There wasn’t much of a decision to make, because the Kruton was a sitting duck. Temporarily disoriented by a freak accident, probably wondering what the hell was going on, his Kruton counterpart was probably still scraping himself off the forward bulkhead, if he (or it) survived the impact at all, an impact that had to have been ten times greater than the one the Repulse’s crew had experienced. The time to strike was now. The only question was getting back far enough to be safe from the effects of a thermonuclear blast delivered by a missile.
Rhodes’s voice came into Wanker’s ears. “Shall we arm a ship-to-ship missile, Captain?”
“No! No time! Look at the gamma-wave spike! The Kruton is arming his weapons! We’ll have to use the particle beam accelerator.”
“Sir, that old thing hasn’t been fired in years. Why, last time—”
“Shut up and turn that relic on!”
Svensen shouted, “It’s automatically powered up on the sounding of battle stations, sir!”
“Okay, then, aim the goddamned thing and shoot!”
“Huh? I mean, sir?”
“Aren’t you the gunnery officer, Svensen?”
“Uh, yeah.”
“Well, shoot the Kruton ship. Shoot it. You know…”
“You mean, just go ahead and bang away at point-blank range?”
“What, you want to give him a sporting chance? Shoot already!”
“Anything you say, Captain.”
Svensen shot. A tremendous bolt of energy left the underside of the Repulse and caught the Kruton amidships. A brilliant explosion enveloped the latter.
Wanker was momentarily blinded. When his vision cleared again, he could not locate the Kruton battle cruiser.
“Where the hell’d it go?”
“Sir, it’s still there,” Rhodes told him. “It’s just in pieces.”
Wanker tried to focus his vision on the images that swam around his head. He checked his data displays.
“Oh, yeah. We got it.”
“We sure did, Captain! Yeee-ahhhh-hooooo!”
“Contain yourself, Mr. Rhodes.”
But Wanker could hardly do so himself.
CHAPTER 16
Rhodes said, “Scanners are picking up radioactive debris, sir. Looks like we hit him dead center!”
O’Gandhi said, “He is being definitely dead this time, Jim!”
“Are there any other Kruton warships within scanner range?” Wanker asked.
“Not a one,” Rhodes reported.
“Splendid,” Wanker said with satisfaction. “Navigator, plot a course directly to Forces headquarters on Alpha Centauri Two. And this time get it right, please.”
Warner-Hillary said brightly, “Yes, sir!”
“Secure from battle stations!”
To everyone’s complete astonishment, the armor plates retracted neatly and silently back up into their slots in the overhead.
“Must’ve just needed oiling,” Mr. Rhodes said with a big bucktoothed, hayseed grin. “Mr. Sadowski strikes again.”
Wanker said, “All right, this is no time for recriminations. We’re in an interstellar war, toe-to-toe with the Krutons. I’ll bet even money that when this little fracas is over, there’ll be some important citations and commendations for you all, regardless of your race, your creed, or your sexual preference. In fact, I wouldn’t be surprised—”
Darvona said meekly, “Captain?”
Wanker said, “I wouldn’t be surprised if at the end of this thing—”
“Captain, please?”
“What, what! What is it?”
Darvona said, “Uh.… I made a little boo-boo, too.”
Wanker’s face fell a kilometer. “Boo-boo.” Darvona nodded.
“Yep. I decoded the message wrong.”
Wanker gave this news deep, serious consideration. “You… decoded the message wrong.”
Darvona said, “Yeah, the coded message from Command Central? I ran the wrong de-encryption program and it came out all wrong.”
“You… ran… the wrong…”
“Deciphering program. Yes, sir. When a coded message comes in, it comes with a little thingie that tells you what de-encryption program to run on it. And I guess I read the thingie wrong.”
“Thingie,” Wanker repeated.
“You know, the little … thing, there.”
Captain Wanker got to his feet and approached her. “Lieutenant Roundheels?”
“Yes, sir?”
“What… excuse me for asking… but, what did the message really say?”
Darvona said, “The message reads, ‘Stop all activity and return to base immediately. Acknowledge.’”
Wanker said, “Let me get this straight. We crossed the neutral zone. We intruded on Kruton space. We blasted a Kruton battle cruiser to radioactive flinders. And we are not at war with the Krutons. Is this… is this pretty much the way YOU read the situation, Lieutenant?”
Darvona nodded. “Yes, sir. That’s pretty much it.”
Wanker clasped his hands behind his back and paced. “Let me go over that again. We were at peace with the Krutons. Then we … we … us… we cross the neutral zone. We destroy, you know, like, wipe out… a Kruton battle cruiser. All the while, unbeknownst to us… we are still at peace with the Krutons.”
Darvona nodded. “Yes, sir. That’s pretty much what we went and did.”
O’Gandhi said, “Oh, my gosh, we are in very deep dew, Dave. Would you be having some pills, then?”
“No. Remember that cyanide cocktail you were going to whip up?”
“Oh, I am remembering. Would pukka sahib have me fetch it for him now?”
Strangefinger said, “Wanker, my congratulations. You struck a blow for freedom. War is hell, but it’ll be a hell of a war, now that you started it.”
Wanker boiled. “I started it? You miserable, rotten … ”
“Marcel! Marcel! Come back!”
O’Gandhi said, “He’s chairman of the English Department, Dave!”
Strangefinger and Rusty were both sitting on crates near the blow tube, playing cards.
Wanker came up to Rusty. “You! Plug that damned machine in again!”
Rusty picked up the remains of Marcel by a trailing wire and honked forlornly.
“Marcel took a Fulbright and went to Dublin,” Strangefinger said. “And a good place for him.”
Wanker pointed an accusing finger at the navigator. “You! You did this! No! You all did it! You’re all against me. You’ve been against me since I came aboard this ship!”
Looking like a caged animal, Wanker sank into the captain’s chair and pulled out two shiny spheres from his tunic pocket: ball bearings. He began to fiddle with them in one hand, clicking them together.
“Ever since I’ve taken command of this vessel I’ve encountered nothing but insubordination, subterfuge, incompetence, and duplicity. I proved with geometric logic that there must have been a duplicate key to the galley and that the crew was constantly pilfering from ship’s stores.”
Crew and guests alike exchanged confused looks.
They all chorused: “What?”
“Never mind, never mind. As I was saying—”
Dr. O’Gandhi appeared at the captain’s side, and in a sudden burst of lucidity said, “Captain, I’m relieving you of command.”
“What the devil are you jabbering about now?”
“As chief medical officer, it is my duty to judge all personnel fit or unfit for duty. Captain, you are one sick, paranoid puppy!”
“I’m sick. Me? You insane little towel-headed pill-popper, you’re telling me I’m unfit for duty? Get out of here.”
“Oh, Captain, on the contrary, it is you who have been hitting the pill bottle for that last week. And you have been sequestering yourself in your quarters too very much. A veritable hermit, by gosh.”