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Sinderella and the Aliens* * * * * Sinderella got the alien ship in her sights. "Lock on," she commanded. "Locked on," responded the computer. "Fire." "Firing." The alien ship became an enormous red blossom, then vanished. "That's three of the bastards," she said. "Now let's scram before they spot us." "I require directions." "Take us to the Wedding Rings." "Which of the six rings?" "Take your choice," said Sinderella. "I am not programmed to make value judgments. I require guidance." "All right," she said. "Anne Boleyn." "Course laid in. Shifting to light speeds." "Good. And while you're at it, see who's available on the scrambled channel." "Working..." "This is Nicodemus Mayflower," said a familiar voice. "How are you doing?" "So far, so good," answered Sinderella. "Maybe _I_ can't match the aliens physically, but my ship sure as hell can. I've taken out three of them that were in transit from Henry VI to Henry VII." "Good!" said Mayflower. "Now, unless you're skilled in evasive maneuvering and defensive warfare, get the hell out of there. One ship might go |
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