Screw the Universe (19 page)

“You’re no longer going to fuck your way across the galaxy?”

“No, no. I am. I totally am.”

“Then how is that...”

“I am now going to knock-up every alien species in the galaxy.”

Dr. Porniviriyakul stared blankly at Captain Tyler for the better part of five minutes before saying, “What?”

“I’m going to knock-up every alien species in the galaxy.”

Dr. Porniviriyakul stared at him again.

“Why am I here, then?” he asked.

“Because,” said Captain Tyler, “your name is Dr. Porn. I figured you could help out, lend a hand, give me some advice, I don’t know. I mean, you’re Dr. Porn. ‘Doin’ it’ is your thing, isn’t it?”

“I’m a veterinarian!”

“So? I see no reason why that changes anything.”

“You don’t?”

“No.”

“You are aware that animals are different than people, aren’t you?”

Captain Tyler was beginning to get annoyed.

“Yes, I know there’s a difference here and there. What I mean is: Animals do it. People do it. Same thing.”

Dr. Porniviriyakul began to twitch, then turned and began to walk out of the room.

“Where do you think you’re going, Dr. Porn?!”

The veterinarian turned and lied, saying, “I’m going to work up an elixir that makes alien women succumb to your every whim.”

“Ah, cool. You do that then.”

Dr. Porniviriyakul returned to his lab — which also doubled as his bedroom — swearing uncontrollably.

“How is that motherfucker in charge?! Man’s got the IQ of a faulty toaster pastry! I’ll stab him in his fucking neck! And then I’ll fuck him in the fucking wound!”

Dr. Porniviriyakul stopped his tirade.

“Okay, no, that’s disgusting. I will not do that. I am not a murderer, nor a wound-raper.”

He looked around the lab, stopping at the cage of the rare Plutonian Snow Tiger against the far wall. The rare Plutonian Snow Tiger that was illegal in seven systems and had a death warrant, for the entire species, in two.

“However...”

Captain Tyler sat in his chair and looked at the stars off in the distance.

“Something on your mind, sir?” asked the computer.

“You ever stare off into the vast nothingness of the galaxy, contemplating just what exactly your role is in this ever-expanding void of stars and darkness?”

“No,” replied the computer.

“You ever look at the stars and try to connect them into a picture?”

“No.”

“I think I see a bunny.”

“Where?”

“Over there,” said the captain, pointing off into the blank cold dark.

The computer scanned the region.

“Sir, I’m pretty sure that’s Johnson’s frozen corpse floating out there.”

“But what about those huge ears?”

“Those are his arms.”

“Let me see.”

Captain Tyler walked over to the magnified viewfinder, found his rabbit and zoomed in. The computer was right. It was Johnson. His arms were raised above his head with middle fingers erect. Johnson’s face was angry and his lips were puckered as if he had just finished saying, “Fuck you!” And now he was stuck like that for all eternity, perpetually cursing Captain Tyler across the entire universe.

“Okay. Fine. So it’s not a bunny.”

The computer would have nodded in agreement, but it didn’t have a head. It was a computer.

“Say...” said Captain Tyler, “when was the last time we calibrated the weapons?”

“Records indicate that the weapons were calibrated just last –”

“Shouldn’t we calibrate them again?”

“Calibration at this time is –”

“I think we should calibrate them again.”

The computer sighed and said, “You want to fire a missile at Johnson, don’t you?”

“Oh, God yes. More than anything ever.”

“I really feel I should warn against this. We’re still docked at the Federation space station. Firing this close, without permission, would be frowned upon and incredibly reckless.”

“Fuck permission! I run the show now! How about we undock, fly around a bit and then ‘calibrate’ from a distance.”

“I don’t think that’s wise. We could hi—”

Captain Tyler – alone in the bridge since the rest of the crew was still loading cargo, restocking supplies, or pooping in the space station’s much nicer toilets – took the controls, muted the computer’s voice modulator, left port and piloted the ship toward the deceased dock worker. The captain positioned the Zdravo behind Johnson, putting the corpse between the ship and the space station. Captain Tyler switched the weapons systems to Manual, unmuted the computer and targeted Johnson’s frozen, angry cadaver.

The bridge viewscreen flickered to life.

“Captain!” shouted Major Heather Naughtyplaces. “What the hell do you think you’re doing?”

“I’m going to desecrate the corpse of a man I didn’t like,” replied the captain. “With rocket-powered explosives.”

“No, I meant undocking without clearance! You just killed a half dozen dockworkers!”

“Clearance be damned! They shouldn’t have been standing there.”

“They’re dockworkers! Where else were they supposed to –”

“Look, that’s not my problem. Orr gave me free reign of the Zdravo. The ship, she is mine. I can do anything I want with her, whenever I want, up to and including undocking recklessly, murdering crew or humping her vacuum ports.”

“You... You didn’t...”

“Oh, I did. And do.”

The Zdravo shuddered. The computer, a faint echo of her usual self, sounded like she was crying.

“Check the paperwork, honeynips,” said Captain Tyler, pointing finger-guns at the viewscreen. “I didn’t do anything illegal.”

Major Naughtyplaces opened her laptop and searched through a number of files in front of her. Her jaw fell open.

“Son of a bitch,” she said. “How the hell’d you swing that?”

“Long story, and I’m sworn to secrecy, but it turns out were both each other’s dads.”

“Wait, what? How does that even –”

“Clerical error and a time machine,” said the captain dismissively. “Speaking of, I think it’s still out there... You need a new daddy, Naughtyplaces?”

Major Naughtyplaces vomited in her mouth slightly.

“I can’t promise I’d be a good father, but I do know how to give a good spanking.”

Major Naughtyplaces vomited a lot, all over everything. Wiping her regurgitated lunch from her lips, she said, “Okay, we’re done here. Just try not to kill anymore dockworkers.”

“I make no promises.”

“I’m so glad I got off that ship,” mumbled Major Naughtyplaces, shaking her head. Then she began searching through more files. “We need to bomb the shit out of the Booger Nebula RIGHT NOW,” she shouted, turning from the viewscreen as it flickered off.

“The major made a good point, Captain,” said the computer. “Maybe you should be more responsible with your –”

“No dice,” he replied. “Beginning calibration in three...”

“Sir, manual calibration is not recommended,” said the computer.

“Two...”

“Sir, please, reconsider.”

“One...”

“The last time you did this it took me a week to recalibrate the weapons systems, you –”

Captain Tyler’s fingers tightened around the stick, his thumb hovered over the Fire button.

“F—”

It was at this point that Captain Tyler was mauled by a Plutonian Snow Tiger.

“What do you mean we have to put her down?” asked Dr. Porniviriyakul. “Lulu only mauled him a little. It’s not like she took his face off or anything.”

“Not all of it,” corrected First Lieutenant Archibald Duknerts, still wearing his civilian clothes – a banana-yellow one-piece biking outfit. He was the first to come back aboard the Zdravo and therefore the first to discover Captain Tyler’s ravaged body. Well, the first one who cared anyway.

“Whatever. It won’t hurt his idiotic mission. I’ve seen the captain work his magic. Despite all common sense, he’s very good at what he does.”

“He’s taken to wearing a paper bag to cover the mangled flesh.”

“That’s not Lulu’s fault.”

“Not directly, no.”

“Isn’t this the future? Shouldn’t we be able to fix his face with lasers or something?”

“Dr. Sodomy is on vacation.”

“Dr. Sodomy’s always on vacation! Can’t his assistant do it?”

“His assistant exploded last week.”

“What?”

“Pop Rocks and coke. They’re still cleaning her off of the cafeteria ceiling.”

“Huh,” said Dr. Porniviriyakul. “Then I guess I’ll do it.”

“Do you even know how to operate the Reconstructive Derma-Laser?”

The doctor shrugged and said, “I’m a quick learner.”

Three attempts later and Captain Tyler was as good as new. Except for a slightly singed wang, that is, but that wouldn’t take more than a couple of days to heal. Even having left Federation headquarters while the captain was unconscious, the first planet on his checklist was more than twice that time away. Plenty of time to prepare for the boning.

“Just put some ice on it,” said Dr. Porniviriyakul, helping Captain Tyler onto the gurney that would bring him to the recovery room. “It’ll be fine.”

“Feels all weird and spongy,” said a curious Captain.

“Stop playing with it!” said the computer.

“How do you know what I should or shouldn’t be doing with it, huh? You don’t even have a body. You’re just some voice.”

“Technically she’s not even a voice,” said the vet, packing up his face laser. “She’s just voice-modulating software.”

“So there, computer!” said Captain Tyler. “Take that!”

“What?”

“Weren’t you agreeing with me?”

“No, don’t be stupid,” said Dr. Porniviriyakul. “The computer was right. Stop poking it.”

“But it’s fun.”