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Little Mike Picasso and the Aliens* * * * * Little Mike Picasso looked at his viewscreen. There was nothing but rocks as far as the eye could see. "Can I breathe the air?" "Yes," answered his ship's computer. "Of course, the first breath will kill you within five seconds, but..." "Where the hell _are_ we?" he demanded. "I have no idea," came the answer. "Well, you're _supposed_ to know!" he snapped. "I beg to differ," said the computer. "You could have added an HT10547 state-of-the-art Navigational Computer to me before you came to the Inner Frontier, and you chose not to. It is hardly my fault that you have forced me to perform operations for which I was not programmed." "All I said was get me to one of the Henrys where the aliens were." "I know what you said. I have audio, video, and holographic recordings of it, and can instantly reproduce them should the need arise. That in no way alters the fact that I am not an HT10547 state-of-the-art Navigational Computer. I have done the best I could do under exceptionally trying circumstances." "You couldn't find your nose with your finger," complained Little Mike. "I possess neither a nose nor a finger," replied the computer. "You know damned well what I meant," said Little Mike. "Not only didn't you find a world |
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