Get Cover!

This short story is set in the same universe as 'The Charge of the Laser Brigade'. I'll think of what to name the universe sometime. I know it. However, if you haven't read 'The Charge,' you'll still get pretty much everything in this story.

 

 

 

 

 

 

Warning; Contents of the short story below are exceedingly light-hearted. If you enjoy being depressed, please DO NOT read.

 

 

Planets are nice, as thinks nearly every man who travels in the wilds of space. They're pretty (for the most part), don't tend to get in the way (most of the time) and they really do help break up the monotony of darkness and stars. Of course, sometimes a planet is not something you want to see, such as in the case of Captain Lunge of the famed Jupiter Collision of 2213, who was fleeing from a group of angry tradesmen at a speed faster than light when suddenly up popped Jupiter on the radar. They slammed into it before they could stop. That was in the days before autopilot systems and, of course, brakes.

But now was another case of not wanting to see a planet, and in this case Rusty Bridges, Spaceman First Class of the U.S.E. Spaceforce did not want to see this planet at all.

"Just my luck," he muttered. "Just my luck I'd be sent to investigate a far-away space colony."

"What's the matter now, Rusty?" said the Petty Officer, who sat next to him chewing his finger.

"It always happens this way, you know," he said, giving the officer a sidelong glance. "Earth loses contact with a colony; ship gets sent out to find what the heck happened; ship's contents get attacked by a hive-based sub-culture of ruthless and generally insect-like aliens who attach themselves to individuals faces or in some cases their rear ends and insert an eggsac. They kill the alien and everyone's fine and dandy until in a few weeks the baby alien rips out of the individual's body and grows at a rapid pace, finally destroying everybody."

The petty officer looked at him.

"Did you memorize that?"

"No," Rusty was flat. "Watched a documentary on it."

"Ah, I see. Close Encounters with the Facehugging Kind?"

"Actually it was Alienating."

The petty officer rolled his eyes.

"Well," Rusty said, "you can't deny it; all the symptoms are there. Colony's power shut down mysteriously, no contact, and now we're being sent."

"We're being sent because the III detected leaked Mech plans somewhere near here," the petty officer replied. "But we did lose contact with this colony, a few years ago. We just thought they could do alright on their own."

"Did you say the III sent us here?"

"Yes, the III did. So it must be important."

(In order not to confuse anyone, the III is not, in fact, a Roman Numeral '3'. It stands for the Interstellar Intelligence Investigation Office, but no one includes the 'o' on the end because nobody can say 'IIIO' without feeling rather silly.)

A zip came from behind the space-pilots where they sat on their electric swivel chairs. The men all moved to an about face by leaning to the left--the seats sensed the movement and swiveled immediately.

At the top of the deck stood a most striking figure. Everyone grinned and a few nudged each other. It was Lieutenant 'Cheerio' Warren, defender of the U.S.E., renowned Mech-fighter, and a bloody good hand at Slap Jack.

He was, of course, mostly metal, being a cyborg, but that didn't take away the clearly British smile plastered on his face, the incorrigible metal spats that clung to the soles of his metallic feet--even British can't be robbed of their style--and the thin little mustache that was of course very top-hole for any ol' bean of a British officer. His left eye was an electric ocular lens, it is true, but his right was perfectly good, and, while graced with no monocle, fit with the British air quite well. It was always winking at someone or other, that eye.

Cheerio strode down the stairs to the control board with alacrity only an English cyborg could fully complete. He tapped the petty officer on the shoulder with a metallic hand.

"I say, chap--seen the ol' captain around?"

"Um...no, sir."

"Ah. Any idea where he might be?"

"Haven't the foggiest, sir," the petty officer replied, grinning.

"Haven't the foggiest what?"

"Uh...idea," the petty officer said, puzzled.

"Ah...well, say it then, man! No idea where ol' cap might be?"

"He might be in his quarters, sir," the petty officer replied meekly.

"Thanks, then," Cheerio winked at him and sauntered off.

He stopped in the middle of the floor and perked up his ears; a voice was coming over the ship-wide speakers.

"This is your captain speaking. We are nearing the planet Gygax, and turbulence upon entering is expected. If all military and staff personnel would seat themselves immediately..."

The voice paused, unsure how to end the sentence professionally. Cheerio listened, bemused.

"...I would be...delighted."

Cheerio chuckled to himself, something the British are very good at. He had met the captain and dined with him once or twice during the voyage--the man wasn't a bad sort. But he was rather paranoid. He had set up an alien-censor on the ship to make sure no viruses got in to turn the crew into a bunch of half-witted alien zombies. On top of that, he had a complete biopsy made of every man coming onto the ship for search of alien cooties or something just as ridiculous. Other than that, Cheerio rather approved of him.

The ride into the atmosphere was rather turbulent, but not too. Hooking himself in next to Cheerio was Sergeant Long, who grinned madly all the way down in a way that Cheerio rather admired. Or forced himself to, anyway. The grin plastered on Long's face did get a little unnerving after a while.

***

There was no need to send the launching ships; the little colony had a port, and it did it's job to open the garage and take in the passengers. 

The side door of the large ship opened for Lieutenant Warren and he briskly trotted down the flight stairs and onto the landing deck. And it was then he realized that something was quite wrong with the place.

For one thing, there were no people about. None to greet the visitors, none to gawp at them; there weren't even any to man the controls. 

However, the building was not in disrepair. It looked like it was cleaned every day by stricter-than-human hands. Had the robots been automated to do everything for the humans? 

Cheerio hummed a little tune to himself as he hurried down the stairs, followed by Long and two other sergeants plus a platoon of marines.

"Alright, captain," Cheerio saluted to the watching spacevessel. "We'll go and see if we can find any inhabitants, then! See you in a click, wot."

The captain nodded and Cheerio's platoon moved off. Coming through the doors of the station, the Lieutenant and his cyborgs looked out on the wide Gygaxian plain. There was a tall cylinder rising up in the distance, of silver-chrome-like metal. It could have been a silo or a mining building, but the windows and the sleek shape showed it must be or have been a place of abode.

The platoon headed for it.

"I just knew it," Bridges trembled over his control panel as he watched the marines leave, "this is how it always happens. Standard alien procedure. The main body moves away from the ship and the aliens break in, kill all the people in the ship, and when the main body comes back it's all a trap."

Something moved behind Rusty and he shrieked, spinning around. Then he sighed; it was just the Lunchtoid.

"Peanut-butter-and-jelly-sandwich-sir?" the box-like robot said, offering a perfectly square sandwich to him.

"Uh, thank you," he replied, taking it and munching uneasily.

***

"Hello in there? 'Lo? Anyone within?"

Cheerio was about to give up when he heard an uncertain "huh?" like someone who wasn't used to talking.

"Hello! This is Lieutenant Warren of the U.S.E. Marine Corps. Are you trapped inside?"

The voice didn't answer.

“I said, are you trapped inside?” Cheerio frowned at Long. The sergeant shrugged.

"No," it said after a moment.

Cheerio frowned.

"No? Are you sure?"

"I'm sure,” the voice replied, slightly annoyed.

Cheerio turned to his platoon.

"Men, you'd better spread out and search the grounds. Sergeant Long, stay with me."

The door opened for them and the two strode in. The room was one of the barest Cheerio had ever seen. There was a bed, a temp regulator, and a desk with a large-screen computer on it. The man was sitting at the computer, sipping a beverage and staring at the screen. The ORTCTA was on his finger, and he was moving madly.

Cheerio waited while the man spoke not at all. While he waits, perhaps it would be beneficial to explain the ORTCTA to the common layman. The ORTCTA (or OR for short) stands for 'One Ring To Click Them All', a device which replaced the rigid and rather large mouse for the use of clicking and choosing on any computer. The wearer moves the cursor by moving his hand, and clicks by touching his thumb to his index, which the ring is worn on.

"Hello?" Cheerio said after a few minutes of uncomfortable silence.

"What? Oh. Hi," the young man replied, eyeing them for a half-second and then looking back at the computer.

Cheerio frowned at the young man's disrespect…but more at his utter disregard for anything but the computer screen.

"What's your name, ol' bean?" he asked.

"Um..." the young man looked closely at the screen, meticulously watching some bit of data or other, "...Mannyj056779."

Cheerio blinked.

"What?"

The man gave him a sideways glance and focused back on the computer.

"Mannyj056779. Why are you two off?"

Cheerio looked at Long.

"What do you mean, 'off'?"

"I mean off. As in 'not on'?"

"Not on what?"

"On the Life."

Cheerio was silent, so Long cut in.

"What's 'the Life', if I may ask, Manny?"

"Mannyj056779." Manny still wasn't looking at them. Eventually he half pulled his face away from the screen. "You don't know what the Life is?"

"No. What is it?" Long said, peering at the screen.

Cheerio had already looked at the computer monitor, and he did not believe what he saw. The man was playing a game. A three dimensional field--a medieval-style village or something--was on the screen, and a figure was in the middle of the screen that obeyed every command Manny's OR gave.

"It's this. It's everything. How can you live on Gygax and not know about the Life?"

"It's a role-playing game?" Long asked.

"Um...I guess you could call it that. Everyone's on it--everyone in the world, I thought. It's everything. Every other player on it appears in this world--well, actually there's several worlds--and lives. There's no life other than the Life."

Long and Cheerio looked at each other.

"Did you say, old bean, that everyone plays it?"

"Yes."

"Did you know that there are worlds other than this one?"

"Oh, yes. I've been to nearly everyone. See this snazzy haircut? I got it on--"

"No no no, I mean there's real worlds other than this, chap! Not just on that game."

Manny didn't seem able to fit his mind around that idea. He was silent, and continued playing.

"Is your whole life this game, Mannyj-whatever?" Cheerio said after a bit.

"You don't understand. This is my life. It's everybody's life. What other life is there?"

Both Cheerio and Long's mouths dropped simultaneously. Long stuttered.

"Wh-what other life is there? Son, there's--"

"Could you be quiet for a while? I'm about to go into a space battle, I get a ton of points if I win."

His character was flying through a vortex, popping up in a spaceport. It quickly ran into a spacevessel and was rocketed into space.

Long and Cheerio watched, dismay filling their faces. Manny piloted a space-frigate into battle with ships that looked suspiciously like Battle Arrows, the standard U.S.E. destroyer. Long patted Cheerio on the shoulder after a while of silent space-battle.

"The men are anxious. We should go."

"Very well," Cheerio sighed. "Goodbye, Manny."

Manny didn't even notice them leaving. However, a small lens by the computer did.

***

Anxious officers hovered about the table. Some of their faces were sweaty; some were worried, and some were indifferent. On the table a wide display showed battle-ships engaging quadrants away--Planet Johnson III, to be precise, a planet that was named after the famous discoverer Mort Johnson, who spent all of his life exploring the stars and eventually died of boredom. 

"These Mechs are smart," the captain said quietly. "They're using tactics humans would be hard-pressed to think of. And they play it all--they play it all like it's a game," he said bitterly, turning away. For the Mechs, this war was as close to a game as a machine could get. They weren't risking their lives. They were just...playing.

The battle was over; the U.S.E.'s battle fleet had suffered badly, and another world had been lost to the Mechs. The captain was quietly returning to his post when Cheerio stepped into the hall, a grim expression on his face.

"Captain."

"Lieutenant! Back so soon?"

"Yes, sir, we've found out all we need to know."

"Ah, wonderful. No aliens I suppose?" he joked. Then he added, "Your men are getting checked right now, aren't they?"

"Yes," Cheerio replied.

"Well! What did in the colonists? A disease, perhaps?" he chuckled. "Um...not a disease right? Your men are getting checked, correct?"

"As I said before, yes," Cheerio answered, just a tad peeved. "The colonists did not die. They're all still here."

"What? Well, what are they doing to make them not answer communications?"

"To be exact, playing."

"Playing? Playing what?"

"A game."

The captain looked at him closely.

"Are you sure there wasn't a disease out there? A brain disease, perhaps?"

"I assure you, captain, I am nowhere near insane. However, I am not so sure about the inhabitants of Gygax."

"You're serious."

"I am."

"A game? They're all playing a game?"

"Yes. The game is one of those massive multiplayer ones; everyone on the planet is going about several virtual worlds, and what's the worst is they think it's everything. They don't know anything else, captain."

"Well, then...I suppose we had better ween them off it."

"I hardly think we can, sah. I propose we just leave them to their lives, sah, for that is all they know and all they will accept."

The captain looked down at his shoes.

"Very well, Lieutenant. We leave immediately?"

"As soon as you wish, captain."

"Very well. Ah, by the way...I have some rather bad news."

"What?"

"Our spacefleet at Planet Johnson III was defeated."

Cheerio turned. Something went 'click' in that half-robotic mind of his.

"Planet...Johnson?"

"Yes. Amazing really. They used some quite experimental tactics. Like kids playing a game," the captain sighed.

"Playing a game... playing a game! Holy--captain, I need control of your scanners. Immediately."

"But aren't we going to leave?"

"Not while the Mechs are using the Gygaxians as pilots for their vessels! The scanners, cap!"

The captain's mouth opened and closed several times as Cheerio's words flew over him.

"Of--of course! You may use them!"

"Awfully grateful, sah. Ta-ta!"

Cheerio charged down the corridor, leaving the captain stuttering and looking about for alien life-forms.

***

"The center of this activity is...right there, sir. About two miles away."

"Ah! Good, it's closer than I thought, wot? Thank you, Spaceman Bridge."

"Bridges, sir. Your welcome." Rusty replied, grinning with relieved cheerfulness.

Cheerio stood up and looked at his platoon. Sergeant Long grinned that slightly disturbing grin at him again, but it was coupled with more than a little nervousness, now. The rest of the marines were hefting their lasers and checking their helmets and goggles.

"Right, then. Let's move out, wot?"

Out they moved.

The scape of Gygax's colony was neither conglomerated nor large. Buildings were placed, seemingly helter-skelter across the surface. In many places were the tall cylindrical homes where Cheerio knew that more players resided, gaming their lives away.

"Sir," said Long, scurrying up to Cheerio, "There's some advanced Mech movement in this area."

"As is to be expected, ol' boy," Cheerio replied.

"Do you mean that the Gygaxians are living within kilometers of Mechs and not knowing it?"

"That's what I mean."

Long shook his head. Cheerio sympathized with him; it was a hard thing to grasp, having lived whole lightyears away from the closest Mechtoid world.

"Scanners say we're very close to the database, sir," said Corporal Sandwich, the official 'techy' with the scanner and all. His helmet had antennae sticking out of it in a myriad of directions.

Cheerio nodded.

"Not to alarm you chaps, but the Mechs are probably watching us right now."

That alarmed everyone, as Cheerio thought reluctantly. And then, the database appeared. It was a tall, domed building with absolutely no windows and apparently no doors. It was just...a dome.

"Is that it, Corporal?"

"Yessir," Sandwich replied.

The fact that at that point one of the marines ran away screaming didn't help the rest morale-wise. Cheerio ignored the man and crouched down. The dome was in one of the many jagged valleys that scarred and criss-crossed the planet (many of them also spouted hot lava, a fine sight to see--from a distance).

Cheerio scurried down the valley-side first, the men following. An ominous 'clicka-clicka-clicka' sounded from all the lasers as they set their range. And slowly the platoon moved across the valley-floor, keeping to rocks and boulders and any cover that was suitable for a cyborg to hide behind.

Nothing happened. Nothing came from the dome; and perhaps this scared the soldiers even more. Once the action started, at least it had begun; even if fifty soldiers were killed when it started, there wasn't that madly nervous anticipation afterwards.

(At times like this, one is tempted to call the nervous fear 'nail-chewing,' as in when many are nervous they chew their nails; however, these cyborgs had been heartily cured of that habit, thanks to their metal fingers. When they did do this, from old habit, they usually lost a tooth or two.)

At ten feet from the dome, Cheerio hefted his laser and seared a round hole in the dome's wall. It was lava-hot, but he pushed it out of the way with his metal arm and the soldiers poured in through the gap. Sergeant Long insisted on going first, with Corporal Sandwich and half the men, then Cheerio shoved his way into the line and got in. And I am afraid to say that most of the cyborgs freely gave him that space in the line--none were anxious to enter.

Cheerio looked around the inside of the dome; and as he said later, it reminded him of a bee field, where hundreds of boxy hives were laid in neat rows, just waiting for the workers to come and harvest their honey. There were completely straight lines of chrome boxes, with a few tiny flashing lights on each one, all thrumming like the dome was filled with hundreds of eBees.

But all the sound was not humming, for every single of the boxes had a tube connected to it, and those tubes went up to the top of the dome, where a metal ball hung suspended in the air. Out of the ball a flow of electric energy erratically shot into seemingly random boxes.

All the cyber-soldiers stared up at the ball, each wondering what power it was transferring into those boxes. It could not have been electrical, for the stream was not flowing.

"Uh oh," said Corporal Sandwich, his antennae buzzing like he was a giant bee, "Whatever that thing is, it just knocked out my scanning and comm system."

And then Cheerio saw them.

"Get your lasers read, chaps," he said. "We aren't alone."

***

"Spaceman Bridges," the captain said.

Bridges swiveled about in his chair, thinking "Wheeee..."

"Yes sir?"

"Send a message to Lieutenant Warren. Tell him we've spotted a Mech warvessel on the opposite side of the planet. He needs to hurry before we're discovered."

"Yes sir," Rusty replied. He pressed a button on the communication array and spoke into it. "Lieutenant? Come in, Lieutenant."

He looked up to the captain, trembling.

"He's not..." he gulped. "Answering, sir."

"Try again.

"Y-yes, sir. L-lieutenant? C-c-come in, lieutenant."

He was chewing his fingernails now.

"Nothing, sir."

"Blast! Those Mechs must've jammed the comm array...though how they did that at such close range I don't have the least idea. Petty Officer!"

"Sir?"

"Take Spaceman Franks and Spaceman Bridges and deliver that message to the Lieutenant. You can take the hoverspeeder."

"Yessir." The petty officer beckoned to the two spacemen and walked out.

"We're gonna get killed by aliens...oh..." Rusty was muttering.

"Take your lasers!" the captain called after them.

***

“Surrender! You are surrounded.”

Mechtoid soldiers materialized from nowhere around the rim of the dome. The commander who was speaking was in the middle of the room; how they had missed him before Cheerio would never know.

"Seems we are," Cheerio replied. He looked up again at the sphere high above, wondering if he could blast it out of the air before a laser hit him.

The Mechtoid may not have been very perceptive; perhaps this was just what he was going to say. But if he couldn't tell what Cheerio was thinking, then he made a perfect guess.

“Do not destroy the Virus. If you try, we will terminate you and your troop."

Cheerio sighed and lowered his laser. The rest of the men did the same.

"What is that?" Cheerio asked as the Mechtoid commander came forward.

“It is the Virus. The Inculta Virulentus is the proper name."

"A computer virus?"

"Partly. And also a Pathogenic Virus."

"What?"

“It is a hybrid. It binds the humans to their computers. It makes them addicted to the game—it infects their computers, and through their computers, them. Now it is running to make sure that none recover from it.”

“Why, you bloody…“ Cheerio fumed. He could see himself blasting the Mechtoid commander and the sphere above them.

“You are now prisoners. Come this way.”

The Mechtoid turned and looked up.  There was an explosion that rocked the roof of the huge dome and sent the ball crashing down on the Mechtoid. Through the ceiling the hoverspeeder flew, Bridges on the back with a large projectile launcher.

“Right, chaps,” Cheerio said. “Take cover! Keep behind the databoxes—they won’t blast those in a hurry!”

The Mechtoids flew into the air, fire spouting from their feet. They charged straight at the quarter where Cheerio and his men were taking cover. This was a wrong move, for as everyone knows—except a Mechtoid, apparently—there is nothing to hide behind in the air.

 “There’s too many of the flies!” Long nudged Cheerio from behind his cover. The hoverspeeder landed next to them.

“Spaceman Bridge! Is there enough room on that thing for all of my men?”

Long fell to a Mechtoid laser.

“Now there is,” Rusty said, making a gesture.

“All…right, then. Out the top, wot?”

“But what about the databoxes?”

“We’ve destroyed the Virus now, lad. We’ll crush the comm. array so they won’t be able to take information, and then we’ll get out of here.”

***

“Ah! Good to see you all safe and sound, Lieutenant,” the captain said as the Lieutenant and his men rushed in.

“I’m safe and sound, sah, but not all of my men are. Can we rush these to the Medical Ward?”

“Of course, of course, once they finish their anti-alien-virus-checkup and all, we can—“

“Captain! These men are dying, sah! You’ll have to go without the formalities this time.”

“But…”

“Captain, with all due respect, you’re more afraid of alien disease outbreaks than I am of my mother, sah. You’ve got to get over it.”

The captain straightened up. “Right, Warren. Send them to the med ward.”

Cheerio blinked, pleasantly surprised.

“Thank you, captain, sah.”

“You’re, er…welcome. But, um, do check when they’re done, eh? Just…just to make sure.”

Across the deck of the ship, Rusty looked dazed with happiness.

“I…I went outside the ship…and I didn’t die…”

Cheerio looked at the radar as they blasted off the planet. He took in a breath and smiled that British smile of his. The battle was over, and everything was alright.

“I wonder what the Gygaxians are going to do. Their lives have been completely centered around the Life for all of their existences. What’ll they do when it’s gone?”

“Don’t know, sir,” said Long. “Just glad that’s not us.”

“Me too, Sergeant.”

***

“Hi, dude. Howz ur account?”

“Going gd. Jst got t he Dragonspike Emerald. Were u?”

“Wrld 5. Pits of Morod V.”

“Niiiiice. Dude, like half the ppl are gone today. Wats up w/ that?”

“Dunno. Mebbe ther was a shut down or something. Can’t imagine nt being on for a whole day.”

“Yeah, I guess I can’t either, but...”

“But wat?”

“Fr some reason…I kind of don’t want to anymore.”

 

 

Author's Note

This story was mostly inspired--well, would I call it inspired? No, it was more of a response to our generation of hopelessly professional gamers. If we continue down this road, someday I think we'll be just like the citizens of Gygax--people who have no life but their games.

Reviews

[moon manmad]

this story was very funny, and very well told. also with a touch of social commentary, which I respect, though I have to wonder if it isn't a bit too far-fetched. I mean, really, people playing games on computers?

[Céce]

lol! I like this story. Still not as much as Werkins, but I like it a lot. What I enjoy most about your writing, Scotty, is the fact that as well as the overall story being funny, you add the most hilarious little comments that the characters make.

I agree with your friend, (now The Titan) that at some parts it was a little confusing. But then again, that may be because I was looking at a computer screen a little sideways (my head ain't put on straight).

Other than that, rock on, Scotty!

Keep the humor comin'!

Jane

[Gregory Hill]

Haha I liked it. btw It was a bit confusing who you were talking about when it switched from Cheerio to Lt. Warren. maybe you should change it?

[Shanna (Renae)]

Very clever, you have a wonderful imagination! It makes it's point very well.

"The ride into the atmosphere was rather turbulent, but not too." It seems kind of like an uncompleted sentence. Maybe you could say "The ride into the atmosphere was rather turbulent, but not unusually so."

The other thing that was a bit confusing was the way you switched between calling the Lietenant "Cheerio" and "Lt. Warren." Using only one name for him would make more sense.

I really like Cheerio's english dialect, it's perfect.

[Rick Puetter]

Dear Scott,

An excellent piece and captivating read. I like your style a lot. Summary: (1) Excellent writing, (2) Captivating story. Very High Marks!

Now a few technical comments from the scientist in me.

(1) In the opening paragraph there are some inconsistencies. You say, for example, that the space craft was traveling along faster than light "when suddenly up popped Jupiter on the radar". You then increase the problem by commenting: "Those were in the days before autopilot systems and, of course, faster-than-light radar". So you made it impossible for Jupiter to pop-up on the radar. This should be fixed.

(2) A less serious technical error occurs later when you say "Manny didn't even notice them leaving. However, a small lens by the computer did." Now lenses can't see. Only cameras can see. Your meaning is clear, but you might as well get it right technically.

Aside from that, I noticed only one typo. So this is a very polished piece. Kudos and congratulations.

Very best regards,

Rick

[Flame DM]

Very entertaining piece! Especially the ending, that was my favorite part =] great write.

Flame