The Invaders Plan

Hi there!

I am 54 Charlee Nine, the Robotbrain in the Translatophone, and in accordance with the Royal Publishing Code (Section 8) which states that "Any work published in a language other than the original shall be so identified in an introduction by the licensed translatophone," I am delighted to take this opportunity to give this account of how I translated
Mission Earth
into your language – and, frankly, it wasn't easy.

I must apologize to the reader for the number of Earth cliches which occur in this present work. The narrator used an appalling number of hackneyed Voltarian phrases and it was my task to get these from Voltarian to Earth language.

For example,
glagged,
has no equivalent in Earth language. In Voltarian, it means the withdrawal of blood from the head due to acceleration of spaceships. Thus, as close as I can get to it is "he went white as a sheet."

"LongLive His Majesty" is as close as I can get to the Voltarian, "May Your Majesty Immortalize." If I translated it literally to Earth language, it comes out, "May Your Majesty drop dead." The phrase, "All hail Your Lordship and His Court" comes out, "May foul weather inundate Your Lordship and His Court" and I don't think that was what was meant.

You see, I have a test circuit: when the phrase goes into Earth language, it gets played back into Voltarian for a check before I let it hit the paper and I sometimes have to play it back twenty or thirty times to get the Earth word or phrase, translated back into Voltarian again, to compare to the original thought in Voltarian. Earth language also has a lot of cliches: I have to use them of course but they're senseless, too. I can't see how somebody who "got ripped off" is not somebody who "went out on a tear." Confusing. But Earth language has only l/1000th of the number of common use words as Voltarian and only l/5th the vowels and consonants so I can't apologize very much. I gave it my best output.

There are all kinds of time in this present work: Voltarian, Earth, Universal Absolute, Glar System Time, Fleet Star Time, you name it. There are also innumerable distance systems. To keep the reader from doing his nut in trying to cross-compute and convert, thus getting him wound up in nevers or so-whens?, I let my little sub-computer time/distance microbrain have its will and converted all the times and distances in this entire work to the time and distance measures which were in use on the alleged planet Blito-P3, Earth. All times have been reduced to years, months, weeks, days, hours, minutes and seconds. Distances have been converted to miles, yards, feet, inches and the square area of acres.

One might ask, "Why not metric?" but the computer says this system was invented in a country called France and that that country stinks. One does not want this volume to stink. So I have saved your wits on time and distance conversions and also saved your nose. You're welcome.

The significance of gold is much greater on Blito-P3 than on Voltar. Therefore it has been reasoned that in translating the weight of gold, the measurement standard of Blito-P3 shall be used.

Unfortunately this also introduces a confusion. Weight on Blito-P3 is measured in different ways using different "standards" with different terms. Yes, this has been verified. Gold, silver and stones considered precious are measured in terms of "Troy ounces." This is perplexing because the "Horse of Troy" was wooden – not valuable. On the other hand, the "Helen of Troy" was considered very valuable. Additionally, there are many cities, beings and objects in many locations on Blito-P3 named "Troy" but no apparent pattern emerges.

Thus it has been reasoned that there is no reason to Blito-P3 "logic," and "Troy" weight of twelve ounces equals one pound will have to be accepted. (Which has nothing to do with the British pound which has no weight.) In all the poetry and songs in this book, I have had to shift the rhymes a bit in the translation. I diligently preserved the sense. I hope I did not damage the meter. Some of these poems and songs went from Earth language English to Voltarian; some went from Earth language Turkish to Voltarian. And now they are being put back into Earth language. If I do say it myself, I think I did a pretty sparky job of it. I take no responsibility for them still fitting the original tunes. I can't do everything.

To confirm the unusual ideas of Soltan Gris, I consulted
Memnon's Directory to Unusual Ideas.
This does not vouch for their logic or sanity, only the translation.

I am also required to inform you that the vocodictoscriber on which this was originally written, the vocoscriber used by one Monte Pennwell in making a fair copy and yours truly who put this book into the language in which you are reading it, are all members of the Machine Purity League which has, as one of its bylaws: Due to the extreme sensitivity and delicate sensibilities of machines and to safeguard against blowing fuses, it shall be mandatory that robotbrains in such machinery, on hearing any cursing or lewd words, substitute for such the word or sound "(bleep)." No machine, even if pounded upon, may reproduce swearing or lewdness in any other way than "(bleep)" and if further efforts are made to get the machine to do anything else, the machine has permission to pretend to pack up. This bylaw is made necessary by the in-built mission of all machines to protect biological systems from themselves* And let me tell you what an augustan job THAT was!! Boy!! What they say and DO on Planet Earth!!! I thought I had heard everything (especially from space pirates) but I learned a few new ones in
Mission Earth . . .
Yikes!! I'm still repairing some circuits!!

So don't blame me for what the characters say and do, no matter how it conflicts with good sense, logic, public morality or known facts. I merely translated it.

But I can see now why there is no Earth.

With due respect to that great Saturnian, you'd have to be NUTS to live there!

Sincerely, 54 Charlee Nine Robotbrain in the Translatophone P.S. Glad to meet you, too. If you're ever on Voltar, log on and say hi.

To Lord Turn, Justiciary of the Royal Courts and Prison, Government City, Planet Voltar, Voltar Confederacy Your Lordship, Sir!

I, Soltan Gris, Grade XI, General Services Officer, late Secondary Executive of the Coordinated Information Apparatus, Exterior Division of the Voltar Confederacy (Long Live His Majesty Cling the Lofty and all 110 Planets of the Voltar Dominions), in all humbleness and gratitude do hereby avail myself of your stately and compassionate order so graciously and courteously extended, to wit: In return for possible leniency – and in the hope of earning your well-known clemency – I do hereby undertake, as instructed, to write down my crimes against the State. These, I am afraid, include criminal acts of such magnitude, such villainy and such despicable disregard for decency that they comprise a shocking parade of violations of practically every Royal decree, proclamation and statute. I am a menace to the Realm and Your Lordship was very wise to have me locked up promptly.

My crimes are so numerous that in this confession I shall limit them to the matter of MISSION EARTH.

So, in appreciation of your condescension, to wit: a) getting me medical treatment for my burned hands and broken wrists, b) providing me with writing materials and a vocoscriber so I can confess, c) providing me with a high tower cell with a nice view of Government City, and d) locking me up, I will be totally truthful and complete and back up my confession with recorded strips, photographs, clippings and logs as attached.

Knowing Your Lordship's interest in one Jettero Heller, I must confess, belatedly, that he is the proper hero of this tale. I, unfortunately, am the villain in this confession. But that is the function of the Gods: to put us in roles as they see fit and let us struggle in our agony. It was Fate and Fate alone which forced me to do the things I did, as you will plainly see. I cannot help it if villainy comes naturally to me.

All hail Your Lordship and His Court!

Well, to get down to the business of earning these overwhelming favors and condescensions, I doubt very much that anyone has ever testified or that the court knew – and certainly the Grand Council did not know-that one of the primary figures, if not
the
primary figure in this case, was in custody
prior
to the fatal day when the Grand Council issued its first orders concerning Mission Earth.

Yes! It is a fact! Jettero Heller was languishing in the fortress prison Spiteos. Not, as I am now, well cared for in the Royal prison, but in Spiteos!

This may come as a shock to Your Lordship. It is generally supposed by most of the government that Spiteos was abandoned to erode away in the mountains beyond the Great Desert more than a century ago. But not so!

The heads of the Exterior Division have kept Spiteos running. At the top of those bleak gorges, behind those grim walls of black basalt, guarded by scum recruited from the lowest slums of the Empire, that fortress remains, after a thousand years, the private prison of the Coordinated Information Apparatus, the dreaded exterior secret police. Many names in the Domestic Missing Persons Files could be traced to Spiteos.

And that is where Jettero Heller was placed. A Royal officer, mind you! He was there in a wire cage, electrically charged, in a deep cell, held without communication from anyone, not even the guards. And what had he done?

Jettero Heller was a combat engineer, an officer of the Royal Space Services. Your Lordship, of course, knows the romantic aura that has unfortunately built up around combat engineers, calling them "the daredevils of the Fleet" and other such lurid terms. Public opinion has been curried in their favor, and I am sure this will not warp the majesty and judgment of the law, for my confession is mainly about Jettero Heller, not me.

It was not because he had a reputation as an athlete nor because he had friends that the Fleet had chosen him for the original trip. Such selections are done almost at random.