Free DS02 Night of the Dragonstar by Thomas F. Monteleone, David Bischoff

inside?”
    Neville led the way into a room filled with memorabilia from long ago-framed paintings of book covers, original magazine illustrations, plaques, photographs, and other pieces of the past. Phineas felt like he was walking through a wing of a museum. He spotted a painting of a familiar cover — a book he had read in the eighth grade called The Scaling of the Xedrin. He had never forgotten the wonderful intricacies of the plot or the ingenious aliens Neville had dreamed up for that one.
    “You know, I remember reading this one when I was twelve years old,” Phineas said, pointing to the painting.
    “Ah yes, the golden age,” Neville cried.
    “What’s that?”
    Neville chuckled. “The golden age of science fiction.”
    “Oh, you mean back in the nineteen forties?” asked Kemp.
    “No, dear fellow. The golden age of science fiction is twelve. That’s the time when most of us discover it, and that’s when it’s best for us, right?”
    “Yes, I suppose so.”
    “Nothing to suppose. Look at all the adolescent male fantasies we used to write about. All those spaceships that looked like our dongs? Do you think that was an accident? Fuck, no!”
    Neville wheeled erratically and began walking down a long hall, motioning Phineas to follow. They entered a large room decked out with the latest communications and media gear — laser decks, computer consoles, telecom centers, monitors, hologrammers. It looked like the bridge of a movie spaceship from the eighties. At the opposite end of the room was a desk where a middle-aged woman dressed in nurse’s white was sitting studying a computer monitor.
    “This is the nerve center of the whole operation,” Neville said. “I call it the bridge. Pretty nifty, eh?”
    “Impressive, yes.” Phineas was getting a kick out of the old guy, and smiled easily.
    “And that old bag over there in the white clothes is my nurse, Ms. Jane Wilkins. Say hello to the colonel, Nurse Jane.”
    The woman stood up and smiled wanly. “You’ll have to forgive Dr. Neville, Colonel. He’s just had his nap, and he’s always a bit high-strung when he first gets up.”
    “High-strung? Listen, Colonel, Ms. Wilkins thinks I reached this ripe old age by playing by the rules, see? She doesn’t realize that I smoked a couple of packs a day for sixty years. That I could hold more Jackie D. than any writer since Dick R. Gordon.”
    Phineas laughed politely and searched for a place to sit down, selecting a couch in front of what was obviously Neville’s command chair and desk console.
    “Ah ... Dr. Neville, I think I’d —”
    “Listen, Phineas, don’t bother with the ‘Doctor’ business. I only make Nurse Wilkins do that when I’m feeling feisty.” Neville laughed at his small joke, reached down behind the desk, and produced a two-liter bottle of Jack Daniels. When he noticed Kemp watching him with an expression of genuine surprise, he smiled and paused before putting it to his lips. “Hah! Don’t worry about this. It’s not really Jackie D. I just keep my vitamin gruel in the old bottles. Kinda makes me think of the good old days when I could keep a fifth of that shit next to my chair leg and type out a whole book in one sitting. Sometimes I’d sit there for twenty-four, maybe forty-eight hours straight, just to meet a deadline. And ole Jack would always see me through. Some people said they were my best works — the ones I wrote when I was blind drunk. Funny how literature is, isn’t it?”
    “Yes it is,” Phineas said. “Now, I was wondering if we might get the particulars of this event ironed out.”
    “What’s to get ironed out? You want me to star in your documentary, right?”
    Phineas cleared his throat. “Well, not exactly star, but you would play a significant role. I’d like to arrange for you to meet with the leaders of the Saurians, and we would record the historic event live for a worldwide television audience.”
    Neville rolled his slightly bulging eyes for