Bill 3 - on the Planet of Bottled Brains (29 page)

There was silence in the courtroom as the judge read the slip of paper.

The judge pursed his lips. He cleared his throat. He stood up, glaring at Bill.

“It seems we have some extenuating circumstances,” he said. The courtroom waited.

“Report to your base commander,” he said to Bill. “This is a circumstance I had no knowledge of. The jury, however, seems to have figured it out beforehand.”

His expression said that he did not like this, and would probably do something drastic about it.

“Case dismissed!” he cried. And the MPs gathered around Bill to take him back to base.

The military base looked the same as Bill remembered it. A group of one- and two-story buildings in the middle of a swamp. The MPs brought Bill directly to Headquarters Building. Here they removed his handcuffs, wished him luck, and departed.

Bill sat on a bench in the waiting room of General Vossbarger, recently appointed supreme commander of Sector South. It didn't take long before the clerk at the reception desk signaled Bill and told him he could go in.

The General had a nicely appointed office. Wall-to-wall carpeting, Danish furniture, bad paintings on flocked purple cloth, a whiskey decanter, the usual stuff. He was a big man who seemed larger because of the rolls of fat around his neck and nose. What hair he had left was blond, thus lending credence to the rumors of the Blond Beast that had preceded his posting.

“Take a seat, Bill,” Vossbarger said. “Cigar? Care for a drink?”

Bill considered turning them down; after all, they might be poisoned. On the other hand, it might be a military offense to turn down cigars and drinks when offered by a General. He was in a perplexity which was resolved when Vossbarger poured him a drink and put a cigar beside it.

“Go ahead, trooper, drink up. Take a puff. There's good leaf in that cigar, unlike the junk you enlisted men get in your PX or canteen or whatever the hell you call it. So you're Bill. Well, now, I've heard a lot about you. I'm mighty pleased that trial turned out in your favor. In fact, it's a very good bit of luck for us. We couldn't use you if you were dead, could we?”

Bill realized that was what lay behind the robot jury's unexpected acquittal. There was a reason, of course. In the military there's always, no matter how cynical, twisted or warped, a reason.

“I'm very pleased, sir,” he said cautiously, wondering what was coming next.

“Now, Bill, about the Disruptor you were ordered to bring back —”

“I'm sorry about that, sir,” Bill cringed. “I practically had it, but then a lot of stuff came up —”

“Never mind that. We think we know where we can get one.”

“That's good news, sir!” Bill said.

“Yes, isn't it. And the cost won't be too high, either.”

“Better and better!” Bill said thickly as his suspicions began to grow.

“Unfortunately, there's one hitch.”

Bill nodded. Somehow he wasn't surprised that there was a hitch. What interested him was how the hitch involved him.

“The Tsurisians,” Vossbarger said, “have indicated their willingness to provide us with what we need. But there is one stipulation.”

Bill groaned. Not only was there a hitch, there was also a stipulation. This was getting worse and worse. He puffed the cigar furiously and drained his glass as he waited for the news none of which would be good. Vossbarger nodded understandingly and refilled Bill's glass.

“Well, Bill, they want us to send an emissary there to be trained in the use of the Disruptor. As you can understand, an advanced tool like that requires careful study.”

“Yeah, sure,” Bill said.

“You'd have to volunteer for this mission, of course,” Vossbarger said.

“Now wait, no, impossible!” Bill cried aloud. “I'm all finished with all that volunteering bowb.”

“Too bad,” Vossbarger said. “There was some talk of reinstituting the charges against you. This time you wouldn't be up against anything as easy as a robot jury. One jury would decide the entire issue. Me.”

“Ah,” said Bill.

“However, that will not be necessary. There is no time to waste on that kind of rigmarole. I am ordering you to volunteer.” He took a large gun from the desk drawer and pointed it between Bill's eyes. “Are you disobeying my order?”

“Excuse me, sir. You wouldn't like to tell me about this mission I'm volunteering for?”

“That's what I like to hear,” Vossbarger said, smiling like a vulture over an elephant's corpse. The gun vanished. “Go ahead. You have fifty-five seconds to ask all the questions you like.”

“Why me?”

“Good question. Well, there's the fact that you've already had some experience on the planet Tsuris. That weighed in our consideration.”

“Yes, sir.”

“But most important is the fact that the Quintiform computer, which, as you know, governs Tsuris, specifically asked for you.”

“It did?”

“Yes, it did. It was really quite insistent about it. Said something about unfinished business between you two. Since we want that Disruptor, we saw no reason to turn the computer down. Especially since the woman added her demands as well.”

“Woman? What woman?”

“I believe she said her name is Illyria. She's become the new president of Tsuris.”

“How did she manage that?” Bill asked.

“We don't have all the details yet. Something to do with her new body.”

“She's always getting new bodies,” Bill sighed, feeling the trap jaws closing. “You wouldn't happen to know what does this one look like?”

“I haven't seen her myself,” Vossbarger said. “But she requests that you be informed that her new body will be quite a surprise for you.”

“I've had enough surprises.”

“And she also informs us that she has your old body ready for you to occupy.”

“But I've got a body!” Bill cried.

“It will have to be returned to the computer,” Vossbarger said. “It was only a loaner.”

“But what sort of body has Illyria taken now?”

“She did say that it's quite small. So as to fit inside the computer.”

“I don't want to live inside the computer!” Bill moaned.

“Try it, you'll like it. Otherwise...” the gun quickly appeared again.

“Aye aye, sir,” Bill sobbed.

He thought about it later, drinking in the enlisted men's canteen. No sooner had he gotten back to the dear old military than he was being shipped out again. Back to Illyria and the Quintiform computer. After a few drinks, it all started to feel better. The Quintiform computer wasn't a bad sort of machine. And as for Illyria...

Yes, on second thought, Quintiform was decent enough he conned himself into thinking. He'd like to see his friend inside the computer again. And as for Illyria, it would be nice to see her again, too. When you're in the military, you take what comes up. And he could take it!

Then why were tears running down his nose and dripping into his drink?

When Bill reached the planet Tsuris, the preliminaries were few and far between. There was the usual array of Tsurisians present, in their familiar three-sphere form. The doctors who had treated him during his earlier stay on the planet were all there. They waved pleasantly as Bill's little space launch landed. He was led inside with shouting and cheers, and taken to the special chamber beneath Tsuris castle where the computer had set up headquarters.

“Hello, Bill,” the Quintiform computer said. “Good to see you again.”

“Hi,” Bill said suspiciously. “You don't sound sore at me.”

“Of course not, Bill. You and I have always gotten along well.”

“Why did you send for me?”

“Well, that's a story in itself,” the Quintiform computer said.

“Tell me it; I got time,” Bill said.

“In fact, it was the request of my wife. She desired that you be returned to Tsuris for her wedding present.”

“Your wife? Since when do computers have wives?”

“It is unusual,” the Quintiform computer mused. “But you don't know my wife. She is a determined woman.”

“Is it any machine I may have met?”

“It's not a machine at all. It's Illyria.”

“Illyria?” gurgled Bill.

“Did somebody call me?” a feminine voice asked. Although Bill had never heard it before, he knew at once it was Illyria. You just can't be wrong about a thing like that.

Then Illyria answered. Bill had never seen the body she was wearing. It was gorgeous, especially if you like them a little plump, as Bill did.

“I still don't get it,” Bill said.

Illyria turned to the computer screen. “Quintiform?”

“Yes, my love.”

“Don't listen until I tell you to again.”

“Yes, my precious. Anyway, it's time I checked to see how things are going on the planet.” It began humming to itself. The hum diminished as though the computer was going away, which, in fact, it might well have been, and then it died away altogether except for a faint aftertone which also diminished and died.

“Illyria, how could you have married the computer?”

“It was the only way I could get you here, beloved. I told the computer he would have to bring you back.”

“Now that you're married,” Bill said, “I don't see what you want me around for.”

“Bill, the computer is a dear, and he's very interested in human emotions. But with him it's all talk. You know what I mean?”

“It figures, I guess,” Bill said. “But I'm still a trooper, you know. I've got some leave for this job, but...”

“If time is limited we must make every second count,” she susurrated as she reached for him. “Let's start this way...”

Bill's last thought, as the warmth of her embrace enveloped him, was that he had been ordered to do this.

War sure is hell.