Dark Star by Alan Dean Foster Read Free Book Online

furies.
    He could lay it on Boiler, but Boiler would just sit there and ignore him completely. At least Pinback reacted. And Talby, he could talk and yell and complain to Talby, but something in him always rejected the thought of disturbing the astronomer's period of endless contemplation.
    He could always talk to Commander Powell. Even though Powell was technically deceased, his occasionally functioning mind was still capable of random conversation. Sometimes Doolittle found himself closer in feeling to Powell than anyone else. Both men's minds existed in a kind of suspended animation.
    Well, might as well make Pinback happy. And it was part of his duty. And he'd promised himself, once upon a time, that he'd carry out the duties of acting commander to the best of his ability, etc., etc., blah-blah.
    Besides, if he didn't do it, Pinback might, and that would be disastrous if they ever did get back in one piece.
    He reached up and activated the overhead screen. When the READY sign had cleared, he spoke toward the directional microphone. "Ship's Log, entry number one thousand nine hundred and forty-three. Lieutenant Doolittle, acting commander of Dark Star , informing.
    "Ship is presently cruising through sector Theta nine ninety at light-speed multiple enroute to area Veil Nebula for destruction of unstable planet. Our ETA is seventeen hours. Our ability to locate unstable worlds in systems with habitable planets seems to have increased markedly with practice. It almost seems as if they are presenting themselves to us on request. I can only assume that our increased proficiency is due to greater vigilance and familiarity with the necessary instrumentation. In any case it appears that we shall be returning home sooner than expected, ah, and we . . ."
    He hesitated. There was something else, he thought, but he couldn't think of what . . . oh yes. "Ship's internal systems continue to deteriorate. We are compensating, but as the number of malfunctions multiplies, we find it increasingly difficult to improvise from our rapidly decreasing ship's stores."
    Pinback leaned over and whispered to him.
    He nodded, spoke to the screen. "Oh yeah . . . the short circuit in the rear seat panel which killed Commander Powell is still faulty. After much deliberation and thorough analysis of the situation, I have given explicit instructions that no one is to sit in that seat or he will be severely reprimanded."
    Pinback leaned over and whispered again, a mite more urgently this time.
    "The storage . . . what is it now, Pinback?"
    He paused, listened to the whisper. "Oh. And because he is sitting next to Commander Powell's seat, Pinback is continually bothered by the faulty circuit. He is possessed of this unreasonable fear that his rear seat panel will be the next to short circuit.
    I've pointed out to Sergeant Pinback that this attitude is both irrational and asinine, and he—"
    "Is not," muttered Pinback from off-screen.
    "—he persists in reminding me of it." Then the thought he had first been hunting for finally came to him. "Oh, yeah. Storage Area Nine, Subsection B self destructed last week following a circuit malfunction, thus destroying the ship's entire supply of toilet paper. I would request of the folks down at McMurdo that we be immediately resupplied with this important commodity. But am afraid, logistics being what they seem to be at Earth Base these days, that they would ship us the toilet paper in lieu of our desperately needed radiation shielding.
    "As the two materials are not interchangeable in function, I am therefore delaying the request that we be resupplied with the former commodity, although," and he looked over at Pinback, "there are those among the crew who feel that in the long run, the toilet paper is the more vitally needed of the two."
    He stared back up into the screen. "And if anyone ever reading this log finds the present situation amusing, I can only hope that they someday find themselves in a situation where