clearly have a mind the size of Arnold Schwarzenegger's humeral ligament! We're running out of oxygen. The temperature's rapidly becoming suitable for an Arctic Winter on Pluto! You've just activated what was otherwise a harmless bomb and now you have the nerve to tell me to stay calm!'
'Who's Arnold Schwarzenegger?' asked The Journalist.
'Arrrrghhhhhhh!'Lucy decided that a good scream was probably the wisest course of action under the circumstances.
The Journalist suddenly screamed as well. Lucy looked at him. 'I'm sorry.' he said. 'It's just I can't think when you do that.'
'I'm sorry too.' Lucy felt stupid. The Journalist smiled, and then, for no apparent reason, gave her a kiss on the cheek. Lucy was so surprised to be kissed by an alien, with beautiful orange eyes, she simply stood there, and heard him say:
'The dock is counting once every innim! That gives us about sixteen edoes before it gets to zero!'
'How long's an innim?' Lucy wanted to say but her mouth wasn't working. All she could do was stare into those strange and beautiful eyes as she heard him say:
'What we must do is find the life-boats!'
Dan was still deep in argument with the desk lamp in the Embarkation Lobby. It was an argument he had become familiar with over the years with Top Ten Travel. But there was something wrong. Somehow he just wasn't getting his points across. This damned desk lamp seemed to be coming out on top every time. Then Dan realized the problem was the air — or rather the lack of it — he just wasn't getting the amount of oxygen into his brain that a travel agent needs to argue for a free upgrade.
He was panting and gasping. He was also on his knees and his head was beginning to spin.
'If you want me to go to the Press and blow this story up, I'm quite happy to do so…' He knew once you were reduced to this line of attack the cause was probably lost. They'd never get into First Class, they'd never get to the Captain, and they'd all die of asphyxiation and cold. Great.
At that moment, he heard footsteps running across the loggia of the Central Well and an exhausted Lucy, accompanied by a strange man with bright orange eyes, staggered into the Embarkation Lobby. The two of them collapsed next to Dan and lay there trying to get their breath.
'Who's this?' Dan was surprisingly indignant for someone who was in the process of dying of
asphyxiation.
'Bomb!' gasped The Journalist.
'You're a bomb?' said Dan.
'No!' Lucy felt she had to explain. 'The, this is Dan. Dan, this is The.'
Dan blinked a few times.
'There's a bomb on board! It's about to go off!' The Journalist managed to get out. 'We've got to get to the lifeboats!'
'They're in First Class!' explained Lucy.'Naturally.'
'Now that is outrageous!' Dan received this new ammunition gratefully and turned on the Deskbot. 'If I tell the Travel Association that , they'll blacklist your whole fleet forever!' Wow! That was some threat. Dan knew,they'd had it levelled against the Top Ten Travel Co., Inc., countless times.
The Deskbot tapped its fingers on the desk and gazed up at the ceiling.
'D'you hear?' exclaimed Dan. 'I'll close this whole goddamned company down!'
'Listen you Dumbbot!' The Journalist had grabbed the Deskbot by its scrawny stand. 'This is a matter of life and death! There's a bomb about to go off in…' He checked his watch. 'In ten edoes! Pangalin!'
'How long's that?' asked Dan, but The Journalist wasn't listening. He was too busy shaking the robot. Suddenly there was a crack and a flash and all the lights went off for an instant.
'Hey!' cried everyone, and the lights came on again — although there was no cause and effect between the shout of 'Hey!' and the recommencement of illumination.
'I'm sorry. There is nothing I can do unless you have a Galactic Gold Credit Card,' replied the robot in a simulated strangled voice.
'Pangalin!' repeated The Journalist.
'Please mind your language,' croaked the Deskbot.
'Don't you have a credit card, The?'
'Who's Arnold Schwarzenegger?' asked The Journalist.
'Arrrrghhhhhhh!'Lucy decided that a good scream was probably the wisest course of action under the circumstances.
The Journalist suddenly screamed as well. Lucy looked at him. 'I'm sorry.' he said. 'It's just I can't think when you do that.'
'I'm sorry too.' Lucy felt stupid. The Journalist smiled, and then, for no apparent reason, gave her a kiss on the cheek. Lucy was so surprised to be kissed by an alien, with beautiful orange eyes, she simply stood there, and heard him say:
'The dock is counting once every innim! That gives us about sixteen edoes before it gets to zero!'
'How long's an innim?' Lucy wanted to say but her mouth wasn't working. All she could do was stare into those strange and beautiful eyes as she heard him say:
'What we must do is find the life-boats!'
Dan was still deep in argument with the desk lamp in the Embarkation Lobby. It was an argument he had become familiar with over the years with Top Ten Travel. But there was something wrong. Somehow he just wasn't getting his points across. This damned desk lamp seemed to be coming out on top every time. Then Dan realized the problem was the air — or rather the lack of it — he just wasn't getting the amount of oxygen into his brain that a travel agent needs to argue for a free upgrade.
He was panting and gasping. He was also on his knees and his head was beginning to spin.
'If you want me to go to the Press and blow this story up, I'm quite happy to do so…' He knew once you were reduced to this line of attack the cause was probably lost. They'd never get into First Class, they'd never get to the Captain, and they'd all die of asphyxiation and cold. Great.
At that moment, he heard footsteps running across the loggia of the Central Well and an exhausted Lucy, accompanied by a strange man with bright orange eyes, staggered into the Embarkation Lobby. The two of them collapsed next to Dan and lay there trying to get their breath.
'Who's this?' Dan was surprisingly indignant for someone who was in the process of dying of
asphyxiation.
'Bomb!' gasped The Journalist.
'You're a bomb?' said Dan.
'No!' Lucy felt she had to explain. 'The, this is Dan. Dan, this is The.'
Dan blinked a few times.
'There's a bomb on board! It's about to go off!' The Journalist managed to get out. 'We've got to get to the lifeboats!'
'They're in First Class!' explained Lucy.'Naturally.'
'Now that is outrageous!' Dan received this new ammunition gratefully and turned on the Deskbot. 'If I tell the Travel Association that , they'll blacklist your whole fleet forever!' Wow! That was some threat. Dan knew,they'd had it levelled against the Top Ten Travel Co., Inc., countless times.
The Deskbot tapped its fingers on the desk and gazed up at the ceiling.
'D'you hear?' exclaimed Dan. 'I'll close this whole goddamned company down!'
'Listen you Dumbbot!' The Journalist had grabbed the Deskbot by its scrawny stand. 'This is a matter of life and death! There's a bomb about to go off in…' He checked his watch. 'In ten edoes! Pangalin!'
'How long's that?' asked Dan, but The Journalist wasn't listening. He was too busy shaking the robot. Suddenly there was a crack and a flash and all the lights went off for an instant.
'Hey!' cried everyone, and the lights came on again — although there was no cause and effect between the shout of 'Hey!' and the recommencement of illumination.
'I'm sorry. There is nothing I can do unless you have a Galactic Gold Credit Card,' replied the robot in a simulated strangled voice.
'Pangalin!' repeated The Journalist.
'Please mind your language,' croaked the Deskbot.
'Don't you have a credit card, The?'
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