Text 3292, 118 rader
Skriven 2005-12-22 05:51:34 av Greg Sears (3:633/104)
     Kommentar till en text av Björn Forsström
Ärende: Ho ho ho ho
===================
                       Space Travel

                     Adam Poszar, 1990.

    "Crap!" Captain James yelled, ripping off his headset and violently
throwing it behind him toward the roof of the ship's cabin.  "Darned
static, almost broke an ear drum!"

    His copilot, Android A14A, silently nodded while casually tracking
the gravity-free trajectory of the headset across the interstellar
freighter's cabin.  It gradually slowed as it stretched to the end of
its coiled telephone-like cord.  A14A watched it stop briefly in
center-cabin before beginning its return.

    Captain James was intently studying the control console readouts.
"This is the third time our communications equipment has gone haywire
this trip," he said.  "Navigation computer's gone, too.  Wouldn't you
know it, just as we're reaching the edge of our own solar system, too.
What I wouldn't give for a new Intergalactic radio transceiver and a
rebuilt navigation system."

    "Duck, Sir."  A14A announced.

    Captain James turned.  "Wha...?"  he managed as the headset
ricocheted off his right temple and into the control console.

    "I said duck, Sir."  A14A repeated.

    "Duck your butt!" Captain James barked, annoyed at his own mistake.

    "This is impossible, Sir," A14A answered,  "I am not so equipped."

    Angry silence prevailed as Captain James' attention returned to the
controls.  "There's a planet coming up. Quickly A14A, read the starmap
and tell me what it is. Earth system, outer orbits.  And hurry!"

    The android hastily removed the pouch from its pocket next to the
seat.  It read UNIVERSE: THIRD QUADRANT, SECTION H, SUBSECTION O, EARTH
SYSTEM, Scale = 1 centimeter per light/week.  The android carefully
pulled the badly worn map out of the pouch.

    "Hurry up, you overrated can of superconductive microcircuits!"
James shouted.  "We're already in its gravitational pull!"

    His words caused the android to jerk, ripping the map into three
pieces.  The center piece floated up and away, stopping at the ceiling
of the cabin.

    "Brass brain!" Captain James yelled, unbuckling his safety harness
and floating after it.  His motion caused the pieces of the map to float
along the cabin roof, away from the control console.

    "This is incorrect, Sir," A14A replied in its metallic monotone.
"My central processing unit is of the latest design using the most
advanced ceramic microchip technology.  There is no brass involved in
its manufacture, Sir."

    Captain James snatched at the map and stood inverted on the cabin
ceiling, scanning it feverishly.

    "Three point seven seconds to impact without engagement of the third
starboard lateral thruster within one point four seconds or less,"  the
flight control programming unit announced as the planet loomed.

    "Crap!"  Captain James screamed, flailing wildly, trying desperately
to swim through the gravity-free artificial atmosphere.  "Engage!
Engage!"

    "Impossible, Sir." A14A flatly stated.  "I am not so equipped.  It
is impossible for me to engage crap, Sir."

    "We're gonna hit!"  Captain James wailed, pulling himself back into
his seat.

    "Hit, Sir?"  A14A asked.  "Hit what?"

    "We're gonna hit Uranus!"

    "This is impossible, Sir.  I am not so equipped."

         *         *         *         *

    "EarthBase Interstellar flight control."

    Sam Barker grabbed the phone before the end of the first ring.

    "Damn!" he sighed into the receiver.  "Okay.  Yes. Okay, I will."
He hung up the phone and reached across to press the button on the
speakerphone.  "B14B," he said. "Read to me the navigation records on
the return flight of Arcturian freighter number seven oh oh three."

    "Problem, Sir?"  the sensuous feminine voice asked.

    "We lost it on the outer edge of the solar system."

    "Shall I bring in the insurance forms and the shipping papers, Sir?"

    "Please.  Wait!  I'm curious.  What was the freighter's cargo?"

    "Its that new trading company, Sir.  Their initial shipment.  I'm
scanning, Sir.  Cargo description.  Here it is.  Microelectronics, Sir.
Intergalactic radio transceivers and navigation systems.

    Barker sighed as he fell back into his chair. "Well screw me silly."

    "I'm very sorry, Sir," android B14B's sensuous voice replied, "This
is impossible, Sir.  I am not so equipped."

Salutations from --Christchurch-+
  ICE-man in      /\            |          \ | /   Mountains, Sunshine
 New Zealand     /  \/\         |  /\     -- O --   Forestry, Farming
-^-^-^-^-^-^-^-^/      \!!ii,,..@-/==\---^-^-^-^-^ Beaches and Surfing


... Regardless of what <YOU> think. . . . I am **THE** man!!!

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