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Subject: Nov 1 Gold Diggers (NND)
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_/_/_/_/_/_/_/_/_/_/_/_/_/_/_/
Andrew Roller Presents
GOLD DIGGERS
_/_/_/_/_/_/_/_/_/_/_/_/_/_/_/
Chapter One
Amber was engrossed in a small, palm-sized magazine. It had a
glossy cover. It read, “Amazing Tales of Galactic Wonder.” A
rocketship on the cover streaked across a blazing, starlit sky.
Somewhere in the cover’s far lower right corner a blue-green planet
glimmered.
Amber read on her belly. Her small bottom stuck up behind
her. It was bare. Absently she flexed her bottom’s plump cheeks as she
read. 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 Jim. Her shoulder was small,
bare. Like her bottom. Her face was elfin. She had big eyes. She
gazed at Jim. Then she stuck out her tongue.
“And who’s that big shit?” Amber asked, looking at Jim. She
giggled. Then she turned back to 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. He was a boy, perhaps 15,
staring out into space.
“The planet is called ‘earth’,” the Mindserve answered. It was
an android. It stood next to the boy.
“Thanks, Cock,” Delta said to the android. It always amused
him to call him ‘Cock.’ The Mindserve was a walking encyclopedia of
knowledge, but it had no sexual organs.
A second boy appeared. He walked up to Delta and the
Mindserve. He stared at the planet out beyond the glass of the
Spaceport. His name was Johnnie and he took knowledge too seriously.
He asked, “What’s ‘earth’ mean?” They all gazed at the planet.
“It means,” Cock paused. “It means ‘dirt’.”
“Very imaginative race,” Johnnie replied.
The ship glided lower toward the planet. It was blue green.
It circled an average star. It was the third planet out from that star.
Delta regarded the planet. He read its Tech Data, such as it
was, as their ship’s computer brought it up onto viewscreens under the
Spaceport. Outside the Spaceport a vast wealth of stars glittered.
Earth hung in the screen’s lower right corner. It grew larger as their
space ship approached it.
“Bumpkinville,” Delta snorted. He guided the ship in closer
toward the planet. He turned to the boy beside him.
“Hey Johnnie,” Delta said. “You know those cherry bombs in the
back of our ship that we use to go prospecting?”
“For gold? The A-bombs?” Johnnie asked.
“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,” Cock corrected. “They appear to possess
the appropriate technological level. Our sensors are picking up
numerous H-bomb silos on the planet’s surface,” Cock said.
“Whoa!” Johnnie said. “Those ‘bumpkins’ have *some* planetary
defense, Delt. Pull up or we’re the ones who’re gonna get our backsides
shot off.”
“Nah,” Delta answered. “Their missiles 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. Probably
their diamonds, platinum too. 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 it’s 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 take what we’ve already dug up and go home,”
Johnnie said. “Pull the ship up. I don’t like all those silos.”
“Shit!” Delta said to Johnnie. “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 Bronze Age by a
million years. Who cares?” Delta replied. “Now 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 day 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 the first of their cherry bombs exploded.
“Washington, D.C.,” Johnnie said, blinking, calling up a
terrestrial name onto a 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. Their ship’s computer
pronounced the name of each location as it was hit.
A third explosion blossomed on the planet’s surface.
“Hicksville, N.Y.” their ship’s computer announced. The name
blared out from a viewscreen. Their ship spoke the location in the
barbaric tongue of the inhabitants. On the viewscreen, the names of the
places glowed in both the planet’s alphas and their own, decidedly more
advanced, language. Johnnie muted the viewscreen’s sound so they
wouldn’t have to listen to their ship read out the barbaric
pronunciations of the bumpkins’ cities.
Delta gave a mischievous grin. He touched a dial and their
ship scanned the planet’s surface.
“Now, watch,” Delta said. He pointed. “There. Look. Their
silos are starting to open.”
“It’s a full scale assault!” Johnnie screamed. “Goddammit 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. It gazed out the Spaceport.
It read the viewscreens beneath it.
Johnnie forgot the tug-of-war with Delt. He glanced out the
Spaceport to see what the Mindserve was watching. But he saw 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. They had dropped their bombs. Three “cherry bombs”. A-bombs.
But now much more was being launched. Not from them. From the planet
itself. A backside sensor reading of the planet’s surface glimmered
onto a viewscreen. It showed that the other side of the planet was
opening up. Blossoming. With thermonuclear bombs. With launches.
With upward trajectories. In several 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.”
“Pakistan.”
“Israel.”
“Iraq.”
Iraq 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 Iraq’s missiles. They
seemed to have no nuclear warheads at all.
“Iraq 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 a viewscreen displayed under
their Spaceport. “You can tell already from their missiles’
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
observed. He was reading some Tech Level screens about earth. “They
only lived on the planet itself. They possessed no space capable
thrust... no engines.”
“See, Johnnie?” 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. A whole universe to
explore, and all they ever did was sit in one place.”
“And look up,” Johnnie said. “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
planet-wide explosion, caused by earth’s own missiles dropping back down
on it, wouldn’t be worth watching. Their ship’s long range scanners
would have to pick it up for them. That ‘climax,’ such as it was,
wouldn’t happen for another half hour. Even earth’s sea-borne missiles
would need another eight minutes to reach their destinations. They
could be in the next solar system by then.
“Betazoid,” Delta sat down in a chair. It lifted from the
floor to accommodate 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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