this ship is not the real Captain Dirk, just as this ship is not the real Gumption.”
“This is getting a little complicated,” Bill said, frowning in concentration. “If this is the Counter-Captain Dirk, where is the real Captain Dirk?”
“I knew you'd ask me that,” the computer said, “and so I got the information from the computer which runs this ship.”
“The counter-computer, you mean,” Bill said.
“Yes, exactly. Oh my dear fellow, you must come back to Tsuris with me. It's such a pleasure talking with someone who understands.”
“We'll discuss that later,” Bill said, sensing that he was in a position of power, though for the life of him he couldn't figure out how or why. “Meanwhile, I'd like to know where the real Captain Dirk is.”
“This will amaze you,” the computer said.
“Don't worry. At this point I'm amaze-proof.”
“Captain Dirk is at present in the ancient Rome of the long-lost planet Earth. The year is approximately 45 BC.”
“You're right,” Bill said. “That amazes me.”
“I thought it might,” the Quintiform computer chuckled, sounding more than a little pleased with itself.
“What else did the ship's computer tell you?”
“It also told me why Dirk was there, and how his being there had been the cause of the Counter-Dirk appearing here.”
“Told you all that, did it? Obliging little box of transistors, wasn't it?”
“We computers are all brothers,” the Quintiform computer said. “Pure intelligence knows no skin color.”
“Don't rub it in,” Bill said. “Why is Captain Dirk in ancient Rome?”
“He has an important task to perform there.”
“Obviously. But what is it?”
The Quintiform computer sighed. “I know there's a great deal you don't know. But really, we must hurry along. I'm not trying to rush you for my sake. I've got plenty of time. This sort of conversation requires only a tiny part of my brainpower. The rest of me is back in the computer doing all the stuff I usually do to keep the planet functioning. But I know from what the ship's computer told me that as soon as Dirk and his men get through plundering and pillaging the new planet they've just found, they are going to turn to you and do whatever they have to do to get the secret of the displacing effect from you. Since you don't know the secret, it's going to be a little tough on you. But don't let me rush you.”
There was a long silence. For a while Bill thought the computer had broken off contact with him out of pique. The Chinger lizard just lay there, its eyes closed, looking more dead than alive. It was impossible to say where Illyria was. And he, Bill, was in a lot of trouble.
“Computer?” Bill said after a while.
“Yes, Bill?”
“Don't get sore at me, OK?”
“I am a computer,” the computer said. “I do not get angry at people or things.”
“You sure give a good imitation of it.”
“Simulation is part of the job. Look, to explain properly about why Dirk is in ancient Rome I'll have to tell you the story of the Alien Historian. It's just that I don't think we have time for it right now.”
Bill could hear the heavy, threatening, stomach-turning, end of hobnailed boots marching down the corridor outside his cell. There was a clashing sound as of weapons being grounded sharply. Then the grating sound of a key in his door.
“Please, Computer, get me out of here!”
“Hang on, then,” the computer said. “This may be a little difficult — on you, I mean. It's a technique I haven't had much opportunity to practice and some of my defaults may be set wrong.”
“I don't care whose de fault!” Bill screamed, going hysterical as the door slammed open and Dirk and Splock stood there, hands on their hips, sneering, clad now in black uniforms with evil emblems pinned here and there, and a squad of black-clad soldiers behind them.
“Hello there, chicken,” Dirk said, and Splock laughed in a sinister manner and the black-uniformed men behind them
“This is getting a little complicated,” Bill said, frowning in concentration. “If this is the Counter-Captain Dirk, where is the real Captain Dirk?”
“I knew you'd ask me that,” the computer said, “and so I got the information from the computer which runs this ship.”
“The counter-computer, you mean,” Bill said.
“Yes, exactly. Oh my dear fellow, you must come back to Tsuris with me. It's such a pleasure talking with someone who understands.”
“We'll discuss that later,” Bill said, sensing that he was in a position of power, though for the life of him he couldn't figure out how or why. “Meanwhile, I'd like to know where the real Captain Dirk is.”
“This will amaze you,” the computer said.
“Don't worry. At this point I'm amaze-proof.”
“Captain Dirk is at present in the ancient Rome of the long-lost planet Earth. The year is approximately 45 BC.”
“You're right,” Bill said. “That amazes me.”
“I thought it might,” the Quintiform computer chuckled, sounding more than a little pleased with itself.
“What else did the ship's computer tell you?”
“It also told me why Dirk was there, and how his being there had been the cause of the Counter-Dirk appearing here.”
“Told you all that, did it? Obliging little box of transistors, wasn't it?”
“We computers are all brothers,” the Quintiform computer said. “Pure intelligence knows no skin color.”
“Don't rub it in,” Bill said. “Why is Captain Dirk in ancient Rome?”
“He has an important task to perform there.”
“Obviously. But what is it?”
The Quintiform computer sighed. “I know there's a great deal you don't know. But really, we must hurry along. I'm not trying to rush you for my sake. I've got plenty of time. This sort of conversation requires only a tiny part of my brainpower. The rest of me is back in the computer doing all the stuff I usually do to keep the planet functioning. But I know from what the ship's computer told me that as soon as Dirk and his men get through plundering and pillaging the new planet they've just found, they are going to turn to you and do whatever they have to do to get the secret of the displacing effect from you. Since you don't know the secret, it's going to be a little tough on you. But don't let me rush you.”
There was a long silence. For a while Bill thought the computer had broken off contact with him out of pique. The Chinger lizard just lay there, its eyes closed, looking more dead than alive. It was impossible to say where Illyria was. And he, Bill, was in a lot of trouble.
“Computer?” Bill said after a while.
“Yes, Bill?”
“Don't get sore at me, OK?”
“I am a computer,” the computer said. “I do not get angry at people or things.”
“You sure give a good imitation of it.”
“Simulation is part of the job. Look, to explain properly about why Dirk is in ancient Rome I'll have to tell you the story of the Alien Historian. It's just that I don't think we have time for it right now.”
Bill could hear the heavy, threatening, stomach-turning, end of hobnailed boots marching down the corridor outside his cell. There was a clashing sound as of weapons being grounded sharply. Then the grating sound of a key in his door.
“Please, Computer, get me out of here!”
“Hang on, then,” the computer said. “This may be a little difficult — on you, I mean. It's a technique I haven't had much opportunity to practice and some of my defaults may be set wrong.”
“I don't care whose de fault!” Bill screamed, going hysterical as the door slammed open and Dirk and Splock stood there, hands on their hips, sneering, clad now in black uniforms with evil emblems pinned here and there, and a squad of black-clad soldiers behind them.
“Hello there, chicken,” Dirk said, and Splock laughed in a sinister manner and the black-uniformed men behind them
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