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

CHAPTER THIRTY

"The most dangerous thing in the world is to leap a chasm in two jumps."
                                                  - David Lloyd George

     Xorn followed the music.
     Now that he was closer to it, Xorn could recognize the instrument.
Bagpipes.  A fine choice, he thought, even though he was partial to the
flute himself.  He was getting very close, he realized.
     He turned a corner and stopped short as he saw the bagpiper, an
alien with a huge nose and pointed ears.  The piper paused to sneeze. 
"Blaaahchoo!"
     As he wiped his nose, the alien noticed Xorn standing there.  "Who
are you?" he gasped.
     "I'm Xorn Smith III," Xorn replied, while inconspicuously reaching
for his blaster.  You never could tell about strange aliens you might
meet on Melvin's ship.  "And who are you?"
     "I'b Sdort Frogbagger," replied Snort.  "Ad who are you to be askig
'Who are you?'"
     "I'b -- I mean, I'm a friend of the Captain's.  I just happened to
be passing by, and I saw what was happening.  So I came over to see what
I could do."
     "Oh, well, thed, you bust be okay.  The reasod I'b here is that
Belvid sort of rescued be ad by freds."
     "Which freds?  I mean, friends."
     "Oh, Zordoff the sorceror, ad Zot B'dodte Cob-leppour.  We ad a few
others have beed travellig with Belvid for a while."
     The names baffled Xorn, especially Zot's.  He could barely decipher
Snort's distorted speech.  "A few others?"
     "Yeah.  Rhyelia Sent 'ali, ad her fred Chester, ad sub guy frob
Earth dabed Batt Baker."
     "So where are these people, Rhyelia and Chester and -- Batt?"
     "Beats be," said Snort.  "I'be beed too busy puttig Bhujb id the
slabber."
     Xorn recognized Bhujm's name.  "You mean you're messing with
Jordann the Immensely Fat?" he asked incredulously.  "He's only the
meanest, baddest, not to mention biggest, bad man in the galaxy!"
     "Yep," said Snort, with a certain amount of pride.
     "But that's crazy!" exclaimed Xorn.
     "So what?" asked Snort.  "You got subthig agedst crazy people? 
Besides, it was a batter of self-defedse.  Jordadd attacked Zot's ship,
thed this ship.  Ad if we dote do subthig, he's goig to destroy Belvid's
pladet about dide years id the future."
     Without a word, Xorn turned to head off in search of the nearest
liquor facility, for that was surely where he would find Melvin.  Snort
followed.  He was worried about Melvin too.

                                 * * *

     Jordann left the galley, munching on a deformed pickle.  Ambling
toward the freight elevator, ready to search for nerds on the next deck,
he noticed a light in the teleporter room.  He grinned evilly at his
luck.  Who would have thought that he would find his enemy in the room
he had just visited not too long ago?
     Jordann crashed into the teleport room, his train of thought
chugging into high gear.  We looked up in alarm.
     Chester took one look at the oversized being charging directly at
him and decided to attack.  Fists flying, he leaped toward Jordann.
     Jordann looked calmly at Chester's rushing body.  He whipped out
his stunner from his belt, aimed it while simultaneously adjusting it
expertly, and stunned the heck out of Chester.  Chester collapsed on the
floor with a thud.
     "All right!" roared Jordann.  "Where's the Captain?"
     Donald leaped in front of the stunner.  "Shoot!  Shoot!" he cried
joyfully.
     Jordann ignored him for now, confused.  He wanted to dance on the
diminuitive alien's innards, but this guy looked as though he would
enjoy that too much.  So he turned his attention back to the rest of us.
     Zot answered Jordann's question while trying to wrap Rhye with
aluminum foil.  If a stun beam hit her, she would lose her static charge
and the plan would be ruined.  The foil would minimize the loss of her
static charge.  "We don't know," he said.
     "Well, then, who's the second in command?" Jordann demanded.
     There was silence for a while.  Melvin didn't really have a second
in command with his entire crew missing.  The others came to a decision,
and the fingers of my good friends Zot, Donald, Zordoff, and Rhye (whose
finger poked through the foil), pointed toward me.
     "Uhh..."  I started, then stopped, then started, then cleared my
throat, then started again.  "Uhh... I guess I am," I said, backing away
from his menacing gun.
     Jordann wasted no time.  He adjusted the stunner with his thumb
even as he raised it.  As it came to bear on me, I saw that it was set
for permanent stunning, I mean, killing.
     "Say 'pickle,'" said Jordann.  He wanted the immediate satisfaction
of murdering at least one conniving nerd before he got down to torturing
the others.
     "Pickle," I said.  At the magic word, Jordann pulled the trigger. 
Fiery pain raced through my body and my consciousness exploded in a
thousand points of light.  I died.
     As it happened, there was more to death than I had thought.

