Picture, if you will, a deserted strip of highway, just on the
outskirts of Atlantic City. Normally, this road would be buzzing
with traffic. Today, however, only one vehicle is apparent. This
is easily explained as we note the sign beside it, which says,
"Atlantic City, Pop. 314,159" and the sign tacked on the bottom,
which reads, "Closed for repairs". The vehicle we do see is a
way-post-modern-looking thing which would have turned James Bond
green with envy. Its titanium-black underside shows no tires. In
fact, no part of the vehicle appears to even touch the ground. Its
windows reflect a gold-tinted reflection of the surroundings,
hiding its interior. The upper body is bluish-white, and better
streamlined than a formula racer. What appears to be a kangaroo in
a blue dress is leaning against the side, while a human in a
cream-colored uniform and black flak jacket sits cross-legged atop
of it. All three gaze on the city before them, unaware of the
military vehicles drawing up behind. We go now into the approaching
autocannon, where a weasel (otter?) has just noticed the people
ahead.
Tan: Finestkind! Erma! We got company!
Erma: What? Oh, Khai! Who ELSE is i on this? (over comm) All
vehicles, full stop! (to Tan) I'm going out there and
find out what's going on. Cover me!
Back to our two in repose. As they continue meditating on the
city, they fail to notice the cat in full battle dress approaching.
She stops behind the kangaroo.
Erma: Ahem! (The kangaroo gives a start, looks back... and
down) Are you... ah... with Starfleet?
Adelaide: Pardon me?
Erma: Starfleet. There are two Starfleet crafts in orbit. We
just came down from one of them to liberated this city.
Adelaide: This city?
Erma: (Checks the sign. She WON'T make the same mistake
twice!) Yes, this city. The ILR have taken it,
apparently with very little trouble. Which means it will
be almost impossible to liberate it without leveling it.
So back to my question. Are you with Starfleet?
Arthur: (now breaking in) No, we aren't. We're with the
Confederacy.
Erma: (gapes in astonishment) You... ConFed? (takes a step
back) No! Impossible! Her maybe, you... no. Never!
Arthur: No, not ConFed! You're thinking of the Confederation.
We're with the Vegan Interstellar Confe... (Pauses.
Realization dawns) You...you wouldn't be Erma Felna,
would you? (Erma's jaw drops. She clamps it shut, but
the revelation is confirmed) You ARE! Adelaide, it's
Erma! I TOLD you she'd show up!
Adelaide: Kilroy, chill! No need to go announcing their arrival to
the whole city. They might be attempting a covert
invasion, you know.
Arthur: Oh. Yeah, right, of course. (to Erma) Sorry, I just got
a bit overexcited. Uh, perhaps we should introduce
ourselves. I'm Arthur Kilroy, Confederate Xenologist.
This is Cshingtlae Ol...
Adelaide: Kilroy, this is NOT the time for introductions. We're
not even supposed to be crossing over in this story!
Arthur: Adelaide, what's done is done. We may as well go through
with the whole thing.
Adelaide: We will NOT! This story is supposed to END with this
installment. You want to do your...
Erma: Would one of you PLEASE tell me what's going on here?!
Adelaide and Arthur look at each other. Arthur shrugs.
Adelaide: We were just on our way out of here when the rabbits
showed up. We had over a hundred people in the group,
including about forty Altairets [Altairets = inhabitants
from Altair]. When the rabbits started cracking down,
most of the Altairets panicked and disappeared into the
sewer system. We got everyone else out all right.
They're back on the ship now.
Erma: So why are you sitting around out here?
Adelaide: We're coordinating a search-and-extract. We have our
chief Altairet officer searching the sewers, and a
Traednart trying to spot them from the air. Hopefully,
we can get everyone out with no trouble.
Arthur: Uhm, Adelaide, perhaps we could ask tehm to help us?
Adelaide: (warning tone) Kilroy!
Arthur: Nothing major. Just keep an eye out for little shaggy
critters with crazy hairdos, call us if they spot any.
Adelaide: I don't know. I think we're cutting it pretty close
already.
Arthur: Seriously, Adelaide! How much more can it hurt?
Adelaide: (sighs) I don't like it, but... (to Erma) what do you
think?
Erma: Well, it seems reasonable enough to me, um... you said
they were in the sewer?
Arthur: They were. They could be anywhere now. They like narrow
service ducts. Aqueducts, ventilation, the spaces above
ceiling tiles... Anywhere too narrow for anyone else.
Erma: I see... Um... do you think, before we send them out,
we might... they could maybe assist us?
Adelaide looks at Arthur. Arthur looks at Adelaide. An
eyebrow arches. An ear tilts. An agreement seems in order.
Back on the Enterprise D, another revelation takes shape as
Data notes a new presence on the scanner.
Data: Captain! There appears to be another ship orbiting the
planet.
Kirk: What? Another ship? On screen! (screen flips to a
starry background. A small portion of Earth fills the
right edge) All right. So where is it?
Data: In the middle of the screen, sir. It is still too far to
see unaided. Would you like for me to magnify the image?
Kirk: (jaw drops. He catches it just in time, puts it back) By
all means! Full magnification! (muttering) Androids!
Screen changes to a close-up, showing a ship the likes of
which should not be seen until the twenty-eight century in yet
another universe.
Kirk: Now, who the hell is that!?
Data: Running record search. (pause 5 seconds) Captain,
exhaustive search reveals no match of target craft to
anything known to exist in Starfleet at any time.
Kirk: Terrific. Well, what about, ah, the EDF?
Data: There is not enough information for a positive answer,
but the ship seems to represent a design philosophy far
less practical than the EDF. It's much like our own in
that respect.
Kirk: Then how about the ILR?
Data: Samer case as the EDF.
Kirk: Heinlein?
Data: There is considerably more room for speculation there,
but I rather doubt it.
Kirk: Vogon, then?
Data: Captain, even from here you can see it is far too clean!
Worf: Captain, the ship is hailing us. There is video.
Kirk: All right. Put them on the screen.
Monitor switches to a view of the newcomer's bridge.
Captain's chair is occupied by another kangaroo, this one
slate-blue with blue-violet zebra stripes.
Kirk: This is Captain James... T... Kirk of the USS
Enterprise... Who are you and what
is-your-business-here?
Laitraeut: I am Lieutenant Commander Laitraeut, currently
commanding the CSC Excalibur. Our captain is
planetside at the moment, just outside Atlantic
City.
Kirk: And what.... is he doing there?
Laitraeut: SHE is coordinating a search for several missing
crewmembers. They got separated when the ILR moved
in. We had intended to be gone before you arrived.
Now, however, it seems our missing crew is to
assist your invasion party if they happen to meet.
Kirk: Then... You... are here to help... us?
Laitraeut: Not our original intent, but yes, under the
circumstances. It looks like you're going to need
it. We go to the Romulan bridge. The helmsman has
just noticed the new arrival.
Helmsman: Captain, another ship is approaching. Type and
origin unidentified.
Captain: Is it aware of our presence?
Helmsman: It does not appear so. It is not powering up
defenses.
Comm: Captain, the new ship is communicating with the
Enterprise D!
Captain: On audio!
Kirk: (over comm) Well, do you have any suggestions?
Laitraeut: (over comm) At teh moment, none. The best we can
do now is sit back and wait.
Captain: So... the new ship is assisting our enemies!
Lieutenant: Captain, would it not be wise to attack now?
Captain: No, you fool! There are too many, too strong yet.
We will wait until the battle is done planetside.
Then we will attack. We will knock out the weapons
of the Enterprise D first, then attack the
Excalibur. They don't even know of us, and will
not respond until it is too late. Then, when we
have done with them, we will finish the undefended
Enterprise A!
Lieutenant: Amazing, Captain! You're a military genius!
Captain: Ah, but of course!
We go now into the bowels of Atlantic City, where a blue box
resembling a telephone booth has discreetly materialized beside a
Pepsi machine. The door opens and a line of security personnel
files out, much like the clown car at a circus. They notice the
Pepsi machine and gather around it, credits at the ready. The
Doctor and Romana step out, see the machine surrounded by security.
Doctor: Choice of the Next Generation. I still prefer Jelly
Babies.
Romana: Doctor! What do you suppose those people are doing?
Doctor: (follows Romana's gesture, sees crowd gathered at the
base of a nearby skyscraper) Let's find out, shall we?
They start off, stop short at hte sound of an explosion behind
them. Turn to see the Pepsi machine with the front blown off.
Bits of red matorial and smoking body parts are scattered all over.
Doctor: An ILR trap. I warned them to go back to Coke. Oh,
well, let's carry on.
They arrive at the edge of the crowd. Doctor gets one
gentleman's attention.
Doctor: Hello, old chap, what's up?
Gentleman: See for yourself. (Gestures upwards. D & R look
up to see a large, white four-armed creature
standing atop the building)
Doctor: Ah, yes...
Romana: Doctor? What IS it?
Doctor: It's a Traednart. Descendants of Antareans
stranded long ago in the Traeda system. Rather a
complicated story, actually. Come on, let's find
out what she's doing! (drags the reluctant Romana
into the building)
Atop the skyscraper, Tula is searching the landscape for
something she alone can see. Enter the Doctor and Romana.
Doctor: Hello, how's the view? (Tula looks down at the two) Oh,
yes. I'm the Doctor, and this is my companion, Romana.
Would you care for a jelly baby? (holds up the familiar
bag)
Tula: Shertainry! Thank you! (takes bag and proceeds to
munch) Mm... odd fravor. Don't care for the sherurose
covering. The shenter'zh good.
Doctor: (unperturbed) What's your name, by the way? And what
brings you to Atlantic City?
Tula: Name is Tula. It'sh a rong shtory. Right now, I'm
trying to find shome mishing crewmemberzh. You wrouldn't
have seen them, wrould you? Artairetsh, fuzhy, about
thish tall?
Doctor: Mmm, no, I'm afraid not. We just got here ourselves.
Tula: Hmmm... (returns to search)
Romana: (pulling Doctor aside) Doctor, why is she looking for
them from way up here? She couldn't POSSIBLY see
something that small on the the ground!
Doctor: No, but Altairets stay in groups, fairly easy to spot at
a distance, and it's best to look from as high up as
possible, because they could be in the sewers or way up
in one of the buildings.
Romana: But if they're in one of those buildings, how could she
ever expect to find them?
Doctor: Well, the Traednart are optically sensitive to a range of
brain-wave patterns. They can actually see... Hello,
what's this? (they turn back to Tula, who is speaking
into a communicator)
Tula: Yesh, I think I shee shomething near the north shide. It
looksh like them... More than anything elshe I've
sheen... Right... Yesh, I'm going to try for a crosher
rook. (puts comm away, prepares to leap off building)
Doctor: Wait! (Tula pauses, looks back) Where are you going?
Tula: The Artairetsh. I think I shee shome up on the north
shide. I'm going for a better rook.
Romana: Well, do you think you could take us along? We seem to
have lost our party.
Tula: (considers) Rokay! Here, crimb up on my shourders.
(helps them up, crouches to spring) Hang on!
With a mighty leap, Tula clears the height of a somewhat
taller building nearby. She takes two running steps and leaps over
to a lower building. She falls short of the roof and begins
slipping down the smooth glass side. Desperately, she digs her
feet against the windows to slow the slide. The glass gives way
and shatters. Tula cries out in pain.
Elsewhere in the city, we find Erma's team fighting ILR
troops. It's a hard battle, but the EDF and the rapidly dwindling
redshirts are slowly gaining ground. Focus in on Erma as an
emergency call comes in on the commlink.
Erma: Felna here. Go ahead.
Arthur: (over link) Erma, this is Kilroy. We've got a problem
over on Twenty-third Street. Tula slipped on a
skyscraper. She's clinging to the side, and her feet are
bleeding profusely. Apparently she cut them trying to
stop.
Erma: What do you need? Can she not get down on her own?
Arthur: Not without falling. We need an aerial rescue, and the
only thing that can do it is your aerodyne. One other
thing: she's carrying the Doctor and Romana.
Erma: The Doctor? What about his unit?
Arthur: There was a booby-trapped Pepsi machine. I guess the
Choice of a New Generation wiped out the Next Generation.
Erma: (okay, she doesn't QUITE follow, but they're probably out
of action) All right. I'll send Toki over. What's their
position?
Bridge of the Excalibur: Laitraeut sits in the captain's chair,
pondering the approaching ships. A bird-like creature looks up
from her post.
Arcturan: Commander! Mass-detector readings indicate a fifth
ship in that group!
Laitraeut: A fifth ship? There's only four ships visible!
Arcturan: Mass detectors indicate a fifth center of mass
somewhere in the same vicinity.
Laitraeut: Do other sensors confirm?
Arcturan: No, only the mass detectors. The readings do not
seem to be in error, however.
Laitraeut: Can they pinpoint it?
Arcturan: No, the actual position seems to fluctuate, as
though something is interfering. The mass itself
remains constant.
Laitraeut: Mmmm... Hail the Enterprise D.
Aboard the Enterprise D...
Worf: Captain, the Excalibur is hailing us.
Kirk: On screen. (Laitraeut appears on the monitor) What
is it, Commander?
Laitraeut: Captain, our mass detectors indicate the presence
of a fifth ship in your vicinity. The readings
seem to be obscured and none of the other sensors
confirm, but we believe there may be some massive
object, somehow concealed, nearby.
Kirk: You mean invisible? Cloaked?
Laitraeut: If that is possible. The readings are vague, but
we are certain that they are correct. Could
something be, ah... cloaked, somewhere nearby?
Kirk: (to himself) Damn! They didn't buy it after all!
(to Laitraeut) Yes, it's definitely possible, and I
can assure you, they're not friendly!
Laitraeut: What should we do about it?
Kirk: Nothing we can do, until they decide to show
themselves. Just hope by then it's not too late.
On the Romulan bridge, the crew has just heard the last line.
Lieutenant turns on Captain.
Lieutenant: Now they know we're here! We should have destroyed
that ship the moment we saw it! We must attack,
NOW, before they can fully prepare!
Captain: No, we do not. Let them sit in suspense. Even
with their mass detectors, they would have to run
into us. Make them wait, and the tension will wear
them down. Time favors us, Lieutenant. Now and
for all ages.
Once again in the midst of Atlantic City we find Erma's
embattled brigade making considerable progess against the ILR. The
rabbits suddenly retreat across an intersection, rallying on the
other side. The EDF and security pursue, but freeze halfway across
as the wail of a siren pierces the air.
Erma: Damn! What is it NOW?
Soldier: Look! Up there!
All look up to see three pincer-shaped craft descending upon
the EDF/security forces. The ships are black, their edges outlined
in glowing red, Encom inscribed on one leg, ACPD on the other, both
also in neon.
Erma: Isn't that going a little too far?
The recognizers land. Police in exotic, neon-trimmed body
armor emerge and herd Erma and company into them. The recognizers
lift off. We join Erma in one...
Erma: I don't get it. We chased those rabbits across seven
intersections. Why didn't these things catch up to us
earlier?
Tan: (looking out window) 'Ey! Erma! (pulls her up beside
him) You think that mean something?
Erma looks down at the intersection they've just left. On it
is painted a picture of a policeman, below it the words: "Go to
Jail".
Above the city we follow the progress of one lone D-10 as it
approaches Twenty-third Street. Inside, Toki is superficially
steering it.
Computer: Target sighted. Final approach on your mark.
Toki: That's her? Khai, she's HUGE! How big IS she, anyway?
Computer: Body length roughly 5.4 meters.
Toki: Khai! Can we get her in here?
Computer: Through the rear entrance, yes. Best to carry her on top
for now, though. Still awaiting your mark.
Toki: Oh, right! Four... three... two... one... mark!
The D-10 moves in close to the skyscraper. The Doctor and
Romana coax Tula to step over. She obeys, whimpering as her feet
press against the metal. She lies down and gets a grip on the top,
and Toki starts off to the hospital.
Rooftop of ATlantic City Memorial: The D-10 homes in and lands on
a helipad that was never designed for an aerodyne. Emergency
personnel rush to assist the injured Traednart. A black-suited
gentleman carrying a black-suited briefcase confronts Toki as she
steps out of the pilot's hatch.
Gentleman: Are you the one who landed this vehicle here?
Toki: Well, ah... yes, I...
Gentleman: (handing her the briefcase) This is yours, then.
Congratulations!
Toki: What??
Gentleman: You have landed in the Free Parking Zone.
Accordingly, you have been awarded the Free Parking
Jackpot. Go ahead! Open it!
Toki opens the briefcase. Inside are stacks of thousands.
Toki removes one; examines it, bewildered.
Gentleman: That's three-quarters of a million dollars. You're
lucky. You made the first take this year. That's
usually the biggest.
Toki nods and replaces the stack. In a daze, she closes the
briefcase and follows the orderlies carrying Tula into the service
elevator.
We find ourselves on that lonesome highway once more. A
cellular phone rings, is answered.
Arthur: Hello?... Erma?? Why are you using the phone?... WHAT?!
In JAIL?!... Jeez!.. This is insane!!... Okay, okay, what
do we need to do?... Uh huh... yeah... okay, right... No,
Toki's still at the hospital. She was mumbling something
about a jack-in-the-box... I don't know, she didn't sound
too coherent... Yeah, all right. I'll have her pick you
up there... Okay... 'bye! (hangs up)
Adelaide: What are they doing in jail?
Athur: (dialing) Oh, about what you'd be doing, I imagine.
Adelaide: Mmm... No, Erma didn't strike me as the type. Toki,
maybe, not Erma. (notices Arthur dialing) Uh, Kilroy?
Just who are you calling?
Arthur: (stops dialing, looks at the phone as though he's just
discovered it, then reaches in for the commlink) And Kirk
thinks HE has problems!
Deep in the sewer system, the REAL bowels of Atlantic City, we
find a critter somewhere between a dog and a monkey making his/her
way towards a distant, familiar sound, which he/she has been
following for the last half hour. Three similar beings suddenly
emerge from the shadows.
Altekos: (translated) Elturi! Ulniarev! Where are teh rest?
Ulniarev: In voice range. Are we pulling out?
Altekos: Not yet. We've been asked to assist the EDF. They're
here to get rid of the rabbits.
Elturi: We've been working on that stuff already. We've been
sabotaging stuff all over. Still no luck in finding the
base, but it can't stay hidden forever.
Altekos: Well, they need more direct help. They got caught in the
Go to Jail Zone, and I need not tell you where they are
now.
Unnamed Altairet: They need us to bust them out?
Altekos: Right. Are we going to do it? (all nod) Then let's
move!
Altairets begin pouring into the tunnel. After a few moments
of confusion, the group proceeds as one towards the jailhouse.
Toki is back in the pilot's seat, all systems ready to go.
Toki: How are you back there?
Doctor: (over comm) A bit cramped. It will do, though.
Toki: How about those feet, Tulie? Think you'll be okay?
Tula: I'm fine, thank you.
Toki: Okay, everybody, I got a tip from someone down in the
admitting office. I know where the ILR base is, but
we're going to have to pick up Erma's squad at the
jailhouse. Then we're off to Trump Towers!
The D-10 lifts into the air and is on its way.
Back aboard the Enterprise D, Captain Kirk and Commander
Laitraeut are discussing dilemmas.
Kirk: So you still can't pinpoint the Romulans?
Laitraeut: No. Captain, I know this must be starting to look
ridicolous...
Kirk: Not at all! The Romulans are some of the best at
the cat-and-mouse game. They could sit there for
days, waiting for just the right moment.
Aboard the Romulan craft, this time no one is really paying
attention to the monitored conversation.
Captain: Bring us below the Enterprise, about fifteen kliks.
Lieutenant: Captain, that will bring us dangerously close to
the Excalibur.
Captain: They don't even know where we are! They may as
well be totally blind! Blind!
Lieutenant: But Captain!
Captain: Do not argue! Take us below the Enterprise!
Back on the Enterprise D...
Kirk: And they haven't found Spock yet?
Laitraeut: No, they haven't. Of course, they were all engaged
in fairly heated battle, so a lot could have been
overlooked.
Kirk: What's this about them being in jail, anyway?
Laitraeut: I don't know. Commander Kilroy said Atlantic City
was the model for some ancient game, but what all
that means I don't quite comprehend.
Kirk: What about Trump? How big an obstacle do you think
he'll be?
Laitraeut: Well, I imagine that all depends on...
A loud CLANG! suddenly overpowers the audio. Commotion erupts
on the Excalibur's bridge.
Laitraeut: Helm! Report!
Helmsman: Something struck us to starboard!
Laitraeut: What was it? How big?
Helmsman: It must have been a starship or an asteroid! But
there's NOTHING out there for twenty kliks!
Laitraeut: (realizing the situation) All missiles to
starboard! FIRE!!
Kirk: External view!
Screen switches to outside view of the Excalibur. Missiles
are launching and heading around to the ship's starboard side.
They explode directly beside the ship against what appears to be
empty space... until it decloaks.
Kirk: Worf! Fire all phasers!
Worf: With pleasure, Captain! (phasers lance out and pump
power into the bird of prey until it vaporizes. Broad
grin) I LOVE to do that!
The Atlantic City Police Department. The Altairets have
infiltrated and are quietly taking over. In one cell, EDF and
security look on, bored, as uncounscious guards are dragged one by
one into an empty cell. Altekos appears, brandishing a ring of
keys.
Altekos: All right. Think all is. (unlocks the cell) Now go.
Step what like know doing. And weapons not pull! Not
until Towers at. Remember!
Troops file out, exit to Reception area. A policeman enters
from the front.
Policeman: Chief, you're not gonna believe this! This big
cigar-shaped thing just landed right out front!
Chief: So? Probably something else those crazy rabbits...
A noise from the back. The chief turns to see the emerging
"prisoners."
Chief: Hey! Who the hell let them out?! Sound the alarm!
GUARDS!
The police mobilize, start to surround the troops. Suddenly
about thirty Altairets appear from vents, under desks, inside
wastebaskets and file cabinets. The police is quickly overrun.
Altekos: Come on! Dyne outside waiting! Move! Move!
Everyone, EDF, security and Altairets storm the front door,
spill down the steps and pile into the 'dyne. Groaning under the
weight, the D-10 lifts and starts towards Trump Towers.
Once again, we visit our friends on the highway. Arthur and
Adelaide have broken out supplies and are just finishing a picnic.
A call comes...
Erma: (over comm) Thularnicsha, this is Echo 1. Acknowledge?
Arthur: Vif iv Fuwar... (swallows) This is Thularnicsha. Good to
hear your voice again, Erma! You have everyone on board?
Erma: All present, though I'm glad I'm up front. I don't know
how they're all fitting back there. We're on our way to
the Towers now.
Arthur: Tell us when you're done and we'll come get our crew at
the rendezvous point. Kilroy out.
Adelaide: So it's just about done, eh?
Arthur: It's not over yet. Trump Towers may be the hardest
battle yet. Of course, it could have been worse.
Adelaide: What do you mean?
Arthur: I saw a list of the rabbits the ILR was trying to
recruit. They were after Bugs Bunny, Roger Rabbit, Usagi
Yojimbo, Nilson Groundthumper, Cutey Bunny, Snobuni,
Captain Carrot, Ensign Radon, even Peter Cottontail, do
you believe that?
Adelaide: Arthur? Why are you telling me all this?
Arthur: It was the only way we could get their names into the
story.
Adelaide: (droops one ear. To audience) Usually, I'm the one with
the punch lines.
Picard and Ruby are in bed, state of dress self-evident.
Picard is finishing off another lollipop. Ruby is on the intercom
with Trump.
Ruby: Okay, Donny, but what about Spock? Haven't you come to
an agreement yet?
Trump: Look, Ruby, baby, I'm sorry but he just won't bite. I
can't get him to take anything less than a full surrender
of the ILR forces.
Ruby: Now, Donny, you know what I have to say about that! He's
just going to have to settle for something else! Now you
get him to cooperate or we'll just have to gain his favor
the ILR way!
Trump: (resigned. He has no control anymore) Okay, I'll see what
I can do. (signs off)
Picard: Mister Spock can be a difficult customer.
Ruby: Yes. I'm tempted to "repatriate" him on general
principles. We could use his mental faculties.
Picard: That could be a serious mistake. He's not... (intercom
buzzes)
Ruby: Just a second. (answering) General Ruby.
Rabbit: (over intercom) General, the EDF have escaped from jail.
The D-10 is airlifting them here now.
Ruby: How did they get out? We had a full guard in that
building!
Rabbit: We're not sure, we can't get any word from them. We're
checking it out now, but what about the 'dyne?
Ruby: Let them land. Keep to recall order omega. And sit
tight. Ruby out.
Picard: I thought you had the situation under control.
Ruby: Not to worry, Jeannot. They may land, but this building
is the most secure place in the city. We have
booby-traps everywhere. They'll never get down to our
level. Speaking of which...?
Picard: (grins, clears throat) Mmm... perhaps another drink
first?
Trump's private office. Aside from the two armed rabbits guarding
the door and the Vulcan-like rabbit (rabbit-like Vulcan?) sitting
before the desk, everything looks quite ordinary. Trump sits
behind the desk, his wind-blown face oozing charm. Our
rabbit-eared Spock is unimpressed.
Trump: Now, Mister Spock, you must understand my situation. I
would be delighted to consider your proposal, but with
the ILR currently, ah, managing my account, I can't
simply transfer it to you.
Spock: That problem should be solved soon enough. The EDF would
have arrived several hours ago. I imagine the ILR forces
will be subdued quite soon.
Trump: Well, now, perhaps, perhaps not. Locked away here, with
no access to information, you really have no way of
knowing.
Sounds of a struggle are suddenly heard through the door. Gun
shots quickly follow. Several bullets rip through the door. One
neatly returns Spock's ear to normal.
Trump: Then again, on the other hand...
The door bursts open, flattening one guard behind it. The
other whirls about to face the intruders. A massive white paw
smacks him across the room and through the far wall. Toki looks
in, sees Spock.
Toki: Oh, it's you. (over her shoulder) We found Spock!
Thanks for the assist, Tulie.
Tula: Rranytime.
Trump: I suppose you're here to back up Mr. Spock's proposal?
Toki: Proposal?
Spock: I suggested that Mr. Trump may find it to his advantage
to deal with us rather than the ILR. He has not shown
much enthusiasm.
Trump: Spock, you must understand. I can't simply... change
agents in mid-negotiation! I agreed to deal with the
ILR. They might get a little angry if I change my mind.
And angry ILR are dangerous!
Spock: Perhaps, then, your best choice would be to transfer
ownership to us. We can then deal with the ILR
ourselves, and you are safely on the sidelines.
Trump: You mean GIVE you my empire?? (chuckles) Sorry, Spock
old man, but we just don't do it that way in the
twentieth century. (pauses, as a new scheme unfolds in
his mind) Of course... I might be willing to PLAY you
for it.
Spock: What game?
Trump: Oho! Not so fast. Not without a hundred thousand.
Cash. Up front.
Spock: Mmm... well, perhaps... I think I can secure the funds
by 5:23:16 PM tomorrow.
Trump: Now or never, old man. Ah, perhaps I could advance you
a loan... with your ship as collateral?
Toki has been following this in a state of mild bewilderment.
Suddenly something clicks.
Toki: (holding up briefcase) Uh, Hon. Trump? You wouldn't mean
dollars, would you?
Trump: What? Oh! yes, of... course...
With businesslike speed, Trump takes the case, sets it on the
desk and opens it. He catches the denomination, runs a quick
calculation, and finds himself suddenly short of breath. Though
his holdings are a thousand times greater, this case is more than
even the great Trump has seen at one time in cash. Very gently, he
closes the case and hands it back. He draws a breath, lets it go.
Slowly.
Trump: Let... the games... begin!
Ruby's suite. The lights are low now, and shadows conceal our
scheming lovers. However, they do not conceal the voices of
unbridled passion. Nor do they hide the commotion which erupts
outside. The door bursts open. Several seconds of confusion pass
until someone flips on the lights. EDF troops surround the bed,
Erma directly at the foot.
Erma: All right! Drop all...
Her voice fades off as she realizes what she's looking at.
Ruby and Picard, a little less than half under the covers, with no
question of what was going on.
Ruby: Well, I THOUGHT we had traps set.
Picard: (sighs) The best-laid plans of rabbits and men.
Erma: (not quite as bold in the light) Do, ahm... do you
surrender?
Picard: It seems we already have.
Erma stares at Picard. A small giggle breaks loose. A
chuckle follows. Finally, Erma collapses in fits of helpless,
hysterical laughter which looks as though it will last a while.
Everyone else looks on, puzzled, and just a little embarrassed.
The second subbasement of Trump Towers has been converted into
the ILR's central control center. Rabbits are everywhere,
operating terminals, taking calls, toting hardcopy. We follow one
rabbit carrying a package through a dorrway tucked back where no
one notices. He enters a dimly lit room, and carries his bundle to
a massive heap of formless grey material. He empties the bag just
as we see three Altairets emerge from a vent in the far wall. They
slide up behind him. Altekos puts a gun to his head.
Allamondoratherool: (unperturbed) Yes?
Altekos: Call not. This way.
They lead him to the wall, gesture him to sit. Allamon obeys.
Altekos: Now, what doing?
Allamon: Just disposing of some plastique. I've been removing
traps from all over town. I think I got them all...
except for a Pepsi machine on twenty-third street.
Altekos: (nods towards pile) Plastique is?
Allamon: Yes.
Altekos: Is amount considerable.onsiderable.í
Allamon: Yes.
Altekos: Dangerous is. Base next door.
Allamon: (shrugs) Of course.
Altekos: (a pause) You ILR not.
Allamon: (offended) ILR? Me?
Some rapid ultrasonic conversation passes among the Altairets.
That is what they sound like when NOT translated.
Altekos: How soon?
Allamon: (checking watch) Oh, thirty minutes, maybe. If you
don't keep me too much longer, I may be able to get to
safety in time.
Altekos: Ride have?
Allamon: No, but I have a beacon. The EDF should find me without
much trouble.
Altekos: (after another round of conversation) Take elevator. On
roof 'dyne is. Leave rest with. We go.
The Altairets disappear into the vent again.
Allamondoratherool watches them go, then gets up and walks out the
door.
Trump's office is filled to capacity. Erma, now recovered,
has "escorted" Picard and Ruby to the office and now they're
sitting directly behind Spock and Toki. A crowd of ILR forces has
also gathered, but all are intent on the game and couldn't care
less thet their enemies are right across from them. Of course,
that's what the whole game is about. Our three Altairets enter and
make their way to Erma's side. Altekos pulls at Erma's belt.
Erma: (impatiently) What IS it?
Altekos: (shushes her. Whispers) Trouble.
Erma: What kind of trouble?
Altekos: ILR base in basement. Next door plastique.
Erma: Plastique?
Altekos: (nodding) Boom.
Erma: Um... How much?
Altekos: Too much.
Erma: HOW much?
Altekos ponders, makes measuring gestures, does a rough
calculation.
Altekos: 950 kilos.
Erma's eyes widen. She tries to visualize an explosion of 950
kilos of plastique. No luck, but the Trump Towers has definitely
seen its last sunset.
Erma: When?
Altekos: Twenty-two minutes.tw
Erma: Uh-huhm. (thinks a moment, leans over to whisper in
Spock's ear. Spock pauses to listen)
Trump: I hope you're not taking hints from your friends. I
don't think they know five-card stud.
Spock: Nor I. However, it would seem wise to end this game here
and now. Now that our objective is completed, it is most
urgent that we get back to our respective universes.
Trump: Oh, so now you've got half my assets, you're ready to
take the money and run? Well, Spock, it's not that easy.
If you're gonna play this game, you'll play all or
nothing!
Spock: (looks at Erma. Erma nods) Very well. I'll raise you
to the maximum. Winner takes all.
Toki: (whispering, to Erma) What is this? If we lose it
here...
Erma: Never mind, it doesn't matter. Nothing is going to
matter here in about fifteen minutes.
Trump: (nods, suspicious, but willing to go for it) All right.
I'll call. (shows his hand) Four aces!
Spock: (nods, shows his hand) Straight flush.
Trump stares. Eyes pop. Jaw drops. Trump falls back in his
chair, which unceremoniously dumps him on the floor. Everyone
starts talking at once.
Picard: Does this mean I don't get my ship back?
Spock: I believe not, Captain. Captain Kirk has probably gotten
bored with it by now. I did notice that not much seems
to happen there.
Picard: (sardonic) Ah, thanks. (to Ruby) Well, kid, I guess this
is goodbye.
Ruby: Yeah, it looks that way. We'd better haul cottontail
before one side or the other remembers there was a battle
going on. Oh! Before I go, let me give you this. (hands
Picard a box) Maybe when you get lonely, you can take
them out... and remember me? (gives him a farewell kiss,
then starts rounding up her troops)
Picard opens the box, studies teh contents in momentary
surprise, then smiles and fondly closes it.
Altekos: What is?
Picard: Ruby's slippers.
Spock: (returning Toki's briefcase) Toki, I wish to thank you
for your timely assistance. You might well have saved me
from an embarrassing situation.
Toki: Oh, sure! Uh, you can keep the money, I won't be needing
it.
Spock: No, thank you. This, I'm afraid, is of no use to me in
the twenty-third century.
Toki: Of no use...? But... what am I going to do with it
on... (pauses, notices Trump's nice wallpaper) Mmm,
well... It's a thought...
Trump has recovered and regained his seat, though he could
slip right back out at any moment.
Trump: (moaning) My empire, my beautiful empire! My casinos, my
hotels... I was just about to start my first bordello!
Gone... all gone!
Spock: Please, Mister Trump. It will be far less painful if
done quickly. Now, here. Here is a pen, and the
transfer of title. If you'll simply sign...
Ivana: (just appearing at doorway) NOT... so... fast!
(strolls imperiously up to the desk, snatches the
transfer) Now, Donald, you know you can't go giving away
your estate. It's not yours to give!
Spock: And who might you be?
Ivana: I, sir, am Ivana Trump, Donald's ex-wife-to-be! It seems
Donald has forgotten to mention you and your friends to
me as well.
Spock: I'm afraid I don't understand.
Ivana: Oh, of course not. No one has been able to understand
Donald since he graduated from Harvard. But I tried to
be tolerant. A mistress or two on the side didn't really
break a marriage. I didn't even mind if they weren't
exactly... human. (glares meaningfully at Ruby) But
then Donald invited all these rabbit-people to move in
and practically run Atlantic City. MY Atlantic City, the
one he built for ME! No, that was going too far. No one
will take this city from me. If I have to buy every
lawyer on the east coast, I swear to you, this city will
be MINE! Mine... FOREVER!!!
Erma: (muttering) and nevermore.
Ivana: What was that?
Erma: Nothing. Look, Spock, the ILR is leaving, so the mission
is accomplished. I think perhaps we should just forget
the transfer of title and get back to our ships.
Wouldn't you agree?
Spock: Quite. Perhaps you could escort Captain Picard and
myself back to the Enterprise?
Erma: Why not? We're dropping off everyone else, it seems.
See if you can find a place to stand. (starts leading
everyone out)
Picard: You're sure Kirk will return my ship?
Spock: Once I replay Ivana's speech for him, I think he will be
most eager... especially five minutes from now.
All exit, except the Doctor, Romana, Ivana and Donald. The
Doctor steps over to the grieving Trump.
Doctor: Cheer up, old man. You've been working too hard! What
you need to do is to get out and about. Visit a couple
of planets, see a different-colored sky... Why don't you
come with us? We were just on our way out to Traminus 9,
a lovely place! Come on, you'll love it! (helps Donald
up, pauses) Ah, with your permission, of course, Ivana?
Ivana: What? Oh, yes, take him. Take him! Let me never lay
eyes on him again!
The Doctor, Romana, Donald exit. Ivana holds the transfer
deed out before her. She crumples it and begins to laugh. She
throws back her head, laughs triumphantly, laughs loud and long.
About two minutes long.
In the depths of teh now abandoned basement, a timer strikes
zero. A switch closes. A silent alarm sounds. Nine hundred and
fifty kilos of plastique explode. The basement and first three
floors are vaporized. The fireball thrusts its way upward, floor
by floor until, mere seconds after its birth, it erupts from the
roof in a plume that blows down buildings blocks away and lights
the night sky across the entire eastern seaboard.
The D-10 rests in the Excalibur's shuttle bay as Tula is
ectracted from it. Adelaide, Arthur, Erma nad Toki are on the
bridge, watching Atlantic City burning far below.
Arthur: Well, Erma, you were right.
Erma: Huh? How so?
Arthur: That explosion pretty much leveled the city proper. I
imagine the fire will finish off what's left.
Toki: Well, shouldn't we do something to help them?
Adelaide: We've done far too much already. They can handle a
burning city. They'll rebuild it, probably in less then
a decade. Maybe this time they'll avoid a disaster like
Donald Trump.
Erma: So what do we do now?
Adelaide: Well, I think it's high time we were all getting home.
Lieutenant Kryxa, hail the Enterprise. Both of them.
Two monitors blink on, one showing Captain Kirk, the other
Captain Picard.
Adelaide: All right, you two. Are you ready to go?
Picard: Anytime, Captain Aylientrou!
Kirk: We're ready when you are. You sure you know where to
find this temporal nexus?
Adelaide: We know exactly where it is. Seems we're the only ones
who saw it when we went through. You apparently don't
have the necessary sensors to find it, so stay right with
us.
Picard: Agreed. Will you be carrying the Albedoans back to their
universe?
Adelaide: Yes, we've agreed that would be the best arrangement.
What about the other crafts?
Kirk: Well, the Gay Deceiver crew decided to make their own way
home. No one's seen the Doctor or his craft since the
explosion. And the Vogons apparently got tired of
sitting around and took off for greener pastures. Took
that whole detachment with them, too!
Adelaide: I'm sorry.
Kirk: No, that's all right, they all like bad poetry, they'll
feel right at home. So, now that it's all over, how
about that party? That Nexus sound like a good place?
Adelaide: Mmmm... Be warned, the nexus nullifies artificial
gravity generators. We'll all be weightless.
Erma AND Toki: EEYAAH! Zee Gee party at the Nexus!
Arthur: Well, that should seal the Albedo vote!
Adelaide: Nexus they say, Picard. You say?
Picard: Agreed!
The three starships head off, as the bridge crew sings, "Rally
Round the Nexus." Adelaide notes Arthur grinning.
Adelaide: And what's on YOUR mind?
Arthur: Mmm, nothing. (gazes idly at Erma and Toki)
Adelaide: Think it's our crossover after all, huh?
Arthur: Well, we're just about done with the Star Trek angle,
wouldn't you say?
Adelaide: Yes, and we're taking these EDF personnel straight back
where they came from. There's no need to charge headlong
into another story.
Arthur: Of course not. Still, there are many light years, many
universes between our worlds and theirs. Much could
happen. Much could happen.
Adelaide: Well, Commander, we shall see that it doesn't!