Chapter 3 - Encounter
The Travelers Are Introduced to Nabashio;
Tom Shoots a Space Laser
"No way, I got this," said Tom. "It's most likely some disgruntled Porcupine Pipe customer anyway. I have to constantly remind these morons that the 'pap' is sold 'as is.'" Tom resolutely stood up from his command chair and walked over to the still-ringing telephone. "Well hello," he said, a smile on his face, "Tom Starley at your service." Tom listened intently and heard nothing. He tried again. "Hello? Is there anybody there?" The other travelers watched intently as Tom spoke on the phone. After his second salutary attempt, they saw his right eyebrow raise in bewilderment.
"What is it?" asked Russ. "What do you hear?"
Tom placed the palm of his hand over the receiver and answered Russ' question. "It's really strange; it sounds like growling, snorting, and wailing, all at the same time." Tom again tried to speak into the phone. "Hello, is someone trying to say something? I don't speak dog." After a few more seconds, Tom again placed his hand over the receiver, this time addressing Balloon. "It sounds like whoever or whatever is on the other end of the line isn't happy about something. Get over here and translate, Balloon."
Balloon had an anxious look on his face. All he could think about were space bandits in the shape of humanoid dogs. In connection with this thought, he was vaguely reminded of the cover art for Certain Death's eighth album: Growl at the Victim. "What you want me to do, Tommy? I ain't gots no know-how on speakin' growlin' dog."
"Balloon!" shouted Tom, "you know everything. Get over here and translate."
"Tom's right," added Victory. "We need to figure out what this is." Tom shot Victory a sarcastic grin.
Balloon slowly rose from his seat and lumbered toward Tom. As Tom handed him the phone, he said: "Now just listen to whatever that hideous sound is and ask yourself what it means in English."
"Okay, Tommy," responded Balloon in a somber tone. Balloon put the phone to his ear and meagerly said, "Hello." As accurately described by Tom, Balloon then heard what sounded like growls and sniffs coming through the phone, each apparent word beginning and ending with rough consonants. After a pause, Balloon asked himself what it all meant.
"Well?" said Russ, perceiving Balloon's guess.
"They sayin' 'Citizen of Zaxmorthia. You are in violation of multiple provisions contained in Penal Code Section 213. Stand down and face the punishment worthy of your crime.' At least, that's what ma head's tellin' me." Balloon stared at Russ with wide eyes that asked what he should do next.
"What the deuce is 'Zaxmorthia?'" asked Tom.
"Balloon?" inquired Russ, looking at Balloon's blank stare.
Balloon answered the inquiry. "Uhh.... Zaxmorthia is what they name is for this here Sombrero Galaxy." Balloon blankly looked from Russ, to Victory, and Tom. "Hey, y'all, should I's be sayin' somethin' back to these dog folk?"
Russ' eyes widened as he thought of a plan. "Alright, how about this? They called us 'citizens of Zaxmorthia,' or whatever it's called. So just tell them we aren't citizens of Zaxmorthia, and that whatever laws they say we're breaking don't apply to us."
"Why not?" added Tom in support. "It won't work, but why not?"
Balloon was confused about the message he should convey. "What, y'all?" was all he could muster.
"Tell them we aren't from Zaxmorthia, and then tell them we didn't break any of their laws," instructed Russ.
"Will do," said Balloon. He then removed his hand from the receiving end of the telephone and spoke: "we ain't no Zaxmorthias, and we's innocent from breakin' no laws."
"Good try, Balloon," said Tom. "But you'll likely need to say it in their language. Ask yourself how to say it to them and try again."
Balloon screwed up his face and spit out the foreign words that filled his head. Victory, Tom, and Russ were each taken aback by the discomfiting sounds emanating from Balloon's mouth. After speaking, the three discerned Balloon was again receiving communications from whoever it was that had contacted them.
Balloon relayed the message. "Now they sayin' we needs to tell them who we is, and that they's gittin' close to us 'n they's gonna destroy us if'n we don't surrender."
"Balloon, just surrender," demanded Victory, moving toward Balloon and the phone. "Just tell them we made a mistake and surrender to them."
"What are you smoking, V?" responded Tom. "We're not surrendering to nobody. We don't even know who they are, or whether they can hurt us." Tom walked to the viewing window and looked out into space in all directions. "I don't even see these bozos. Russ, go check the other windows and see if anybody's out there."
"Good idea," responded Russ as he ran out the command center door.
"What'm I's gonna say?" said Balloon, his jaw clenched tight.
"Uh....boys," shouted Russ from the living room, "we've got problems. Get over here."
Tom and Victory ran out of the command center and joined Russ as he looked out the living room window positioned above the flower couch. Immediately after seeing the sight, Victory again shouted toward Balloon, "Surrender, Balloon. We have no chance against these guys."
Positioned alongside the single-wide was a massive ship, constructed of a twisted, dark metal substance. Thousands of lights shone from various locations of its rectangular shape. There were symbols on the side of the ship facing the single-wide, which Tom and Russ could not understand. In the Zaxmorthian common tongue, it read PROT IX.