After fourteen days with that annoying woman, Earth-324 was finally visible on Freem's viewscreen.
Jubie's face lit up like a little girl when she saw it. Like all women in Freem's opinion, she was a bother until she smiled. For a brief moment they could almost have been friends.
"Isn't it beautiful, Freem?" she asked, hypnotized by the blue-green planet.
"Beautiful," he agreed.
There was an awkward moment of silence, but Freem took care of it, saying "Well... We'd better get to work."
Jubie nodded. "I'll hook up the radio."
She pressed a few buttons on the control panel.
"TRANSCEIVER OPERATIONS INITIATED," the computer said.
"BROADCASTING ON ALL RADIO CHANNELS."
Jubie crossed her fingers and spoke into the microphone. "Inhabitants of planet Earth number three twenty four, this is the ISS Papierkrieg of Manifest Central. We have come to welcome you to the Galaxy. Manifest Destiny!"
The greeting was a little warm for Freem's taste, but this was her mission.
A minute or so passed, but there was no answer.
"Inhabitants of Earth-324," she said again. "This is the Interstellar Ship Papierkrieg. Please respond."
Again, no answer.
"Computer," Freem said. "Are you sure the radio's working?"
"DIAGNOSING... AFFIRMATIVE. FEEDBACK INDICATES THAT RADIO WAVES
ARE BEING TRANSMITTED IN ACCORDANCE WITH MANIFEST REGULATIONS NINE SEVEN
THREE SIX THROUGH NINE SEVEN FOUR TWO."
"What about their radio? Could there be some sort of atmospheric interference?" Jubie asked.
"SCANNING PLANET... NO RADIO EMISSIONS DETECTED. ANALYSIS... GLOBAL
DISASTER HAS LEAD TO ANNIHILATION OF ALL INTELLIGENT LIFE ON THE PLANET."
"What??" Jubie gasped.
Freem waved for her to calm down. "Computer, scan for any other signs of civilization."
"SCANNING... THERE ARE APPROXIMATELY SEVEN HUNDRED MEDIUM TO LARGE
CITIES ON THE SURFACE, MOSTLY CONCENTRATED ON THE LARGEST OF THE TWO CONTINENTS.
OF THESE, FIVE ARE LARGE ENOUGH TO SUSTAIN A POPULATION ABOVE FIVE HUNDRED
THOUSAND."
"And life signs?" he asked.
"SCANNING... THERE ARE APPROXIMATELY FOUR POINT EIGHT BILLION HUMANOIDS
ON THE SURFACE AT THIS TIME."
"And no radio?" Jubie asked.
"SCANNING... STILL NO RADIO EMISSIONS DETECTED. ANALYSIS... GLOBAL DISASTER
HAS LEAD TO ANNIHILATION OF ALL INTELLIGENT LIFE ON THE PLANET."
"Idiotic machine," Jubie said.
"It's not idiotic," Freem countered. "If it tells us there was a disaster wiping out intelligent life down there, then there was a disaster."
"But there are cities and people!"
The girl had no concept of reality. "Well they're probably all morons or something."
"THAT WOULD INTERFERE WITH COLONIZATION REGULATION THREE ONE NINE
EIGHT," the computer pointed out.
"Well obviously we'll have to gather up a team and do some research then," Freem said. "Let's turn this ship around."
"LAYING IN A COURSE FOR MANIFEST CENTRAL..."
Jubie jumped from her chair. "Wait just a minute!" she said.
"What?"
"I haven't come almost three hundred and fifty light years just to turn around at the last minute. My family has spent a million years working for this planet!"
"Please," Freem said. "Be reasonable. There's obviously a problem here, and Reunification protocol demands further study."
"Screw the protocol," she said. "I'm sick of protocol. We're not leaving until we figure out what's going on."
"Ready engines," Freem said flatly.
"ENGINES READY."
"I don't think so," Jubie said. She reached in her purse and took out a small object and pointed it at his head. "This is my friend, the Splatmaster laser gun. I brought it along just in case something like this happened. If you make one more move without my permission, this ship's population is going to drop by... Oh, fifty percent or so."
"Do you have a permit for that?" Freem asked. She leveled it with his nose. "Alright," he said. "Computer, resume orbit."
"ORBITAL SEQUENCE RESUMED."
"Take off your jacket," she said. He did, and she tied its sleeves around his chest and the back of his chair tightly enough that he couldn't get up.
But no one beat Freem that easily. He looked the girl straight in the face, and when she locked eyes with him, he pressed a little button in the arm of his chair.
"SECURITY SYSTEMS ENGAGED," the computer announced.
"Put the gun down," Freem said.
She held it steady.
"DISPATCHING SECURITY DROID."
"This is your last chance," he told her.
The gun wavered, but then resumed it's position before his nose. "I have to do this," she said.
Behind her, the security droid rolled into the room. Its optical scanners whirled and clicked and locked on to Jubie's form.
"Big mistake," said Freem.
---------
Jubie backed up, knowing that it might be all over for her. She knew she should drop the gun, but if she did that it would just mean a few months of corrective behavioral modification and then a lifetime back at some desk job. The stakes were too great to give up.
"Freeze or he's history," she told the droid, but it kept moving towards her. She shot at it, but it took the blast without a problem.
"The thing's indestructible," Freem said. "Come on, Jubie. Drop the gun."
She pointed the gun back at his head. "Turn it off," she told him.
"I'm sorry," he said. "It's completely out of my control."
There was no place to run. The droid was in range. She closed her eyes and braced herself for the worst.
Nothing happened. No blast of white hot laser fire, no searing pain, nothing.
She opened her eyes.
The droid stood directly in front of her, silently spewing page after page of paper.
"Your career is over," Freem sneered.
She laughed. "Maybe, but for the moment I'm in charge here, and we're going to figure out what's going on with this planet. You can either cooperate, or..." She put the gun right on the tip of Freem's nose.
"Oh, I'll cooperate alright," Freem said. "But keep in mind that a fleet of accountants is going to get here in a day or two. Once they do, they'll get me out of this, and when we get back, I'm going to sue you for every cent you own. We had a preassociation agreement."
"Whatever you say, Freem. Computer, scan for satellites."
"SCANNING... THERE ARE THREE SATELLITES IN ORBIT AROUND THE PLANET.
ONE NATURAL, TWO ARTIFICIAL."
"See?" Jubie said, "They are intelligent. Do they have radio?"
"ANALYZING... ONE OF THE ARTIFICIAL SATELLITES IS EQUIPPED WITH RADIO."
She grinned. "Well, hail it!"
"HAILING ON ALL CHANNELS..."
Freem was laughing at her. "You're overlooking something," he said. The guy was so smug about everything. She wondered if she should shoot him.
"ATTENTION ALL USERS. WE'RE BEING HAILED..."
"Well, let's hear it," she said.
The radio cackled to life. "Inhabitants of Earth-324," it said. "This is the Interstellar Ship Papierkrieg. Please respond."
Freem found it hilarious. "I told you," he said. "The only thing with radio up here is us."
"I bet you think you're smart. Computer, what about the other artificial one? What is it?"
"SCANNING... ANALYZING... APPARENT FUNCTION OF THIS SATELLITE IS COMMUNICATION."
"Well, access it," she said.
"ACCESSING... ERROR: UNABLE TO ACCESS COMMUNICATIONS SATELLITE... SATELLITE DOES NOT CONFORM
TO ANY KNOWN FORM OF COMMUNICATIONS EQUIPMENT... CONCLUSION: NOT A COMMUNICATIONS SATELLITE."
"Then what is it?" she asked.
"SCANNING... ANALYZING... APPARENT FUNCTION OF THIS SATELLITE IS COMMUNICATION."
She shot the thing out of frustration.
"BAD COMMAND OR FILE NAME," it said.
"You're pretty good with machines," Freem observed. She moved towards him, almost tripping over the security droid, which had finally stopped spewing paper.
"Help me," she said, pointing the gun at him.
"Untie me and put the gun away and I will."
She wasn't sure if she should trust him.
"Oh come on," he said. "My case is airtight already."
"Alright. I'll untie you. But no funny business." She'd always wanted to say that, but never had a chance working nine to five seven days a week.
She undid the jacket she'd tied him down with, allowing him to stand. The gun was self-holstering, so it strapped itself to her right thigh where it could be easily grabbed if need be.
"Now, since you don't have a book to go by here, you're going to have to apply some of your own knowledge," she told him. He didn't appear too distraught the uncanny concept. "So what do you suggest we do? And remember, your life is riding on this."
Freem sighed. "I suppose we could try to find out as much as we can before actually landing on the planet - if you're still convinced that's a good idea. The Genesis-324 should be close by, and-"
"What?"
"The Watchmen!" he said. "They should have at least responded to our hail."
"What, are you actually curious about something?" she asked.
He gave her his usual cold look. "It's strange, that's all. Computer, scan the surface for Watchman-class androids."
"NASKING..."
"I think you fried the speech circuits with that laser blast," Freem said.
"TOO SOPPIBLE DANDICATES COLATED. NUNS FENIDATELY WASHMOON, THUTHER REVY SIMMERLI."
"What's it saying?" Jubie asked.
"How should I know? Shooting it probably wasn't the best idea."
"So our computer's dead?"
"The Genesis will have compatible speech components. Not to mention the logs from the Watchmen. We could just use the other ship, but it's got a million years of dust inside and it's a little too big for us anyway."
"Then let's go," Jubie said. "Computer, where is the Genesis?"
"NASKING MYSTEM... NESEGIS SHARSTIP COLATED... OCORNIDATES NUNS WENTY ROURF WEEST
BY TIFFY REETH THOUS ON LONLY TANTRAL TESSELATE."
She looked at Freem, but he just shrugged. "Take us there," she said.
"WEEVING BORBIT... NISHIATING BORBILAT CEPRODURES NAROWND TESSELATE."
"That was quick," Freem said.
She checked the viewscreen. "We're in orbit around the moon. Computer, take us down and set up a pressure tunnel between us and the ship."
"DANDLING... LEAPS TISS NOWD."
"What?" she asked. Before Freem could answer, they were both knocked to the ground as the Papierkrieg entered the thin atmosphere around the moon.
"DANDLING TOMPLEEK... NISHIATING RESSURPS LENTLE."
The airlock slid open suddenly. A tunnel extended from it, and there was a faint light at the other end. "After you," Jubie said.
She followed Freem through the tunnel. It was only about nine feet long, so they reached the other side quickly.
The Genesis-324 was slowly waking from a million-year sleep. There were few lights on at first, but more came up one by one, and soon the ship seemed to be glowing bright white all over. Thousands of microscopic robots began cleaning everything in sight.
"WELCOME PAPIERKRIEG," the computer said to them. "MANIFEST DESTINY."
"Does it use those circuits we need when it accesses the Watchmen's logs?"
Freem shook his head. "I doubt it."
"Good. Get to work taking them out. Computer, bring me the black box."
"LOADING. PLEASE WAiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiii..."
Freem had the speech circuits out already, she saw. It was just another piece of green plastic with wires and other funny things on it, as far as she could tell.
A little black droid rolled into the room. "Beep beep," it said. There was a small screen and keyboard built into it's head. Jubie motioned for Freem to get to work on it.
"It's the black box recording alright. This is extremely odd."
"What?" she asked.
"The five Watchmen were supposed to take turns logging reports. At one entry every fifty years, there should be about twenty thousand files here.."
"So how many are there?"
"Only two!"
"Two files in one million years?"
"That's what it looks like. Those androids are going to have some serious explaining to do once the other ships get here.... Naturally, so will you," he added.
Jubie patted her gun. "Play them," she commanded.
Freem pressed a few buttons, and the droid's speakers came to life.
"Year one: Watchman entry number one," said a digital voice.
The recording which followed sounded almost human, which was natural since the
Watchmen were designed to pass for human beings until only a few hundred years
before Reunification. The voice sounded human, but it's message made no sense
whatsoever. It said: "Be not fooled by imitations! Even cheddars bask in the
glory of the bouncing baby aardvarks. Oh, the sorrow of a friendly lilac turned to
dust! Where do poet-androids go to rust?"
"Are you sure that's set right?" Jubie asked.
Freem pressed some more buttons and played it again. It sounded no different.
"What about the other one?" she asked.
"Year nine hundred ninety nine thousand nine hundred and ninety six: Watchman entry number two."
There were two or three female voices this time, but the message was equally short and meaningless:
"'Hey, what's this thing?'
"'How should I know? Looks like a metal person or something.'
"'I bet Herbie is going to love this. Come on, help me lift it.'
"'Not that way! You're going to drop it or someth-'"
A short burst of static followed, and then nothing.
"Is that all?" she asked.
"That's all."
"How strange. It sounds like someone found one of the Watchmen just lying around. Come on. We're going to get down there and see what's going on."
Freem slumped into a chair. "Why are you doing this?" he asked. "Why can't you just leave it up to a research team like I said?"
"Because I care, okay? Look. I've spent ten years in a little cubicle, and I can look forward to quite a few more, just like everyone else. Don't you ever wonder if there's more to life than paperwork and inter-office memos?"
"No."
"Well, I do. Every time we stumble upon something new, we push it out of our way in the name of progress. Manifest Destiny! Don't you wonder what it will be like when human beings take over every earthlike planet in the galaxy? We've already discovered six three unique intelligences, and what did we do with them? Forced them to adapt to our ways."
"So what? Our ways are better."
"Our ways are stupid! All we do is work, work, work. We expand to the far reaches of the galaxy, and why? So we can have people there, working! Well here we've got something that isn't working. I don't know what it's doing, but maybe it's better! Don't we at least owe it to ourselves to find out before we start trying to make it the same as everything else?"
Freem was smiling at her, his eyes wide. "That's beautiful," he said. "Do you realize what this means?"
It could mean anything with Freem. Could it be that he actually agreed with her?
"It means that when I sue you, I am going to have more money than I ever dreamed possible. I can sue Cannon and the whole Manifest Foundation just for putting me in the same room with you!"
She drew her gun. "Get back to the other ship. Now."
They left, allowing the Genesis a return to its slumber. They stepped through the tunnel and the Papierkrieg's airlock slid closed behind them.
"Put in the circuits."
Freem swiftly and silently replaced the equipment she'd blasted.
"Computer," she said. "Scan again for Watchmen."
"SCANNING... TWO POSSIBLE CANDIDATES FOUND. ONE DEFINITELY
WATCHMAN, THE OTHER VERY SIMILAR."
"Where are they?"
"ANALYZING DATA... SOMEWHERE ON THE LARGER OF THE TWO CONTINENTS..."
"Can you be more specific?" Freem asked. Jubie could tell he had a few nerd strain genes in him. The instant a problem arose, he forgot his peril and would immediately begin trying to solve it.
"SCANNING... ERROR: UNIDENTIFIED ENERGY PATTERNS IN THE PLANET'S LOWER ATMOSPHERE
ARE DISRUPTING TELEMETRY SYSTEMS. RECOMMENDATION: DESCEND TO TERRAIN AND RETRY."
"You heard it," Freem said. "There's nothing more we can do without landing."
"So we'll land," she said. "Take us down near one of the larger cities."
"I don't think that's really a good idea," Freem said.
She was in no mood to argue further.
"Do it."
"Alright, but only because you have that gun."
"That's fine with me."
"How about this one on the western coast? We can go to the beach while we wait for the computer to get its readings straightened out. Did you pack a swimsuit? I'm sure you'd look beautiful in a bikini."
"Flattery won't get you anywhere, Freem. Take us down. The west coast will be fine..."
Next: Zenheads and the Art of Airship Maintenance
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