STARSHIP OF FOOLS - (C) 1986 Jerry Kindall and Rex Crossley

CHAPTER TEN

"There is only one difference between me and a madman. I am not mad."
                                                       - Salvador Dali

     Jordann the Immensely Fat's ship orbited an obscure little planet. 
To Jordann, it was Home Planet.  It appeared in no galactic atlases and
was on no major trading routes.  Jordann himself had conquered the
planet only a few months ago.  He always thought of himself as
conquering things, even when, as was the case with Home Planet, there
were no intelligent life-forms to oppose him.  It was good for his ego,
which he kept in a large cargo hold.
     But the real reason Jordann had chosen this planet for his Home
Planet was that the best pickles in the galaxy grew on its surface.
     Jordann teleported down to Home Planet's surface for the banquet in
his honor, which was a huge success.  He was honored by everyone in the
banquet hall (Jordann admired their desire to live), and the Conquerer's
Choir sang several strange songs that Jordann had written himself.  He
feasted on all kinds of food, especially enjoying the pickle
smorgasboard.
     All good things must come to an end, however, and this festive
occasion was no different.  Jordann rode in his heavy-duty industrial
air-limo to Mayor Meyor's office.

                                 * * *

     "When will my nephew Sai-Ko be teleported aboard?" inquired
Jordann.
     "Very soon, my lord," replied Mayor Meyor.  "We--"
     "NO!!" roared Jordann.  "You must call me 'my liege!'  Everybody
has to call me by a different title!"
     "Oh," said Meyor in a very small voice.
     "Well, let's hear it," demanded Jordann.  "Start over."
     "Very soon, my liege," replied Mayor Meyor.  "We must be very
careful in moving him to the teleportation chamber; we don't want to
lose too many servants."
     Jordann's temper flared again.  "Are you going soft on me, Meyor?"
     Meyor held his ground.  "If we lose too many servants, we might not
have enough servants left over to care for him."  He grinned wickedly. 
"Unless, of course, you'd like to take care of him yourself."
     Jordann recoiled in horror.  He knew what Sai-Ko would do, even to
his own uncle.  "You're right, of course," admitted Jordann.  His anger
subsided.  "I'll have to conquer some more civilizations to replenish
our supply of servants.  Where is Condra?"
     Without warning, smoke billowed from the center of the room,
accompanied by a blinding flash of light and a clap of thunder.  A
strong wind blew through the office, pressing Jordann into the couch and
straining it to the breaking point.  The wind subsided as suddenly as it
had begun, and Condra stepped out of the smoke.  "I am here," she
announced in a soft, rich voice.  A hood covered most of her face, and a
dark robe covered the rest of her from head to toe.
     "Very good," said Jordann appreciatively.  He really loved dramatic
entrances.  In fact, he had made one himself earlier that day, when he
had arrived on Home Planet.
     Condra took a seat.  Because of her awesome powers, she dared to do
so without Jordann's permission.  Jordann knew this and fumed silently,
but he also knew that Condra decimated her enemies.  He had no idea what
the word "decimate" meant, but it didn't sound at all pleasant, and he
had no desire to have it happen to him.
     Condra spoke.  "So, why was I summoned here?"  Her voice was lofty
and full of self-confidence.  Jordann would never tolerate this from
anyone else (not even Gruell), but he had to if he wanted Condra's help.
     "Not long ago, my battle fleet was defeated," he told her.  "By the
AFS Glorkwinkle."
     Condra's eyes flashed with rage.  "How dare you say something like
that to me!  Perhaps you'd like to be decimated?"  The overstuffed couch
potato, thought Condra to herself, probably doesn't even know what the
word "decimate" means.
     "Oh no!" cowered Jordann.  "I mean, that's the name of the ship."
     Condra wrinkled her nose in disgust.  "How demented."
     "Oh, I agree," put in Meyor, and Jordann silenced him with a glare.
     "Now I understand," said Condra.  "You want me to aid you in your
revenge on that despicable ship."  She considered this for a moment. 
"What would you offer me?"
     "A position as Chief Sorceress of the galaxy," said Jordann without
hesitation.  He had planned exactly what he would offer her and was sure
she would jump at it.  Someone appointed to this office by the Galactic
Emperor would have all sorts of power.
     She laughed, seeming to be genuinely amused.  "A mere title!  I am
already the most powerful magician in the galaxy, and you know it.  I
had expected more out of you, Jordann."
     Jordann was shocked, but managed to keep his voice level.  "A
spaceship?"
     "You insult my profession.  Magicians have no use for mundane
vehicles."
     "A planet?"  He should be able to do that; after all, he had
conquered Home Planet, hadn't he?  Still, he was growing desperate.  He
held his breath in anticipation.
     Condra considered this, obviously tempted.  "No," she finally said,
and Jordann let out his breath.  The stench of stale pickles wafted
through the room.  She stood up, waving her hand in front of her face to
clear the air.  "Waste no more of my time with your petty bribes."  She
waved her arms in intricate gestures, preparing to transport away.
     "Wait!" cried Jordann in panic.  He really needed Condra.  Without
her, much as he hated to admit it, he might never get his revenge. 
"Name your price."
     Condra turned to him and regarded him coolly.  "The Orb of Oorlon,"
she whispered.  "When you get me that, I will join you."
     Jordann's stared at Condra, his spirits falling.  The Orb of Oorlon
was a magic crystal that magnified the users' magical powers.  It would
make Condra even more powerful and more useful to him; he liked that
idea.  Unfortunately, it was on Oorlon, kept there by the Oracle, who
used it to protect the planet and search out the Chosen One.  The Oracle
was an almost ordinary man whose seemingly minor magical powers had been
magnified a thousandfold by the Orb.  Fulfilling Condra's request would
be absolutely impossible.
     "Yes," he heard himself say.
     "You will need my powers to assist you," she said.  "Therefore I
will accompany you to Oorlon.  You must take only one ship with you. 
And if you deviate from the mission, you will be decimated."  She
wrapped her cloak around her and vanished in a flash of light.
     Jordann looked at Meyor.  His face was ashen; he was obviously
intimidated by Condra.  Jordann made a mental note to find someone else
for the Mayorship, someone who performed better under pressure.  Someone
more like... Burt Reynolds.
     Meyor opened his mouth to speak, but a buzzer on his desk sounded
before he could.  He read the entry on the computer screen and turned
back to Jordann.
     "Sai-Ko has been successfully teleported to your ship, my lor-, uh,
liege.  We lost only thirty servants.  Extra servants are now being
teleported aboard to attend to him."
     "Excellent," said Jordann.  "Oh, and have a couple more barrels of
pickles sent up, would you?  We're running low."
     "Yes, my liege."
