Galactic Dreams

“That’s what you think!” The Colonel laughed, not unkindly, with a sound like tearing steel. “The best news is that M, you are going to be Captain of this spacegoing superdreadnought, while lucky L is Chief Engineer.”

(Note — The MacPherson engine was first mentioned in the author’s story “Rocket Rangers of the IRT” (Spicy-Weird Stories, 1933. Loyal readers first discovered the Kelly drive in the famous book Hell Hounds of the Coal Sack Cluster (Slimecreeper Press, Ltd., 1931), also published in German as Teufel Nach de Knockwurst Expres. Translated into Italian by Re Umberto, unpublished to date. A media breakthrough was made when the Fitzroy projector first appeared in “Female Space Zombies of Venus” in 1936 in True Story Confessions.)

“Lucky L would be a lot happier if he were Captain instead of king of the stokehold,” Jax muttered, and the other two laughed at what they thought was a joke.

“Everything is completely automated,” the Colonel continued, “so it can be flown by a crew of two. But I must warn you that it has experimental gear aboard so whoever flies her has to volunteer ….”

“I volunteer!” Steel shouted.

“I have to go to the terlet,” Jax said, rising, though he sat again instantly when the ugly blaster leaped from its holster to the Colonel’s hand. “Ha-ha, just a joke. I volunteer, sure.”

“I knew I could count on you lads. The CCC breeds men. Camels too, of course. So here is what you do. At 0304 hours tomorrow you two in the Indefectible will crack ether headed out Cygnus way. In the direction of a certain planet.”

“Let me guess, if I can, that is,” Steel said grimly through tight-clenched teeth. “You don’t mean to give us a crack at the larshnik-loaded world of Biru-2, do you?”

“I do. This is the larshniks’ prime base, the seat of operation of all their drug and gambling traffic, where the whiteslavers offload and the queer green is printed, site of the flnnx distilleries and lair of the pirate hordes.”

“If you want action that sounds like it!” Steel grimaced.

“You are not just whistling through your back teeth,” the Colonel agreed. “If I were younger and had a few less replaceable parts, this is the kind opportunity I would leap at ….”

“You can be Chief Engineer,” Jax hinted.

“Shut up,” the Colonel implied. “Good luck, gentlemen, for the honor of the C.C.C. rides with you.”

“But not the camels?” Steel asked.

“Maybe next time. There are, well, adjustment problems. We have lost four more graduates since we have been sitting here. Maybe we’ll even change animals. Make it the C.D.C.”

“With combat dogs?” Jax asked.

“Either that or donkeys. Or dugongs. But that is my worry, not yours. All that you guys have to do is get out there and crack Biru-2 wide open. I know you can do it.”

If the stern-faced Corpsmen had any doubts, they kept them to themselves, for that is the way of the Corps. They did what had to be done and next morning, at exactly 0304:00 hours, the mighty bulk of the Indefectible hurled itself into space. The roaring MacPherson engines poured quintillions of ergs of energy into the reactor drive until they were safely outside of the gravity field of Earth. Jax labored over the engines, shoveling the radioactive transvestite into the gaping maw of the hungry furnace, until Steel signaled from the bridge that it was changeover time. Then they changed over to the space eating Kelly drive. Steel jammed home the button that activated the drive and the great ship leaped starward at seven times the speed of light. Since the drive was fully automatic, Jax freshened up in the fresher, while his clothes were automatically washed in the washer, then proceeded to the bridge.

(Note — When the inventor, Patsy Kelly, was asked how ships could move at seven times the speed of light when the limiting velocity of matter, according to Einstein, was the speed of light, he responded in his droll Goidelic way, with a shrug, “Well-sure and I guess Einstein was wrong.”)

“Really,” Steel said, his eyebrows climbing up his forehead. “I didn’t know you went in for polkadot jockstraps.”

“It was the only thing I had clean. The washer dissolved the rest of my clothes.”

“Don’t worry about it. It’s the larshniks of Biru-2 who have to worry! We hit atmosphere in exactly seventeen minutes and I have been thinking about what to do when that happens.”

“Well I certainly hope someone has! I haven’t had time to draw a deep breath, much less think!”

“Don’t worry, old pal, we are in this together. The way I figure it we have two choices. We can blast right in, guns roaring, or we can slip in by stealth.”

“Oh, you really have been thinking, haven’t you.”

“I’ll ignore that because you are tired. Strong as we are I think the land-based batteries are stronger. So I suggest that we slip in without being noticed.”

“Isn’t that a little hard when you are flying in a thirty-million-ton spacer?”