Doctor's Appointment

Nurse Chaplin scheduled President Kennedy's appointment for the following Sunday evening. President Kennedy was understandably nervous about being transported via a matter/energy conversion system. He was even more nervous once Commander Snot explained how it worked. Nonetheless, the Spaceship Lula Belle, obviously, was not going to land on the White House lawn or any other place nearby; nor could Dr. McKay transport the Lula Belle's medical facilities to Earth. President Kennedy was, however, so eager to see the scientific descendent of the program he had brought into being that his hopes overcame his fears.
He spoke into the cellular telephone, "I'm ready to beam up, Snotty." In the next second, every molecule in President Kennedy's body was transformed into energy and sent heavenward. As he was being re-materialized, President Kennedy found himself in a large cubicle that, though its color was white, resembled a large oven. He was standing on one of several pads that looked like the eyes of a stove.
He couldn't help wondering if the matter/energy conversion transporter was also used for cooking.
As expected, Captain Kook, Commander Snot and Doctor McKay met
President Kennedy in the transporting room when the President arrived. "Good evening, Mr. President," said Captain Kook. "I trust you had a pleasant trip?"
"The departure and arrival were a little startling," President Kennedy replied, "but I was scarcely aware of the trip itself. Before I go to sick bay for my physical, would you show me the engine room and try to explain to me how it works?"
Commander Snot did his best to explain the matter/anti-matter means of propulsion. He said that each thing in the material universe has its opposite, and a particle of anti-matter is just as substantial as a particle of matter. Whenever matter and anti-matter meet, they neutralize one another. This results in a release of energy that is powerful enough to propel a spaceship. This process also warps space to a degree that (remember that, according to Einstein's theory, space is curved anyway) the spaceship may be propelled up to nine times the speed of light.
President Kennedy listened intently, but it was clear he was having trouble understanding this application of physical theory. Snotty took another approach. "Matter and anti-matter," he said, "is a little like two of your television personalities, Ralph and Alice Cramden. Ralph earns money and put it in the bank. Alice writes checks, taking it out of the bank. Each time one of her checks for a certain amount comes in contact with Ralph's bank account, it neutralizes an equal amount of his income. The more Alice does it, the more energy it generates between her and Ralph. As Ralph Cramden has pointed out, that energy, if harnessed, would be sufficient to send someone to the moon."
To President Kennedy, that sounded like bad physics and worse television. President Kennedy smiled, "I hope Dr. McKay's medical prowess is better than your physics. I'd better head for sick bay before your explanation starts to make sense to me."
Commander Snot excused himself, pleading that he had to take care of important business on the bridge. Captain Kook, Dr. McKay and President Kennedy left the engineering room for sick bay.
Along the way, President Kennedy saw what seemed like quite a number of elderly people—mostly women—walking the passageways. "This looks like an interstellar veteran’s hospital," he remarked. "Is it?"
"No, Mr. President," replied Captain Kook. "They're the crew. Thirty years in space has really taken its toll. When we first began the mission, we expected it to last only five years. We brought many women and some ethnic minorities aboard. To make ourselves feel noble, we gave some of them positions of responsibility. We were still racist, male chauvinist pigs, though. Very few of them were given any discernable responsibilities. We made all the women wear mini-skirts and Nancy Sinatra boots. After all, during five years in space, what would you expect us to do in our spare time? Wait for shore leave and seek out strange, new life? No way!"
"You mean," asked President Kennedy, "that most of them have nothing essential to do aboard the Lula Belle?"
"That's about it. They can't do a thing, but it sure is fun watching them do it. It was my idea. The previous captain, Christopher Spike, got along just fine with a compliment of 203. It was boring. After he got messed up on some gosh forsaken planet and had to be confined to what looked like a big radio on wheels, I took over as captain. I brought 203 women aboard for eye candy and two dozen ethnic minorities just to make me feel noble."
"So, you increased the ship's compliment from 203 to 430?"
"Yep. We have had as many as 433. As selfish as it was, it turned out to be a smart move. After thirty years, most of the ship's operations have been taken over by the children of the original crew. Some of us old timers refuse to step aside, though. We had to convert one of the recreation rooms into a day care center for our grandchildren, and some of the crew's quarters have been converted into a nursing home."
"You started out with 430 men and women, and then added children and grandchildren. How many do you have aboard now?"
"We still have 430. The casualty rate is pretty high on this ship. Every time we go down to an unfamiliar planet, some more people get killed. We soon learned to bring along some crewmembers to act as cannon fodder. They get killed, and we miraculously survive. Sometimes Bonehhead gets hoarse from saying, `He's dead, Jim,' all the time. Ah, here we are at sick bay! I'll leave you with Bonehead, while I take care of something urgent on the bridge."
Bonehead led President Kennedy to a bed-like table. At the head of the table, President Kennedy saw what looked like a late-twentieth century mechanic's tune-up equipment. "Will you lie down, please?" Bonehead said in his best bedside manner.
With Nurse Chaplin looking on, Bonehead turned on the physical scanner and read the results. "That's incredible!" he exclaimed. "It's a wonder you're even alive!"
"What's wrong?" President Kennedy cried.
"Your pulse is supposed to be 242, but it's only 65. And your body temperature---it's--it's a wonder you don't pass out! It's 98.6 degrees."
"Isn't that normal?"
"Oh, yes, I forgot. My most recent patient was that devil-eared character, and I'd forgotten to readjust the setting. Yeah, other than Hodgkin's disease, your health is fine. Drop your pants, so Nurse Chaplin can give you a shot. That should cure your Hodgkin's disease in a matter of weeks."
President Kennedy winced, "I appreciate that you have a cure for my ailment, but, in three centuries, you still haven't found a less painful way to administer treatment?"
"Well, maybe, Mr. President, but Nurse Chaplin has been telling me you have sexy buns. She'd like a closer look." President Kennedy scowled at Doctor McKay. "On second thought," Doctor McKay smiled sheepishly, "why spoil a good imagination? Imagining what your buns look like should please her more than the reality. Roll up your sleeve." He turned to his disappointed nurse and said, "Okay, Nurse Chaplin, pop him one."
Nurse Chaplin popped him one with the vaccination gun, and shuffled over to a nearby counter. "Well, Mr. President," Doctor McKay said cheerfully, "That's it for now. I'd like to give you another checkup in a week or so. While you're here, would you like to see the bridge?"
"I'm sure you're talking about the ship's bridge, and not the Key Bridge in Washington," said President Kennedy.
"Of course—as soon as you've made an appointment with Nurse Chaplin." He made an appointment for the Monday morning about a week thence. Doctor McKay led President Kennedy to the bridge. Nurse Chaplin remained to return the vaccination capsules to the medicine cabinet and tidy up a bit.
* * *
When President Kennedy and Bonehead arrived on the bridge, they saw Ensign Jackass, Lieutenants O'Hara and Dzau-le, Captain Kook, Commanders Spook and Snot, and most of their children and grandchildren crowded in front of the ship's visual scanner screen. Upon glancing at the screen, President Kennedy immediately recognized Ray Walston and Bill Bixby in the popular television series, My Favorite Martian. "That Ray Walston really cracks me up!" one of the oldest officers laughed.
Captain Kook introduced President Kennedy to all of them, adding that his communications officer, Lt. O'Hara, was also his wife. Their romance, Captain Kook said, had begun some years earlier, on a planet populated by people who had telekinesis. The ruler of the planet used his telekinetic power to force Captain Kook and Lieutenant O'Hara to kiss one another. "It got became habit-forming," Captain Kook remarked. Sometime later, Dr. Janice Lister, a former sweetheart, tried to pressure Kook into "doing the honorable thing" by marrying Lister. To Kook, marrying Lt. O'Hara seemed like an expedient means of escaping Dr. Lister's clutches.
During Captain Kook's ramblings, President Kennedy noticed that Mr. Spook was the only person on the bridge who appeared to be working. Mr. Spook, instead of watching My Favorite Martian, peered into a much smaller screen on one of the consoles. His eyes were illuminated by a pale, blue light coming from the screen. Captain Kook said to President Kennedy, "Mr. Spook spends a great deal of his time looking into that thing. Sometimes it's essential. Sometimes he does it just for fun."
"What is it?" Kennedy asked.
"It's a scanner that also analyzes the things he sees. I understand that you have spy satellites capable of reading a newspaper headline from outer space."
"That's somewhat true. The photographs have to be enlarged and enhanced in other ways, but, if the picture is taken during the day, we can read a headline or identify a matchbox."
"On the Lula Belle," Captain Kook explained, "our onboard computer does all the enhancing we need, day or night, without having to take a picture. Day or night, we can even read a newspaper over someone's shoulder." President Kennedy emitted a low whistle. Captain Kook continued, "The computer even locks on the scanner screen to the item being examined, so we can read the newspaper, even
if the man moves. If he turns the page, the scanner automatically locks onto the next page.
Yesterday, I caught Mr. Spook laughing at the scanner. As it turned out, he was reading MAD magazine."
"Whether it's a clear day or night?" President Kennedy asked Mr. Spook.
"That's right," Spook replied. "Even the dimmest rays of light are magnified up to ten thousand times. It's as if it were daylight."
"Does it work that well in all kinds of weather?" Kennedy asked.
Mr. Spook replied, "No, Mr. President. I'm a science officer, not a magician." As soon as he said those words, Mr. Spook slapped his own forehead at the thought that he'd just made the kind of remark that he had grown tired of hearing from Dr. McKay. Spook exclaimed, "I can't believe I just said that!" Facing Dr. McKay, Mr. Spook said to Captain Kook, "Keep that man away from me!"
Dr. McKay shrugged and smiled.
Mr. Spook resumed looking into the scanner screen. "Mmm-hmm!" Mr. Spook hummed approvingly at the screen.
"Mr. Spook!" the captain reprimanded. "Are you looking down women's bodices again?"
Without taking his eyes off the screen, Mr. Spook replied,
"Affirmative, Captain."
"You're supposed to be locating dinner."
"I located dinner a half hour ago. Do you like Polynesian food?"
"Sure. Even if I didn't, it should be an improvement over what we had for lunch. Are we having a luau?"
"Affirmative, Captain. I'll be locking on target in a few minutes. We'll have our feast as soon as My Favorite Martian is over."
* * *
As soon as My Favorite Martian was over, President Kennedy and the officers and crew of the Lula Belle headed for the transporter room. They all lined up outside of the transporter room, licking their chops like dogs eager for a steak. The officers occupied the head of the line. The senior officers of the Lula Belle moved ahead of the other officers. Captain Kook escorted President Kennedy to the front of the line. They heard Mr. Snot call out, "R-r-r-ready to transport supper!" He pulled a lever, and everyone nearby watched a Polynesian feast appear on the transporter pads. The crew congratulated Mr. Spook for having redeemed himself for the dreadful meal he had beamed aboard for lunch.
They all served themselves buffet-style. President Kennedy gaped at the array of delicious foods: a roast whole pig, baked surf clams, at least a dozen kinds of fruits, baked sweet potatoes and many other foods. The President gushed, "I don't know what to say! This is very thoughtful of you going to this much trouble for me. I really appreciate it."
"Actually, Mr. President," Captain Kook responded, "most of our meals are like this. We do our best to make every meal a banquet."
"How can you afford all this every day? It's a meal fit for a king."
"It's funny you should say that," Mr. Spook interjected. "The king of some Polynesian island is getting married in a couple of hours. This was supposed to have been his wedding feast. After we're through eating, we'll beam the bones and leftovers and other stuff back to where we got it. Don't look so surprised, Mr. President. We do it all the time. It beats having to eat military rations."
"Don't you feel guilty," President Kennedy asked, "about all the trouble it must cause people when you do this?"
"Sure," Captain Kook cut in, "we especially feel sorry for all the caterers who've lost their jobs on our account; but all this good food helps us to overcome any guilt feelings we may have about it. Why, sometimes, we even use the transporter to do charity work. Last week, Mr. Spook got to feeling sorry for some down-and-outers who had nothing to eat except what they could get at a Methodist soup kitchen."
"So, what did he do?"
"The next time they went to the soup kitchen, they found a banquet waiting for them. The Methodists had no idea where it came from, but they were happy to serve it to those needy people."
"Where did the banquet come from?"
"From a fund-raising feed some political candidate for the U. S. Senate was throwing for his millionaire friends. Don't worry, it turned out just fine. We sent those millionaires the stuff the soup kitchen had prepared."
President Kennedy roared with laughter. "Then what happened?" he asked. "At first, they were livid. One guy even pointed out that it was the kind of stuff you'd expect ‘derelicts’ to be served in a soup kitchen. Then his wife told him that maybe they should try eating what the less fortunate have to eat; that maybe it would help them to understand what they're going through. Before the meal was over, almost every millionaire there was thanking the candidate for opening their eyes for them. With their help, he may even get elected."
"The crew seemed a bit miffed over what Mr. Spook had procured for their lunch. I gather it wasn't a feast?"
"Oh, it was a feast, all right," Dr. McKay said. "It was a feast prepared in a South American rain forest. The main course turned out to be termites." During the feast, President Kennedy asked the officers and crew of the Lula Belle about life aboard their spaceship and why they had signed up for a mission that had been expected to last for five years. Each had his story to tell, but President Kennedy found Ensign Jackass's story the most intriguing.
"I just had to get away from my family," Jackass sighed.
"You didn't get along very well with them?" the President asked.
"Oh, it wasn't that. We got along fine. It just got to be too confusing."
"How so?"
"After my mother died, and my father remarried, his new wife was a generation younger than he was. There was nothing wrong with that. The trouble started when I fell in love with her mother and married her. My father became my son-in-law, and my step mother became my step daughter, which made my wife my granddaughter. when our wives gave birth, my father's new son became my grandson as well as my brother; and, since my new son became my father's brother, that meant that my son was also my uncle. Somewhere along the way, somebody figured out that I was my own grandfather. To make matters even more confusing, my wife's father was a Cro-magnon Man whose body had been found frozen in a glacier in northern Europe for ten thousand years. It was by means of his sperm that my wife was conceived. My wife's mother was an aborted fetus whose eggs had been united with the Cro-magnon Man's sperm to make my wife. Other parts of the aborted fetus were frozen for medical research. My wife had always wondered what her mother would have been like if she had had the opportunity to be born. So, she had some DNA—the genetic building blocks of the human cell—extracted from the fetus that would have been her mother; and, through a process called cloning, had the reconstructed embryo implanted into her—my wife's—womb. By that means, even though my wife's mother previously had never been born, my wife gave birth to her own mother. Holidays such as Father's Day and Mother's Day got confusing enough. It was even more confusing when my wife's daughter, who is also my step mother, would try to tell my wife what she could and could not do. Even as an infant, my wife's daughter would say to her, `Because I'm your mother!' What really bummed me out was when my father had his sex change operation. Now my father is my mother. That's when I knew it was time to leave."
"Yes, of course!" President Kennedy agreed. "I can also imagine that the Catholic Church must be having fits."
"Not really," Jackass responded. "Early in the twenty-first century, the pope decided that the Catholic Church should become more democratic. One of his reforms was to have popes face re-election every few years, and anyone with a Catholic background could vote. Also, anyone with a Catholic background could be elected Pope. The very next pope's Catholic background consisted of having played a nun in a movie. Pope Whoopi set about making the Catholic Church more democratic and more modern. Now that the Catholic Church is more democratic and more interested in keeping up with the times, it's a whole lot more fun than it used to be, and it really helps people to feel good about themselves."
"So, why did you have to leave?"
"One of the most liberating things I've ever realized is that, the universe is bigger than any problem I can possibly have. For that reason, no problem is so big or so confusing that I can't successfully run away from it."
"Does it ever bother you to think that, even though you left the confusion behind, it still exists in your family's life?"
"Not in the least. Another liberating realization is the freedom of knowing that I'm not responsible for the behavior of other people. As long as I can live the kind of life that lets me feel good about myself, I'm fulfilling my responsibility to myself and to others."
"After your father had his sex change operation," President Kennedy asked, "did that legally annul his marriage to your—well, whatever you'd call her?"
"Not at all. In the twenty-second century, people are pretty open minded about what constitutes a family. Have you seen Mr. Spook's wife?"
"I'm not sure if I have."
"His wife used to really hate it when Mr. Spook spent all evening on his computer. One night, she said to him, `I think you love that computer more than you love me!' He thought about it and realized that his wife was right."
"You mean he began spending more time with his wife?"
"No, he divorced his wife and married the computer."