Chapter II: "Der Stasi Von Catan"

Zac Appleton, 25.01.MM(S?)

"Zool, death planet where the renegade criminals of ten thousand worlds
etc" said BD Primary Bob Hangline, resting back into his antique seat,
worn to a smooth finish by centuries of predecessors having to state the
same bad news to underlings.

"No!  That can't be right sir!  What would they have us do there?" asked
BD Secondary Michael Artfrog, leaning forward suddenly, his shifting
weight making the ancient wood floor groan below.

"The orders are right in front of me Mike, they arrive by stellar cycle
just three parsecs ago.  Look, you can check the authenticating wax seal
if you don't believe me, it's signed by the DeeK himself, we are going to
Zool."

The course recycled paper brown envelope that had encased the letter still
had glittering beads of nebulaic dust on it.  The wax seal was broken, was
that the seventh this month wondered Mike?  Whatever had stamped the hot
wax was so old as to be rendered illegible, so Mike dug into his pockets,
found what he was looking for and passed his circular fob over the cracked
wax.  The nanocircuits within the molecularly bonded wax responded and a
disembodied voice said, "This is an official University Communiqué, so sod
off!"

With a dejected look, BD Secondary Michael Artfrog said, "If that's it
then, what's the problem the Congregation has given us?"

"Well, it seems the Southern Alliance is massing its fleet near Solis, the
nearest neutron cluster to Zool, it has even sent reconnaissance cruisers
to Zool proper.  This has provoked a reaction from the Northerners, which
have sent their own forces to the region, insofar as one can have a region
in a constantly expanding universe.  The Congregation wants us to
intervene before things get out of hand."  Seeing his worried glance, Bob
says, "Don't worry Mike, I'll avoid excessive force, at least at first.  
We maintain those orbital hydrogen grav-bomb nets around a thousand worlds
for the precise reason that we don't have to use them."

Mike was far from convinced, but decided to let it slide, it simply wasn't
worth the effort.  "Thanks for the plot dumb Bob.  This job sounds pretty
big, should be call the TVP in to help?"

'Reducing crime, disorder, fear...' how will a bunch of comedians, mimes,
and clowns help?"

"Fair enough.  Should I ready the BullDogs?"

"You might as well Mike, oh and do be sure to bring along your inkpulp
tonnage, it might just prove useful."

Within 60 sections of timespace measurements that we call "seconds" that
somewhat equate to a human heartbeat at rest, the Simu-BellTM started to
peal off sonic waves of wall shuddering quality.

Soon, the whole building echoed with the whine of shoe leather, the ruffle
of Communi-CoatsTM being fitted, and the coughs of a thousand Bulldogs
fixing Grava-BowlersTM, neck protectors, and yellow shield armbands.  
With crowd-control transformable shield-rods in hand (equally good for
villains, malcontents, and acid rain), the University Police are ready.

--------------------------------------------------------

"Oo-Sool, watch out for that firkin' firth!"

With a double tone clarion call on FemSoothe Level 5, the PanAudioConTM
sounded, "Warning, three minutes until structural integrity compromised."

Everywhere was the shriek of crushing metal, heart-stopping explosions,
shattering glass control panels, and smoky electrical fires.  Thinking
quickly, the ship's captain, Jim said to the fortunately-present ship's
doctor, "Flesh!  Go check out Oo-Sool, he's not responding to my commands!  
If all else fails, palm that pilot!"

"Dammit Jim, I'm a doctor not an interrogator!"

"I don't want excuses, if we don't get the ship under control,
we'll...all...die!"

Amid the whirlwind of chaos, the captain of St. John's enterprising
industry ship accessed the cargo control panel in stroboscopic light and
jettisoned the Exo-Global Grounders (or EGGs for short) into the vacuum of
space.  A skilled multitasker, he thought, 'how could they have come upon
us so quickly?  Clearly they must've used the Zool's gravity well to hide
from our sensors.  We were just too busy trying to build that bloody
longest road.  Dammit, I hate paper cuts!' In the background of thudding
explosion, crackling fire, and mad havoc, he could here the slaps Flesh
was administering to his worthless pilot.

Just feet away, his seat's Communicator awakened with a report from his
Engineer Burns, "she kanna take it anna more Cap'n, the ships too auld!"

"Come on Robbie, give her haggis!"

Then amongst raucous metacognitive applause, a fabulous blockbusting
explosion destined to deliver an Oscar to the filmmaker's closet brought
about an awful silence.

--------------------------------------------------------

Sally was playing in her home, on the living room floor.  She had nearly
finished building her Lego town, a picture of prefabricated domesticity
destined for destructive fiction.  Unexpectedly, there was a knock on the
door.  Sally sat up and answered the door.  Standing in the hallway beyond
was a man.  The man is dressed in spats-covered leather shoes, a raincoat,
suit, and dark tie.  He has kindly hands and a big open space where his
head should be.

"Hiya Mister, what can I do for ya?"

Without a word, the Man-With-No-Head reaches into his coat and presents a
bright white crystal; he leans down and offers it to the girl.

Sally reaches forward and takes the crystal.  Behind her is the sudden
sound of fluttering wings, Sally quickly turns and finds her home
unchanged.  Sally turns back to thank the man.

Sally finds only an empty hallway.

Sally closes the door and returns to her near-complete town and raiding
barbarian army when she realizes that she still has the crystal in her
hand.