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(THE REVERSE OCEAN. The Spaceship and Bob are floating on the surface of an interior sea, one which exists on the interior surface of the asteroid rather than the exterior. Accordingly, and counter to all known laws of physics, when Bob looks out at the horizon, he can faintly detect the sight of the ocean curving back up to fill the sky instead of falling away. Equally improbable is the Automated Spherical Buoy that has just motored up to the bobbing Spaceship and greeted Bob by name.) BOB: Spaceship. Tell me what the odds are that this automatic buoy would guess my name right on the first try. SPACESHIP: Well. I'm no statistician, but I'd say they're large indeed. AUTOMATED SPHERICAL BUOY: Ha! Ha! I assure you that, in this case, they're not that big, Mr. Tallmadge - you've been expected! SPACESHIP: Now, the odds of THAT would have to be even HIGHER! (Bob hops down to stand on top of the inflated airbags to get a closer look at the buoy) BOB: So... are you the owner-slash-operator of the force-beam? If so, we'd like to thank you. SPACESHIP: Or! Maybe we should be angry with it, Bob. It WAS that force-beam that drew us in here in the first place... BOB: Manners! AUTOMATED BUOY: Ha! Ha! I am not the owner OR the operator of the beam, but I DO represent him. (Another sphere raises like a blister on the buoy's perfectly spherical, silver surface, growing until it becomes a blinking eye, just like the one trained on Bob and the Spaceship. It turns and glances back at the island some miles away.) Come on! He's waiting for us on the Island. (Several other spherical appendages branch out from the buoy, which it uses to propel itself away from the Spaceship. After a moment, it stops, and notices that they aren't following. It returns.) AUTOMATED BUOY: Oh - you aren't designed for sea? SPACESHIP: Not as such. In fact, I'm still taking on water, which concerns me somewhat. BOB: Although I think we're both really impressed with YOUR design! Just how many of those attachment thingys do you have? And are all the buoys here like you? AUTOMATED BUOY: Buoys? Oh - Ha! Ha! Yes. And I can have as many "attachments" as I want. (The Buoy demonstrates: Several other spheres grow out of its main body, growing to a variety of sizes. The spheres arrange themselves into several different patterns. One second they conglomerate into a pyramid, the next they form a chain around the ship. Finally it returns to its original shape. Bob whistles, and the Spaceship plays a recording of audience applause.) AUTOMATED BUOY: Thanks, thanks! And - I'd like to make it perfectly clear that I am NOT a destroyer robot. Not at all! (Bob and the Spaceship are silent at this strange pronouncement.) Now, spacecraft! If you'll allow me... what's your designation, anyway? SPACESHIP: I'm... just called Spaceship. AUTOMATED BUOY: I... see. (It turns its eyes to look at Bob for a moment.) How... simple. Anyway, allow me. The Ocean is not without some predators, so we should probably make some speed to the Island! (The Buoy extends a small sphere which sticks fast to the hull of the Spaceship, probably magnetically. It begins towing them.) BOB: So what sort of person owns the beam that brought us here? And where is "here," anyway? AUTOMATED BUOY: Oh, we all just call it "Lost Island." It doesn't really have a name. Although, if you're sending a letter, I suppose it would get here if you put "In The Center of Asteroid Cluster GYC-678." (The island in the distance is growing closer. We can faintly make out a man is standing on the shore, watching them.) AUTOMATED BUOY: Although we don't get many visitors, OR mail, so the name rarely comes up. (The buoy begins humming to itself as it drives them closer to the island.) SPACESHIP: Um... I feel I should mention that I am still taking on water. Still not watertight, you know! BOB: OK, OK. We're going as fast as we can, I think. AUTOMATED BUOY: So! You're in the Universal Assistant game, Bob? BOB: You... seem to know a lot about me. AUTOMATED BUOY: They're a mysterious group, those Universal Assistants! It was hard tracking down any data about them! "A sect of freelance functionaries, usually employed by a higher order of beings." BOB: Well, it's not really a SECT. More of an ORDER. And we usually don't like to talk about our clients... AUTOMATED BUOY: "Their clients range from extra-spatial beings, to beings of pure light, from god-like beings, to the very very rich..." BOB: It's sort of in our code. The confidentiality thing... AUTOMATED BUOY: "... clients that, despite their advanced wealth or evolution, need assistance with basic life functions or interpretation of reality." Well! I'd say I know a few people like that! So what job are you working on now? BOB: I... really, we don't usually discuss it outside of - BUOY: Well, it's all right. (The robot hums to itself for a minute.) Mr. Hugely has you on the "entropy" assignment, I imagine. BOB: How... how did you know that? (The Buoy remains silent, motoring them closer to the island.) BUOY: He's asked you to find an example of entropy so he can include it in his report Entropy: Is it Still Needed in the Universe?, if I'm not mistaken. (Bob's mouth drops open. They are by now very close to the island. We can see that the man on the shore is wearing a red cape. Behind him, a line of palm trees conceal the rest of the rather small island.) SPACESHIP: Bob, I just picked up some strange readings. BOB: And what might those be? SPACESHIP: We... are not moving. BOB: (Sighing) Your circuits are just wet. We're OBVIOUSLY moving. Look how close we are to "Lost Island!" SPACESHIP: No! We're not - that island is moving towards US. BOB: What the- AUTOMATED BUOY: And here we are! (With a final exertion, the buoy pulls the ship right up on to the beach. It sprouts two wheels and rolls on up the shoreline. Bob hops down from the top, stumbling a bit in the sand. The man in the cape approaches, waving to them. As he gets closer, Bob sees that the man appears to be in his late fifties. Beneath the cape, he wears a striped swimming costume, the kind that covers the chest. A rubber cap protects his hair, and he is also wearing a black mask.) MAN IN CAPE AND MASK: Welcome! Welcome, all, to my Lost Island! BOB: Hello... MAN IN CAPE AND MASK: I am Urvis Penthum! And I see my robot has successfully navigated you through the treacherous waters of the Dammit to Hell Sea! That is good. Because, Bob Tallmadge... this is your LUCKY DAY! A moving island... a man who wears a mask but tells his name... a psychic robot... find out MORE in Episode 4 of Bob Tallmadge, Universal Assistant: The Job Offer!
© 1999 Absurd Pamphlet Press
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