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Subject: Gold Diggers (NND)
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_/_/_/_/_/_/_/_/_/_/_/_/_/_/_/
Andrew Roller Presents
GOLD DIGGERS
_/_/_/_/_/_/_/_/_/_/_/_/_/_/_/
Chapter One
Amber seemed engrossed in a small, palm-sized magazine. It had
a glossy cover. It read, “Amazing Tales of Galactic Wonder.” A
rocketship streaked across a blazing, starlit sky. Somewhere in the far
lower right corner a blue-green planet glimmered. She read on her
belly. Her small, sexy bare bottom stuck up, divided into two plump
creamy cheeks. Her legs were bent at the knees. Her feet sailed above
her bottom in gliding circles. She was twiddling her toes.
“Who’re those shits?” Amber said aloud. Jim looked up. But
the girl was only reading from the text. He looked at her bottom. He
grinned. She was a sweet girl. And quite smackable.
“Amber, don’t swear,” Jim said in a loud, fatherly voice. It was bad
enough, all he’d gotten her into. He didn’t need to be downgrading her
language as well.
Amber looked over her shoulder at him. It was small, bare. Like her
bottom. Her face was elfin. She had big eyes. She looked at him.
Then she stuck out her tongue.
“And who’s that big shit?” Amber asked, gazing at Jim. She giggled.
Then she looked back at her magazine.
“Who’re those shits?” Amber said. She traced her finger across
the text. Then she read on, but silently.
“Who’re those shits?” Delta asked.
“The planet is called ‘earth’,” the Mindserve answered.
“Thanks, Cock,” Delta said. It always amused him to call him
‘Cock.’ The Mindserve was a walking encylopedia of knowledge, but it
had no sexual organs.
Johnnie, who took knowledge too seriously, asked, “What’s
‘earth’ mean?” They all stared out the Spaceport.
“It means,” Cock paused. “It means ‘dirt’.”
“Very imaginitive race,” Johnnie replied.
“Bumpkinville,” Delta snorted. “Hey Johnnie, you know those
cherry bombs in the back that we use to prospect?”
“For gold? The A-bombs?” Johnnie said.
“Yah,” Delta nodded. “We should do a flyby of those bumpkins’
planet... what’s it called, Cock?”
“Earth,” the Mindserve replied.
“Yeah, ‘dirt’,” Delta corrected. “We should do a flyby of
dirtball there and drop two or three A-bombs. Start a dirtball war.”
“Thermonuclear war. They appear to possess the appropriate
technological level. Our sensors are picking up numerous H-bomb silos,”
Cock said.
“Whoa!” Johnnie said. “These ‘bumpkins’ have *some* planetary
defense, Delt. Pull back or we’re the ones who are gonna get our
backsides shot off.”
“Nah,” Delta answered. “They only go up, then back down. No
threat to us at all. But we could start a Thermonuclear holiday for
them if we dropped a few cherry bombs. Wanna do it?”
Johnnie considered. “I think, based on their technological
level, they would have exhausted most of their gold supply too.
Probably their diamonds, platinum... We’re better off sticking to their
asteroid belt. It’s rich, undefended... they don’t even know what’s out
there.”
Delta laughed. “Wait’ll they get there and find its all dug
up.”
“They’ll consider that an important insight into life in the
universe. Probably thank us,” Johnnie said offhandedly.
“Yeah, we could land and be gods,” Delta mused.
“We need to get what we’ve got home,” Johnnie said. “Pull
back. I still don’t like all those silos.”
“Shit!” Delta said. “Look, I’ll do a swoop, drop a cherry
bomb, and *prove* to you all those missiles just drop back onto the
planet, okay? Here...”
Johnnie felt his weight alter slightly as their ship shot lower
for a pass across the face of the planet.
“It will disrupt their pace of technological advance,” Cock
warned.
“Oh, yeah.. we’ll postpone the coming of the Stone Age by a
million years. Who cares?” Delta replied. “No watch, Johnnie.”
Somewhere along the underside of their ship the snouts of
A-bomb launchers appeared.
“Delt, are you sure?” Johnnie asked. He blinked and a manifest
of their cargo from the asteroid belt flashed onscreen. It was a good
haul. They’d live free and easy on Betazoid for at least a week.
“Watch,” Delta said. Johnnie arched his neck slightly and
thought he glimpsed the downward glide of one of their cherry bombs. He
saw it glint against the planet’s upper atmosphere and was glad to see
his repair of the mechanism on the previous Cycle had been correct.
“My child was touched!” a female voice screamed across the
inside of the ship.
“Look, I’m picking up one of their broadcasts,” Delta said. He
gave a wry grin. “The Stone Age, Live!” he crowed.
“It will cause her permanent psychological harm... permanent
emotional scarring,” a composed male voice intoned.
“Her innocence is totally lost,” a woman, perhaps the host of
‘Stone Age, Live’ as Delt would have called her,” declared. For some
reason the audience burst into applause.
“We’ll be back after these commercials,” the host said.
“You’ll be back,” Delta agreed, nodding.
Johnnie watched as their first of their cherry bombs exploded.
“Washington, D.C.,” Johnnie said, blinking, calling up a
terrestrial name onto the viewscreen. “I wonder what sort of place that
is?”
“Was,” Delta said. They both watched the explosion. Another,
some distance north, followed.
“New York,” the viewscreen glowed. Then, after a moment,
“Albany, N.Y.” All of the names glowed in both terrestrial alphas and
their own language. Johnnie had muted the viewscreen sound so they
wouldn’t have to listen to the barbaric pronounciations of the bumpkins’
cities.
“Now, watch,” Delta said. He did a scan of the planet’s
surface. “There, look? Their silos are starting to open.”
“It’s a full scale assault!” Johnnie screamed. “Goddamit pull
up, Delta! We’re gonna get major damage and I don’t want to have to
repair half the sh--” Momentarily, Johnnie and Delta struggled for
control of the ship. The Mindserve watched placidly.
Delta, being the stronger, won. But he did glide the ship
upward to keep his friend happy. After all, Johnnie was the one who
oversaw all the mechanical work. Delta liked the way Johnnie made the
ship run. Nice and smooth. And fast.”
“Stunning,” the Mindserve said. Johnnie forgot the tug-of-war
with Delt. He glanced across the viewscreen to see if there were
explosions occupying the Mindserve. But there were only the mushroom
residue of their own bombs on the planet’s surface, so far.
“More,” Delta said. There was a slight tinge of awe in his
voice. A backside sensor reading of the planet’s surface now showed the
other side of the planet was opening up. Blossoming. With
thermonuclear bombs. With launches. With upward trajectories. In two
places.
“China,” read the viewscreen. It displayed a map of the other
side of the planet, picked up by the sensor scan, supplemented by maps
sifted from unprotected planetside computers. “Russia.”
“India.”
“Packistan.”
“Israel.”
“Baghdad.” Bagdad seemed to offer something less than the
standard thermonuclear response, however. Johnnie gave a slight grin
when he saw that their ship suffered no threat whatever from those
missiles. They seemed to have no nuclear warhead at all.
“Baghdad believes in peace,” Delta said wryly. “They’re
sending us flowers.”
“Congratulations, Delt. You lit up the whole planet,” Johnnie
said to his friend.
“See?” Delta said. He nodded at the viewscreen displayed
within their Spaceport. “You can tell already from the missile
flightpaths. All those suckers are falling back to earth. Every one.
Not a single one will touch us.”
“Yeah,” Johnnie agreed. “Wanna monitor their broadcasts and
see what they have to say about it?”
“Not much,” Delta said. “They won’t be talking too much
longer. So long, Bumpkins.” Johnnie felt the ship lift higher and
faster. They were headed once again for Betazoid.
“No ability to take along a living environment,” the Mindserve
said. He was reading some Tech Level screens. “No thrust... No
engines.”
“See, Jonnie?” Delta said to his friend. “They don’t *have*
any technological level. Look at the screens the Mindserve brought up.
No engine capability whatsoever. They couldn’t go anywhere. They spent
their entire existence sitting on that dirtball. The whole universe,
and all they ever did was sit in one place.”
“And look up,” Johnnie agreed. “They do have some radio
telescopes.”
“Wow,” Delta said wryly.
“Okay, well, whatever. We bombed Bumpkinville,” Johnnie said.
He seemed to have lost interest in the subject. Even the coming
explosion wouldn’t be worth watching. The Longscans would have to pick
it up for them. It was still half an hour away, and the sea-bornes, if
they had any, needed another eight minutes, at least, judging from the
data available on the viewscreen. They could be in the next solar
system by then.
“Betazoid,” Delta sat down in a chair. It lifted from the
floor to accomodate him. Delta gave the chair a satisfied swivel. He
liked being the Captain. He seemed to have forgotten their bombing run
too. A morning’s lark. They had bombed ‘bumpkinville.’ It wouldn’t
even be worth mentioning on Betazoid.
THE END
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