraph Q of the Manual of Arms, to shoot anyone even in self-defense. Of course,” he added helpfully, ”I could maim them a little while you send for a Riflery Unit.”
”Send for one?” repeated Roosevelt. ”Don't we have one with us?”
”I don't believe so, sir,” said Feinstein.
”Then why are you all carrying weapons?” demanded Roosevelt.