Being an interstellar trouble shooter wouldn’t be so bad … if I could shoot the trouble!
And I had to walk into the middle of that mess and repair the thing.
It would have been easy enough if we were allowed a little mayhem. I could have had a lizard fry, fixed the beacon and taken off. Only "native life-forms" were quite well protected. There were spy cells on my ship, all of which I hadn't found, that would cheerfully rat on me when I got back.
Diplomacy was called for. I sighed and dragged out the plastiflesh equipment.
* * * * *
Working from 3D snaps of Grandson, I modeled a passable reptile head over my own features. It was a little short in the jaw, me not having one of their toothy mandibles, but that was all right. I didn't have to look exactly like them, just something close, to soothe the native mind. It's logical. If I were an ignorant aborigine of Earth and I ran into a Spican, who looks like a two-foot gob of dried shellac, I would immediately leave the scene. However, if the Spican was wearing a suit of plastiflesh that looked
His problem is that the beacon he has to fix has been turned into an object of worship by the local intelligent reptiles. How is he supposed to get close enough to it to fix it?
A story of the repairman's misadventures, mildly humorous.
Creative and fun.
There are faint humorous foreshadowings of the Stainless-Steel Rat in this short story. The ending does feel a little abrupt, mostly because the story and the protagonist are so much fun.
A great, fun, short read. The ending is a little disappointing, however.
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