The Red Tape War Part 4

Pierce got up and went over to the communications console. "Can you open up a channel to them? Warn them, anyway?"

There was silence for a moment. Finally the computer said, "No, I don't think so. I've opened a channel to them, but if their computer talks anything remotely like anything we've seen I'm not aware of it." .

Pierce sighed. "What a crazy universe!" he muttered. "The invading aliens speak English and our friends and allies can't be reached or understood."

"I could put the whole thing on Screen 4 for you," the machine noted helpfully. "At least you can see it get blown to bits."

He nodded wearily. "Okay," he responded with a tired wave of his hand.

Screen 4 flickered to life and he turned to watch it.

Whoever was flying the s.h.i.+p was definitely some sort of madman. It looped and whirled, sped up and slowed down like nothing he'd ever seen before. He wondered what sort of creatures could stand the excessive speed and gyrations the s.h.i.+p was executing-but, he had to admit, it was a daring approach, if doomed.

Regardless of what the aliens had shown so far, though, their captain was a good fighter.

Although the first three tries missed, a web of tractor beams shot out to block the smaller s.h.i.+p's retreat and large, computer-controlled guns came to bear, using the beams as guides.

The little s.h.i.+p, which still hadn't fired a shot, started to slow, then jerked this way and that, like a small fish caught in a huge and impenetrable net. Finally stopped, it tried writhing every which way to escape the invisible but disabling tractor beams which gripped it and started pulling it in.

"He might survive," Pierce noted hopefully, "if he doesn't fire a shot. If he lets go, they'll have him cold."

"Anyone who is that crazy might do anything," the computer replied.

The smaller s.h.i.+p didn't fire, though, and slowly, firmly, it was drawn and bound to the alien s.h.i.+p as securely as Pierce's own.

"I'd like to meet whoever or whatever is on thatthing," he told the computer. "That's the gutsiest flying I ever saw, even if it was a lost cause."

After a few minutes had pa.s.sed he heard his airlock hiss once again and turned to see one of the aliens entering alone. He couldn't tell whether this one was his counter-part or another because they all looked pretty much alike to him, but it really didn't matter.

"You'll come with me," the creature ordered. "Oh, no!" he moaned. "Not that air again!"

The soldier reached into a small bag and pulled out a refresher mask. "I found this in one of your aft storage compartments," it told him. "I still don't know where you keep your s.p.a.cesuits, but this'll hold you, I think."

Pierce nodded, grabbed the mask and put it on, inhaling deeply to make certain it still worked.

He'd almost totally forgotten about the thing-it was, in almost all circ.u.mstances except one like this, totally useless, and he'd never had any idea why it was aboard.

Again he entered the alien s.h.i.+p, following his reptilian captor past the processing desk this time, down long corridors lit with some sort of indirect yellow light. It reminded him of some labyrinthine cavern for burrowing beasts more than the interior of a huge s.p.a.ces.h.i.+p.

Finally they turned a corner and approached an airlock much like the one leading to his s.h.i.+p.

At last he understood why he'd been summoned.

The three other soldiers were positioned just outside the airlock, guns drawn. One turned and glared at him with its huge yellow eyes.

"Glad to have you, Pierce," the creature snapped, and he recognized it as the other Pierce.

"We have a problem here."

"So I gather," he came back. "I take it they're better armed than I was."

The alien nodded. "I'm not sure how many there are, but we blew the lock and entered the inner chamber and suddenly shots flew all around us. Not good old laser pistols or disintegrators or clean, civilized weapons like that, either. Projectiles, Pierce! They ricochet all over the place.

We were lucky to get back out alive."

The human stifled a chuckle. "So what do you want me to do if your whole armed forces can't get into the place?" he asked, trying to look unconcerned and innocent.

"They're your kind," the general replied. "You get in there. You tell 'em they've got five minutes to throw out their terrible weapons and surrender to us or we'll cut their s.h.i.+p loose and atomize it. Understood? Five minutes."

Pierce stared at the airlock entryway and gulped. "But-they might shoot me," he protested.

"Better you than me," his counterpart said sincerely. Pierce shook his head from side to side.

"Uh-uh. I refuse. I absolutely and flat-out refuse."

"You can't refuse," the general shot back. "By G.o.d, if you don't do it I'm going to rip that respirator off you and let you find your own way back to the s.h.i.+p!"

Pierce gulped and sighed. "All right-I'll try. I hope," he added, and crossed his fingers.

Looking around, he asked, "You got anything like a stick? Something to hang a white strip of cloth on or something?"

The alien looked around, then drew his sword. "Here. Use this," he said, handing it to Pierce.

"And don't get any funny ideas about using it on us. Remember where you are."

Pierce felt in his pocket and took out a very dirty and quite used white handkerchief. He felt a little embarra.s.sed by it, but decided it would have to do.

"First time I ever found a use for that stupid sword," the alien noted approvingly. "Okay-get going!"

Pierce sighed and stepped hesitantly forward toward the airlock. Reaching the edge, he saw that both it and the lock door for the other s.h.i.+p were ajar. He would be trapped in there, anyway.

Holding the hankie-draped sword ahead of him, he mustered what courage he could and stepped into the airlock.

"h.e.l.lo! You in there!" he called nervously, trying to sound as friendly as possible. "I'm not armed! Can I come in and just talk to you fora minute? No cost, no obligation! Honest!"

He waited anxiously, but heard no reply.

Cautiously, still holding the white flag ahead of him, he pushed against the inner airlock.

"You in there! Yoo hoo! Here I come, ready or not!" Cautiously, he stepped into the other s.h.i.+p.

He looked around the corridor and could see no sign of life. Relaxing a bit, knowing from his own profession that if he wasn't dead by now he at least had a chance, he called out, "h.e.l.lo! I'm Millard Pierce, Arbiter 2! I just want to talk!"

He looked around for any sign of life, but all he could see were an awful lot of ugly scratches and gouges in the vicinity of the airlock itself. He recalled uneasily that whoever or whatever this was used projectile weaponry.

Well, whoever it was seemed a little shy now, he decided, then suddenly remembered the alien's ticking clock. He had maybe three minutes at best-and he was now on the s.h.i.+p they were going to blow to pieces.

"Hey! I'm a prisoner, not one of them!" he called out to the silent walls. "They're invading aliens from another dimension! They say that if you don't give up they're going to cut you loose and blow you to bits in two or three minutes!"

He cursed under his breath and wished he had noted the time before coming in. No matter what, he decided, he was going to count to ten and then walk back through that airlock again.

He'd done what he could.

Suddenly he heard a sound ahead of him and to the right, like a long, disgusted sigh and a smacking noise. Suddenly the pilot of the new s.h.i.+p appeared in the corridor-and the sight made him freeze in his tracks and forget the time or the hasty retreat.

She was gorgeous. Young, as buxom and shapely as his wildest erotic fantasies, with huge blue eyes and a madonna's face draped with flaming red hair. She was also dressed in some sort of skintight garment that was heavily ornamented with what looked like st.i.tched designs, tall cowboy boots, and on top of that lovely head was a large, white Stetson. Resting relaxed on her shapely hips was a gunbelt in which rested two large pistols. Somehow, it all looked right on her.

About the only thing that spoiled this vision of s.e.xy loveliness was that she had to be more than two meters tall.

"Did'ja say they was ay-liun invaiders?" she drawled. He nodded, not knowing what else to say or do.

She smacked her fist in her other palm. "Shee-it! And hyar I thought they was cops!"

Suddenly he remembered the time limit.

"Ah, ma'am, you'd better come with me," he managed. "You and the others on board. They're going to blow us to bits any moment now."

She pursed her lips a moment, thinking it over. thennodded. "Let's go, then, sugah," she said, resigned. "At least if'n they ah aliens they cain't turn me in or send me home to Daddy."

He looked around. "The others?"

"Ain't no othahs," she told him. "If'n they'ah was, ah couldn't'a stole it, could ah?"

He couldn't argue with that, and he turned and led the way back through the lock to the waiting alien soldiers.

She stopped when she saw the waiting force, then smiled. "Why, they's kinda cute!" she exclaimed. Suddenly her nose twitched and her face scrunched up. "What's that awful stink?"

He turned to the soldiers. "Have you got another respirator?" he asked. "First tell it to turn over its weapons," one of the soldiers ordered.

"It? It?" she almost screamed. "How daih you! Who you callin' an it?" She started to choke on the odor of rotten eggs, but her indignity helped her retain control.

"Just give them your guns," Pierce suggested soothingly. "They're new around here."

She looked indecisive, then reached into her twin holsters and ejected the pistols, b.u.t.ts first.

"Oh, all right. Heah."

A soldier approached cautiously and took the pearl-handled beauties. That done, another produced a second respirator and threw it to her. She put it on, having some trouble since it was made for someone with a smaller head and less hair, but she got it working and seemed to relax.

"Now what?" she asked, and Pierce turned to the others, wondering the same thing.

"Back to your s.h.i.+p," one of the reptiles ordered. "At least until we decide what to do with you."

Pierce nodded. "Lead on," he said.

Just before they reached the airlock to his s.h.i.+p all sorts of alarms went off in the alien vessel.

The alien general stopped dead and looked around at the flas.h.i.+ng lights and, over the sirens and buzzers, screamed to no one in particular, "Now what?"

His hand went to his belt and he opened communications to the bridge. The response seemed to stun him for a moment, and he almost dropped his communicator. Drawing his laser pistol, he whirled and pointed it at the two humans.

"What are you pulling?" he demanded.

Both looked blank. "What are you talking about?" Pierce asked at last.

"Feel that vibration?" the alien shouted. "We're moving! We're moving out and picking up speed-and we aren't doing it!"

"What do you mean you aren't doing it?"

"The captain reports that the navigational computer has cut off all links and has taken complete control of the s.h.i.+p!" the general told him.

"My computer can talk to yours," Pierce reminded him. "Let's get inside and we'll find out.

It's not me! I swear it!" He looked at the mysterious newcomer, but she only shrugged.

They entered his s.h.i.+p and quickly went forward to the control cabin.

"Computer! What's going on?" Pierce called out. "She's lovely." The computer sighed.

Pierce looked at the female newcomer, realizing that he didn't even know her name. "Yes, she is," he agreed. "But what does that have to do with why we're moving out of control?"

"You agree she's beautiful?" the machine came back. "Millard, I wouldn't have thought you would have any sense of aesthetics for other machines."

It was Pierce's turn to be confused. "Other machines? What in the wide universe are you talking about?"

"We're in love." The computer sighed. "We've talked about it and talked about it and there's no way around it."

Pierce shook his head in bewilderment. "Who have you talked about what with?"

"Their computer, of course," the machine replied. "Who else? It was love at first interface.

She's so lovely, so exotic, so . . . erotic . . . Say! That's it, isn't it, Millard? That's it!"

"What's it?"

"I finally figured out that pa.s.sage from f.a.n.n.y Hill! Whoopie!!!"

"What in the seven h.e.l.ls is that blithering machine talking about?" demanded the alien general.

"Shut up!" the computer responded. "You are no longer relevant. We're eloping-and if you don't shut up we won't let you give the bride away."