🚀 go-pugleaf

[[Continued from Part Three]]



     Kid Solipsism stared at the monitor for a long while after it had
gone black.
     "You have the look of a man disturbed," Trashman said, stepping
back into the control room.
     "I'm aware of that," the Kid replied.  "Of course, I'd have to be
aware of it in order for me to decide that you'd noticed it, otherwise--
"
     "Let's not discuss it, shall we?" Trashman said mildly.  "I take it
something about your conversation with Mandy disturbed you?"
     "Not that, per se," the Kid replied.  "It was a standard enough
conversation.  We abused each other verbally, argued metaphysics, and
exchanged uncomfortable glances.  I am instead disturbed over what Mandy
has come to represent to me."
     "And that is?"
     The Kid looked distant for a moment, then shook his head.  "Never
mind," he said.  "I can't help but notice I didn't decide you'd join the
others for their little victory love-fest.  Dare I ask why?"
     "No mystery," Trashman said, settling into a chair in front of the
command console and bringing up a subsystems menu.  "I'm not much for
that sort of thing to begin with.  Besides, I thought I'd have dinner
with Dianna -- keep her company.  Talk things over with her.  She did
extraordinarily well in the fight.  She deserves recognition of that."
     "Dianna?"
     "Yes."
     "Dianna Potentiate?"
     Trashman sighed.  "*Yes,* Kid Solipsism.  Dianna Potentiate.  I
take it you don't approve?"
     "Approve?  Approval or disdain would imply my taking stock in this
delusion -- you should know better.  I was just curious how you planned
on having dinner with Dianna when she went with the rest of the group to
shake her `booty.'"
     Trashman's hand paused on the console.  He slowly turned to face
the Kid.  "Dianna went with them?" he asked quietly.
     "Mm-hm.  Mike brought her.  I assumed he'd spoken with you."
     "No," Trashman said.  "He did not.  That she went with them at all
should indicate he did not speak to me."
     "Oh.  Hm.  Well, I'm sure I decided he had reason."
     "Oh, I haven't any doubt he had reason," Trashman said coolly,
turning back to the panel.  "And I truly cannot wait to hear it."

                           * * * * * *

     The music was alien but awfully easy to dance to, and the native
population was revelling in the joys of freedom.  Freedom from the
threat of M'Yet, freedom from the threat of Muhuhahaharan invasion,
freedom from the threat of Empire.
     And the Adjusted League Unimpeachable were the heroes of the hour,
of course.  Exotic and alien, powerful and self-assured... this is how
the aliens would be described by certain Slackeryans (inevitably male
ones) to their life-mates the next morning, in justification of their
conduct and in elaboration of their appeal (and said male Slackeryan's
response to it).
     The truth, of course, is that of the five aliens who showed up, two
(who looked like sisters) were astoundingly beautiful, one (the red
haired one who wore the headphones all night) was quite cute and
extremely... vivacious, and the last was not *un*attractive and
*was*....
     How shall we say this?
     `Outgoing' leaps to mind.
     It probably *wasn't* what leapt to Dianna Potentiate's mind as she
sipped her local import microbrew (bought for her as all the beer she
drank that night was, and tasting suspiciously like Redhook beer from
Seattle).  Watching Trudy dance with five local Slackeryans at once,
with the intent, apparently, of putting Madonna to shame, didn't bring
anything as sedate as `outgoing' to Dianna's mind.  What was the girl
thinking?
     Watching Trudy share one of her admirer's beers without the
niceties of a glass, Dianna looked away, vaguely nauseous, and realized
she had a pretty good idea, all told, of what the girl was thinking.
     Well, at least Dani was *just* having fun, dancing with a
Slackeryan who was leading her off the floor to a booth.  Of course, she
could imagine her response to any serious pickup lines....
     "Whoo," Ander said to Dani as they stepped off the floor.  "Man,
you have, like, energy on, like, the dance floor, huh?"
     "Yeah," Dani half-giggled breathless.
     "Whoooooa... and, like, you're all sweaty, like, you know?"
     "Yeah.  I could use something to drink, really."
     "No, like, problem -- hey!  'Coupla beers here!"
     "Ander -- just out of curiosity... you really like Emperor Rad,
don't you?"
     "Like, he's, like, my hero."
     "I had a feeling."
     Ander got a crafty look on his face.  "Like, y'know, Daneeee--"
     "Dani.  Just Dani."  Dani grinned.
     "Right.  Like, yeah.  Like, Dani, you like, you'd probably not be
so hot if, like, you weren't wearing that, like, full, like, bodysuit.
If, like, you changed into, like, a bikini or sumthin..."
     "Yeah, you're right -- that'd be great," Dani said, grinning.
     "Yeah," Ander said, the slow smile of a brain-fried Romeo who
thinks he might be making forward progress slowly crossing his face.
     "Which makes it a real pity that my bodysuit's the only thing
containing the lethal radiation I constantly emit, huh?  I mean, I'd
hate to kill you accidentally during a waltz."
     Ander stared.  "Like... yeah," he said.
     "Mm, could we get some fries?"
     "Like, sure...."  Ander ordered the fries.  He knew he should have
asked the red-haired pale-skinned alien to dance.
     Still, she seemed to have a boyfriend.  Ah well.
     Said red-head held said boyfriend close, enjoying the luxury of
touch, of dance.  Enjoying the faith she put into him to lead, since she
couldn't hear the music at *all.*  The stereo headphones that played the
Knopler Effect into Jane's ears directly had been greatly improved,
letting her hear normal conversations and interact more like a normal
person when she was in her civilian identity.  Heck -- it enabled her to
have a civilian identity.  But the technology wasn't perfect.  No sound
system -- mounted on the walls or worn on her ears -- let her swim, for
example.  The aquatic acoustics just didn't propagate the Knopler
Effect.
     And the superaccelerated Dire Straits she listened to in infinite
loop (which concentrated a mellowness in her which let her
hyperacceleration relax somewhat) also effectively masked out all other
music - it just sounded like noise to Jane.  The only time she could
listen to music was when she played it in her acceleration CD player,
and listened to it at her full rate of speed.
     But that was all right, tonight.  She didn't need the music.  She
had Mike, leading and holding her, and that was enough.
     And he was so happy....
     "Penny for your thoughts," he murmured.
     "Sorry," she said back.  "Inflation, don't you know.  Penny's not
nearly enough."
     "What will it take, then?"
     "How much you got?"
     "The bounty of the Earth, the riches of the stars, and truffles in
my room."
     "You brought truffles to another planet?"
     "Hey -- how likely would it be I could find them here?"
     "You have a point there."  Jane danced for a while.  "Mike?"
     "Yeah?"
     "You're whispering."
     "Mm-hm."
     Jane pulled slightly back to look at Mike's face, her arms entwined
around them.  "The Miracle Ear on these headphones isn't good enough for
me to hear whispers," she said.
     Mike blushed.  "Well... it's important to me that you hear what I
say."
     "The Bracers--"
     "Oanthat.  Hey, they're not just epochally destructive, you know."
     Jane smiled.  "I guess not."
     Mike smiled too.  His amusement faded somewhat, looking over Jane's
shoulder.
     "What?"
     "Dianna.  She's been miserable all night, and now she's on the
warpath for Trudy."
     "Well, Trudy's been acting like the Bride of the Regiment all
night.   She's worried.  *I'm* worried."
     "We're all worried but I'm not much worried.  She's an adult--"
     "She's twenty.  Does that count?"
     "Counted for me.  Anyway, she's an adult, she's bright enough to be
safe, and she's having a good time.  Besides, how deep an emotional
attachment will she make?  First off, we're shipping out tomorrow, and
second off we're talking about *Trudy* here."
     "You have a point," Jane said.  "It'd just be nice if she weren't
hurt, is all."
     Mike held Jane close, and watched as Dianna separated Trudy from
her entourage to speak to her.  "Yeah," he said.  "It'd be very nice if
she weren't hurt."
     Trudy, laughing and more than a hair drunk, leaned on Dianna as
they walked off the balcony and near the stream that circled the outdoor
dance club.  "Whoo-hoo!" she shouted to the trees and buildings.  "Eat,
drink and be merry, for tomorrow we get audited!"
     "Calm down, Trudy," Dianna half-hissed.  "Jeez -- you're going to
give those jerks in tight pants the wrong idea--"
     Trudy assumed a noble air.  "The very concept of the `wrong' idea
is at heart an assault against our sacred liberty," she intoned in a
fake British dialect.
     "Trudy -- you know what I--"
     "Hey, lighten up, Diorama!  It's a party, y'know.  Y'party at
parties.  It's traditional!"
     "Yeah, well, those guys want to party all right."
     "So let 'em."
     "Trud--"
     "Hey, Deester -- this is my night and I'm gonna revel in it!  I
mean, Jeez -- you don't *know* what this is like for me."
     "I'm getting an idea," Dianna said snidly.
     "No, you're not.  Dianna, you've got the perfect body and face.
You have to beat men off with a stick.  I, in case you didn't get the
memo, don't.  I have to club them to get them to notice me.  The one
possible way I could attract the brainless male is to trade on my
notoriety -- and my civilian identity doesn't have any.  This is one
damn planet I can *be* Unorthodox Lass and Trudy Galloway at the same
time.  God damn it -- I'm gonna use it!"  She grinned wildly.
     "Trudy -- you're half-way to drunk and all-way to upset.  Let's go
walk this off and talk this over, all right?"
     Trudy's smile froze.  "Yeah," she said.  "Sure.  I'll be right
along -- oh, wait.  I just remembered something.  My Mom."
     "Your... mother?" Dianna asked, eyebrows raised.
     "Yeah.  I just remembered she had her head caved in with a lamp
when I was ten.  So there's no possible way you're her.  So maybe you
should stop acting like it, huh?"  Trudy grinned, her eyes angry.
"Catch you on the other side, kiddo."  She walked back up the stairs and
into the club.  "Guys!" she shouted, and Dianna heard their response.
     Dianna stood there for a long time, before she started back for the
Landing Field.

                           * * * * * *

     Most of Planet Seattle was in celebration.  Disaster had been
averted.  The Confederation was safe from all threats.  It was a time of
joy and relief.
     For all but two.
     "Should she be in there," the Ottsamattawidu guard asked the man
she was relieving.  "I mean, the kind of threat he was--"
     "The Admiral saw no harm in it," the other guard replied quietly.
"He's harmless now, and she's something of a victim herself.  Why not
give them some time together before they get dragged off and tried,
huh?"
     "Yeah.  Poor kids.  Poor stupid kids."
     Inside the cell, R'lla Dukat of Planet South Dakota cradled her
husband's head and rocked back and forth slowly.  She had cried, off and
on, stroking his hair and massaging his temples right where the small
antennae rose.  "We're all right," she whispered.  "It's all right,
love..."
     "Gone... all gone...." M'Yet moaned.
     "We're all right," she said again.  "I'm here."
     "I was so wrong... how could I have been so wrong... all gone..."
     "It's all right," R'lla said again, feeling the tears come again.
"It's all right, M'Yet.  It's all right..."



WILL IT BE ALL RIGHT?
WILL MIKE BE ALL RIGHT?
WILL HE GO NUTS?
WILL TRASHMAN KILL HIM?
DOES DIANNA WISH SHE'D JUST STAYED HOME?
WILL TRUDY GET ALIEN COOTIES?
WHAT DOES THE MAGESTRIX REALLY WANT?
AND WHAT DOES ALEC GUINNESS (COINCIDENCE) HAVE TO DO WITH ALL THIS?


The answers, given the nature of the question, *should* be found on the
very next episode of Adjusted League Unimpeachable, here on Superguy.


--
Eric Alfred Burns             | The happiest moment in anyone's life
sabre@superfluous.wa.com      | is that moment of glorious, madcap fraud
http://www.halcyon.com/sabre  | when you send personal e-mail out
Poet, Writer, Gadfly-for-Hire | on company time, like this piece here.