ALTERNATE TALES OF THE STAR FORCE
STAR BLAZERS
FIXING A HOLE
Being the second part of
THE RIKASHA INCIDENT
By: Frederick P. Kopetz
ACT FOUR-HAPPINESS IS A
WARM GUN
" Bang Bang! Shoot Shoot!..." -1968--John
Lennon & Paul McCartney
I.KICK OUT THE JAMS…LET'S GO…
Butala's
Kennedy Drive
Friday, June 23, 1967
12:13 AM, Local Time
Derek Wildstar had just ordered a beer in Butala's Bar in McAdoo.
What a dump, he thought as he looked around the establishment. There was a long, Formica-topped bar, many stools, a group of nasty-looking characters, several neon signs, several tables, a jukebox playing "Please Release Me" by Englebert Humperdinck and other such songs by the likes of Perry Como and Frank Sinatra, a twi-night doubleheader away stand with the Phillies playing San Francisco out on the Coast flickering on the TV above the bar, lots of cigarette smoke, a weird-looking person sitting by himself at a table, and, to Nova's chagrin (as she concentrated on her Grasshopper), the girl from the car, or someone who looked just like her, was leaning against a wall near a pay phone.
Nova had some ideas as to her profession…none of them savory. She noticed that the Girl did have a Russian accent, and seemed to be dressed in a black leather catsuit and boots that were so tight that they made her own Star Force uniform seem like a bag by comparison…and Nova thought that this was quite an idea. Somehow, the idea of finding the whereabouts of an alien trooper in this place seemed almost laughable.
What in God's name are we doing here? thought Nova, who was almost, almost but not quite, tempted to bum a cigarette from someone so she could light up…in self-defense only, of course. It was hard to breathe in the bar, since the smoke was quite overpowering.
Nova turned her head in the other direction. A chill went up her back as she spotted an individual sitting all alone at a side table. Nova got a look at him and forgot all about bumming a ciggie. He was bald, had what seemed to be a very pallid, almost greenish complexion, and was wearing very faded denims. The chill turned into a shiver as she noticed the stranger beckoning to her with one finger.
Nova got up. "Derek, that stranger's calling me. He might be our enemy…I'd better check this out." At that news, Derek looked a little alarmed.
"You're not going over there alone, Nova," replied Derek.
"Why not? I'd like to see what he wants."
"I've got a bad feeling about him…I'm coming with you."
"Derek, I…"
The stranger got up and began walking towards them. "Good evening, my friends," he whispered in sepulchral tones. "Did you know I've been expecting you?"
"No, I didn't," said Wildstar.
"You might be pleased to know that I have a most pleasant surprise awaiting you; namely your own set of accommodations. A honeymoon suite, as it were."
"What do you mean by that?" asked Nova, who didn't notice the woman in black putting her hands up, as if to say "stop that!"
"It's most simple," whispered the stranger. "You shall have your own quarters, aboard my flagship. There, in a few short hours, you shall witness the suitable end I have prepared for your comrades, as well as a television feed to the death of one Mr. Lennon and his comrades on live TV. Then, you shall have plenty of time to witness riots, devastation, and perhaps the Third World War in due time? Or should I simply have my comrades open fire on this defenseless ball of mud, hmm? Or would you care to see what I can do to you, first?" asked the stranger as he began to reach under the table for something. "Maybe I'll disintegrate you; or maybe you'll just be stunned…"stoned," as it were?"
"Listen," snapped Derek. "If you think you're going to get away with that…" he said as he reached for his camera bag.
Before he could open it, though, he felt a hand grabbing his arm from behind.
"Hey!" he protested. "What the…?"
"Hey, buddy," snapped a rough male voice behind him. "We're here to watch a ball game, not hear some Goddamn hippie argument about drugs or Star Trek or Buck Rogers."
"Get your hands off me!" snapped Wildstar in his most imperious command voice. However, the short-haired local in a green t-shirt only laughed, followed by a sarcastic chuckle from a friend of his in a dark red work shirt.
"Listen, Mike and I both think you stinkin' hippies, all three a' ya, have had your way up here long enough Want me to break your limp little wrist, sissy boy with the long hair?"
"Righto! Ya'd better
friggin' listen to Bernie, ya damn weirdo," said Bernie's friend in the
red shirt.
Bernie added, "Scram,
and go back to
Captain Wildstar had had enough. He shook his head and grabbed Bernie by the wrist. "Listen, you…my…beloved…is not a lady of the night!"
"Aaaa, shaddap, ya
college boy freak! Get outta here and help your beloved walk the street
up in Hazleton." snapped Bernie. A millisecond later, Derek had Bernie's
glass of beer thrown in his face.
Derek bared his teeth in a
snarl and slugged Bernie with a hard right directly in his mouth. "That
should teach you to speak to a lady properly. Now, you apologize to Nova right
now or else you'll regret it!"
"Derek…" said
Nova with bated breath. "Be careful…we don't need a fistfight over this;
not here…let's go…"
"SHADDAP, ya stupid
dame! As for you, you longhaired girl-man, I'll give you a friggin' apology, ya
foreigner!" roared Bernie. Then, the workingman shot a rabbit punch at the
back of Derek's neck and then grabbed the Captain from behind.
"STOP it, you drunk!" cried Nova. She swung around to throw off Bernie, but the stranger in blue denim with long hair viciously knocked aside the table and his drink, shoved aside Nova, and got to the man first after kicking aside Mike. The stranger grabbed Bernie's shoulders and viciously threw him right through the bar's front plate-glass window!
Bernie hit the pavement head-first, with a loud snap coming from his broken neck. He was dead about ten seconds later.
"Holy…?" yelled a third man who looked a lot like the man who had gone through the window. "Hey, Mike! Ya see what the hell that bald freak did to Bernie?"
Mike struggled off the floor. "Yeah, I did, Frank. And that damn blond hippie broad in the pedal-pushers there knocked me on the floor! She wants to fight like a man, we'll kick her ass like a man, right?"
"Yeah!" said Frank. "Stand aside, ya bald freak! The hippie broad is MINE!"
"I'm sorry…Bernie's dead now," said the stranger in a mellow voice. "Oh, Derek," he said to Wildstar. "As we shall be allies for the next two minutes, permit me to introduce myself. Shardovan Gralnacz is my name, and, as you suspected, I am your enemy, but we are allies for the nonce. If you wonder why I said we are allies, notice the ring of men gathering around you and Nova. If you wish for our…personal dispute… to continue, we had best cooperate for the moment."
Before Derek or Nova could respond to their enemy, Mike tried to knock Nova down with a bar stool. She caught the stool with her foot and kicked back, knocking both stool and Mike on the floor.
Frank then caught Derek Wildstar in a headlock. Captain Wildstar responded by grabbing his arm and flipping him onto the bar on top of several glasses. Before Derek could protest, Gralnacz put a hand on Frank's balding head. He screamed and fell limp with blood running from his nose and mouth; the stream of blood ran all the way down to his flannel work-shirt clad beer belly. Mercifully, he was dead about two seconds later with smoke trailing up from one ear.
Gralnacz was then rushed by two more men, presumably friends of Frank, Mike, and Bernie. He bashed both of them into each other, but Derek grabbed one and punched him and Nova grabbed the other and threw him against the wall in order to keep their alien "ally" from killing them, too.
Gralnacz did not like that. He grabbed at Nova in the melee while pulling out his weapon, hoping in a rage to send her to the same sort of nasty, quick death to which he had sent Bernie and Frank, but before he could get a hand on her, Nova tripped him up. He fired, his beam going wide into the mirror behind the bar. Several people screamed.
Derek responded by getting his alien weapon out. Snapping it open as someone screamed, "NO! Cut the ray-gun shit!" he fired at Gralnacz. The yellowish-green beam hit the Technomugar commander, leaving him somewhat stunned, but not stunned enough to keep him from bringing his own weapon back up and firing at Derek.
"DEREK!" screamed Nova as her husband ducked under a bar stool for cover. Snarling, she opened her purse and drew her own astro-automatic. She fired at Gralnacz, hitting him in the hand.
The alien roared with rage, but before he could react, the woman in the black catsuit grabbed Nova away by the hand and also pulled Derek away by the bottom of his t-shirt.
"What are you doing?" demanded Nova. "We've almost GOT him!"
"Your course of action is most unwise," snapped the woman in a Russian accent. "You should NOT finish this here with those sort of weapons! Follow me!"
"Why? He started firing at US!! He's the maniac we've got to stop!" demanded Derek as, a moment later, he noticed a flashing red light in the distance through the broken window.
"This would be most difficult to explain to the authorities…trust me!" snapped the woman. "I am truly on your side. Get into your car and follow me!"
She half dragged them out the side door just as Derek heard a siren. Getting the idea, he and Nova ran for their car and got it started quite quickly. The woman got into her Jaguar and took off west down the side street a second later.
Taking the lead, Derek followed her. They went down the street about two blocks, followed her as she took a right with tires screeching, and roared down another side street. They took another right, noticing vaguely that the steeples of a Russian-domed church were off in the distance. At the first light they took a hard left, and, back on PA 309, they roared north, with Derek noticing that the police lights in his rear view mirror were still…and not coming after them as he would have expected.
I guess the police are investigating the incident in the bar, he thought. If we're careful, we just might get out of this little town. But where would we go? Thanks to Gralnacz and his trigger-happy behavior, we're surely wanted all over the State now…or soon will be. What lousy damn luck! And who is the Russian girl, and what does she want with us? What the hell have Nova and I gotten ourselves into?
II.VENTURE LANDS IN A
STEW
Space: Between the Earth
and the
Friday, June 23, 1967
1:02 AM, Local Shipboard
Time
"Okay?" demanded Sandor. "You saw what, Hardy?"
"I saw Nova and the Captain, just a few minutes ago…in civilian clothes, in the lower fighter bay. They just…appeared out of nowhere, sitting in an old blue car from the 20th Century, and before we could talk, they disappeared again."
"Dr. Sane, are you sure that you didn't give Hardy any of your concoctions?" asked Venture.
"No…he was on watch. I was asleep with Mimi."
"He's right," chirped IQ-9.
"How do you know that?" countered Homer.
"What do you think Doctor Sane is doing in a kimono and geta sandals?" countered IQ-9, pointing out Sane's sleepwear and wooden shoes. "Most crew members do not dress like that on duty aboard this ship…especially not Doctor Sane. If I may make an observation, though, Nova would look better dressed that way than you do, Doctor."
"I don't appreciate
that," huffed Doctor Sane.
"So?" said Homer.
"Listen," said Venture. "We've got to pull together on this. What proof do we have that Derek and Nova were seen in the fighter bay?"
"Sir, I'm not lying," countered Hardy.
"No one is saying you are, Hardy. We just need hard evidence."
"And I've got it," said Sandor as he sat bolt upright and slapped his console. "It's right here! Plus, I know how we can trace them on Earth, now…using our current equipment."
"How?" asked Venture.
"Beta-Neutrino traces," said Sandor with an air of authority.
"Beta-Neutrino traces?" said Homer. "That's just comm static…and…"
"Not at this particular wavelength," countered Sandor. "By way of explanation, any human body, when it passes through a space warp, leaves a trail of Beta-Neutrinos that can be traced for about forty-eight hours as the charge about the body slowly decays, somewhat like Carbon-14, but with a much shorter half-life. Such a trail can only be picked up in the fourth dimension. Using one of my sensor arrays, I just detected fresh Beta-Neutrino traces in the lower fighter bay. All of us have been giving them off since the Argo warped back through time to this point, but I thought they were just an interesting side effect of space travel. I could never use them to trace enemy vessels since the Gamilons' and Cometines' ships all warp at a different sort of subspace amplitude as compared with the Argo. Their traces were always undetectable. But I can trace ours, and by turning our sensors toward Earth, even though we're behind the Moon, I can trace where on Earth the only two persons I know of on 20th Century Earth that warped recently on this ship would be…for about 36 hours, that is. And the only two people on Earth that could have warped aboard this particular ship recently are Nova and the Captain. With a sensor scan, I can more or less detect where they are."
"What do we do when we find out where they are?" asked Venture.
"Send Hemsford or
Rosstowski down to Earth's surface in a jet recon boat with a portable sensor,
somewhat like the energy indicator I made to trace the location of the main
reactor on the
Suddenly, the main radar began to go off. Lieutenant Todd Voorhees, who was manning the cosmo-radar in Nova's place, said, "Two objects approaching fast at twenty-two relative space knots. Distance, 200 megameters. Switching to video panel now."
Venture's heart sank as soon as he recognized what was approaching. "DAMN! It's the enemy space fortresses we were fighting when we went through that disturbance and came here! Dash! Since our main guns can't hit them, maybe missiles will hurt them! Fire a spread of bow missiles at the upper towers on the first ship…now."
"But should we be firing first?" asked Sandor.
A second later, one of the fortresses fired at the Argo, which was left smoking from a hit on the starboard side.
"Moot point, Sandor." said Venture. "Dash, prepare to fire."
"Bow torpedoes, FIRE!" he snapped.
The Argo fired. They were pleased when the missiles struck home and left a few towers smoking on one of the space fortresses. However, the other one responded with a second plasma-energy barrage that blew several holes in the Argo's main deck as it roared in and caused a fair amount of damage to the #1 forward main gun turret.
"We can't take this sort of damage!" said Sandor. "We're still trying to repair damage from the last battle!"
Venture closed his eyes and fiercely punched his own thighs. Derek, now I know how you always felt in this kind of a spot, he thought. There's just one thing to do. They might detect this down there on Earth, but we have no choice. We have to survive…for our Earth.
"Turning ship, fifty degrees starboard!" he said as he worked the helm and turned towards the enemy. Facing them, he said, "Orion, stop all engines."
"Aye," he said. "Stop all engines."
"Dr. Sane, sit down there at the Analysis post," said Venture. "Dash, begin making preparations to fire the wave motion gun! We've got just one chance to stop them, and with that dense armor, our main guns just can't do it."
"You got that right," nodded Dash.
In the meantime, on the enemy fortresses, the destruction of the Star Force was being plotted with cold, calm calculation.
"So what do you say you're doing, Lord Protector?" asked Technomugar Captain Varenz, the commander of the space fortress Saruger, the sister ship of the Sukalnach, the command Goraizu Fortress of Gralnacz. At the moment, Varenz was looking at Gralnacz as a small holographic image on a table near his command seat on the Saruger's vast round bridge. His superior, thanks to enhancement in his cyborg body courtesy of Ekogaru, sent his thoughts and image to the machine by psionic thought waves. "You're out of uniform, you look rather unhappy..."
"I am unhappy. I have the local police after me. What fools."
"Where are you, my Lord?" whispered Varenz's voice in Gralnacz's mind.
"Hiding in an alley in
"Could you not overpower the police, Lord?"
"I could, but it would put my access to those Beatles in jeopardy. I must make myself scarce for a time."
"Why not return to Sukalnach? Surely they will allow you to rest there, Lordship. Also, be fortunate that Lord Ekogaru currently has no knowledge of this operation."
"Yes, we are fortunate. If Ekogaru found out…have you ever been lashed by the Dark Lord, Varenz?"
"No, Lord Protector. I have not. Do they not say the Dark Lord can strike one dead with a glance?"
"He can. And he has given me this power, but I am at bay. As for you?"
"We have the Argo at heel right now. I could destroy her if you like, but shall we toy with her for a time, to give you the victory?"
"Yes, toy with her. Let me gather my wits about me before I teleport back to the Sukalnach. Oh, what are you doing?"
"Toying with the Argo. She's stopped for some reason, and…"
"She's stopped? Is she facing you?"
"Yes…but…"
"Well, then, listen to
me carefully. You had best…"
"Ten seconds to firing," said Dash through his firing goggles aboard the Argo over the maddening whine of the wave motion gun. "Ten, nine…eight…seven, six…five…"
Here we go…this is it, thought Venture…
"You want the Sukalnach and myself to flee? Emergency warp?" said Varenz.
"Yes…now," hissed Gralnacz. "I'll teleport back in a moment," he huffed as he hid behind a garbage can in his alley. "At least make sure Sukalnach gets out of there!"
"Sukalnach, leave," said Varenz. "But why?" he asked as the other fortress pulled away. "All they're doing is shining a bright spotlight at us; our bridge windows can accommodate it. Why the panic?"
"Have you ever heard of a wave motion gun before?" said Gralnacz as he sank into a fetal position behind the garbage can.
"No, I can't say I have…"
Inside the Argo’s Wave Motion Gun
Firing gate, the magnetic field was now building up to maximum output, and the
deadly Gun was now just about ready for firing.
Dash finished the countown by saying, "Two…one…zero!"
Venture looked at Dash through his goggles and snapped, "FIRE!"
"FIRE!" said Dash as his finger came down on the trigger.
A second later, a beam of actinic blue light roared out towards the Saruger a mere moment later even as the red plasma residue from the fortress' last barrage still skipped around the Argo.
Varenz and his 2,000 officers and men perished in a ball of flame that blinked near the edge of the Moon like a nova for a moment and then faded.
The Sukalnach just barely escaped the holocaust, warping out to the vicinity of Mars a moment after an exhausted Gralnacz appeared on the vessel's bridge. His executive officer noticed that even he was puffing with exertion as he leaned against one of the decorative marble-clad pillars on the ornate yet ominous-looking bridge of the enemy dreadnought.
"High Protector Gralnacz, are you…?"
"I'm fine, you idiot!" he hissed as the fading hum of the warp still resounded across the Sukalnach's bridge. Looking very un-regal and unimposing as he slid down onto the carpeted deck, he said, "My friend, is Varenz…?"
"He is, sir. Dead. I'm sure he passed straight to Lord Ekogaru's bosom as a warrior. Should we not end this? Take care of the Argo in their own time, after returning to it? Surely Ekogaru is awaiting us."
"Half my forces are lost…but I shall NOT give this up!" screamed Gralnacz, filled with a bit of his Master's insane fury. My plan shall work! I will erase Earth's history! We ARE the Gods of the New Order! And no mere Earth space battleship shall stop us. We shall go in, attack…"
"We shall not, sir. We suffered…electrical damage. All that wild tachyon energy, I guess. Electrical burnouts all over the place…without a shield like that on Lord Ekogaru's Grand Technomugar Fortress, we are vulnerable even to a near-miss from that accursed weapon. Who gave the Terrans such a weapon?"
"The legendary planet Iscandar, you fool…and if I ever find that planet, they shall SUFFER for this humiliation wrought upon us today. But, no more. I have work to do. Leave me!"
"Yessir," said the executive
officer as Gralnacz struggled to his feet and walked off, looking unexpectedly
tired and defeated.
"Yeah, we DID it!" said Dash as he flung off his goggles. "Venture, we sure kicked them where it hurt!"
"Yes, we did," said Venture. "I think we finally succeeded in sending that enemy force back to its Maker."
"You're wrong, Mark," said Parsons from the tactical radar. "Voorhees and I noticed the other fortress warping out just as the tachyon surge hit the first one."
Venture responded by slamming his fists against his console in frustration. “DAMNIT!” he yelled.
"What's worse, we took more damage thanks to that last enemy hit and the recoil shock from the wave motion gun," said Sandor. "Some of the main engine's control circuits burned out all over again, Venture. We're in a hot stew…again."
"It can't be that bad…can it?" asked Venture with pleading eyes.
"The warp mechanism took some minor damage along with the power circuit. Oh, we can fix it…but we just added six hours of work to the recalibration job. Therefore, as of now, our window is now down to one and a half days…starting six or seven hours after we fix those circuits. And until we fix them, we can't scan for Derek and Nova, either."
"Why not?"
"Too much risk of a
burnout we can't fix, Venture," said Sandor. "I don't argue with what
you had to do. You had to save the ship…Wildstar would understand that. But we
can't fire the wave motion gun again and still expect to warp home to the 23rd
century."
"Yeah, but at least we're free of the enemy for a while," said Venture.
"That sounds good, sir." said Rosstowski from his post. "Except for one thing."
"Yes?" said Sandor in reply as Mark sat in thought.
"Namely, Sandor, what if they come back with the other fortress?" he asked.
Sandor had no answer for that one. He just stared into space in silence.
"Look on the bright side, Venture," said Dr. Sane.
"Is there a bright side, Doc?"
"There is. If the phase of the moon was right and Derek and Nova were looking up down there on the Earth, we just sent them a nice beacon to let them know we're here."
"Yeah, Doc. We also just told every Earth Government on the planet that we're here, too," said Venture.
"We'd better be sure we're back behind the moon," said Sandor. "When I get my sensors repaired, I can pick up those neutrinos through the moon. And behind the moon, we're safe from prying eyes…and missiles…for the most part."
Far off, in the distance, even though it was not mapping the area at the time, a US Lunar Surveyor satellite passed far over the Argo. Holly Parsons watched it, stating, "We have a radar satellite over us. A primitive space probe…one of the nations must be mapping the Moon with it. Luckily, its radar is not picking us up…yet…"
"Yet?" said Venture. "That doesn't sound too promising. Will it be back?"
"Yes…it'll be back over here in forty-one hours, by my reckoning, Mark. And at that time, it'll probably spot us, since it will be coming in closer."
"That cuts us down to thirty-five hours," said Sandor softly. "One day and nine hours left to go. If the Captain and Nova aren't back with us by then…we will have to leave them on 20th Century Earth…forever."
III. A CHASE
Pennsylvania Route 309
Between McAdoo and
Audenreid, PA
Friday, June 23, 1967
1:25 AM, Local Time
"Where are we, Derek?" asked Nova as she and Derek drove on, hoping the police hadn't spotted them.
"We're heading north, that's all I know," he said as the Mustang sped on. "I see a glow in the sky ahead of us over that ridge…must mean there's another town nearby."
"Derek, look at the moon," said Nova.
"I can't do it for long…I'm driving, " replied Wildstar. "I…whoa!" he said, slowing down about 5 MPH from 50. "Look at that bright blue light…and that star near the moon's edge."
"Wave motion gun?" asked Nova quietly.
Derek nodded. "Looks like Mark just took out some enemies…at least now we know where the Argo is…"
"And so does everyone else…"
Derek Wildstar nodded, and then his heart went cold. In his rear view mirror, he had just spotted a flashing red light.
He pulled over, hoping that maybe the police cruiser would just pass. It didn't. It came to a stop behind them, with someone saying authoritatively over the 1966 Chrysler Imperial's roof-mounted bullhorn. "MUSTANG, PULL OVER! NOW! REMAIN IN YOUR VEHICLE AND PUT YOUR HANDS UP ON THAT DAMNED DASHBOARD WHERE I CAN SEE THEM! BOTH OF YOU!! NOW!!!"
Derek and Nova obeyed as a tall policeman shining a bright flashlight approached.
"Son, your license, registration, and insurance card, please," said the police officer as he banged on the window with his flashlight. "And keep those hands on the dashboard when you're done."
Derek complied, turning over the papers Melvin had given them, hoping beyond hope that they wouldn't be found out.
"Hmm…looks OK," said the policeman. "I'm Officer McGannon, Hazle Township Police Department. Do you know why I pulled you over?"
"No, sir," said Wildstar.
"Because you were going fifteen miles per hour over the posted limit, which is thirty. Also, a car that looks similar to yours was observed near a bar fight back in McAdoo a while ago. Actually, I'd say it was more like a riot. You know anything about that, son?"
"No, sir," said Derek calmly, trying to hide the sweat running down his neck.
"Maybe you don't. You just stay there, hmh? I'll be back shortly with your citation."
Nova looked back, watching the policeman as he went to his cruiser, picked up a radio microphone, and began to read information into it. Behind the cruiser appeared another set of headlights.
"Derek, I think he just called for backup," whispered Nova.
"Looks like the game's up," said Derek. "But, one way or the other, we can't let the Star Force down. "
"We can't fight off two cars' worth of police and make a run for it, Derek!"
"Who says we can't?" grinned Derek. "We fought off Gamilons…we can fight off old-style police officers, and…"
McGannon came back, with another figure appearing behind him in the distance. "Here's your ticket…Mister…Wildstar. But I'm afraid I have some worse news for you. Your license plate number is all over the APB bulletin, and it seems two people matching your descriptions are wanted for assault with deadly weapons in that bar fight. You're going to have to get out of that car and come with me…for questioning, at least. I can tell you your bald-headed hippie friend is wanted for manslaughter, maybe even murder."
Derek and Nova got out of the car, slowly. "Your bags, please. Drop them."
They dropped the bags on the ground. "The little lady, first, please. Then you, son."
Nova, with tears in her eyes, submitted to being handcuffed as Derek began to reach for his bag.
"I wouldn't, Derek," said a Russian-accented voice behind him. "Not if I were you, anyway. And I mean it."
Wildstar then felt a gun barrel in his back. He turned his head, ready to spring, but stood in shock when he found his captor was the Russian girl in the black leather catsuit from the bar.
"It's not as bad as it looks, believe me," she whispered. "I'm on your side, Kapitan. Come out."
Derek submitted to being led out by the girl. McGannon stood aghast, even more shocked when another large black Government-issue unmarked sedan pulled up on the wide shoulder of the road near his police car and three men in black suits and sunglasses got out, all holding sidearms.
"Officer, sorry to be unpleasant in the least, but you'll turn your prisoners over to us, please," said the girl.
"Who are you? Who are you with? What's your authority?"
"My name is Mitzi Shavirov, Special Agent, United States Government with S.I.C.A.R.U., and U.S. Special Liaison to U.N.I.T… My credentials, sir," she said, opening up a black wallet with two badges in it.
"What's S.I.C.A.R.U.?" asked McGannon.
"S.I.C.A.R.U. stands for 'Special Internal Control and Reconnaissance Unit,' and U.N.I.T. stands for 'United Nations Intelligence Task Force'," said Shavirov. "The United States Government and the United Nations consider these two individuals and the intelligence that they have in reference to this situation to be very important to both national security and world security. As commander of this local cell of S.I.C.A.R.U., therefore, I am ordering you to turn this investigation and these individuals over to me as representative of the Federal Government. My authority can be confirmed by the local FBI unit if they would refer to the file code named 'Black Russian.' Mister Warren, Mister Yancey, please escort these individuals back to their own vehicle and let Mister Wildstar drive per your direction. I will be following you shortly."
Before McGannon could protest, Derek and Nova were being led towards their own car by two men in black suits wearing dark glasses.
"What sort of people are you?" demanded Derek. "You can't arrest me without a good reason!"
They didn't listen.
"Listen, Captain,
you're not being arrested," said
"Captain?" said Derek. "I'm…I'm not…"
"Cut the crap,"
said Yancey. "We know that you're part of some future military force. We
were just talking to Seadragon earlier, as well as to Miss Shavirov and to the
Scientific Advisor of U. N. I. T. in
"But…" said Nova.
"Captain, Lieutenant,
you are not under arrest, even though we wanted to do so. On the other hand,
per Seadragon's request, and per the request of the U.N.I.T. Scientific
Advisor, you're being deputized to help us. Help us, and we'll keep your cover
and we'll also make sure no one asks too many questions about your space
battleship. If you don't cooperate with us, on the other hand, it'll be a lot
worse for you. Are you going to cooperate?" asked
"What choice do we have?" shrugged Derek. "OK; we'll cooperate, if you help us get back to our ship, mister. For your information, sir, we were fighting a battle with Gralnacz for the sake of our Earth before this temporal disturbance so rudely interrupted us."
"We'll do our best; and the Scientific Advisor is far smarter than you think he is," said Yancey. "Now, start her up and drive, Captain. Agents Shavirov, Miyagawa, and Pike will take care of the local police for us."
Nova sat in shock as a Japanese-looking man in a black suit (whom she guessed was 'Miyagawa') waved some sort of a device that looked like a penlight with three tiny multi-colored lights in front of Officer McGannon's face. A bright light went off, and McGannon suddenly looked a good deal more compliant as he shook hands with Miyagawa.
"You understand, then," said Miyagawa. "These two were wanted on Federal drug warrants, but they've just turned State's Evidence to cooperate with us."
"Yes, of course. They're informants."
"You'll give us the traffic ticket, officer. The Federal Government will pay it and take care of it as part of the investigation on the informants' behalf."
"Of course."
"And you'll allow us to contact your desk sergeant back at Headquarters."
"Yes," said
McGannon. "Thanks for your help, gentlemen. It's nice to know the Federal
Government is helping us keep order here in
Miyagawa breathed a sigh of relief. Thanks to my neuralizer, he thought, another little hole in normal reality is fixed and filled up. Very soon, with that Wildstar's cooperation, we'll have all of this hole filled up, and they can go on with the Summer of Love, blissfully unaware that another invasion has just been stopped…just like that giant monster thing we stopped last month in Okinawa by writing it off as an earthquake. If only they knew what we really did to keep them safe….
IV. A REST
Gus Genetti's
Pennsylvania Route
Friday, June 23, 1967
2:37 AM, Local Time
After a bit of a drive,
Derek and Nova met Mitzi Shavirov and their group and paid for a number of rooms
at Genetti's Motor Lodge, a large motel in
They came to trust Mitzi a little more after they noticed that their weapons were…quietly…returned to them along with two suitcases bearing changes of underwear and that sort of thing.
Fortunately, they could still get food at that late hour. Genetti's featured a nightclub of sorts on its grounds, with a terrible local band playing on a stage behind a large bar, a bar where they were able to get some foods like shrimp cocktails and kielbasa sausage to go with their glasses of beer.
"In the morning,"
said Mitzi, "After breakfast, we will drive to
"What about our return to…our errand?" asked Derek.
"Provided we are successful on Saturday, passage will be arranged for you," said Mitzi. "Don't underestimate Seadragon or the Scientific Advisor, if you take our meaning."
"Who is this…Advisor?" asked Nova. "You said he was British, and you speak very highly of him."
"He has a British
accent, but I sure don't think he's from
"Yes, we do," said Derek. "The food isn't our usual dinner fare, but it's appreciated, particularly because we haven't had anything to eat since evening yesterday."
"Then, let us leave. Your room is Number 545."
"Mitzi, how did you get involved in this?" asked Nova.
"It's a long story," said Mitzi. "It should not be repeated here. Let's go. Barkeep!" she said, plunking a large-denomination bill on the bar. "Keep the change."
Later, in Room 545, Derek and Nova
settled down for bed, aware that their wake-up call would be at 10 AM in the
morning. (Mitzi had arranged it so that they could sleep.) Still, given the
events of the past day, they couldn't help cuddling after they had undressed
for bed. The undressing was complete; as they had no pajamas, they were forced
have to sleep nude. They didn’t mind very much, since their cuddling had led to
a quick, furtive romantic interlude in the darkened motel room that still felt
wonderful.
After they were done, Nova lay back in her husband's arms and began to sob softly.
GRAPHIC: "saikai" (c) 2000 by
"Meixiang"
Illustration originally appeared on Japanese Yamato WWW site:
"Kodai-kun and Yuki's Page". Art used by
permission of Webmaster, "Ai."
Site can be reached at:http://www8.plala.or.jp/moriyuki/
"What's wrong?" asked Derek.
"I'm scared and tired, that's all," said Nova. "We were just pulled off the Argo by Seadragon and all but drafted to stop Gralnacz. Then, we almost got ourselves killed in that bar, we almost were arrested, and now we're carrying out this mission for some branch of the government as well as for Seadragon…and still pretty much by force."
"Nova, maybe we'll buy ourselves some time back in our time if we can kill Gralnacz here in the past. I was thinking that if we make it back into the battle, and the enemy forces are bereft of their leader, maybe we can take advantage of the situation to take out that their space fortress and those subs and rescue the liner...or what's left of it…from that enemy attack. Then we can meet Desslok and investigate that strange planet."
"If, if," said Nova. "Derek, I don't doubt that we can pull this off. But what if we don't? What if we have to live and die in this primitive time? I liked reading about this time, but now that I'm really here, I feel sorry for the people who had to live under these horrible conditions with these fossil-burning cars and that sort of thing. I miss our time, Derek. I miss the Argo…I miss the rest of the Star Force…and I miss the home we just barely had time to move into after we got married. Will we ever get home, Derek? Will we make it?"
Derek, to his credit, didn't try to answer his wife. All he did was held her warm unclad body close to his as they fell into an uneasy sleep haunted by disturbing dreams.
Here ends Part Four of Fixing a Hole
To return to the Introduction to the Rikasha
Incident
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