Fringewood News  SciFi #4.01


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I Mean, You'd Have to Be Stupid or Something

Jerry Walsh
© 1991

      "So you get a big kick out the tourney, huh? Watching the winners walk away with a world and all that stuff? Change their life forever. Not me. I come to watch the worlds blow up. It's what I used to do for a living before the tourneys. Blow up worlds. I come to watch on the off chance that one of them might show some talent. Every now and then, there's an original and classy destruction. Not every time though. More often than not, I go away disappointed. I mean, it's their first time. What can you expect? But some have a natural talent. But they're all stupid, in my opinion.
      "Why do I say that? You got to be stupid to spend money on a lottery, except for the chance to get to blow up a world. Winning the planet for best show is a waste. All you have to do get a planet these days is go there and claim it. Leave some token that you've been there and come back and claim it. Cheaper than what you go through if you're selected by the lottery board for your ticket. That's all a bunch of bunk to make it more cost efficient for the Expedition Council to remove rogue planets from their paths. They used to pay me a good salary to do it. Now they don't pay me no more. They let the contestants pick up part of the expenses instead.
      "I mean, hey. It's a kick. You'll never know the feeling that you get when that big fat monstrous glob of mass comes apart, and you know you did it, all by yourself. I could put all of those guys to shame. Even the good ones are a bit shy of the class you get when you do it time after time. You get a feel for planet busting with experience.
      "Oh yeah, lots of things to consider. Core size, density, fault lines between the mantles, atmosphere. Atmosphere plays a big role in the first few minutes. More than you think. Best atmosphere I ever saw was when this guy tried to implode the planet with a spin sensitive B-ball. He wanted to get the planet to vanish into the created black hole. He got about ninety percent there when it overloaded. Poor design math. Poor guy. But it blew the remainder of the solid stuff out past the atmosphere. And there you had this hollow sphere of air diffusing off into space. It contracted, and then the B-ball shut down, and it all just diffused. Seen against the star, it was most impressive. Quite breathtaking. Class as it wasn't intended. Divine error.
      "But most of these knuckle heads think Kaboom! And off everything scatters, and they feel puffy proud. Idiots. You gotta be stupid or something to think that these guys know what their doing. The instructors that are assigned to them never blew a planet. Twenty eight of us old pros left, and not a one of us veterans got so much as 'would you like the job?' They couldn't get rid of us fast enough to keep our pensions as small as possible. Now, they're rolling in the dough. For them, it was smart. They're popular, they're saving money hand over fist, and everybody wants to be a part of what they've got.
      "Be a big star, and kick a planet's behind, and own one of your very own. Fred Knitling was the brain child. He's going to regret it some day. One of the days, they'll let a real moron slip past them on the wrong planet. Not something for amateurs to be doing. Some of those baby's are dangerous, especially if treated wrong. I saw one idiot take out three other planets in the same stellar system because he saw no problem in punching a pipe down the pole of this one rogue that had the ecliptic and equator on the same plane. Completely wrecked the biosphere of the planet that the rogue was threatening. Kill the patient to prevent the possible illness. They paid for that one. Fortunately, no one got wind of the scandal.rocess. The discoverer of the hot rogue never lived to tell about it. They still haven't been able to get with five parsecs of the region, it's so hot a background.
      "I remember having to take one out. In a star cluster in Puppis. NGC 2451. How? Not easy You have to play a galactic billiards game. If it has a moon, all the easier. Place a near surface charge in the moon facing the planet. Set it off. The part that blows away is your reaction mass. You get most of it to burn off if there is an atmosphere. If there isn't an appreciable one, you get a bit of a leak. Only minor, though. When the energy is expended, the gravity pulls them back together, and if you do it right with corrective charges, you slow the orbit when they collide, and the planet falls starward. Since it's a stray and not in stable orbit, it doesn't take that much to dump it into the sun. And it's right at home in the star nuclear furnace. But you have to do it just right. You don't get a second chance with a moon.
      "But these guys don't know nothing about that. They couldn't tell a hot from a cheese puff. Huh? That's a planet with no core. Yeah, lots of them. Dullsville. You got no metals to flare. Just a bunch of rock. Only sight you get out of those are the resulting meteor showers on other planets in the system. Or craters, but that is years and lifetimes later. Have to be careful there to break it up fine enough. A core is good for pulverizing the stone with its density. Get fewer big craters in the system with a planet with a metal core.
      "But these guys don't know any of this. All the instruction they get are shaped wedges and cross section of the major faults. Any more, and they have to ask about it to be told. And they don't know enough to ask. Heck, we even offered to make a handbook, but the EC refused us the right to any royalties because it was about their tourney. Only place anybody can blow a planet these days, even if we didn't mention them once. They threatened law suits out the rear if we published a word. That's the kind of people running this thing. Stupid people. Stupid people run it. Stupid people participate in it. Stupid people advise for it. And something this dangerous should be left in the hands of people who know what they're doing.
      "You'd have to be stupid to want to have anything to do with it. One of these days, something is going to go wrong. I guess that's why I come to watch them on live screen. I want to know if it's time to haul butt. And there are the few that show talent. Us guys like to make contact with them, let them know the score. One of these days, they're going to want us back to do the job right, once they wind up with egg on their face. Most of the contestants are pretty young. Us pros are getting on in years. Got to put our knowledge somewhere, in case it comes later, rather than sooner. But there will be a day when this folderol dies in embarrassment. Sooner or later, the tourney will end up being a tragedy too big to live down. Then the pros will be needed again.
      "Oh, I'm not really bitter. I know I'll have the last laugh. Huh? No. I've never bought a ticket. None of the others have either. We get paid to bust planets, not the other way around. And one day the glitter will be gone from the list of contestants and winners. One day, things will go wrong and the honor will be tarnished. They'll go from being envied to being idiots for being a part of it. They will be the bitter ones. Not us pros. We're just biding our time.
      "Hey. We've warned them until we're blue in the face. They don't want to listen to the only people that really know what can go wrong. They don't want to know. They are making too much profit. Platinum mine. Huh? No, I feel sorry for the poor people duped into it. Taken for a ride with smiles all the way. Most are just ordinary folks that don't know better, looking for thrills and the competition. We used to have little contests of our own. Not for worlds. Heck, I could have claimed over four hundred worlds. Still could. Why waste my money? Unless you head an organization interested in colonizing, or a mining company, a world will do you no good, unless you wind up with a real fluke that has something of value that no other world has. But that takes more than a lifetime to exploit. First you have to discover this special resource, which means being there long enough to find it, providing you can recognize it when you see it. Years of isolation on your own ball of mud. Not my lifestyle, I tell you.
      "And the red tape. Fees, quarantine when you leave, all kinds of hassles. Owning a world is just a status symbol. May as well wear a pendant. There are so many worlds out there. Millions and millions. They want to give them away. Reduces their chance of being liable for accidents where worlds are involved. 'That wasn't neutral space. It belongs to so and so. Sue him, not us.' Big racket, I tell you. Not worth the risk, not to mention the fees involved if you win. They get you coming and going, right down to the core of you wallet.
      "You don't pay, and they put a lien on your planet and harass you until you pay. They threaten you with expensive court fights, but no one has seen a judge yet. They've got a good thing going, and they don't want to share it with another branch of government. It's all a scare tactic. Not so with us pros. They'd love to get us in court to take away benefits they rightfully still owe us. We have a contract with them that they'd love to break, if we were to give them a chance. That's the reason the tourney came about in the first place. They wanted us to make concessions in our salary and benefits. So they thought up the tourney instead. Or Knitling did, and the others jumped on the bandwagon faster than you could blink.
      "And you can be sure that there is plenty of skimming going on. You ask any of the contestants and see if they got receipts for all the money they forked over. And incidental expenses from the budget. Ha. Pure scam. The whole thing is rotten, I tell you, and they paint it up so shiny and clean on the surface. They are laughing all the way to the bank. A shining example of governmental ingenuity. But you just wait and see. Hey, let me freshen that drink for you. No, no problem. I never squandered my earnings like some spacers do. I'm living off of interest on what I earned during my years of duty.
      "Yeah. We got paid well. So do surgeons. We do a precise job, like it should be done. None of that hit and miss stuff from us. Not many can come anywhere near being as clean as we are on the job. We did the job right. And in the long run, EC is going to find out that it's the cheapest way. They will blow it big time one of these days, and all that financial advantage will go right down the tubes. They will end up worse off than if they had just kept right on using us. Some people are just plain blind to common sense.
      "Hey, here comes the next one up on the screen. I always get this feeling the next one just might be the one that brings them down. Uuup. Not this one. Very mediocre. I can tell from the first few seconds. This guy won't win a planet. Oh, well. Saved by the odds again. It will come, let me assure you. My bet is that it won't come during the tourney. I believe that just the scheduling is the thing that will get them. They'll fail to get to a rogue in time. The delay of logging the planet and putting it on the roster, and then waiting for some lottery winner to pick that planet as target. One of these days, I think that they won't get one in time, and that will cause the big stink. Then an investigation will come into their scheduling procedures, and that will open their can of worms.
      "Well. Mediocre it is, my friend. Another full twenty minutes gone, wasted in anticipation. Well, another hour before the next detonation. A bunch of the guys are getting together. A few of them have hired high dollar call girls. Nice, let me tell you. I got to see their pictures. I'm going to run over there and see if I can't get in line early this time. Not much fun when you're tenth in line.
      "And a word of advise. Forget buying the lottery tickets. I mean, you'd have to be stupid or something."

THE END




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