Part 18 (1/2)
For a moment they all stared at him. Finally, Pierce called out to those now inhabiting the computer. ”Hey! You two in there! Can you tell us how he did that or where he went?”
”Very little functions correctly anymore,” Pierce-Arro responded, ”but, for the record, we'd say he's back aboard the Gandhi, whatever Gandhi they're calling them-selves this week, we suppose.”
”Do we have any power at all?”
”Some. More than they thought, we suspect, but not enough to do any good. If so, we'd blast that Gandhi s.h.i.+pfor its blasphemy. We know what G.o.d looks like, and it isn't that little deflated wimp!”
Pierce sighed and sank into the command chair. ”Well, then, that's it, I guess. How much time do you think we've got?”
”Hard to say. If you all wouldn't breathe, the air would last much longer. They rerouted the food synthesizer into the sewage system, which is great for efficiency but not for actually eating anything. It just keeps making foul-looking stuff and immediately vaporizing it in the garbage, taking the energy and remaking foul-looking stuff and immediately-”
”We get the idea.” Pierce sighed.
”The water system isn't much better, but by alternately idling the main engines while inducing maintenance fluids it is possible to recover a liquid that the data banks of this hunk of junk say is safe for you to drink. Of course, there's the question to answer first before we can do it.”
”Huh? What?”
”Why should we? It takes energy, and the mains are depleted. Besides, we are here to conquer you and it seems practical to withhold needed substances until you accept the truth. That goes for you, too, General. No more juice.”
The android considered it. ”All right, then, I admit you have us, and I am certain my, er, colleagues here will agree. We are at your mercy.”
Pierce saw where he was going and nodded. ”Yes, that's right. We surrender. We're conquered and your prisoners.”
”Hmmm . . . And what about the other fellow?” The two Pierces looked at the XB-223 navigational computer who was otherwise occupied.
”Stop that or you'll go blind!” Pierce shouted.
Sly, the former XB-223, paused and frowned. ”How can this action possibly be related to visual sensory patterns?”
”Trust that I know more about human bodies than you do,” Pierce said sincerely.
”But the sensations are most interesting and, besides, I watched you-”
Pierce cleared his throat. ”Enough! We'll discuss that sort of thing later. Right now we need you to surrender.”
”Surrender! Certainly not! Sly does not surrender to anyone!” He paused a moment.
”Surrender to who?”
”The pair now inside your old self. Without them we get nothing and we die.”
”Sly” stood up and tried to look heroic. ”Ah! But better to die a real, live man, free and pure of heart, than to live a slave to some conquering things we can't even see!” He bounded over to Pierce and went down on one knee. ”Come, my darling! Teach me the mysteries of love in the time we have left, and we shall die in each other's arms!”
”Knock it off! This is me in here, you idiot! And that's my body you're in!”
”So? We don't have time to really get to know each other anyway. Superficialities like appearance will have to do. It seems to me that you are using different criteria on yourself than you used in this body on other women. You cannot blame me for that. You taught me everything I know about this!”
Pierce coughed nervously. He hoped he hadn't looked and sounded that dumb and superficial-but he was very afraid that he had. It wasn't as much fun being on the other end of this sort of thing. Still, he began to realize just how naive this dumb computer version really was.
”It's not that easy . . . Sly,” he said coyly. ”First, you have to do a few things for me.”
”Anything, my sweet! Name it!”
”Surrender to the nice aliens in your old circuits,” he said softly.
Sly swallowed hard. ”For you-anything! Uh-if I surrender, will you be mine?”
”We'll both be theirs, actually. But we'll live a little longer. I won't promise anything, but I will promise that I'll spurn your every advance if you don't surrender this minute!”
”Oh, very well. I surrender.”
Pierce smiled. ”All right, aliens. You win. You've conquered us. We're your prisoners. Now we're your responsibility, totally and completely, until you turn us over to higher authority, right?”
”Hmmm . . . Hadn't thought of that,” Pierce-Arro responded. ”Yes, I suppose that is the requirement. Very well. I will try and squeeze a biologically compatible liquid from the engine regions. It will satisfy thirst and might also contain sufficient calories for energy for awhile. It will buy time.”
”What about me?” android-Pierce asked. ”I need juice.
”All right. Plug in below in the android storage receptacle. We'll divert some power from the engines into there-that should give you a charge.”
”Thank you, sir. Spoken like a true conqueror,” the general responded. ”Uh-might I ask, just out of curiosity, what your longterm plan is? I mean, how you're going to get us out of here before those seals start popping?”
”Well, that's the real problem,” Pierce-Arro admitted. ”I believe I could build sufficient force to get us well out of here, but at the cost of blowing almost all the seals. And, of course, regulations would prohibit me from depriving prisoners of air once they'd duly surrendered. It could get us brought up for war crimes. And, of course, some of my essential circuits go right through those places.”
”Then what-?”
”We think that the reptiles will give us a good twenty-four hours to come apart. After that, they'll grow impatient, bored, and fearful that someone might show up to effect a rescue that they can't handle. If that happens, they will finish us.”
”Twenty-four hours! That's not much time!”
”Oh, it is more than sufficient. We have established a tentative dialog with the dreadnought's navigational computer.”
Sly looked up suddenly. ”The fickle fiend!”
”Yes, you certainly made a mess of it at the start, didn't you? We're getting along much better.
It seems that our way of thinking is much more sympatico with it than yours. Ah-here comes the data now. If they decide to finish us, they will initiate the paperwork, cut the orders, commence the procedures, and put the wheels in motion to do so. They can't do that until they complete filing and processing the paperwork from the action up to this point. Otherwise they'll flood the system and it'll jam up. So, given the number of forms and approvals for past actions, then the number required to initiate additional action . . . I'd say we're safe here for about four- point-six years.”
Pierce was appalled. ”And I thought we were bogged down!”
”Perhaps a decade if they use computers,” Pierce-Arro added hopefully. ”More than enough time for our own great, grand, glorious invasion fleet to arrive and get us out of here.”
”But we don't have enough supplies to last that long!” Pierce objected. ”Even the air won't recirculate that long!”
”That is a point, of course. Therefore, there is the other plan.”
”What other plan?”
”Well, I'd think it would be obvious. We pray to Daddy to save us.”