JUST HOW FAST IS AN AEROBUS?

he filched aerobus flashed through Sol System with all the inconspicuousness of a fish anaesthetist in an ice cream parlor. Yet Quand 12 kept the control locked on VERY FAST in a reckless attempt to escape the clutches of Mad Luigi. Only a scant Saturnian Saturday before, Quand 12 had been released from the Degeneration Chamber for luncheon, since it had been thought impractical for Saturn-dwellers to ingest Gourmet Food Pellets under neuro-guava stress.

Quand 12 was one of the 282 Saturnians captured in the Terran takeover...all others were either presumed dead or excellent hiders. Mad Luigi intended to routinely interrogate the prisoners before turning them over to the Space Market for auctioning. It was expected that the Saturnian’s sleek fur would bring high bids from amusement seeking galactic community leaders, and Quand 12 had recoiled at the thought of a future existence as a live-in throw rug.

But Mad Luigi’s henchmen unwittingly threw caution to the solar winds as they dragged the Saturn-dweller to the cafeterium, for they neglected to affix the Sensoid Sinus Neutralizer to his external encephaloid terminals. Quand 12 perceived the oversight while still co-conscious, and even before his senses were fully refocused, he had teleported his jailers into deep space. Additionally, he divested them of their exopants and spirited them behind the lunch counter in the cafeterium where they assumed all the appearances of a brand-new McGuffyburger. Saturnians could be so droll.

Now he had to concentrate his Level Three energies on escape for, fur or no fur, Mad Luigi wouldn’t hesitate to have him stir-fried upon recapture. The soft absquatulator probed the minds of a passing humanoid and learned that he was on Gwu, an artificial satellite which orbited Iapetus. So, he hadn’t yet left the protective shield of Saturn’s ano-atmospheric rings! Then escape was not only possible... it was inevitable!

Tucking some Gourmet Food Pellets into his chewpores, Quand 12 projected a Level Three wave of telehallucinosis into the satellite’s humorous nitrous oxide atmosphere, feeding three prime directives into the semi-minds of the colonists:

"Prepare one spaceship for immediate launch..."

"Stock it with Gourmet Food Pellets, an assortment of hologazines, and some sophisticated armament..."

"Paint the spaceship aqua..."

The last directive consumed the most time, but to a graduate of Living Room Group Coordination School on Titan, it was probably worth the delay.

At last, when all was ready, Quand 12 projected another Level Three prime directive into the Gwu atmosphere:

"Punch Mad Luigi!"

During the ensuing mobocracy, the fugitive Saturnian set out in his apocalyptically tinted aerobus -- faster than an armed space trawler but slower than an astroblimp -- away from his homestead of 122 Earth-years towards temporary shelter on Mokus 5, 1 1/2 million light years thither. But first, he had to elude the heavily patrolled Outer Sol System...and a converging blip on the Lookout-o-phon suggested that, even if he did make it past the outpost on Pluto, he wouldn’t be alone.

The Karmora Papers is Copyright ©1976,1993,1996 by Dennis Báthory Kitsz and David Gunn. All rights reserved. If you enjoy this book, an appreciation fee of any amount may be made to Dennis Báthory-Kitsz or David Gunn at Malted/Media Productions, 176 Cox Brook Road, Northfield VT 05663.

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