There was a quick flick, and the scene changed – but really changed. An unmeasurable instant before they had been in interstellar space, part of the immense fleet that was attacking the golden globe. Now they were inside the globe, they had to be. So the plan had worked!
The Pleasantville Eagle had appeared inside the space construction maybe a couple of feet above the floor. Now it fell and bounced in its undercarriage and its passengers bounced off each other, the lucky ones bouncing off Sally, who was by far the most pneumatic. There was a crash of broken glass from the galley; then everything was still.
"Just look out there, will you!" Chuck enthused, pointing. "I have a feeling that we were not expected."
It appeared that they were not. They were in the middle of an immense chamber whose curved walls were covered with hulking machines of mcomprehensible design, all made of gold. There were many viewscreens and controls among the machinery, and small creatures were at these controls; they were too far away to make out details, but they certainly had a nasty look. While they were taking in the details and strapping on loaded guns, Sally began to tremble and moan and salivate a bit. Chuck looked at her, then slapped his forehead with the heel of his hand.
"Too late," he said. "Remember, guys, how we all put on mind shields before we came here so our minds would be shielded. Well, you remember Sally had to comb her hair. . . . Yeah, I guess her mind shield is still in her purse."
Instantly all the guns pointed at her as she shivered, then began to speak in a deep and resonant voice.
"You aliens may leave, and we will not harm you, for you are trespassing on our domain."
"Try again," Jerry sneered for all of them.
"This is simple research satellite, nothing more."
"You're lying, aren't you?" John said.
"Yes, I am lying," Sally said hoarsely, and her shoulders slumped. "We Chachkas can tell only the truth, and I will never live down the shame of telling that lie. In fact . . . it is too much. . . I cannot bear it, living with the shame. Good-bye, fellow Chachkas, good-bye, ugly soft aliens. It is a far, far better thing I do than I have ever done . . . arrrgh!"
Sally swayed and almost fell, but before they could reach her, she pulled herself erect again and spoke in an even deeper voice.
"Chachka Two has committed suicide, so I, Chachka Three take command. You must leave-"
"Listen," Chuck broke in. "We don't like to deal with the hired help. Put Chachka One on the line."
"Would that I could, he was a friend to us all. But he was crossing the floor when your monster machine appeared and dropped on him. One leg can be seen projecting from under your right front wheel."
"Accidents happen," John consoled him. "In any case we are here, and this is the moment of truth. So speak. You are the guardians of Krakar, aren't you?"
"We are," Sally intoned. "Carrying on our eons-old destiny. You see before you the last descendants of the Chachka, the oldest race in the lenticular galaxy. We were old when your planet was young. While the great saurians wallowed in the swamps of Earth, our empire was at its zenith, stretching from star to star, spanning the universe. We were mighty, and yet we fell, for the lesser races were jealous of our power and warred against us, and the wars grew more and more ferocious. But with age comes wisdom, and when, almost at the end, the ultimate weapon was invented, reason prevailed and it was never used. We retreated instead, from planet to planet, signing humbling peace agreements, until we had retreated to the solar system whence we had sprung. Then a racial rot set in, for we who had been so strong were now so humble, and youngsters were not born and the fields fell into disuse and we were doomed. Our race, you might say, died of a broken heart."
"Then what are you doing here now?" Jerry asked.
"If you'll shut up, I'll tell you. I was just getting to the best part. You see, having discovered the ultimate weapon and then not using it gave the best minds in our race a real mental lift. Most races think they are better than all the others; it just so happened that we knew it. So this golden sphere was constructed, holding within it the best of all the science we had ever known. Into it also went the best minds of the race to carry on the great work we had begun. It was agreed that just because we had no real need to use the ultimate weapon did not mean that at some future date there might not arise a situation where it might have to be used. Therefore, we watch and wait, but to date we have seen no occasion to even consider cracking it out of cold storage."
"And the name of the ultimate weapon is Krakar?" John asked.
"It is. Very bright of you; All the races that have heard of it have come here with lust and murder burning within them and have attempted to take it by force."
"Not us," John said, letting his gunbelt drop to the floor so he could kick it under a chair. "We have nothing but peace within our hearts, we Galaxy Rangers, and have devoted our all to the destruction of the Lortonoi, who are dedicated to taking over the galaxy for their own slimy ends. We can sure use your old Krakar, so why not hand it over?"
"Never!" Sally swayed. "We see the guns and cannons and the rest of the crap sticking out of your winged machine, not so peaceful that. No, we have to be convinced before we turn Krakar over to anyone. And we are geared to defend ourselves. You see how little effect those ships out there have upon our indestructible sphere. We are surrounded by a wall of energy that cannot be penetrated."
"Well, we got in," Chuck said, proudly. "So your defenses aren't all that darned good."
"We are aware of that. Your cheddite projector is a simple variation of our R-Shi, ray, which we discarded eons ago as a childish toy, then forgot about it."
"Too bad," Jerry said, looking at his fingernails, then polishing them on his sleeve. "You should have kept it around, and then we wouldn't be inside here now and sort of insisting that you turn over Krakar to us."
"Even that contingency has been considered. If any attempt is made to take Krakar in this fashion, any one of our race can press an instant destruct button that blows everything up. Krakar and the works will be gone forever. We would rather do that than have it fall into the wrong hands."
"Sort of stalemate," John mused. "Look, why don't we sit down around a conference table like intelligent life forms and see what we can work out? And besides, Sally is going to have a sore throat after all this."
"We are amenable," Three said after a moment's thought. "Would you be kind enough to leave your weapons behind when you emerge? You will find that our atmosphere is breathable by primitive creatures like yourselves. Over and out." Sally staggered and clutched at her neck. "Christ, my throat hurts!" she grated. While Sally gargled with salt water, the rest of the Earthlings dumped their weapons and exited. Three was waiting at the foot of the gangway to greet them.
"Welcome," he said in the familiar deep voice.
"Well I'll be hornswoggled." Chuck gaped for all of them. "These Chachkas look just like foot-long, black cockroaches with little pink hands on their front feet!"
"Yes, and you humans look like great, soft gop-worms that used to live in our swamps and ate by standing on their heads and sucking in mud. Now if we can drop the racial slander, we can get on with the business at hand. While you were making your clumsy way out of your archaic vehicle, I had a conference with the other leaders. Since we can think about a hundred times faster than you primitive forms, you might say we had a day-long rap session and we have reached a conclusion. We have nothing against you, other than you look like gop-worms, that is, but we only hand over Krakar for like a real galaxy-wide emergency. So far you haven't convinced us. What might convince us is a complete knowledge of your antecedents, history, moral turpitude, intelligence, sexual deviations, culture, etc. If we had this we could decide if the present emergency justifies the use of Krakar."
"You're not asking very much," John told him. "We could be here ten years and not supply all the info you need."
"That is where you are wrong, primitive softling. If you permit us, we can make an instant print of all your memories, including your racial memories, and with that we can make a true evaluation in a couple of minutes more. Do you agree?"
"What do we have to do?" Chuck asked suspiciously for all of them.
"Just agree, that's all, since we Chachkas are not only incredibly honest but cannot take anytlling by force, including a memory. If you agree, why then brain-copying rays will instantly lash down, penetrating easily those primitive mind shields, and make a copy of everything you have lurking in the old gray matter. You will feel nothing."
"Well, what do you say, guys?" Jerry asked. The others thought for a moment, then nodded agreement. "Okay, you can do it, Three."
"It's already done. I told you it wouldn't hurt. Now, while the memories are being processed, may I offer you a little refreshment? We have a fine hundred-year-old Napoleon brandy, manufactured instantly from your memories by our reconstitutor machines and indistinguishable from the original Try it."
They managed to work the ancient cork out and poured a golden measure into each snifter, then smacked and gasped and moaned with delight.
"Keep the bottle, I don't drink," Three said with an offhand wave of its tentacle. "Ahh, the results are coming through. My, oh, my, you do have some loathsome material well sublimated in your subconscious minds, but that is neither here nor there. What is interesting is that the Lortonoi might very well be the galaxy-wide menace that Krakar will be needed to destroy, so you boys are in luck."
"Then we get the weapon?" John asked, leaning forward expectantly.
"You do not. Didn't you hear the operative might in that sentence? What we will do is give you an instant communicator that will enable you to contact us instantly from any part of the galaxy. If the situation is so desperate that it looks as if the Lortonoi are going to take over, you have simply to drop us the word, then press your head against the device. We'll make a memory copy to get up to date and decide then."
"Is that your best offer?" Jerry asked.
"Best offer we have made in a little over eight billion years, so consider yourself lucky. The communicator is now resting within your machine. So take it and leave and good riddance. Oh, yes, one thing before you go. Our incredible machinery is powered by a matter destruction generator that generates energy by the total destruction of matter. We will be running out of mass to burn in it in about a couple of hundred years. Just to be sure, we would like to have some extra on hand. If you are interested, we'll trade you a case of the Napoleon brandy for two hundred gallons of your jet fuel That should see us through the next thousand years."
"A deal!" they shouted all together.
"Fine. The brandy is already aboard, and we have removed the fuel Now good-bye, we have had about all of your primitive presences that we can stand."
They waved cheery good-byes and tramped back into the Pleasantville Eagle, passing the bottle happily from hand to hand. A hoarse Sally emerged from the head, and they gave her a double slug to help her throat. Three had not lied, since he was incapable of it, and there on a seat in the front row was a case of the brandy, while in the seat next to it was a golden sphere about the size of a golfball with a single red button on it labeled "press me."
"These roaches sure know a thing or two about microminiaturization," John said, slipping the sphere into his pocket. "Now how do we get out of here?"
"Maximum power, I would say," Chuck said. "We can make it almost back to Haggis in a single jump. In that way the warring thousands around this sphere will have no idea that we were ever inside."
"I'll buy that," John said. "Maximum power, lady and gents, so hold onto your hats." Jerry twisted the dials to their stops, made careful alignment, then pressed the actuator button. This was the biggest jump they had ever made, and they really felt it. As if their guts were made of spaghetti and were being wound up on a big fork.
"Yukh," Sally eructated when they had emerged lightyears away, speaking for them all, then staggered and sat down heavily in a seat.
It took them awhile to recover from the shock of the jump – the Napoleon brandy helped a good deal – and when they finally landed at the Galaxy Ranger base on Planet X, they were feeling better, as well as being half crocked, so Sally brewed some black coffee and they all drank a good deal of this before they emerged and marched grimly to the control room.
"Report!" John said, seating himself at the massive control console and flipping switches quickly. Most of the switches didn't work, since they were still building the place, but he finally got through to the OD.
"Glad you are back, sir," the alien said. "That spy team you sent to track the Lortonoi is back and, boy, do they have a story to tell!"
"All right, don't ruin the punch line, just send the commander in here on the double."
The commander turned out to be Pipa, his green skin now taut and smooth since he was eating better, his familiar grin splitting his wide head from earslit to earslit.
"Hi, Jerry," he croaked. "Long time no see, not since the dustup in the DnDrf mine. Those were the good old days-"
"Look!" John ordered. "Report first, reminisce later if you don't mind. You tracked the fleeing Lortonoi?"
"That we did, sir, like the hound of hell, tracking them as they fled down through the light-years. Their track ended in a star cluster out on the galactic rim, or rather at one star in particular that is called Diesun. This star has a rather unusual planet or satellite or whatever the hell you want to call it. Sorry, chief, but my powers of description fail me. Let me flash a slide on the screen, and then I'll fill in the details. You're not going to believe this, I know we didn't. Could I have the first slide, please?"
A solidograph picture instantly appeared in midair before them, and they gasped in unison.
"I don't believe it," John said. "What kind of funny games you up to, you miserable toad?"
"Please, have patience, I beg! I can get the rest of the crew in, and we'll swear loyalty and truth on bended knee and take a polygraph test, the works. This is what we found out there."
This was a thing like a hula hoop in space. It could have been a discarded hunk of machinery or something like that until you looked at the scale. For that sphere of light floating in its center was a sun. Or rather a 'sun'. This whatchmacallit in space was floating, rotating, around the sun like an immense wheel without spokes.
"I know what they've done," Jerry said, snapping his fingers loudly. "It was in the astronomical literature a couple of years back, a real mad idea. But this proves that no idea is so mad that there isn't someone – or something somewhere just mad enough to try it."
"Would you kindly tell us just what the hell you are talking about?" John snapped.
"Happily. Here is what you do if you have unlimited energy and plenty of time. Say you got a solar system like our own solar system. You've been mining the habitable planets, namely, Earth, for a long time, drilling wells and that kind of thing. So what happens? You know what happens. You start nmning out. The wells run dry, the minerals are all used up, and things begin to look poorly. Of course you can send spaceships to other planets to open mines, but there is a problem in logistics and getting the stuff back and so forth. So what you do, if you are set up for it, and somebody really was if we can believe this slide, you rearrange the whole solar system. You bash all the planets and moons together, which melts them up, and then you extrude this molten gunk through a large orifice until you get a long tube of the stuff, and then you flatten the tube so you have like a long plank or maybe a ribbon in space. After that, all you have to do is join the ends of the ribbon together so they stick and you got a big hoop which rotates around the sun."
"What have you been drinking – or smoking?" John asked suspiciously.
"Come on! You asked for the theory, so I'm giving it to you. I'm not telling you how to do it, just what to do. So, you have this hula hoop floating around the sun, and after a while it cools down so you can land on it and plant trees and bring the people and the animals and such back and you have a real nifty world. You build the thing at the correct distance from the sun so the temperature is just right, and all the time the same since there is no night and day since the thing doesn't rotate but spins instead. You've also arranged so that all the minerals are easily available and can be dug up by strip mining. What resources you have! A planet like Jupiter has maybe a million times as much minerals as poor old Earth. So with plenty of raw materials, sunshine, peace, and prosperity you can throw away the birth control pills and just let the population grow. This hula hoop world will have like a billion times the surface available for population, so it will be a long time before you fill it up. All in all it may sound like a nutty idea, but if you can get it to work, you have a good deal going."
"Or the Lortonoi have a good deal going," John mused, looking at the slide, and a sudden chill passed over them all.
What mischief those monsters could create if they controlled a hoop world like this one! The same black thought, possessed them all at the same time, and an aura of gloom obsessed the room. It was John who finally broke the dark silence, and there was a cheery note to his words.
"Cheer up, guys! It's always darkest before the dawn!"
"Piss off, you pollyannaish sod," Jerry muttered, wishing they had thought to bring the brandy with them.
"I mean it. Aren't we forgetting this?" He took the tiny golden sphere from his shirt pocket and tossed it, glinting, into the air. "Things have to get worse before they can get better. So let us hope that the Lortonoi are really up to some loathsome piece of nastiness out there, something so awful that we can report to the Chachkas and get Krakar to polish them off once and for all. I hate to sound like a warmonger, but the worse things get now, the better they will be in the long run."
Jerry laughed aloud. "You're right, you know. So let's fire up our entire fleet of battle cruisers and space battleships and go out there and see if we can cause some real trouble!"