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

CHAPTER THIRTY-TWO

"The rumors of my death have been greatly exaggerated."
                                                            - Mark Twain

     I woke up.
     Everybody reacted at once.  Zot leaped back in astonishment, and I
really couldn't blame him.  Undoubtedly this incident would utterly ruin
his credibility.
     Donald goggled.
     Jordann regained consciousness, winced and flubbered, flailed his
arms around, and tried to right his incredible bulk.  It was no use.  He
stared at me in amazement.
     Rhye looked up from an intense study of the floor at the sound of
Jordann's flubbering.  She blinked indifferently and resumed her
research.
     Donald goggled.  "He is not," he protested to Zot, who winced.
     Chester just laid on the floor, stunned.  (That was because Jordann
had stunned him, not because I had returned from the dead.)
     Zordoff gasped.  "You truly are the Chosen One," he said in awe.
     Too quickly, I sat up, and the room spun about me.  One of these
days I hoped to get the hang of this waking-up business.
     "Hi guys," I said, waving my arm and looking at it fondly.  It sure
was nice to be back in my real body again.
     "Sellftof," whispered Donald, goggling.
     "Some research has been done in the field of astral life," remarked
Zot, trying to regain his credibility.  "It seems, however, that you are
the first to return with empirical data."
     "Yeah," I lied casually.  "I knew that."
     "M nmmn mn mn mn mn m nm nm nm nmn," mumbled Chester as he woke up.
     Rhye looked up at the sound of Chester's voice and shivered.
     Rhye's motion attracted Zot's gaze.  He had almost forgotten about
her.  "We must hurry!  Rhye's static charge is dissipating."  Sure
enough, her hair was beginning to go flat.
     Donald nodded eagerly, hunting through a cardboard box marked
"EXPLOSIVES" until he found what was needed.  He stuffed his pockets
with explosives and connected a detonator to them.  Experimentally, he
began pressing the detonator buttons.  Zot stopped him just in time and
explained the function of each button.
     At last Donald was ready to go.  He stepped into the teleport
cubicle while Zot wrapped wire around Rhye's head, connecting the free
end to the power lead of the teleporter.  "The electrons can be coerced
into taking the resistive course despite the obvious advantages of
remaining in a static condition..."  Zot rambled on for a while.
     "There," he said when he was done.  "Now all I need is a ground
connection.  Who will volunteer?"
     "I will," I said.
     Zot handed me a thick, wicked-looking wire.  "Just hold this part,"
he said, indicating the bare end.  Then he turned to the controls and
set the co-ordinates of Jordann's ship.  "Ready?" he asked, then,
without waiting for a reply, pressed the TELEPORT button.

                                 * * *

     "All right," said Xorn.  "This is probably it."  He and Snort stood
before a door marked "Officer's Liquor Supply."  He turned the knob and
pushed on the door, which opened easily.
     "Come on," Xorn whispered, drawing his laser pistol.  Holding the
gun ready in his right hand, he edged carefully into the room, Snort
following.
     "SChloonnnnnnkkk."
     "Stop that," hissed Xorn.
     "I did't do that." protested Snort.
     "No?"
     "Doe!"
     "Then what was it?"
     "SChloonnnnnnnkkk."
     "Beats be."
     They edged further into the room.
     SLAM!
     Zot whirled in panic.
     "Relax, dubby, it's just the door," said Snort's voice.  "It's od a
sprig."
     "SChloonnnnnnnkkk."
     "Where are the lights?"
     "We'll have to fide the light switch."
     They maneuvered around shelves and cabinets, trying not to run into
too many things.
     Clunk.
     "Umph," reported Xorn.  "I just tripped over something."
     "I foud the lights," announced Snort, turning them on to reveal
Xorn sprawled on the unconscious Melvin, who was snoring peacefully.
     "SChlooonnnnnnkkkkk," snored Melvin.
     "Melvin!" exclaimed Xorn happily, slapping Melvin across the face a
few times.  When that failed to rouse him, Xorn poured a handy bucket of
cold water on him.
     "Blublublblbulbllulll," blubbered Melvin, instantly awake.  He sat
up.  "Ohhhhhhh," he moaned as the hangover hit full force.
     "Melvin!" Xorn exclaimed.
     Melvin's head snapped up to look at him, or at least did a passable
impression of snapping up.  His eyes widened as he recognized Xorn. 
"Xorn!"
     "Melvin!"
     "Xorn!"
     Melvin leaped to his feet and clasped hands with Xorn.  "It's good
to see you again," said Melvin.  "But what are you doing here?"
     "Well, I just happened to be in the neighborhood, and I saw that
your ship might be in a little trouble..."
     Melvin looked confused.  "What trouble?"
     "Oh, Jordann's starship, for one thing."
     "Oh, that," said Melvin casually, covering up for the fact that he
didn't really remember much about the battle since he had been under the
influence most of the time.
     "And where's your crew?" asked Xorn.
     "How am I supposed to know?" asked Melvin.  Then he thought of
something.  "Do you mean my old one or my new one?"
     "Well, either," responded Xorn.
     "Then the answer is simple.  I still don't know."
     "THE CREW IS IN THE TELEPORT ROOM, EXCEPT FOR DONALD WHIMPERWORT,
WHO HAS JUST BEEN TELEPORTED OVER TO JORDANN'S SHIP TO BLOW IT UP,"
boomed a voice.
     "Who said that?" asked Xorn.
     "Dot be."
     "THIS IS FILBERT."
     "FILBERT?" asked Xorn.
     "The ship's computer," explained Melvin.  "FILBERT is an acronym
for --"
     "So where's Jordadd?  Ad his party?" cut in Snort.
     "THEY HAVE BEEN NEUTRALIZED.  ONLY JORDANN AND BHUJM ARE STILL
ALIVE AND ARE BEING HELD CAPTIVE.  IN ADDITION, THERE SEEMS TO BE A
ZOMBIE RUNNING AROUND IN THE CORRIDORS."
     "Anything else?"
     "YES."  FILBERT paused, wondering how to break the news.  "MATT
BAKER WAS KILLED."
     "What!  What?  What?!" Melvin screamed incoherently.  "Matt Baker? 
The same one I brought from Earth?"
     "YES."
     "Aaaaaaiiighhh!" screamed Melvin in anguish, tearing his hair out.
     "DON'T WORRY.  HE HAS RETURNED FROM THE DEAD."
     Melvin immediately calmed back down and tried to put his hair back
in despite the surface impossibility of FILBERT's statement.
     "Let's go," commanded Xorn in a take-charge voice.  It was obvious
that Melvin was in no condition to make snap command decisions.  Xorn
struggled to remember the last time Melvin had been fit for command.  He
failed.

