There Won't Be War

“Well,” Gatt said, “we may as well hear this creature’s problems in comfort. This cave is decidedly chilly, and I don’t believe we brought along any refreshment.” He turned to the alien, and, speaking through his Telegrapher, said, “How about coming aboard my ship and we’ll talk it over? I presume you breathe oxygen and drink liquids and all that.”

“I have long missed your excellent intoxicants,” Hurtevert said. “Yes, lead the way, my leader.”

“This is starting out well,” Gatt remarked to Vargas as they started back to the ship.

When he was comfortable, with a glass of Irish whiskey in his hand, and a Slim Jim to munch on, Hurtevert said, “Long have we of Planet Magellenic lived as free entities. But now our planet has been conquered by a cruel foe whose customs are not ours,”

“Somebody took over your planet, did they?” Gatt remarked. “Tell us about it.”

Hurtevert struck an orator’s pose and declaimed, “Dank they were and glaucous-eyed, the ugly and bad-smelling Greems who attacked us from a far star-system. They came down in spider-shaped ships, and red ruin followed in their wake. Not content with murder, rapine, and pillage, they humiliated us by making us worship a giant ragwort.”

“That’s really low,” Vargas said.

“All in all it’s intolerable. We’d much rather you Earthians took us over.”

Hurtevert made an odd smacking sound. Gatt turned to Vargas. “What was that?”

“It sounded to me like a wet kiss,” Vargas said.

“That’s disgusting,” Vargas said, “but it shows a good spirit. Want us to take over your planet, huh?”

“Yes,” the alien sang, “we want to be ruled by you, nobody else will do, bo bo padoo. Do you like it? It is a song we sing to keep up our courage in the dark times ahead. You must rescue us. Let me show you pictures of the Greems.”

The pictures, made by a process similar to Polaroid, showed creatures who seemed to be a cross between a spider, a crab, and a wolverine.

“Hell,” Gatt said, “anyone would want to be rescued from something like that. Tough fighters, are they?”

“Not at all,” Hurtevert assured him. “I can assure you that with your brave fighting men and superior weaponry, you will have no trouble defeating them and taking over my planet. It will be easy, for you see, the enemy has withdrawn all of their forces except a local garrison. Once you take them over, the place is yours. And you will find Magellenic is a very good planet, filled with good-looking women who admire military Earthmen, to say nothing of gold and precious things. This, gentlemen, is a planet worth having.”

Gatt said, “Sounds pretty good, huh Vargas?”

“And we would like to formally invest you, General Gatt, with the hereditary kingship of our planet.”

“Do you hear that?” Gatt said to Vargas. “They want to make me king! But forget about the kingship thing. What’s really important is the fact that we can take over this whole planet for the profit of Earth. And it’ll be one of the easiest wars on record. And what better way of meeting new peoples than by conquering them, eh?”

“You know something?” Vargas said. “You’ve really got something there.”

To the alien, Gatt said, “OK, son, you’ve got a deal.”

“That is wonderful,” the alien said.

Just then a small dot of light appeared in a corner of the room. It grew, and then it expanded.

“Well, rats,” said Hurtevert. “Just what I needed.”

“What is it?”

“It’s the Galactic Effectuator.”

“Who’s that?” Gatt asked.

“One of the busybodies from Galactic Central come to tell us how to run our lives.”

“You didn’t mention anything about Galactic Central.”

“I can’t tell you the entire history of the galaxy in an hour, can I? Galactic Central is a group of very ancient civilizations at the core of this galaxy, just as the name implies. The Centerians, as they are called, try to maintain the status quo throughout the galaxy. They want to keep things as they used to be. If they had their way, they’d go back to the Golden Age before the Big Bang, when things were really quiet.”

“They wouldn’t let us help you take back your planet?”

Hurtevert shook his head. “The Galactic Arbitrators never OK any change. If they see what you’re up to, they’ll nix it”

“Are they powerful enough to do that?”

“Baby, you’d better believe it,” Hurtevert said.

“So the war’s off.”

“Not necessarily.” Hurtevert took an object from the pouch attached to his waist and opened it. It was a long pole wound with fine wire. He handed it to Vargas.

“Wave that at him before he has a chance to deliver his message. He’ll go away and report to his superiors. Galactic Center will figure there was a mistake, since no one would dare zap a Galactic Effectuator. They will send another Effectuator.”

“So they do send another Effectuator. Am I supposed to zap that one, too?”

“No. You’re allowed only one mistake by Galactic Center. After that, they crush you.”

“How does zapping the first one help us?”