The Cost of Wampum

We need a Galactic Internet Connection before Russia,” was neatly printed in green ink on a clean piece of cardboard. Doctor Eli Prod held the sign in one hand. In his other hand was an aluminum foil-lined hat. He watched as a pulse of people started up from the subway during the morning rush.

As they got closer, he heard one girl say to another, “How terrible about that volcano in Sumatra. The whole area is just gone when the wicked thing exploded with no warning. All those poor people are now dead. Plus, the entire ecosystem near the volcano is destroyed.”

Her friend responded, “Oh and the huge Tsunami waves throughout the region means more dead, and the rest stranded and starving with no help for weeks. I wish I could do something to help them.”

“If we were connected to the Galactic Internet,” Doctor Prod moved his hat toward them. “I am sure they would know how to help. The Galactic Internet has all the answers to all our problems. The best way to help them is to help me. I almost have the ETC, I mean, the Einsteinian Time Compensator working. Anything! Please.”

His green camouflage clothing did not blend well with the concrete behind him. The girls looked at each other and shook their heads. Then they continued walking down the sidewalk. He moved his hat to the next cluster of people.

“Anything will help, please,” he said.

As he moved there was a subtle metallic sound of crumpling foil. To his side were a couple of shopping carts full of anything electronic like bags of outdated handheld devices, several stained cracked computer cases, a large box of grimy old keyboards, a few bulky dust-covered monitors, and more than a hundred obsolete computer daughter cards jammed in every left-over nook and cranny.

All the larger components were spray painted green. Some of the people coming up from the subway would laugh and some would sigh. A few would give him some coins or small bills with little thought, but most just ignored him.

One fellow puts a few coins in his hat and said, “When you get through, do not forget to ask for triple secret encryption on your connection. You do not want the KGB to listen in on your communications.”

Doctor Prod drew his eyelids narrow and said, “I know how to shield myself from them anytime I choose. If you do not, they will try to read your mind.”

“Jack, do you have to be so cruel?” The girl to the side of the budding philanthropist said.

She reached into her purse and put a twenty in the hat. “Here, buy yourself a good meal. At least someone should enjoy themselves this evening.”

Doctor Prod smiled and said, “Thank you, Ma’am.”

“Jenny!” Jack said. “I did not mean anything by it.” They kept walking down the sidewalk. “It is just a joke.”

“You know Jack,” Jenney said, “that is your problem everything is a joke …”

The grubby man quickly tucked the larger bill into his pocket. “I almost have the ETC working. Anything! Please.”

Each of his movements still was followed by the muffled sound of rumpling foil.

Early in the evening, Doctor Prod walked into Leroy’s Used and Surplus Electronics.

“Well if it is not El Medico. Leroy wants his money!” The tall thin man behind the counter scowled.

“Yeah Earl, you have it, just like I said. Give me my order, another 100 ft of wire wrap and five more 20-pin connector headers,” Doctor Prod said.

“You know why Leroy says you must be a real Doctor because you cause so much pain. You still owe us! Nothing for you until your overdue account is paid,” Earl said.

“It is paid! Look and see,” Doctor Prod said. He brushed at a fresh patch of dirt on his grime-stained shirt.

“Listen here, Mr. Prod. I cleared the accounts myself when the bank posted its deposits at four this afternoon. You know what, you are a pain! Look, here I will give you a copy of the bill, you crazy coot,” Earl entered the commands on his handheld interface to print out the account on an unseen printer behind the counter, “Then, you can get the money and pay up. After that, maybe, we will talk about letting you have something else.”

He grabbed the system printout and put it on the counter between them. “Look right here you owe … I do not believe it. The whole bill is paid. It says the account was paid yesterday, but I am sure it was unpaid this afternoon. Hey, how in blue blazes did you do that?"

“My account is paid. You have to give me my synthetic aperture EHF (Extremely High Frequency) super-heterodyning RF (Radio Frequency) header with a digital phase locked discriminating de-modulator.” Doctor Prod said. “That way I can finish the selector so my computer system can choose where our type of internet system will work with the intergalactic internet system.”

“We have your side scanning superhet in the back. The only thing it will select is some of the local radars, maybe.” Earl said. “If you ever break into our system again and order such bizarre junk, I will see that you get to select any local jail for an extended stay.”

“Leroy and I had a deal,” Doctor Prod said.

“That was not what you were supposed to do and you know it.” Earl frowned as he checked the account closely on his handheld device, everything seems okay. “You abused your access! Leroy said to let you upload the daily papers into that antique thingy of yours so you could watch the Funnies, nothing else. Why do not you get a modern connection with a full-service Black Box like everyone else uses? My B Box can connect me to any type of computerized system I desire. It is more than a just an old fashion cell phone or a fancy handheld computer. It is my cyber slave. It is the ultimate control. You know, on second thought, no more piggybacking into our Wi-Fi for you. If you can pay this bill, then you can pay for your own connection. For the life of me, I do not know why Leroy puts up with you. I would not!”

Doctor Prod was looking out the window. Therefore, he did not see Earl when he finally looked up at him.

Earl said, “I must be going as nutty as you are. I swear this was unpaid, but everything seems in order. I must have missed it. What color wire?”

The thin man pressed his lips together tightly.

Doctor Prod looked back to Earl.

“Green! That is the only color that is shielded in the eighth dimension. Man, I lose a lot of power there.”

“Yeah, green,” Earl rolled his eyes up and shook his head side to side in mock shock. Then looked back to Doctor Prod and said, “We are about out of green wire because of you. How can you trace all that circuitry?”

“I am not telling you any secrets. You are not on the access list.” Doctor Prod said as his eyelids narrowed, “Plus, you do not have a need to know.”

Then he relaxed and said, “My order, 100 ft of wire wrap – no make it 200 ft, and seven more 20-pin connector headers, please. Just hurry up, before they know I am here.”

He counted out 35 dollars in small bills to pay Earl for the extra parts.

Earl said, “This should just about pay for it all.”

He grabbed the receipt the store system printed out.

“You still owe 56 cents. You got it?”

“That was the last of my cash. Will you take my card or a check?

This cash card has plenty of money, now.” Doctor Prod said holding up a really old looking plastic card with a strange picture of a Hawaiian Tiki god on it. The Tiki seemed to wink at you as the card was moved.

Earl said, “For you, cash only! Nothing of yours is touching our system. Just take your junk and get out of here, okay El Medico. I will make you wish you had never been born the day I catch you in our computer system.”

Outside in the alley Doctor Prod, grabbed an old mouse in one of his baskets. Pushing a button, there was a soft click. He picked up just the top part of what looked like a big box of filthy keyboards. A space opened up to reveal several other small packages, some rolls of aluminum foil and a couple of cans of green spray paint. He put his new much larger package inside and replaced the top. He was quiet as he could be as he got close to the garage he rented, but one of the cart's wheels rattled as he approached the door.

“Is that you Prod? Just what are you doing down there?”

The landlord’s voice echoed through an open window.

Doctor Prod grabbed the carts and rushed them into the small area. He locked and barred the door behind himself. Soon there was a pounding at the door. Hundreds of feet of aluminum foil on all the walls moved with each yank on the doorknob.

“Open up!” The landlord said. “What in the freaking empty beer cans is going on in there?”

“The bills are paid.” Doctor Prod said. “Leave me alone!”

The Landlord said, “You make any more outrageous sounds or suck all the power from the whole block like you did this afternoon, and you are out of here. You got it! Plus, I better not have any problems when I come to collect for your part of the electric bill, Buster.”

The landlord hit the door with his fist one last time to stress he was serious.

“You know my account is good. You will get your money,” Doctor Prod said, “just like always. Now, leave me alone!”

“Okay, I better get my money. And not another peep out of you, understand! Or we are going to fist city.”

After the sound of the landlord’s footsteps faded away, there was only the quiet of the cool still Fall night.

Doctor Prod opened the back of a large green electronics bay. “Selector” was marked on the top panel of the bay in dark green ink. He pulled open a drawer in the back of the bay that was behind the main panel. Then he started to install the superhet and more components on some of the boards inside. It was very early in the morning when he finally finished his work.

Walking over to a box of keyboards, he selected one. Not liking the feel of the buttons, he threw it back in the box and picked another. As he pulled it from the pile, the cable connected to the keyboard tangled with the others in the pile of junk. He cut the cable off near the case of the unit with a pair of dikes. Then he took it over to the operator’s workstation. He sat down at the cramped area before the main display. “link?” was at the top of the old style CRT. A cursor blinked one space behind it. As he typed each letter on the keyboard in his lap, it would appear on the display. Then the cursor would move over one space. Even though neither device was actually connected by anything, anyone could easily detect.

He typed, “ETC 1.3” then he pressed the enter key. After a few seconds, there was the word, “loading” on the next line. The cursor blinked below that on the first space of the next line. In the background was the sound of a couple hundred data drives spinning up to speed, each one of the sub-systems waiting to do some function for the total system.

A dot appeared, and the cursor moved over one space. After a second or so, another dot was added. As each dot appeared, somewhere a green LED lit on one of the panels in the many electronic bays.

After more than two score of dots were displayed on the screen, there was a dull thunk and deep low-frequency hum. One of the cabinets behind Doctor Prod came on with a green bright glow that shined out all the holes, cracks and small openings. After a few more seconds, the hum changed to a low slow throbbing. Occasionally, there was the arrhythmic sharp snapping sound of an electric arc coming from one of the electronics bays.

He pushed a plug into a power strip. A house fan on top of the bay helped to blow air to cool the component that grew brighter and dimmer with the intensity of the penetrating throbbing sound. From somewhere came the unmistakable bittersweet-acrid odor of hot insulation mixed with Ozone.

Doctor Prod watched one panel in the bay marked Selector. A yellow LED on the middle panel stayed lit. Then the yellow dimmed. At the same time, a green LED next to it lit briefly then went dark again. Only the yellow remained lit. Doctor Prod waited. Again, the green lit for an instant, but then went dark yet once more. He sat watching the LEDs flicker for quite some time. Finally, after his system checked hundreds of thousands of possibilities, the yellow stayed dark and the green stayed lit. He knew his apparatus had selected a parallel Universe where the rest of his equipment had a good chance to link with the Galactic Internet.

He typed “hello” then pressed the enter key. The only light in the room dimmed. There was one low throbbing hum, a loud sharp electric zap, and the cursor moved to the next line. He waited, but nothing happened.

Doctor Prod looked around at the equipment. His eyes stopped at the bay marked “ITsPFM”. In the Instantaneous Tachyons Phased Field Modulator bay, a single green LED on one small sub-panel was unlit. He worked his way over to the bay and opened the drawer behind that panel.

There was not much to see: a few chips and some components on a board, a bunch of green wires going to it, and a power supply. He jiggled the wall wart power supply. The LED lit briefly then went dark again. He pulled the black lump of plastic from the power strip and looked at it. The contact prongs were not making a good connection in the AC power strip socket. He spread the prongs apart slightly with his fingers then plugged it into the next socket. The LED glowed bright and steady. He shut the drawer.

Doctor Prod stood stunned for a second as he made his way back to the primary system terminal. Around a naked light bulb, its glow barely chasing away the dark, flew a single moth. His eyes followed the erratic insect as it orbited around the light bulb that dangled from the aluminum foil-lined ceiling. Slowly he reached over and took a butterfly net that hung on a holder on the wall. In seconds he had snared the flittering bug.

“Got you, my beauty,” he said.

He took out an eye loupe to examine his capture closely.

“At least it is not KGB. Humm, it is not Israeli Musad or NSA CIA either. What is this, it is SIS. That is MI6! Well, say hello to all the Kings of England for me.”

He put the harmless bug in a small clear box. He sat it down on a gold pedestal that was on the top of the case of the main system display. At the base of the pedestal was a small red glowing button. He pressed it. After one low throb and a rather loud electric arc from one of the many green electronic bay cabinets behind him, the moth vanished.

“That takes care of you, my friend,” he said.

The moth now sat in the absolute void of non-space-time. Before the moth could die a hundred natural deaths, the pure unbridled energy of the Cosmic Egg started its extremely high-speed expansion. An instant later the expanding field of energy cooled to the speed of light, and all the matter of the Universe was expelled into existence. This atomized the moth along with a few other objects Doctor Prod had used to test his system.

He sat down and typed “hello” again. This time when he pressed the enter key the room’s light dimmed, but it also seemed to be waning and waxing to the deep throbbing sound. The electric arc was still the same. After a second, a high-pitched tone slowly decreased in frequency. When it got below what Doctor Prod could hear, everything vibrated on his table until there was a quiet pop. On the next line was displayed, “!@# \Link Error/\Updating * / $#%^ @%!% $!$ ((IGC 0.0003*10^0”.

Outside the foil-lined room in normal space-time, Doctor Prod’s very irritated Landlord seemed frozen in mid-stride, and it was not because he was only wearing house shoes and a robe on a cool autumn morning. His hand stopped just shy of the doorknob. He finally had it with the dimming lights and loud odd strange sounds. Unfortunately, the words telling Doctor Prod that it was all over and he was so out of there did not leave his lips.

Back within the compensated space-time, sporadically there was another pop. With each pop, the * would move over one space. Soon there was the sound of very many drives being accessed. That signaled an enormous amount of data transferring between many of the sub-systems. After a time the display cleared itself and the message, “!@# \Welcome Guest/ ^&**H* *G^ ^$$DG ((IGC 2.3499*10^2” appeared. That was followed by the soft pop.

Doctor Prod typed, “help” then he pushed the enter key. This time the room’s light dimmed but not nearly as much, and the rude electric arc sound was replaced by the more genteel soft pop. A second later the high-pitched tone slowly decreased in frequency. Everything vibrated on his table until another pop. On the next line was, “!@# \configuration error/>Enter for diagnostics< ^T%$E D S$ n& $T^^^R W~E V@$@#$% ((IGC 2.5648*10^2”. Doctor Prod press the enter key. Everything was the same down to the soft pop. After his transmission back he received one line, “!@# \Downloading assistant/ #%$W E%$& ^%DSE \* /((IGC 2.0724*10^3”. The * would again move with the subtle pop, but this time it was much longer between pops. Finally, the display cleared, and it then put, “!@# \<1> Turn on laser line printer<2> Then enter when ready<}Results in an InkNanite™/ ^J^$&N^H*&^%%M * ((IGC 4.8987*10^3”.

Doctor Prod pressed Enter and watched spellbound as his printer produced a strange pattern based on a Mandelbrot series. The printer finished. The final creation sat in the holder, but before he could move, the Mandelbrot blot peeled itself from the page. Wide-eyed Doctor Prod watched as it flew across the room to one of his electronic bays. It stuck to the front of a panel. There was a ping. On the first line of the display was, “!+= \Error: Missing or non-conforming hardware/>Enter to bring to standard configuration< ((IGC 5.0128*10^3”. When he pressed enter, the space-time around the bay the blot had stuck to distorted for just an instant. After that, the bay was a much more intense tone of green. Imprinted at the top of the reconfigured bay was, “>^< ™”. The blot moved to the next bay. There was a ping. On the next line of the display was, “!+= \Error: Missing or non-conforming hardware/>Enter to bring to standard configuration< ((IGC 7.9928* 10^ 3”. He pressed enter. Everything happened almost the same way as the first time, except this time imprinted at the top of the new and improved bay were the symbols “(> - - -™”. After each bay was updated in a similar manner, the blot stuck to the side of Doctor Prod’s monitor. This time after the ping the next line displayed was, “!+=\Error: Illegal Hardware/\Violation AAGP 4c/>Enter to remove discrepant hardware<results in the completion of the process of bringing the system to the current minimum specifications{ ((IGC 2.9928* 10^ 4”. Doctor Prod pressed enter. The space-time around the display CRT distorted for an instant. A device, that rendered system inputs, and outputs in a multi-dimensional format, replaced it. On a piece of parchment, that seemed to float before him, lettered in fine golden ink was:

!@#\Welcome Guest/

\Search/ >Press here<

\Virtual mall/ >Press here<

\Book passage/ >Press here<

\User group/ >Press here<

\Your blog/ >Press here<

\Reconfigure/ >Press here<

\Read welcome/ >Press here<

\View account/ >Press here<

\Bylaws/ >Press here<

\Assistance/ >Press here<

\Start Point / >Press here<

((IGC4.2589*10^4

He put his finger on the press here that would continue to the Start Point. He could feel the smoothness of the ink on the more fibrous paper. The display cleared and a glowing spot of light appeared. Doctor Prod heard, from no particular point, a strange series of sounds.

At almost the same time a voice said, “There seems to be a problem with your account. You owe 42, 589 Inter-Galactic Credits. How do you propose to pay?”

“Do you take cash card or a check?” Doctor Prod said aloud, “You are not KGB are you?”

The strange sounds started again and the voice said, “What? Look, we only trade in hard goods. Do you have any Gold, Steel or other valuable commodities that would bring your account current?”

He said, “Well, I guess I could get something. Hey, I have a lot of Aluminum foil.”

“Oh good,” the voice said. “We would need 9 tons of that to bring your account current. Where is it?”

“I … I do not have that much,” he said. “Wow! You must have some KGB problem.”

“Look, we do not take kindly to deadbeats,” the voice said, “and whatever KGB is unless it can pay your bill now, do not confuse the subject. You owe us 42, 589 Inter-Galactic Credits. How do you propose to pay? This is the second official demand for payment. Our preliminary research shows your world has plenty of trade goods. Trade would do all of us some good. Produce something of value, please.”

He said, “Ah … I have some computer parts. Prime hardware! How about that?”

The voice said, “Okay, let us see what you have.”

Doctor Prod grabbed one of his shopping carts. Pushing it by the display, he said, “Can you see this?”

The voice said, “Yes. Primitive, but useful, you will need at least 5 tons of that type equipment, and I am giving you a big break.”

Doctor Prod said, “5 tons!”

The voice said, “Come on be civil about this, you do not seem to understand what is being offered here.”

“I was trying to get a Galactic Internet connection with triple secret encryption,” Doctor Prod said, while he squinted and frowned trying to see into the glowing light, “Just what are you? Do you have a body? You sound like one of the voices in my head that I ignore. Why should not I ignore you?”

“I am your … messenger Unckiafer,” the tone of voice became much more callous, “Look, I do not know how to put it to you more plainly, Pay us! This is your third and final warning. Your hardware was very discrepant. Moreover, you had to use an InkNanite. Even the dullest of civilizations understands a need to pay for services rendered. We will even take pretty glass beads at this point. You would need about 14 and a half tons. It would depend on the acceptability of the product’s art factor. Please do not force us to file charges on you in Galactic Court for payment. This would set such a bad tone for all our future interactions.”

“What do you want from me,” Doctor Prod said, “A pound of my flesh?”

“Must you be so melodramatic,” Unckiafer said. “Let us be civil and friendly. Make real arrangements for payment, now!”

He said, “Give me some time!”

Unckiafer said, “You have an ETC.”

Doctor Prod had ignored the background sounds up to now, but when he heard Unckiafer say ETC there was a fuzz to the untranslated voice that tickled the inside of his ear for an instant.

Unckiafer said, “You have had all the time in the Universe. Lack of planning on your part is no excuse. You did not think a thing like this would be free, did you? Payment is now. This is the last chance to do the right thing, and join our vast community as a full member.”

“Let me go to a parallel Universe where I have your, ah … wampum,” Doctor Prod’s finger could not quite reach the odd itch in his ear.

“Oh like we never heard that one before,” Unckiafer said, “We would never see you again. You would stick us for this bill. You have no intention of paying do you?”

Doctor Prod leaped up and turned off the main power connection to his contraption from an electrical box on the wall. “I do not have to put up with you!”

Everything went dark.

Suddenly, the doorknob rattled, “Mr. Prod!” The Landlord said, “I have had it with you. You are out of here!”

As Doctor Prod sprinted for the door, he said, “No! Do not let them get me!”

He tried to unlock the first in a number of devices that secured the door and said, “They want 14 and a half tons of pretty glass beads.”

The landlord said, “What in the freak show are you talking about you crazy lunatic? You better be more worried about me!”

The door rattled violently. All the foil lining the room shuddered.

“That noise this morning was deafening. You woke me from a great dream I was having judging a beauty contest.”

The door rattled yet once more. “Look! Here comes Herb from next door.” The door shook even harder.

“I am first!” The foil sounded like it would rip from the walls.

Before Herb could ask just what was going on, there was another loud booming reverberation. The noise at the garage door stopped because the power returned to Doctor Prod’s apparatus.

Unckiafer said, “You did not just try to break our connection by disconnecting the main power source, did you? That shows intent!”

In an instant, Doctor Prod was sitting at a nice table. He just realized he was in a strange room when a spotlight glared down at him. He could now see little in the surrounding gloom.

“Swear him in so he can legally testify,” a snooty voice said.

From somewhere a court clerk said, “Do you swear to the Great Mystic Cosmic Creation Force that the testimony you are about to give is the truth, the whole truth, and nothing but the truth?”

“I do not talk to voices without bodies,” Doctor Prod said.

The clerk said, “Do not be coy with us, we can tell you have the ability to comprehend. Please answer the question as translated.”

Doctor Prod tried to see passed the glare, but he could not. “I have rights! You cannot do this to me, you commie pinkos!”

All of his movements were still followed by the muted sound of crumpling foil.

Suddenly Doctor Prod was in a small dark room. In front of him on a wall was a projection. “\Your Rights/

 First \breathe the air best suited for your body/ … ”

A dull monotone voice recited each word that was projected. To Doctor Prod, the lecture that completely covered his rights took three hours and twenty-three minutes. There were no breaks.

Afterward, Doctor Prod appeared back in the courtroom, the clerk said, “Did you understand your rights?”

Doctor Prod said, “What?”

The clerk said, “I am sorry your Honor, we appear to have a dumb one this time.”

“Very well, since he is new here. You may take a second and translate his rights to him again,” the much more snooty voice said.

Instantly, Doctor Prod was back at the three and a half hour lecture. Afterwards, he re-appeared back in the courtroom. The clerk said, “Did you understand, your rights?”

“What?” Doctor Prod said.

The clerk said, “Let the record show the accused had his rights translated to him twice. If he still does not understand, in the interest of time, let the record show the trial shall proceed. If the accused still does not understand what is happening, it can be explained to him repeatedly in different ways until he can fully accept his responsibly at that later time.”

“Very well,” the snooty Judge said, “You stand accused of incurring a debt of 42, 589 Inter-Galactic Credits and refusing to pay, how do you plead?”

“I am innocent,” Doctor Prod said, “I never agreed to any contract for extra-dimensional services. My equipment worked fine. Beside 42, 000 is an outrageous amount to charge.”

“You are right that is a rather high bill,” the Judge said, “Plaintiff, care to explain the charges.”

Unckiafer said, “It is all part of the public record. I suggest we fetch the InkNanite. It has the total bill.”

“It is your InkNanite, does the Defense object?” The Judge said, “Hello, Defense! That is you … Doctor Prod.”

“Really your Honor,” Unckiafer said, “This one is just too uncouth to understand anything. I move a standard judgment be made, and he is forced to pay.”

“How do I know you are not just some of the other voices in my head?” Doctor Prod said, “I refuse to talk to voices with no bodies. This cannot be real.”

“This bill is real enough. In this case, his denial is acknowledgment your Honor, please can we proceed?” Unckiafer said.

“Very well, bring in and download the InkNanite into the public record.” The Judge said after a second, “What is this, an AAGP 4c Violation. Doctor Prod did you have an illegal ETC displacement device attached to your system monitor? I must warn you anything you say may be held against you.”

With his finger in his ear trying to reach the bothersome itch, Doctor Prod said, “What are you voices in the light talking about?”

Unckiafer said, “Cruelty and unneeded torture of living beings is an investigation of another type your honor, our original complaint was the unpaid bill.”

“Quite! I will have order in my Court,” the Judge said, “I am obliged by Galactic law to investigate any AAGP charge. I want you to think carefully before you answer the next question, Doctor Prod, how did you use your ETC device?”

“I have only used my ETC to help single out and connect to a reality where my internet system worked with the galactic internet, and perfectly I might add.” Doctor Prod put his finger in his ear again and said, “When I say ETC, does it tickle the inside of your ear like mine?”

“Does ETC tickle what?” Unckiafer said, “Your Honor, please! We do not care what he did with his ETC. If you must, get your answer on the use of an ETC, or better yet, rule him responsible to pay. Then the court can investigate any ETC misuse it wants. What is he doing with his ears? I hope we are not about to be blessed by some unknown biological function are we?”

“Order! You will answer this query Doctor Prod,” the Judge said, “How have you used your ETC?”

“Would you stop saying ETC? I will confess to anything, just stop tickling the inside of my ears. I displaced some test objects and a spy to the instant before space-time.”

“You did what to a spy the instant before space-time? You could have changed reality,” the Judge said.

“Really your honor, there was nothing before existence.” Unckiafer said, “Are we to believe this outrageous behavior? He is just using his supposed Acts Against Galactic Peace as a ploy to get out of payment by a claim of Megalomania. We all know that he did no such thing. He is just telling stories trying to distract this Court from its primary purpose, the bill!”

“Doctor Eli Prod has no need to tell stories about anything!” He stood up straight and proud. Then he slapped his hands on the table. “I would be glad to show you personally how I did it, but none of you is on the access list.”

He sat down in his chair. Then he folded his arms across his chest.

Unckiafer said, “Oh my! Please, your Honor, just rule for him to pay his bill, then the Court can investigate anything it likes to about these nasty pre-societal creatures.”

“Bailiff,” the Judge said, “Fetch this spy and bring them before the court,”

In the short time they waited, Unckiafer said, “In the name of all the stars in the universe your Honor, please. The complaint is a failure to pay. Can we finish this complaint before we look into an AAGP charge?”

The Judge just sat quietly.

After a few more seconds Unckiafer said “I beg the Court, would you please just rule against him. Make him accept his responsibilities and pay his bill right now.”

The Judge said, “Enough. I will have Order in my court! We shall check into these very serious offenses then we will entertain your monetary complaint. One more outburst from you and I will hold you in contempt though. My patience is running thin.”

In a few more moments all the objects Doctor Prod had displaced outside of his space-time sat on a table before him.

The Judge said, “Where is this spy?”

“That is the spy,” Doctor Prod said as he pointed to the moth in the plastic box. “Be careful, if those dark eyes see you, then the Brits will try to read your mind.”

Unckiafer said, “There are no mind probes! This harmless insect is not a spy. Really, your Honor, he is wasting the courts time.”

“Oh yeah,” Doctor Prod said, “Those dark pits are the eyes of the hidden ones on their wings. They are always watching you. Moths always fly around at night spying on you. Then once those eyes see you, they can read your mind with their bizarre antennas. Then they report everything they learn to their unseen masters.”

“Abnormal behavior is not a defense!” The Judge said. “You are still responsible for this bill. I rule that you are to be bound to the Great Machine for punishment. There you are to exchange your physical labor for payment. In addition, you are to be given re-education to assist in the understanding of this situation. Doctor Prod do you grasp this ruling?”

“That is no fair!” He said, “You cheated! I did not know I was running up a bill at your company store. You have got to give me a second chance.”

The Judge said, “You were asked each time what you wanted to do. Each time you chose to enter the store. In addition to that, a projected total was given to you each time you left the store. Your race is one of the few that has devoted a character key to the concept of Enter. Yet, you still do not seem to understand. Ignorance and lack of planning on your part is your problem, not ours. My ruling still stands.”

Doctor Prod stood up, put his hands on the table, leaned forward, and said, “That is what leaping kangaroos always say when they hold court!”

“How dare you!” the Judge said, “I have been lenient up to now but, you are in contempt. I rule another 5, 000 hours of intensive labor be added to your sentence to think about your lack of civility. Care to add more?”

“Excuse me,” Doctor Prod stood up straight. “I forgot Tricky Dick’s First Postulate of Political Power,” He sat down and said, “He who is in charge makes the rules. I do not have a chance. Why do not you let me make the rules?”

“Another 5000 hours I rule, care to go on further,” the Judge said.

“Your Honor, must we endure this madness,” Unckiafer said, “Please, just rule to end this case.”

“I get to make a rule now,” Doctor Prod said, “I get to go back at least a month before any of this happened. Then you have to give me a couple of days to get your wampum. Then we can forget all about this whole nasty experience.”

The Judge said, “Is that what you would rule?”

“Your Honor!” Unckiafer said, “You do not trust him, do you? I demand Justice, and he is held accountable for his debt. He has already had his chance to pay the proper way. He chose another venue. Now he must learn his lesson and understand his responsibilities to a refined and cultured society.”

“And I demand order in my Court! I shall do as I see fit!” the Judge said, “Doctor Prod since this is the first time you have been in this Court we are prone to leniency, even though you seem to have an inclination for outbursts. There are a number of problems to what you propose.

First, you might talk to yourself and try to run out on your responsibilities. Therefore, if you try to warn yourself of what has happened, or you do not return within the period you requested, this agreement is void.

You are to wear your InkNanite as a general tracking device. You can use it once to call us when you are ready to correct this monetary situation. While you may find it difficult to remove, if you do, this agreement is void.

I hope I am getting through to you. I want you to know this, if you do anything to void our agreement, we will bring you back to serve the full and unpleasant sentence. Given your present body capacity, 136, 250 hours of labor will take an estimated 27 and a quarter of your years connected to the Great Machine to work off your full debt. It will depend on how fast you are and how hard you can work. Let me assure you, the work is not meant to be a nice experience. Moreover, you will not like the re-education that accompanies your rehabilitation. Therefore, you are hereby given one and only one chance to correct your situation. Do you agree?”

“To what,” Doctor Prod said, “A ruling in a game I did not even know I was playing?”

“This is not a game! Do you realize,” the Judge said, “if you void our agreement, you will get to experience the entire sentence in what seems an instant of your normal space-time?”

“Your Honor, as you can plainly see,” Unckiafer said. “He is just too boorish to grasp his responsibilities. Moreover, I find him of questionable sanity. Humans are as they appear. Uncivilized deadbeats who need to understand that the Universe does not revolve around their foul bodies! Make him accept his responsibilities to an urbane society like every other sentient being and pay his debt the correct and proper way, please your Honor.”

“And that statement demonstrated your refined culture and superior compassion how?” The Judge said, “Doctor Prod I will warn you once, do not void our agreement in any form. I will give you this chance to correct your debt your way, or we do it our way. Do we have an understanding?”

“What is this, a choice between Evils? I choose neither.” Doctor Prod folded his arms across his chest and tried to look as righteous as possible.

“You fail to fully comprehend your situation,” the Judge said, “We do not want you to choose, we want you to understand why this is going to happen to you. That is the only way to correct your adverse and antisocial behavior. This is not some game that you can just restart. This is reality. You have incurred a debt. Therefore, you must understand your situation and accept your responsibilities.”

The light vanished. As Doctor Prod’s eyes adjusted to the dark he realized he was sitting in the chair at his system terminal. His carefully marked desk planner showed the date as the end of August. Tomorrow would be the First. It was one month before he would complete the system. The planner denoted the computer system prediction that the park was where to beg today. As he remembered, he had taken close to the predicted amount.

Wait something strange happened. It was something about his shirt. Trying to remember an infinite number of possible futures hurt his head. Was he really in the park begging right now? Apart of him wanted to go and see. Another froze him in his chair. What would happen if he met himself? One thing for sure he had to go somewhere he would not be to think over his complex situation.

“Well if it is not El Medico,” Leroy said, “How did you find out where I lived?”

Leroy looked over his shoulder and called to his wife. “Rebecca Sue it is that nut, Doctor Prod from the Store. Would you please call the Police?”

Leroy locked the deadbolt of the security screen door and started to close the heavy wooden inner door of the Victorian style house.

“No, wait!” Doctor Prod said, “I need 5 tons of scrap electronics, and I thought maybe you would like the deal but …”

“5 tons! What type of electronics?” Leroy said with the wooden door partially closed.

“You know junk, like you have,” Doctor Prod said, “Only it has to be good, really prime junk!” He glanced around nervously. “Come on Leroy, everybody in your position has a few tons of scrap they would like to see disappear and make a small profit on it at the same time. You got something I can use?”

“Leroy!” Rebecca said, “The 911 operator wants to talk to you.”

Leroy took her glitzy pink B box and then opened the wooden door a little more. The heavy screen security door was still locked.

“Hello, yeah the guy is gone now. If I see him I will call back!” he disconnected the call handed the B box back to his wife. “You got about a minute before I see you again, start talking.”

“It is simple,” Doctor Prod said, “I made a deal on the Internet, and I need 5 tons of good electronic scrap. You got something? If not I am gone. Look, Leroy, I have a problem, can I get off the street before I am seen?”

“How do I know you really have the cash?” Leroy said, “You one of those rich bums?”

Doctor Prod held up his well-worn cash card. The Hawaiian Tiki god seemed to wink.

“There is just over 10, 000 left in this account. It is all I have, but I might be able to make it more in one month. I am not sure.” He said. while he looked up the street, “Here call and check it out. Only, can we do this inside, please?” He looked back down the street.

“What, the KGB after you,” Leroy said?

“They are the least of my troubles.” Doctor Prod said. “It is just … I cannot be seen right now and your house is only a block away from the Park.” He now looked back over his shoulder. “That could cause me big problems. Come on! You can check the card out and see.”

“Okay,” Leroy opened the security door and took the card. Then he invited his guest inside. “You, sit there!” Leroy pointed to the steps that led upstairs. Doctor Prod sat and waited.

Leroy called his bank. “Yeah, this guy wants to make a 10, 000 dollar deal with me, is he good for it?” He recited the number from the card. “Okay, thank you very much.”

“See I told you.” Doctor Prod said.

“No, wait,” Leroy said with a smug grin, “You said more in a month. I need a lot more. How much more can you make appear on this account?”

“As much as you want Leroy.” Doctor Prod said, “Only, I need help with another problem.”

“Oh yeah,” Leroy said, “What kind of problems could a nut like you really have? You are afraid of butterflies.”

“Moths are the ones that watch you at night, not butterflies. Before we start you need to see this.” Doctor Prod said. He handed an eye loupe to Leroy and unbuttoned his shirt.

“Look, if this evolves you taking off your clothes …” Leroy said.

When he noticed the Mandelbrot blot on Doctors Prod’s left shoulder and upper chest. He took the eye loupe and looked closer at the mathematical pattern. No matter how close he looked at the pattern, it only revealed more detail of the same pattern.

At that moment, Rebecca walked back into the hallway put her hands on her hips and said, “What are you doing?”

Leroy stood up and handed the eye loupe to his wife. “Becca, you got to see this.”

Doctor Prod said, “They have somehow attached the InkNanite to the living DNA in each of my body’s cells that it is over.” Now, he felt a bit awkward as a woman he had never met invaded his space.

“Who attached this to you?” Leroy said.

Finally, standing up, Rebecca said, “It is the same thing only smaller.”

“You would not believe me if I told you,” Doctor Prod looked down at the floor, “No one ever wants to listen to me. They just tell me I do not know what is real anymore. With math, I proved it to them, but they refused to understand. They just hoped I would go away. I have done a lot of research on the Internet and other places. I have learned a lot, but some of the variables in my equations are still imaginary in this universe. I became obsessed with the thought that all the data I needed would be on the Galactic Internet. So all I have concentrated on lately is getting to the Galactic Internet. Only, once I got there, I could not pay for the equipment upgrade. Now, I have to pay the bill. Either I pay with goods, or I pay with 136, 250 hours hard labor.”

“You are just imagining this, or it is a scam,” Leroy said, “Someone around here who knows you is trying to get this money, fool.”

“Gee, I do not think so Leroy. Unckiafer seemed awfully real. He did not want the card. He gave me some different choices: 9 tons of Aluminum foil, 5 tons of scrap electronics, or 14 and a half tons of pretty glass beads. I wonder what Unckiafer thinks pretty is like?

I figure if someone was trying to rip me off then they would have already had the cash. You know, the amounts of each type of goods make little sense to me. Look, all I know is Unckiafer is going to want this stuff, or I get 136, 250 hours hard labor attached to what the Judge called the Great Machine. The Judge agreed to put me back in time one month and gave me a few days to accept my responsibilities. He said if I void the agreement, remove the InkNanite, warn myself, or try to get out of my bill, they would get me. Then I would have to serve the entire sentence in an instant of normal space-time.”

Doctor Prod snatched the card from Leroy’s hand and started for the door. “Hey, I am not doing hard time even if it is in my own mind.”

“Your right,” Rebecca said. “Eeny,” she started with herself then moved her hand pointing to each one of the three as she spoke. “Meeny, miny, moe, find a nut let him go.”

At the end, she was pointing at Doctor Prod. She turned and started to walk into the back part of the house.

“No wait,” Leroy said, “His money is real. This is easy enough to check out. Where are you at right now? I mean – the other you. You know what I mean!”

“I think I am in the park by the fountains.” Doctor Prod said, “ Leroy, I am afraid to go look. Plus, when I try to remember what happens in the future it feels … strange. Your wife … it is not very clear.”

“Becca,” Leroy said, “go and check it out. Is Doctor Prod in the park?”

“Now you are both crazy,” Rebecca said, “He is right here. I am not going anywhere. How can he be in the park?”

She touched herself, “Eeny …”

“Becca, just go and look!” Leroy said.

“Mark my words,” Rebecca said, “something stinks and it is not in Denmark!”

She frowned at her husband and left through the front door.

“Leroy,” Doctor Prod said, “do you have the electronics, or do I need 14 and a half tons of pretty glass beads? I am not given Unckiafer any aluminum foil!”

“Yeah, I got a lot of stuff,” Leroy said, “This is going to cost you though.”

“One of the first things I did to test the ETC yesterday I mean – next month, I mean,” Doctor Prod looked very frustrated, “You know what I mean, I think. Anyway, I sent all my cash back in space-time to my bank account. This is how much the interest paid me. I tried again with this money, but it did not work the next time. I think since the interest was made during the time I tried to send it back, and the seed money was being used to make the interest the first time, therefore, the deposit the second time became ZOSO. Or it was nullified and became zero. No more it became like the red dragon, you know something that cannot be known, more like ZOSO, when it went back, maybe. It is hard to understand which nothing is happening. I need to try again with some old real money at least ten years old to send back. Does that make since Leroy? You know, when I think like this it really hurts my head.”

Leroy slapped his hands to his head to cover his ears and said, “Are … are you nuts! You are arguing with yourself about how nothing happens. Can you remember anything important like what the stock market does?” Leroy said.

“The stock market, that is easy. To figure that out you do not have to go back in time. Come on Leroy, I never pay any attention to stuff like that anymore. Those type of people and I parted company a long time ago.” Doctor Prod said, “All I have concentrated on for the last five years is trying to get to the Galactic Internet. All of the answers to all of our questions are there, I am sure.”

“You!” Leroy said as he moved his hands down his face slowly to the end of his chin, “Just be quiet and sit there for a minute or two while I check out this situation.”

“Only if you can show you have some electronics for me, Leroy.”

“You know what you are a class one pain, okay El Medico.” Leroy grabbed his flashy-new B box off its charging plate that was on an antique table in the hall by the door. Then he started to sort through his inventory online. He sat down on a stool used to remove muddy shoes before one moved into the rest of the house. Carefully he selected items he thought had some value, but no one in their right mind would ever buy. Mostly surplus, obsolete, or unique scientific equipment that had no good use for anyone anymore.

Doctor Prod watched Leroy for a few minutes then put the debit card in his pocket. After a while, he pulled out his outmoded B box and said,

“Mind if I use your Wi-Fi to download some newspapers so I can watch the Funnies?”

Leroy did not look up but continued with his selections. “Okay, just do not run up a bill downloading every newspaper in the world. And mind the bandwidth charge!”

After a second or two had passed, Doctor Prod said, “Hey, I have already seen these.”

He sorted through the newspapers that his handheld device had just downloaded into its memory.

He said, “And that one, too. These are not today’s papers. These are all from last month, I already have all of these stored.”

Just as Leroy looked up at the vagabond that sat on his steps, his phone rang.

“Yeah Becca,” Leroy said holding his B box up to his ear and talking into it, “What do you mean it is not him?” Leroy’s gaze remained fixed upon the grimy man. “You did what? Just come on back home.” He took the B box away from his ear and disconnected the call. “Becca says it is not you because you do not have the tattoo.”

“Yeah, she came to the park and tried to rip off my shirt last month, I mean today.” He looked up to Leroy. “Hey, I remember now. She tried to rip off my shirt! I could not remember it clearly until it happened.”

“Look,” Leroy held up his device so the screen could be seen. “She took a picture of you with her B box.”

Doctor Prod glanced up, but as he looked at the picture, he was struck by another strange headache. He wrapped his arms around his now very queasy stomach, and he looked away.

“I do not think they want me to see.” He about dropped his gadget. As he looked away from his picture, the feeling passed as quickly as it started.

“Does that old thing really still work?” Leroy smiled and his voice had a much more pleasant tone to it. “Let me see your B box.”

“I am not given you ZOSO,” Doctor Prod said recoiling from Leroy like he had just seen a snake. “Nothing goes anywhere until, you give me the electronics. Not everybody wants to update their system with the latest stuff all the time. I would rather use an old model whose use I can prefect, over a new system that no one ever knows how to use it all until it has banged around the block a few times. Then once you have modified a device so it works well for you, they have a new better model to sale to you. I would rather just stick with this one. I know it inside and out. I can make it do anything I want.”

Leroy’s demeanor changed and he calmed down, “So, do you download a lot of papers every day to view all the Funnies?”

“You know that I like to, but a mobile connection costs me a lot of money I can use other ways. Most people do not care if you download a paper or two.” he said, “Is that why you would let me download all those papers at your store every day? You set me up so I have the future papers stored on my handheld computer, did not you? All the copies of the next month’s papers for the electronics.” He turned off his gadget, folded up the screen, and put it in his pocket.

Leroy said, “I seem to have misunderstood the whole situation, excuse me. Please, come into the front room and sit down on the sofa. Do you feel well, you are looking a little pale?”

Leroy opened a pair of sliding doors that lead out of the entrance hall and into his parlor. The room looked as if no one had actually been in it for years. It was clean, a little too clean. A room full of old antiques kept cleaned and polished by robots. It was meant to show only, not use by anyone.

“I do not know Leroy,” Doctor Prod said, “I will just get the place dirty. Maybe I should just go …”

Leroy said, “Nonsense. Sit down, can I get you anything? A beer, maybe some brandy, perhaps it will settle your nerves. I sure need a drink after you today.”

Leroy walked over to a fine silver tray on which sat a cut crystal decanter. It was halfway filled with a dark liquid. Next to that sat four cut crystal glasses. The silver tray and fine crystal sat on a beautiful marble-topped coffee table. The highly polished fruitwood base secured the top with gleaming brass hold-downs. Leroy picked up one glass and poured a small amount of the dark liquid into it. He took the drink in one quick quaff. Then poured twice that into another glass and handed it to Doctor Prod. He refilled his with another little nip, and he clinked the crystal glasses together.

“To the future.” He said and took a slight sip and set his glass down. “Drink up, it is bad luck not to drink after a toast.”

Doctor Prod took a sip and sat the glass down, also.

“What is the matter, do not you like good Brandy?” Leroy picked up his glass and took the rest in a small sip. Then he walked over to the window. “Becca should be back in a few.”

Doctor Prod picked up the glass and inhaled the vapors. He looked up. His gaze met Leroy’s in the reflection of the window. Then he took a small sip and looked back at Leroy’s reflection.

Doctor Prod said, “The brandy is fine. I just do not do this anymore.” He set the glass down. “The last time I enjoyed some of this, was about the time I noticed that my equations that predicted the markets were mono-dimensional. When I tried to expand them, that is when everybody got mad. They laughed at me. They said I was crazy. I do not want to have anything to do with them ever again. They said I was wasting my time with things that were not real. They were so wrong! They have no idea what real really is, but I know what is really real.”

Leroy walked over to the decanter and poured himself another little nip. “Yeah … I have to deal with jerks like that all the time, too. You know … nobody understands what a dollar is really worth. A little more?”

Rebecca entered the house through the front door. “I am back! I am telling you they must be twins. It is a scam!”

When she noticed the open pocket doors, she rushed into the parlor, and said, “What are you two doing in here with my antiques? You, get off my Louis XV Beechwood serpentine!”

Doctor Prod jumped up. “See Leroy, it is always like that with people. I should just go away. Maybe I can convince Unckiafer of the idea that the term ‘Acceptable Art’ is an oxymoron. That ought to confuse him for a while. Then maybe, I can get him to take only 10 tons of cheap glass beads.”

“No wait, come out to my office. Becca cannot kick us out of there.” Leroy took Rebecca’s arm, and she let herself be pulled into his embrace. “I am sorry Ms. Babe. I will make it up to you.” He gave her a quick kiss. “I promise. Only right now, we need to do some business. The bots will take care of this mess. So, if you would please excuse us.” He released her and then walked to the hall. “Doctor Prod, this way.”

As Doctor Prod walked by Leroy’s wife, he kept his eye on her and clutched his shirt securely.

Rebecca said “It is your money. The bots will not be able to straighten out everything that happens today. I cannot wait and see what this will cost.”

Leroy and Doctor Prod walked through the house and into the backyard. Leroy walked up a brick path to a few converted steel storage containers. He opened a door that had been cut into the side. A light came on to show that inside was a big modern wooden desk and fine executive chair. To the side of that, there was a nice leather couch and low glass-topped coffee table. Across from those were some mirror lined shelving with quite a few rare bound books and a small wet bar. The rest of the walls had been paneled and the floor was carpeted.

Leroy sat down at his desk. He placed his B box in a charging station that looked like a small dragon. Its sharp talons grasped the small device. It reared its head back and roared. Then it glared at the small box with glowing red eyes. The B box lets out a meager beep and started to synchronize all of its new data with Leroy’s much larger permanent database.

“Please sit down and make yourself comfortable. Hey, I will let you piggyback on my system to update your permanent database if you like.”

“No thank you, Leroy,” he said, “I have had to modify my system more than a little to deal with it being in different types of space-time. I do not think your system has the bandwidth required to handle running my rather unique applications. Do not misunderstand me, Leroy, I could convert everything over to your system. Then it would have no trouble at all, but for now, this is my main database.”

“Are you sure? You know what they say, back-up as often as you can, suit yourself,” Leroy said, “I do not trust these things any farther than I can throw one. Do you know how many times I lost documents when the brainless thing dies because of something stupid like the Lunar Data Trunk and the Tel-Star Net Link are out of alignment?”

“My data is safe. Come on, Leroy stop it. Let us just get on with this deal. I need to make some arrangements. This whole thing has left me feeling more than a bit queasy.”

“Sure, here is the list I am working on for you Doctor Prod.” Leroy turned the system screen so that both men could see it. “The grand total so far is $24, 147.29. I am still short a little. I have never before had to make a deal based purely on weight. Do you think I should include the weight of the containers? I bet your Aliens would like playing in the boxes.”

“Very funny, no way.” He looked to Leroy. “As to the money, what is the value in reading tomorrow’s paper today? Hey, where is this stuff?”

“Most of this equipment is in a big warehouse I rent space in downtown near the train yard.” Leroy was entering data madly at his terminal. “Some of this is in the Store. Those assets the bots are transferring to the warehouse right now as we speak. I am having it all assembled in a common delivery point in the warehouse. That way it can all be palletized and shipped anywhere in the world. Where do you want this stuff shipped?” He said as he looked up to his now new business partner.

“I do not quite know. I need to get to the shipping point in the warehouse and get the items in my possession. Then I will try to get Unckiafer to take this junk and leave me alone for awhile.”

Much later, Doctor Prod stood looking at the pile of assembled crates and boxes full of surplus equipment that sat on the floor in a back corner of the warehouse. He looked back to the list on Leroy’s B box just to check the total weight again, and said, “I hope Unckiafer will take this junk.”

Leroy said, “I have come through for you. You must now show me just what it is that I am buying from you. Then I will let you take possession.”

“Okay, I will add you to the access list.” Doctor Prod took out and fumbled with his device a second or two. Then he selected one of the papers that had been loaded in the memory the day he had first turned on his apparatus. As the headline, “Volcano Makes Loudest Recorded Sound in History”, appeared he selected the first story without looking at his unit. Next, he held the screen up so Leroy could view part of the first article from his handheld device that he clutched onto tightly. Then he returned to the crate he was looking at before he was interrupted. This crate and a few of the others gave him such a strange feeling. Was this real Déjà Vu? They were part of a shipment of seismic equipment that was supposed to be sent but never made it to Sumatra. What was it about Sumatra? He touched the crate and fell to his knees as one of the new sudden headaches overpowered him. Leroy went for the handheld gadget, but the queasy feeling passed and Doctor Prod stood up straight. He pulled his hand away from Leroy.

Leroy said, “I just did not want our investment to hit the floor.”

Doctor Prod put his B box back in his pocket. “I think Unckiafer is trying to call me.” He thumped his chest a few times where the Mandelbrot blot was attached to his body.

“Hey, Unckiafer, I have your wampum! Are you there?” Leroy slowly moved away from the pile of boxes and crates on the floor.

“Please stop thumping on the InkNanite you foul ill-mannered heathen,” Unckiafer said.

Leroy moved further away from Doctor Prod after he heard the strange sounds and the voice that came from the inkblot tattoo.

“Oh, this is way too much.” Unckiafer said, “We were completely unprepared for this obvious gift to make up for your faux pas. It will take only a minute or two for us to recalibrate our system, though.

Doctor Prod said, “No, you cannot have everything in this warehouse Unckiafer. This is a common building. You only get these goods here on the floor in front of me.”

When Doctor Prod looked over to Leroy, he was looking at the closest door.

Doctor Prod said, “If you take the other things you would be stealing them.”

“I see. Are you trying to involve me in a crime so I have to stand trial there? Shallow, very shallow. Okay then, you touch the items you have gathered.” Unckiafer said, “We shall see if you have met the requirements.”

Doctor Prod touched a prepackaged crate containing all the components for an outdated Wide Area Network system and it vanished. Leroy moved closer to the door to watch the transaction. Doctor Prod started to touch the next box, but once more fell to his knees. “What is it Unckiafer, you trying to make me genuflect to you?”

“Fool, it is way too late for that!” Unckiafer said. “I think you might find you are suffering from ETC paradox sickness though.” This time when Unckiafer’s untranslated voice said ETC only Leroy tried to scratch the inside of his ear. Doctor Prod only flinched at the bothersome sounds. “It comes from you trying to put all those countless possibilities in such a tiny head. It is one of the hazards of displacement in space-time.”

From his knees, Doctor Prod said, “Paradox sickness?”

“I am not a physician-philosopher. I cannot explain it to you. I do know that no one has ever died from it though. Can we just get on with this transaction? Nothing personal, but I hope never to see, hear, nor even think about you filthy uncouth barbarians for as long as I shall ever live. Look, either you show me the goods, or I shall be gleefully obliged to see you are forced to pay your debt the correct and proper way.”

Leroy opened the door behind him but continued to watch. Doctor Prod put his hand on a pallet of plain business computer cases and power supplies to steady himself. When it vanished, he was left with no support and fell face first to the floor. Leroy rushed over to him and propped him up against the wall. From his nose was a slight trickle of blood.

“You are a total jerk Unckiafer!” Leroy said as he softly slapped the now semiconscious man a couple of times on the cheeks trying to bring him back to full consciousness.

Finally, Leroy repeatedly whacked the man who was still very groggy on the chest over the InkNanite a few times.

Leroy said, “Hey, you still want this stuff Unckiafer or what?”

“Would you please stop that?” Unckiafer said, “Just show me the items so we can end this madness.”

“No wait, Leroy!” Doctor Prod tried to move near one of the crates, but his stomach heaved, and he fought to control the bitter bile that wanted to escape his body, and he said, “Do not let him have, any of the seismic equipment.”

With each pause, Doctor Prod had to swallow back the excess drool in his mouth.

Doctor prod said, “Sumatra … The Volcano … Leroy let him do anything, to me he wants.”

He struggled to keep back the contents of his protesting stomach.

Finally, he looked into Leroy’s eyes, “I … I can smell, all the rotting bodies, of the volcano’s dead …” He convulsed once more then he lay still, slowly breathing on the floor.

“Oh, bravo!” Unckiafer said, “That is some act, but I have watched better drama from hungry pre-schoolers. I am totally unimpressed. Is this an attempt to tell me you do not have the goods?”

“You heard the man,” Leroy said, “You cannot have the seismic equipment. Wait a minute and I will get you as much outdated junk as you want.”

“Junk! Is that what you think we are trading? Junk! I am not the garbage man! That negates the entire deal.” Unckiafer said, “Goodbye and good riddance.”

The Mandelbrot blot began to glow from under the shirt on the man who now laid face-up on the floor.

A snooty voice said, “You have been warned, yet you still chose this path. Now you must accept your responsibilities our way.”

“No, wait,” Leroy said, “You cannot break a deal like that. I have all the surplus you want. It is not really junk. It is prime unused equipment. I am the one who broke this deal. You have to take me!”

A very pale Doctor Prod reached into his pocket, grabbed and then threw his B box computer at Leroy.

He licked his lips, and said, “It is okay. I … I guess … I should have gone … for the glass beads.”

The nauseous reek of millions of pounds of rotting flesh assaulted his senses again. Racked by convulsions two more times, he ended up on his side. Clear glistening fluid gushed from his lips to the floor. He rolled onto his back. Now he lay motionless, slowly breathing and staring blankly at the ceiling, waiting.

He said in a whisper, “I will fix, everything Leroy. You will see.”

Leroy ripped open the shirt covering the InkNanite. Then he glared at it as it slowly glowed brighter and the outline of Doctor Prod’s body became harder to distinguish.

“Unckiafer, I will crawl from every star to every other star in the whole Universe to find you, just to spit in your eye!”

Leroy was left staring at the pool of warm drool on the shining floor.