The Devil's Doorknob BBS Capture (1996-2003)/devilsdoorknobbbscapture1996-2003.iso/Dloads/TEXTFILE/PHLOON.ZIP/PHLOON.TXT

Text File | 1991-08-08 | 8KB | 126 lines

                          How Much For Just The Planet?
                               by Regiment Phloon


        Hello. My name is Regiment Phloon, but most people call me just
Phloon. I am drifting somewhere in the Vizinni system right now. I'd
tell you what planet I'm about to crash on, but I'm afraid the computer
has taken up static as a second language. It's a nice planet though;
ironically, it looks a lot like my home planet used to. Everything
happened so fast that warm winter day. Just last week I was prime
minister of Elmer's World; that's when Astro-Net's agent landed.
        I had been sitting peacefully at my desk when he entered my
office. It was a large alien. I apologize for not being more specific,
but I have lived nearly all my days within the confines of this star
system and have not seen even a small variety of the creatures many men
dealt with on a daily basis. The only aliens that did visit Elmer's
World with any regularity were the fungus traders of Canopus IV who
would often exchange exotic items from the inner worlds for whatever
fungis they could find on the eastern continent. The being confronting
me now could not have been from Canopus IV because he lacked the
gel-like appearance all the Canopans had. It ambled over to a chair,
and, with some difficulty, managed to sit in what looked to be a
horribly uncomfortable position.
        "Greetings offworlder," I said in my most bureaucratic tone,
"Welcome to Elmer's World, the jewel of the Kjjabata system."
        "Czglrrrpcg... eplck," it said in a resolute fasion. I blinked.
It smiled. We had a definate communication barrier.
        "I beg your pardon?" I said cautiously.
        "Pshneyy phop!" it decreed with dramatic movement of various
apendages. It continued with it's tirade and I grew more and more afraid
of this seemingly mad alien. I began fiddling with an old translating
device my uncle had given me once when the alien addressed me again,
this time in Imperial Standard.
        "Your translating device," it said in a loud and imposing voice,
"It will not be necessary. I come as a messenger."
        "By what name do you go by," I managed to sputter, quite taken
aback and still somewhat shaken.
        "My true name fills several volumes in my native text, but you
may call me Tim." His voice markedly gentler now, and I began to feel
more at ease.
        "Hail Tim!" I said, and game him the traditional Imperial salute
by crossing my arms over my chest. "What is this message so important
that you must bring it to me personally?"
        "Prime Minister Phloon-- May I simply call you Regiment? I do so
abhore titles."
        "Call me Phloon," I was feeling completely at ease with him.
        "Phloon, we of Astro-Net, after highly extensive screening and
research, have chosen this planet to be the site of the new Imperial
Outer Rim public expenditure storage and processing facility."
        "Am I to understand," I returned in a steady, even pitch, "that
you are going to convert Elmer's World into a garbage dump?"
        "Yes," he said blinking the multitude eyes that were swaying so
lazily upon their stalks.
        Stunned by the sheer audacity of this vile animal, I yelled
back, "And what do you intend to do with the fourteen MILLION people who
live here?!"
        "Phloon--"
        "Mister Phloon!"
        "Please Mister Phloon," it said in a calming voice, "We at
Astro-Net will have everything taken care of," it leaned back in it's
chair and made surrendering gestures with several appendages. "Everyone
of your people will be relocated on developing crontier colonies."
        His demeanor was sickening! He acted as if I owned the planet!
And those irradiated chunks of rock couldn't even support cockroaches!
With the proper Imperial edict, you could probably have a red giant
re-zoned as colony space! "Mister Tim, I cannot allow you to sell the
population of this planet off like so much cattle. This is absolutely
insufferable!"
        "My dear Prime Minister, we anticipated your unwillingness to
part with your home. We would never think of removing the population of
this world without suitable compensation."
        "By the ledgendary planet Earth! What am I supposed to tell the
citizens?! `Good day people. The economy is in good shape, production is
up twelve percent since last quarter-- oh, and by the way, be sure to
register for the upcomming genocide.'"
        Tim chuckled lightheartedly, "Please please," he said calmer
than ever, "Surely the twelve quintillion credits we offer for rights to
this planet will make you see the rediculousness of your exaggeraton.
Imperial standard currency of course."
        "TWELVE QUINTILLION!" I hooted in utter disbelief, "The price in
lives is immesurable!"
        "Okay Mister Phloon. You seem like a reasonable being," Tim
grinned, "Let's pretend for a minute that a Horacian warship manages to
sneak through the periphery defences. It enters this system and, finding
an inhabited enemy world, fires a series of heavy atomic rockets at the
surface," Tim's grin widened, "The entire population of this world would
be mercilessly butchered by an act of war. One of the dangers of living
in the outer rim. You, by an amazing stroke of fate, happened to be
attending the upcomming convention of Agri-world leaders on Crusis IX.
The twelve quintillion credits would be there for you to carve a new
existance in the galaxy for yourself," Tim's smile ranged from ear to
ear, " All yours, no questions asked. Rather an auspicious arrangement,
Eh?
        "Just think Mister Phloon, an estate on Murray's Pleasure
Planet, your own private battlecruiser, thousands of genetically and
cosmetically engineered women fulfilling your every desire. It is the
life of the proverbial Altedian Sultan, and it could all be yours," He
said with a sweep of one arm.
        I could feel the desire welling up within me, eating away at my
will and soul. The power, the pleasure, the luxury, the women... yet, I
somehow managed to stand firm. After many a tortured moment, I told Tim
how I felt about the matter. I told him that he and his people could not
buy me off of my home. No matter what he they did we would resist, even
if it meant going to war with the Empire itself.
        His eyes narrowed and leaned towards me on their stalks, "I'm
terribly sorry to hear that Mr. Phloon," Tim said flatly,his smile
melting away. He reached into a pocket, "But I'm afraid that we must
have this planet. Since you were... unwilling to cooperate, I shall simply
have to kill you." From the pocket he produced a model seven Martell hand
laser. Panic swept over me. With a sudden flood of adrenalyn I heaved
my desk into Tim. He fell backwards in the chair and the laser discharged
into the ceiling. I ran for the door, but Tim scrambled in font of me
and blocked my path. The distinctive whining sound of a charging laser
rang clear in my ears and I knew that I had but seconds to act. Putting
all trust in old instincts, I landed a mighty kick right in between
Tim's legs. He clutched the wounded area and toppled to the floor with
one great inhuman screech of agony. When I got outside, I saw more
Astro-Net men chasing after me, so I clambered into a nearby ship, tied
in, and triggered the emergency liftoff. The tiny craft shot into space
as Astro-Net negotiaton ships launched a salvo of heavy rockets at the
hapless planet below. My craft was rocked by a near hit and several tiny
missiles were closing very quickly. In my panic I made the jump to
hyperspace blind, leaving me where I am now. Trapped in a small trading
craft, running from the galaxy's largest megacorporation.