Art Pact 52
Notwithstanding the presumptuous youth of the day, E____ took it upon himself to awaken me from my pleasant sojourn into the sandman's realm by calling upon my stateroom in some state of agitation. My mechanical man-servant attempted of course to dissuade the unwelcome visitor, but sadly crippled by the unnecessary morality programmed into it by its over-cautious creator it was unable to fully execute my thunderous command to "dispatch" the intruder, instead choosing to allow him egress to the outer chamber of my suite, all the while protesting in its grating electronical voice that this early hour was no time to be calling on a gentleman of my stature. While I appreciated the sentiment entirely, the d___d machine's voice box, lacking any overall control of volume, could not provide its suggestions in low enough a tone to avoid dragging me entirely into wakefulness, a state which I am normally scrupulous in avoiding until at least ten of the ship's bells have rung.
"I really must insist!" E____ argued, unwary of the fact that the robot well understood that there was no binding compulsion upon its fleshy counterparts to do anything. I emerged from the inner chamber to find it standing across the door: unable to lay its hands on E____ it had resorted to disabling its joints in such a fashion as to make of itself a wall which it rightly judged the smaller man of being unable to breach. Indeed, I myself was unable to exit my boudoir without first commanding the machine to stand down, upon which order it move aside gracefully although I saw its several optical sensors swivel in E____'s direction in a very creditable impersonation of distrust and irritation.
"Mister E____" I said. "What in the universe can have possessed you to burst in here at this hour? I warn you, I am not a man who takes sleep lightly. To be well-rested is necessary, if not perhaps sufficient, to the vigilance the job of ship's captain requires. Should we, later in the day, travel at relativistic velocities into the heart of some foreign sun simply because of an ill-timed yawn on my part, I shall view the matter as entirely your fault, proceeding directly from this early-morning alarum. Speak your piece - and make it compelling, or I shall be forced to delay my swift return to the arms of Madam Sleep just long enough to convey you to the brig."
E____, naturally flustered by my commanding presence, quivered along the length of his body, and the stress-meter in his uniform bleeped once as a warning that he was dangerously overawed. To his credit he rallied quickly, drawing himself up to his full (if unimpressive) height and perpetrating a salute so crisp that it might have stood in easily for an autumn morning.
"Sir," he reported, "you must come to the bridge immediately. We are being hailed from the planet."
"From the planet?" I queried, astounded.
"Yes, sir. From the planet. A distress call, we believe, although the translators are still working on the full extent of the message."
While the Indefatigable, as a battlecruiser, was not equipped fully for any use other than the efficient and large-scale manufacture of woe, it did (I regret to confess) contain within its hold some supplies that might admit to one or more humanitarian uses, thus rendering me powerless to maintain with a clear conscience that we were unable to do anything to aid the landlubbers below us. I frowned mightily at E____, causing him to withdraw a number of paces.
"I will be there directly," I said. "Inform the translators that if they do not have a full transcript of reasonable accuracy by the time I arrive I will recycle them into chaff drones at the very earliest convenience of the enemy's torpedoes."
"I... yes sir," he said snappily, although he immediately diminished this gratifying appearance of competence by remaining in place, staring at me blankly as if hit by a stun-ray.
"Well get on with it man!" I roared. He turned on the spot and ran, so fast that the automatic door was scarcely able to avoid him as he left, his tail-flaps whisking after him.
"Carson." I called.
"Yes, captain," the machine said calmly, clanking up behind me.
"Lay out my dress uniform. I shall be needing it directly, I imagine."
"Of course, captain."
While the machine went to work I submitted to the indignity of dressing myself in my ship suit and warbands for the second time in a week. For a routine patrol of an uninhabited sector, this mission was beginning to become unpleasantly exciting.
"I really must insist!" E____ argued, unwary of the fact that the robot well understood that there was no binding compulsion upon its fleshy counterparts to do anything. I emerged from the inner chamber to find it standing across the door: unable to lay its hands on E____ it had resorted to disabling its joints in such a fashion as to make of itself a wall which it rightly judged the smaller man of being unable to breach. Indeed, I myself was unable to exit my boudoir without first commanding the machine to stand down, upon which order it move aside gracefully although I saw its several optical sensors swivel in E____'s direction in a very creditable impersonation of distrust and irritation.
"Mister E____" I said. "What in the universe can have possessed you to burst in here at this hour? I warn you, I am not a man who takes sleep lightly. To be well-rested is necessary, if not perhaps sufficient, to the vigilance the job of ship's captain requires. Should we, later in the day, travel at relativistic velocities into the heart of some foreign sun simply because of an ill-timed yawn on my part, I shall view the matter as entirely your fault, proceeding directly from this early-morning alarum. Speak your piece - and make it compelling, or I shall be forced to delay my swift return to the arms of Madam Sleep just long enough to convey you to the brig."
E____, naturally flustered by my commanding presence, quivered along the length of his body, and the stress-meter in his uniform bleeped once as a warning that he was dangerously overawed. To his credit he rallied quickly, drawing himself up to his full (if unimpressive) height and perpetrating a salute so crisp that it might have stood in easily for an autumn morning.
"Sir," he reported, "you must come to the bridge immediately. We are being hailed from the planet."
"From the planet?" I queried, astounded.
"Yes, sir. From the planet. A distress call, we believe, although the translators are still working on the full extent of the message."
While the Indefatigable, as a battlecruiser, was not equipped fully for any use other than the efficient and large-scale manufacture of woe, it did (I regret to confess) contain within its hold some supplies that might admit to one or more humanitarian uses, thus rendering me powerless to maintain with a clear conscience that we were unable to do anything to aid the landlubbers below us. I frowned mightily at E____, causing him to withdraw a number of paces.
"I will be there directly," I said. "Inform the translators that if they do not have a full transcript of reasonable accuracy by the time I arrive I will recycle them into chaff drones at the very earliest convenience of the enemy's torpedoes."
"I... yes sir," he said snappily, although he immediately diminished this gratifying appearance of competence by remaining in place, staring at me blankly as if hit by a stun-ray.
"Well get on with it man!" I roared. He turned on the spot and ran, so fast that the automatic door was scarcely able to avoid him as he left, his tail-flaps whisking after him.
"Carson." I called.
"Yes, captain," the machine said calmly, clanking up behind me.
"Lay out my dress uniform. I shall be needing it directly, I imagine."
"Of course, captain."
While the machine went to work I submitted to the indignity of dressing myself in my ship suit and warbands for the second time in a week. For a routine patrol of an uninhabited sector, this mission was beginning to become unpleasantly exciting.
Comments