Truth. Justice. Minesweeper.

Sunday, December 19, 2004

Fehnruller was up arguing with the pilots and Misty was asleep when Ingrid scooched up beside me. "We need a plan," she muttered into my ear. "If we act fast we may be able to take over the ship."

"You're crazy," I said, in a more normal voice. "First, there're at least ten of these green guys on the ship, not counting those two yutzes who think they own us. Second, there're a bunch of other ships around. Third, what the hell do you intend to do with a spaceship over a week away from Earth?"

"You know what your problem is?" she said. "You're passive. You don't want to do anything. You always find a good reason for planting your ass on the ground and letting it take root."

I said, "Trust me," and lowered my voice. "I've already e-mailed for help. For all we know, Greyghost is fifteen minutes behind us. What we have to do is stay alive and not do anything he can't predict."

"And until then we're slaves?"

"Whatever," I said. "They don't know how to own slaves. They just want someone they can lord it over because the green guys don't pay any attention to them. It's not forever."

"You didn't hear Fehnruller's last thing, did you? You were asleep."


"They want to give us new names. Instead of Dennis and Ingrid we'll be Jimbo and Fifi."

"Very funny."

"I'm dead serious."


"Well," I said, "it couldn't hurt to have a plan." I got out a pen and notepad, and started drawing. "Here's the bridge, and this is the airlock..."

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