CHAPTER 6
The intercom system brought Don's voice down to the lower deck in a booming statement. "Cavalry's here," he announced.
Everyone, Smith included, went to the upper level and made a beeline for the main view screen. From it they could just about make out a crowd of white suited aliens parading by. They seemed to come from nearly every representative species on board the Gaelorian Gem. The only distinctive marking that joined them together were their white robes, or sashes for the non humanoids. Each uniform boasted a patch with a neon yellow star burst on a blue field.
The visitors gave a quick cursory tour of the bay. They were hounded by many of the ship owners, but didn't deign to make comment on the situation. After about 20 minutes they disappeared through he main gate leading to the lobby.
"I wonder if that was a good sign — or a bad one," Smith commented in a cautious tone of voice.
"A bad one," the Robot informed them 30 minutes later, after a brief rumbling vibrated through the ship.
"What's going on?" West inquired from the command chair.
The Robot's upper body swiveled smoothly in his direction. "My sensors show that the portals to the beltway have just been shut."
John bolted down the steps seconds later and found the other ship owners gathered around a sign posted on the door. It wasn't hard cornering one alien who was backing away from the portal.
"What does it say?" John asked anxiously.
The alien's multiple feathered protuberances shook with apparent distress or agitation. In a voice that was far too loud for such a small body, the being shouted, "Quarantine. That's what it says! We are not allowed to leave until this situation is under control."
Then the alien rounded on John. "Which reminds me. Wasn't your little female offspring the one who brought those pests here?"
Others turned at this reminder. John's heart began to palpate wildly in his chest. He was surrounded and outnumbered. Slowly he backed toward his ship. "She got them from a trader who assured her the tribbles were safe." John's excuse sounded lame, but he knew diplomacy was going to be pointless. "We had never seen them before, and because of those assurances we thought it was safe to keep one."
"ONE? ONE?" the alien shrilly jabbered. "There are thousands of them now. Too many to count! They are everywhere. The food and drink storage areas on every vessel have been contaminated."
John held up his hands in a placating manner. "We are also suffering the same way. Please, be patient. I'm sure the authorities will know how to handle the tribbles quickly and efficiently. Meanwhile, our doctor is studying them and perhaps he can come up with something useful." Robinson knew that part wasn't 100% true. But it sounded good, and stalling seemed the wisest course of action.
He continued his litany of assurances as the crowd pushed him back. Suddenly he made a dash for his ship. Praying that someone was manning the hatch controls, John bolted up the steps and lunged through the hatch. "Shut it! Now!"
Panting mightily, sticky with the sweat of exertion and fear, he stumbled over to where his shocked family was waiting.
"Things getting a trifle ugly out there, aren't they?" Smith's pinched features radiated barely restrained terror.
"Now, that's an understatement," John grunted.
Penny sat down in a corner and began to cry. With a sympathetic look, Maureen knelt down and took the teenager in her arms. "Shh," she consoled. "It's not your fault."
"Yes, it is!"
"No...it's not. You didn't do this on purpose."
"But I still did it even if I didn't know what I was doing," Penny wailed. "And now we have everyone angry at us. What are we going to do?"
John also knelt down and took her into his arms. "It's all right, sweetheart. It's all a big accident. Soon the authorities will have everything under control and this incident will all blow over." With a loving pat on her leg, he got up and signaled Don to join him on the upper deck. Will, giving Penny a sympathetic look, went to join his father.
Once Maureen was sure Penny would be all right, she too went upstairs. Only Judy and Dr. Smith remained below.
Suddenly very weary, Smith decided to take a short nap while the others hassled with the problem at hand. He was a lover, not a fighter, and handling recalcitrant aliens just wasn't up his alley. Going to his cabin, he tried to open the door and found it stuck. Grunting in consternation he yanked it open. It slid back suddenly.
With a cry of shock, a big, fat, hairy wall, at least as tall as he was, came cascading on Smith. The weight of so many little bodies slammed him to the floor, and in an instant he was completely covered by a mass of trilling and purring tribbles.
Despite her pain, Penny burst out laughing. She'd forgotten the little "surprise" Don had planned for their reluctant stowaway. The absurdity of the moment took away the sorrow she felt. Judy smiled at Penny, glad to see her little sister distracted, even if it was only for a brief time.
"Mmrphr," came a muffled sound at the bottom of the heap. A few tribbles popped straight up as if they'd been goosed from below. A face appeared. "Will somebody PLEASE help me up?" Smith implored through his beard of red and white tribbles. "Oh woe, I can envision my tombstone now. Here lies the noble Zachary Smith...tribbled to death."
Once more Penny laughed. "Dr. Smith, no one can exaggerate quite like you."
More tribbles flopped around. "How true, my dear," he admitted wryly. "All of us Smiths have a real knack for it, you know...ACHOO! Get these furballs off my face, if you'd be so kind."
Together Judy, Penny and the Robot dragged the Doctor from the pile.
The containment crew showed up around dinner time with a huge load of sealed boxes. Food was distributed to every ship in that bay. The lynch mob had dissipated soon after, only because every being that required daily sustenance was too absorbed with assuring they got their fair share.
Surprisingly several guards were posted around the Jupiter 2. John gave the order to open the hatch. Two of the guards handed him seven sealed boxes, one for each crew member. "Return them when you are finished," the guard stated without preamble.
"Any news on how you'll get rid of the tribbles?" John asked.
Shaking two of its four "shoulders", the blue skinned alien turned slitted cats' eyes on the Professor. "The situation is being discussed."
"That's it? It can't be as bad as all that. Why not just come in here and haul them off?"
"That is for the extermination team to decide," it responded dryly.
Seeing that he would get no further information, John reentered the ship.
"Daddy, surely you don't mean they'll kill all the tribbles?:" Penny cried in distress.
"No, honey, that's not what they said. Maybe there's a safe way to deal with them. Move them somewhere, perhaps."
"Can they do that?"
John pursed his lips in thought. "Sweetheart, do you remember when we had those squirrels in the attic?"
"Sure."
"What did we do in that situation?"
Penny thought back to the incident. "We trapped them in little cages."
"And then?"
"Well...we moved them to the woods on the north end of town and let them loose."
"Exactly. And that's what I hope their solution will be as well." John gave Penny a short but powerful hug. She rewarded him with a warm, relieved smile. There was hope yet, her look seemed to say.
Across the room, Smith wiped his brow. Little beads of sweat were sliding down his cheek. His clothes were soaked, his body was caked with tribble hair, and he wanted a shower in the worst way. He removed his shirt and tossed it onto a pile of tribble, who promptly nestled into it. Two more climbed up the chair, headed for his neck, and in short order were trying to make love to his ears. They purred loudly. Smith pushed them down and three more returned. Each time he touched them, they trilled in delight. "Ladies, please. I'm but one man."
Judy smirked.
Smith pushed them off again.
The tribbles came back for more.
Smith shoved harder. Tribbles squawked but climbed up and purred louder. "ACHOO!"
Judy looked up from her boxed dinner. Unlike Smith's genteel and often faked sneezes, this one was let loose with real gusto. She heard him sniffle. Tribble dander was floating in the still air.
"ACHOO!"
"Bless you," several voices chorused.
"Good heavens, somebody turn down the heat!" Smith bellowed when he caught his breath.
"We tried." Will poked his head down through the ladder hatch. "Dad says all these little bodies are cu...cumu...cumulatively adding body heat and that's what's raising the temperature in here. Plus, with the ship locked up tight, it's not helping."
"So open the doors," was the testy reply.
Will's voice contained a shrug. "Dad didn't think it was wise, even with the guards out there. Three guards can't hold a hundred aliens for long as they're all looking for trouble."
"How encouraging. ACHOO!"
As soon as the tribble pile at the base of the ship had fanned out, thereby cleaning the garbage chute, the Robinsons started shoveling in earnest. John gave the order to open the exists to get in some fresh air. The Robot positioned himself at the edge of the stairs and broomed out any intruder that tried to climb back in.
What wafted up smelled distressingly pungent, but it was better than the stifling air inside the ship. The air purification system was requiring cleaning about four times an hour as the filtering mechanisms jammed with hair and dander.
Not more than two hours after dinner, Penny approached Dr. Smith with glassy eyes that threatened to spill more tears. The way she stood there, so grown up and yet so child like, made him want to hold her, to console her as her parents did. The compassionate side of his nature, which he carefully hid from the others lest they expect too much of him, rose to the fore. It spilled out into his expression, and Penny lost the fight to stay calm.
Holding a black and tan tribble, she sniffed, "Something's wrong with this one, Dr. Smith. Is there something you can do for it?"
"I'm not a veterinarian, child," he told her gently. Then he confessed, "I haven't learned what makes them tick yet. Therefore I can't cure them either."
She stood there, tears streaking her cheeks. She pulled the still creature to her chest and held it there.
Making sure no one else was around to see, he moved closer to her and murmured, "All right, let me see it. I'll try my best, but can make no promises."
Gingerly he took the small creature and cradled it in one hand. It neither purred nor trilled nor complained. In fact, it didn't move at all. Turning it over, he examined the mouth parts and instantly noted the pink/gray color had seriously darkened to charcoal gray. He stroked its fur and noted the slightly rough texture. It didn't take a veterinary degree to know that this tribble had gone to meet its maker.
"Penny, it pains me to be the bearing of sad tiding, but I'm afraid our little friend here has...reached the end of its life span."
"Are you sure?" Penny's voice sounded a bit ragged around the edges.
"Reasonably certain, unless this is some form of hibernation." He gently grasped her upper arm and let her see the compassion in his eyes. "My dear, sweet child, this may be a natural thing. Perhaps they have a very short life span."
"I suppose," Penny acquiesced softly. "What should I do with it."
Smith shrugged. It wouldn't be good to keep it around the ship. It would smell after a while. And putrefy besides, which might introduce unknown pathogens into the ship's environment. For safety reasons alone, he told her, "Best bring it outside and give it to the guards. They can give it to the authorities for examination."
"Yes, sir," she responded, and promptly left the ship,
It didn't take long to learn that the demise of that tribble wasn't an isolated incident. An hour later about ten more dead ones showed up. Near bedtime, the number had quadrupled.
Outside in the loading bay, live tribbles skirted silent, unmoving ones. The tide had turned But why? Smith asked silently. Were they like flies that hatched, bred and died in a 48 hour period?
The extermination crew came and examined the corpses. John, Don and Smith went out to meet them. Now that something was being done, the other aliens had conspicuously steered clear of the Jupiter 2 group. Therefore, they were able to approach the cleanup crew unimpeded.
"Why are they dying?" Smith asked almost immediately, not bothering with niceties.
"Working on it," the creature replied, obviously annoyed at being sidetracked.
"Is this normal?"
The alien wrinkled his pig like snout. "Negative. Tribble life span is about two months."
Smith looked intrigued. "Really? Care to divulge the reasons behind that?"
Snorting derisively, the creature muttered, "Tribbles are dark worlders. their planet is in eccentric orbit. Little sun, little warmth. Dark nearly all year long. Ferocious predators everywhere. Always hungry predators. They eat tribbles by the thousands each day during sunny, warm seasons. Very many tribbles are born, millions, in that short time. Very, very few survive. Those that do hibernate, and come out when the light period returns, when their food supply is restored, to start reproducing again."
Nodding, Smith realized that some of his unvoiced speculations had been true. "And they are born pregnant, which helps the numbers increase rapidly."
"Yes, born pregnant and ravenously hungry. They eat fruits, vegetables, grains. They can decimate a planet in no time if predators don't exist. It is illegal to remove tribbles from their home world. I would say you are in great trouble."
"I'll have you know, sir, that I did not bring them here!" Smith sniffed indignantly. He almost spit out that Penny had done it, but caught himself before the words sprang loose. "There is a trader, one Cyrano Jones, I believe he said was his name; he is the one who brought the tribbles here. Best your staff look to him for culpability. Meanwhile, we all need to unload these beasts from our midst."
"Soon," the creature replied. "We will restore living tribbles to their home world as soon as the freighter arrives. Dead ones will be incinerated."
"How lovely," sniffed Smith. "You'd better do it immediately. The ones I've seen were already bloating up."
The alien exterminator gave Smith a "mind your own business" looked and stomped heavily away.
When Smith returned to the ship he found Penny sadly sorting through the tribble piles, pulling out the swollen bodies of deceased tribbles and putting them in a large bag someone had given her. She turned her tear streaked face toward him.
Quietly Smith knelt down near her, and softly told her, "My dear child, I know how much this hurts you. And I wish there were something I could say that would make it better. Just remember, no one is to blame."
Penny wiped a tear away with the back of her hand. She nodded slowly, realizing he and her family were probably right.
John and Maureen watched silently, looking at each other with soft smiles and waiting until Smith entered his cabin. Soon, tribble bodies, both live and dead were flying through the air and landing on the central piles.