George and Gina. An intelligent planet and his only human resident. (standard:science fiction, 8419 words)
Author: Oscar A Rat	Added: Jul 02 2020	Views/Reads: 1229/833	Story vote: 0.00 (0 votes)
George was a happy and successful planet until that thrice damned roach opera. At its conclusion, customers stomped the performers and left George, without paying their rent, all that is except Gina.

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Writing her name in greasy crud at the bottom of the sink, she pondered
which would be easiest, cleaning the sink or packing up and moving down 
the hall?  “Shit, easier to clean the sink,” she mumbled to herself, 
looking for a rag. 

Seeing his infrastructure going to hell, all those nasty weeds cropping
up in the cracks of sidewalks and thrusting their way through parking 
lots, George put an advertisement in Intergalactic News Service 
periodicals.  He wanted new tenants and was willing to give an 
incentive of cheap rents to get them. 

*** 

“Hey, Spike, you see this ad?”  Dirty Dog yelled across an eight-foot
space to his partner and fellow member of the "Filthy Mongrels" 
motorcycle club. 

“What the hell you mumblin' bout over there?”  Spike called back while
ignoring angry cries from upstairs neighbors, a pack of wombat druggies 
who partied all night and slept all day. 

“Says here, a whole damned planet with cheap rent.  Man, we'd have
entire continents with no cops.  And you sure as hell can't beat the 
price.”  DD screamed back at him.  “Let's get the boys and check it 
out.” 

“Wonder if they have motorcycle parts?”  Spike called back even more
loudly, wombat thumping being heard through the ceiling.  The Filthy 
Mongrels were soon on the move, to the everlasting delight of local law 
enforcement. 

*** 

“I say, Lady Cynthia.  Would you care to have a change, rather?”  Lord
James, reading a daily newspaper, saw the ad.  “I think I can hire a 
heavy-lifter for the castle, don't you know?” 

*** 

“Hey, Bruce,” Trent remarked to his friend and significant other,
“here's a place we can afford.  Plenty of room to be ourselves.”  He 
and his lover checked over the ad and Trent reached for the telephone.  
They told their friends, and soon several thousand prejudiced-against 
gay pink elephants changed residences. 

*** 

“The Lord giveth,  my children,”  Reverend Jones of the Universal Church
of Loose Ends told his congregation. “He hath provided.”  The members 
of his congregation filed out to sell their homes and give notice to 
landlords.   Half a million souls soon to be on their way to George. 

*** 

All over the known galaxy, cheap rent drew tenants.  The rich, the poor,
the misunderstood, the outright crazies.  A normal planetary mix. 

They came in space yachts.  They came in campers, in rented space ships,
even hidden in boxes through the Intergalactic Mail.  Some hitchhiked 
across the galaxy, others in every way imaginable with a few in 
stranger ways. 

For instance, there was Johnny Gates, who came in chains, the prison at
Alphosx III being both full and not being able to stand his 
complaining.  You see, Johnny was a lawyer, a species dreaded across 
the universe. 

Still, a planet -- and George wasn't a small one -- can take a lot of
population.  He already owned his share of cities and infrastructure.  
The latter, though going to pot, was still in fairly good shape after 
all those years.  With nothing else to do but humor Gina, George had 
plenty of time to work on it.  Although being able to do a good many 
things at one time, even a planet like George had limits.  He could 
only repair a certain amount of sinks at one time while mowing a set 
amount of lawns.  Slowly, things were going to heck. 

What he did neglect to mention in his ad was his wanderlust.  George
couldn't sit still.  He loved the wide-open spaces.  When the mood hit 
him, he would simply pack up and leave his cares behind. 

George's father sun had been a staid white-dwarf, his attention on a
cute red-giant drifting nearby.  With the resulting lack of attention, 
George took the opportunity to gradually, over millions of earth years, 
drift away into space.  When the young planet figured he was far enough 
away, he had yelled a goodbye to Papa and scooted across the universe.  
By that time, Papa's gravity was too weak to stop him. 

He had been a happy planetary bachelor until that damned Roach Opera. 

*** 

Johnny Gates, threatening lawsuits against his silent guards -- despite
their earplugs -- was unceremoniously dropped off on the cracked tarmac 
of George's lone spaceport. 

“And the broccoli was overcooked,” he told deaf ears as the guards
removed his cuffs and leg-chains.  Climbing back into the police-ship, 
the cops threw out Johnny's briefcase, bounced his computer off the 
tarred surface, and lifted off.  “I saw that, you oafs.  Malfeasance of 
Duty, I'll get right on it, you can be sure,”  he screamed at the 
already-lifting craft. 

Looking around, Johnny saw nobody else in the immediate area.  There was
activity in the distance but, apparently, the police from Alphosx III 
didn't want to be seen dropping off a lawyer.  They had left him in a 
remote corner of the vast open area. 

Now, how the hell do I get to civilization or whatever this is?  he
wondered, dreading a long walk. 

About that time, as he stood alone on the surface, Johnny saw a vehicle
speeding toward him.  It was a sort of taxi, he thought.  It helped to 
have "taxi" emblazoned on its top and sides.  The vehicle stopped next 
to him.  There was no driver.  Johnny stood and glared at the empty 
auto. 

“Well,” he finally asked, “are you going to pick up my bag and open the
door for me?”  The vehicle sat, waiting.  After a while, it started to 
move away. 

“All right, I get the message.  Hold on.”  Johnny picked his own things
up and opened his own door.  Some civilization, he thought, getting in. 
 “I hope you know I'm going to sue your boss?”  he told the absent 
driver. 

“Feel free, I don't have a boss,” George told him while driving away. 
“What kinda place you want, mac?  I got condos, I got town houses.  I 
got nice apartments, I got not so nice apartments, I got lousy dirty 
apartments.  I even got me fancy estates.  I gotta admit though, the 
estates are filthy.  They used to have Gina.” 

“What are the rents on a nice apartment, with or without Ginas?”  Johnny
asked. 

“58.98 credits without and free with ... Gina, that is.” 

“Is this Gina catching.  Will I get sick?” 

“Na.  Well you might.  She'll talk your head off.” 

“Diseases talk here? I'll sue.” 

“Nope, don't got no Sues, just Gina.  And now a whole lot'ta new fellas.
I don't know them yet, though.” 

“You mean Gina is a woman?  A woman what?”  This was a modern galaxy
with many different races, all equal under the law -- except for 
roaches, that is.  Roaches were slightly less equal than excrement.  
Not that there weren't any nice roach families, but in general. 

“Human, like you.” 

“Okay.  I don't have much, actually no, money.  I'll take one with
Gina.” 

“Hokey Dokey,”  George told him, taking the Camcrumpet Expressway to the
Cacrumville exit.  “Good.  She's bored with only me to talk to.” 

“And just who are you?  I don't see anybody.” 

“Why, I'm your friendly planet.  George, at your service.” 

“Planet? George?” 

“Sure, that's it. Planet George.  The whole damn thing.  That's me,” 
George told him proudly. 

They stopped at a large apartment house.  It looked expensive but the
purple grass was over a foot high.  Someone had better mow it, Johnny 
thought, or he'd sue the landlord -- or could he?  Of course he could.  
He'd never sued an entire planet before but must be able to under 
Intergalactic Law.  He would have to check once he settled in and found 
a few clients.  Johnny knew the value of money.  He couldn't do a 
damned thing without it. 

George let him out, that time opening the door for Johnny, who picked up
his meager luggage and went inside. 

He had to go more than halfway up in the large building before finding a
reasonably clean apartment.  They were a mess.  It was as though 
someone moved in, tore them up, and moved out again. 

Johnny found a comfortable and clean suite.  It even had food in the
cupboard.  No fresh bread -- George was behind in his baking -- but 
there were plenty of boxed crackers.  George was a hard worker for a 
planet but couldn't keep up the entire thing by himself.  That was why 
he needed a population. 

Johnny made himself a meal of canned cheese and crackers.  Then he went
into his new living room and sat down to plan a future.  It was nice to 
get out of that damned jail, even though he had been living in the 
executive suite.  The warden had been frightened of lawyers. 

No sooner did Johnny sit down than the phone rang.  It was George. 

“You're the only new resident in that area, Mr. Gates, can I call you
Johnny?”  George asked him. “I wondered what weather you would like 
tomorrow?  Gina's had her turn the last couple-hundred or so 'My' 
years.  Now you can have your favorite.” 

“Oh, let me think.  Sunny and clear sounds good.  Thanks, George.”  He
even forgot to threaten.  Kinda tired, though.  Wait until tomorrow, 
Johnny thought. 

*** 

On the way, George and Johnny had seen but hardly noticed a convoy of
rocket-cycles crossing the expressway at a red-light.  It was Spike, 
Dirty Dog and their entourage.  The group were headed for the sunset, 
or as close to it as they could get on a land-based journey. 

Since it was almost dark and with no place in particular in mind, the
group stopped in the city of Jaxill, a rather small one as cities go.  
Of course the stop was at a liquor store, the only such establishment 
they could see with a light on and open for business. 

“You guys wait out here.  Me and DD are going in for some booze,”  Spike
told his mob. 

The gang parked their cycles in a circle, rocket exhausts all pointing
toward the center.  That way they could cook fish they'd caught on the 
way by dint of dropping a hand-grenade in a lake.  They figured on a 
drunken orgy, then sacking out for the night.  It wasn't the gang's 
custom to drive while drunk.  The fish were gutted and hung from a 
sky-hook above and behind their engines which were turned on, in idle. 

“Hey, anyone here?”  DD asked, seeing no one behind the counter. 

“Yes, sir.  What's your pleasure?”  a pleasant female voice asked,
seeming to come from all directions.  The two looked around, waiting 
for someone to come from behind something.  Finally Spike asked.  
“Where you at?” An original inquiry. 

“I'm here.  What you want?  We got a special on caterpillar wine.  It's
in season?  Or some nice Erzstx Whiskey, guaranteed to go to your head 
-- not your ass?  And then there's our Xurgastrom Gin.  It will...." 

“Where the hell you at, bitch?  Show yourself or we'll kick your ass,
and I do mean now.”  Dirty Dog was becoming impatient. 

There was a sudden clap of thunder.  Rain came down in a deluge, both
inside and outside the store, drenching fish and cyclists, including 
Spike and DD.  A deep throaty male voice intoned angrily,  “It's not 
nice to screw around with nature.” 

The rain increased in volume, torrents inside the store knocking
displays down, with water deepening on the floor. 

“Sorry.  Sorry, sir,”  Dirty Dog managed to get out while groveling on
wet plastic tiles.  The rain and thunder stopped as suddenly as it had 
begun.  Everything was dry again.  Through the door, they could hear 
cursing from their companions. 

“Now, can I help you, sir?  As I was saying, the Xurgastrom Gin was a
special buy and, being a white beverage, goes well with fish,”  the 
sweet female voice told them. 

“Take your word for it, miss.  Give us a dozen bottles.... Please,” 
Spike had to force the unaccustomed word out. 

“Thank you for your business, sir.” 

A package appeared on the counter. “That will be 68.23 credits, sir, if
you please.” 

Spike put a 70-credit bill on the counter.  Promptly, 1.77 credits
appeared at the same time the bill left.  “Thank you again, sir.  And 
please don't make any messes outside.” 

“No, don't worry, miss, we won't,” Dirty Dog assured her. 

The gang still didn't know who was in charge but did know it wasn't
them. 

*** 

Lady Cynthia and Lord James arrived in a huge rental cargo ship, needed
since it included a very large and ancient British castle.  The ship 
resembled a giant box on steroids.  There were rocket engines and space 
inside for extra-large cargoes.  A six-inch command module jammed full 
of computerized molecules ran the craft, along with an ecological 
system in the rear.  The Lord and Lady, with their large stock of 
kippers and caviar, rode inside the castle.  With Star-Based 
holovision, they took little notice of the trip itself. 

Since their telephones, holovision and teleporter still worked, they
might as well have stayed in their old location. 

They did have to step out and stand aside as the castle was unloaded
onto George.  It was an Intergalactic Regulation, no passenger allowed 
aboard while loading or unloading a castle or other large building.  
The only exception, by law and special edict, being Roach Castles or 
Hotels.  A cockroach who wished to leave a planet was helped in any way 
possible. 

“Any place special you want this thing?”  a voice came from nowhere. 

“A nice mountaintop would be nice, please,”  the lady answered, long
accustomed to faceless servants.  A body-less one wasn't all that much 
of a stretch. 

“With a southern exposure, thank you,”  the lord interjected. “My
arthritis, don't you know?  I need the sun.” 

“Papa isn't around these days,”  the voice told them, whimsically, “I
can place a fake sun close by, though.  It should do.”  George had 
installed a number of artificial suns around himself, plugged into his 
North Pole.  One could be moved easily.  “And what about climate, sir?  
I have a full range available.” 

“Raa-ther?  I suppose a nice dry heat would be good for my ailments,
sir.”  The lady decided. “Oh, and a nice field for our polo ponies 
would be nice, thank you.” 

* 

Bruce and his lover, Trent, simply walked into town where they found
matching pink dump-trucks and a building with doorways large enough for 
elephants.  It was a ground-floor apartment that could accommodate both 
of them.  Their friends would be along in a few days, clearing up 
business first.  George would soon have a large, even if not 
self-sustaining, population of gay pink elephants.  Perhaps the largest 
such in the galaxy. 

* 

The Reverend Jones and his membership took over an abandoned city in the
south, one Gina had never gotten around to visiting. 

With the help of a busy George, new colonists were soon settling all
over the planet.  Having many simultaneous personas, he took care of 
each of them personally.   It was a fun time for George. 

*** 

One night when George wasn't watching closely, being busy in other
places, a rusty spaceship landed in an out of the way area of the 
planet.  The craft contained Zebidiah Zebisnski and his family of dread 
cockroaches. 

Now, roaches can be sweet and fun neighbors.  It's been known to happen.
 Maybe once in a millennium.  But most were like the Zebisnski family, 
simply pests.  They made Gina seem like a neatness freak.  Roaches 
caused fights, stole anything they could get away with and, if it were 
too big to move, killed or maimed it.  Not at all what you would like 
in a neighbor. 

Roach planets are always crowded -- no exceptions.  They're, like with
lawyers, used to sneaking around.  In time, they become sophisticated 
and learned friends.  But that takes millions of years on each 
individual roach-infested planet.  Eventually, they will reach the 
operatic stage of development, then suddenly digress to their original 
nature. 

The Zebisnski family contained ninety-six members including Zeb, his
wife Myrtle and a very nice but flighty daughter named Trina. 

Young Trina, five-foot-nine in height in her stocking feet and standing
on her back legs, was considered the white sheep of the family.  She 
kept her part of the nest clean, as well as herself, and even played 
the six-string-tuba.  Trina was a "throw-ahead" socially, millennium 
ahead of her family. 

The young female roach was especially enthused at their new planet.  It
was her first opportunity to split off and find herself a new home, 
away from the family influence.  She yearned to find a place for 
herself in "polite" society. 

“Poppy.  Sorry to leave you guys but I just have to find my own way in
the new world,”  she told him while hugging Mother.  The rest of the 
family appeared uninterested, although they all knew she was leaving 
the new nest. 

The family had picked a high-class apartment house and were busily
making it homey.  Some were throwing things around and having fun.  
Others backed up to walls, spraying excrement around.  Trina had to be 
careful, in her fancy red dress with yellow flower prints, not to be 
splashed. 

On her way out, she passed a trio urinating in a stairwell, watching the
stream flow downstairs.  Yes, there were, she realized while watching, 
many fun things she'd miss.  But Trina had a dream.  Her dream was to 
be accepted by other races.  The young roach was determined to achieve 
that fantasy, even if she missed such enjoyments.  She had learned 
discipline from her tuba teacher, and that not everything in life was 
meant to be fun. 

The outside of the building had already accumulated several banged-up
cars on blocks.  Even as she passed them, some of her brothers and 
sisters were tearing the doors off a new-looking auto. 

Trina found a taxi waiting at the curb, having no idea how it knew she
was leaving. 

“Where to, lady?”  George asked.  Nobody could tell him he couldn't spy
anywhere he damned well pleased. 

“I don't know, mister.  Somewhere I can make friends, I guess,”  she
told him. “I just don't seem to fit in here.”  Tears came to multiple 
eyes.  Fastidiously, she took off her panties to wipe them, not wanting 
to sully the dress. 

“I know just the place, miss, an apartment in Cacrumville.  It's got a
couple of nice people there.  I know you'll like Gina.” 

“Oh, would you?  Thank you, mister.”  Trina dried her eyes again before
putting on her underwear. 

“One other thing,” George mentioned on the way. “Since I can do anything
I want, how would you like to have a human appearance to other people.” 


“You can do that?”  She didn't believe it.  Nobody could do that. 

“Sure can.  I'm George.  I don't run this planet -- I am this planet.  I
know everything that's ever happened here.” 

Well, actually he didn't but she didn't have to know that.  After all,
he rarely had a chance to brag with Gina the only one around to brag 
to.  For instance, he hadn't known the roaches were there until after 
they were settled.   If he would have, they'd never have been allowed 
to land.  On the other hand, this one seemed nice -- and a planet 
needed a few roaches around, didn't it? 

Trina looked down at herself.  She appeared normal to her own sight,
with all six legs.  It was after dark when they arrived.  George turned 
the outside lights to the building on so she wouldn't get dirty going 
in.  She, like Johnny, had to go about halfway up in the building to 
find a clean apartment.  Of course, what was clean to Trina wasn't 
necessarily the same as to a human.  She was used to a lot of filth. 

*** 

George had a habit of delivering milk and bread to each occupied
apartment; a little quirk of his.  He was a conservative planet and 
believed that if you took care of the little things, the big ones would 
take care of themselves. 

A week later, Johnny wanted toast for breakfast so he stepped out of his
home to look for fresh bread.  He saw a gorgeous blond girl in the 
hallway, completely naked.  Being a cockroach that only looked human, 
Trina didn't bother to dress for the occasion of going outside her door 
for bread and milk. 

Hearing a door open, she looked over, saw Johnny, and gave him her
prettiest roach smile. 

“Good morning.  How are you?”  she asked while picking up her
perishables. 

“Uh, uh, I ... I ... hello there.”  Johnny wondered if he should remind
her of her undressed condition. But then, on George, it might not be 
illegal? “Nice day, isn't it.  For a tan?”  He went back inside, closed 
the door and backed up, leaning against it with heart pounding wildly.  
“What the hell?” 

*** 

Gina also rose early that morning.  She wondered who had moved into the
building.  On the way to the store the day before she had seen doors 
left open and dust disturbed in the corridors. 

While eating breakfast, she had an idea.   She would get up very early
the next morning and check the hallways.  If she found bread and milk 
outside an apartment, that would mean it was occupied.  The only other 
sign she had seen, so far anyway, of new residents was when she heard a 
cacophony of noise outside.  Gina had looked out her window, seeing a 
bunch of rocket cycles ridden by large dogs going by. 

Of course she knew George was encouraging renters but didn't think they
would be around in her area for a while.  After all, it was a large 
planet. 

*** 

The next morning, Gina rose the earliest she had in ages and dressed. 
Peeking her head out of her current abode, she looked both ways, seeing 
no milk bottles.  Looking down, hers were there.  After storing her own 
milk in the refrigerator, she put on slippers and began to search. 

On another corridor of her floor, Gina found two sets of milk and bread.
 Noting the apartment numbers, she kept searching.  It took about an 
hour but she found no more goodies in the entire building. 

Gina then went back to the two she had already found.  Sitting on a
chair at the end of the hallway, she waited. 

Now Gina wasn't bad looking for a three-hundred-year-old woman.  Her
family had always been long-lived in a long-lived society.  Also, years 
on George tended to vary a great deal.  Sometimes he felt cold and 
moved really close to a sun and some suns were tiny and cool.  Other 
times, with the larger ones, he stayed a long ways from their excessive 
heat, making for  longer years.  And of course there were occasions, 
while traveling, when time in effect stood still because he approached 
the speed of light.  So, you see, you can't go strictly by her age.  
But it was old by earth standards.  She was in fairly good shape, even 
though she had let herself go the last hundred or so.  And, of course, 
a word to George could get her as young as she wanted. 

But she couldn't hold the proverbial candle, nor even an Alphassaian
lighted-mite, which is tiny indeed  -- take my word for it -- to the 
girl she saw coming out for her own milk and bread.  That woman was 
gorgeous, with long blond hair and a fantastical shape.  And she was 
naked at that, so Gina knew she wasn't hiding anything.  Gina was 
immediately jealous, at first sight. 

Still, it was someone to talk to and she'd had only George for the last
couple-hundred-years or so. 

Gina went over quickly, to catch the woman before she went inside. 

“Hey!  Hi there, neighbor,”  she greeted Trina, who jumped back in
surprise. 

“Oh, hello.  You surprised me.”  Again, Trina smiled her most winning
roach smile.  “Come on in and have some breakfast.” 

*** 

Johnny had been up all night studying his Intergalactic Law books, as
condensed and impressed onto a line of tightly-woven molecules under 
his eyelids.  It was comprised of  three-hundred-seventy-seven volumes 
in the compressed version, referenced and cross-referenced according to 
several criteria. 

Yawning, he looked at a clock and saw it was close to breakfast time. 
After talking to George, he had learned that there were no other 
lawyers on the planet. 

At first, he had been thinking of accepting an offer from George to be a
planetary judge, then changed his mind.  Instead, he wanted to start 
the planet's first law school.  Since George paid well, either would 
solve his money problems.  The only fly in the ointment was that he had 
to draw up an agreement and sign it.  One saying he was not to ever sue 
George for anything.   For a lawyer, that option was unheard of.  The 
very thought made him shudder.  He'd be ostracized in his profession. 

In any case, Johnny went out to get his bread and milk.  Seeing it was
already collected from the door down the hall, he thought it a good 
time to get acquainted.  Going over, he knocked on the door.  The 
lovely blond girl opened it, giving him another sexy smile. 

“Oh, another neighbor?  Come on in, neighbor.” 

Trina showed him into her living room.  He was surprised to see another
woman there. 

“Have you met Gina?  She lives here, too.  We've been having a nice
talk.  Gina has lived here for ages.” 

The three introduced themselves. 

“And what do you do, Johnny?”  Gina asked, sipping coffee. 

“I'm going to start a law school here on George.” 

“Oh, goody.  We need more law.”  Gina was impressed.  He was handsome,
she thought, even if he was a lawyer. 

“Why you going to do something like that?”  Trina wasn't as impressed. 
Roaches don't care much for things like law or police. 

“To help people,”  he told her while chomping on toast.  Maybe they
could get George to bake sweet rolls? he thought. 

“Why?  I mean how do laws help people?  All they do is stop you from
having fun,”  Trina continued, becoming angry. 

“Without law, people take advantage of other people.  It sort of makes
things even,”  he told her. 

“But it's the lawyers who take advantage of other people.” 

“No we don't.  We only make certain they follow laws that legislators
make up.” 

“But, we ain't got none.  Legislators, that is.  If we ain't got no
legislators, we ain't got no laws either.  If we ain't got no laws, we 
don't need no freaking lawyers.”  Trina was becoming angrier by the 
moment.  Lawyers made life hard for roaches, trying to get them to 
clean up their messes, stop yelling, get rid of junk autos and that 
sort of thing. 

“Well, young lady, I'm going to make more lawyers and you better get
used to it.  And George said we can have politicians too.” 

“Then throwing you out of here isn't illegal, not yet I hope.  Beat it,
you bum.”  Trina jerked to her feet and pointed at the door. 

Seeing no recourse, Johnny stood up and left.  Not being a trial lawyer,
he had never learned to argue worth a damn. 

Johnny didn't know what to think when he got back to his apartment.  The
prettiest girl on his floor was angry at him.  Hell, she might be the 
prettiest girl on that part of the planet for all he knew.  And the 
other one wasn't bad looking, either.  Kinda hard-eyed, though.  He had 
seen eyes like that before, on very old women who had seen it all. 

At least, with the lack of population he wouldn't have to move.  Lawyers
usually lived in the immediate area of each other, since other people 
didn't understand them or want them around.  Lawyer ghettos sporting 
armed guards were a fact of life.  Johnny figured that his profession 
was slightly higher than roaches in popularity.  But they were usually 
rich and powerful -- so that more than made up for it. 

He also didn't know that, despite her actions, Trina actually had formed
a crush on him.  The way she figured, it would make her look good to 
her family to have a lawyer boyfriend.  They could use him in many 
ways, especially for free. 

When her and Gina parted, Trina went into her room to cry at losing her
temper at the handsome man. 

Gina, more abrupt, simply went over and knocked on his door.  Over the
centuries she had learned it was better to be direct.  The worse that 
could happen, since she was an expert in Kunk-Squat and Judo, was that 
she would have to kick his ass. 

“Hi, Johnny.  Just stopping in to say hello.”  Gina smiled, sticking her
foot against the inside of the door to keep him from shutting it.  
Another trick she had learned, like then stepping forward before he 
could stop her.  That way he would either have to invite her in or 
shove her backward. 

“Uh, come on in.  Gina, was it?”  He stepped out of her way before being
run over. 

“Oh, a nice apartment. I could use a cup of coffee, unless you have
something stronger?” 

“Yeah?  The previous tenant left a glob of whiskey around here
somewhere.”  He went to a cabinet, found a bottle of Mandingo Cowpie 
Whiskey and brought it back to the kitchen.  Gina was already sitting 
down, two empty glasses in front of her. 

“I don't have anything to mix it with.  I mean, there might be but I
don't know where.  I've been busy and haven't searched the place yet,”  
he half apologized, sitting down with her. 

“That's all right, I can drink it straight.”  She poured them each a
full glass.  “So, how you like George?” 

“He's different.  I never lived on a live planet before.  But he could
be in trouble, what with inviting all these people in.  I'll bet it's 
not long before he becomes infected with roaches.” 

“Come on, Johnny ... honey.  Everybody has roaches.  It's a fact of
life.”  When he didn't react to her "honey," she was encouraged.  You 
see, after hundreds of years -- even George years -- of forced 
chastity, a lady gets certain feelings.  And Gina was never one to hide 
hers. 

Among her centuries and their ups and downs, she's had a great many
stints as housewife, businesswoman, layabout and whore.  Occasionally, 
the whore part came to the fore. 

Johnny took a sip of his own drink, looking at the woman across the
table from him.  He had picked up on the word and didn't think it 
applied to bees, at least not directly.  Maybe birds and bees? 

But that was the way a lawyer processed data -- thinking of every
ramification.  Like all in his profession, he weighed each word, 
bouncing different meanings around the inside of his skull like 
ping-pong balls in a National Lottery ball-mixer before carefully 
inserting them into reconstructed and often hidden meanings. 

As he finished ruminating and sat his glass back down, Gina's hand
landed on top of his own.  Their eyes met, hers still hard but 
softening, seemingly deeper and dragging him in.  As they joined, 
figuratively, at the eyeballs, both hearts beat wildly. 

“I don't mind roaches,” a voice came from nowhere.  It broke the mood. 
Of course it was George.  “Except when they give operatic performances. 
 And then take my population.”  They could hear him sobbing, “I thought 
I was a good landlord.  I tried to be, really.”  He sounded so sad. 

“Now, now, George,” Gina tried to console the planet, “we know you do. 
Don't we, Johnny?”  She squeezed Johnny's hand with hers. 

“Yes, George.  You're a good landlord.  The best I've had and that's a
fact.  And the most intelligent too.” 

“You really think so?  I've never been good at math and laws leave me
cold.  Whenever I try a transcendental binary calculation ice builds up 
at my poles.” 

“Then why do you do them?”  Gina asked, curious.  She didn't know what
the hell he was talking about. 

“Well, every once in a while I feel like seeing my mother, over by Alpha
Centauri.  I always miscalculate and end up somewhere else.  I never 
get it right.” 

“What you need is a good SuperElecton computer to help.  It would do the
calculations for you,”  Johnny told him. 

“They cost billions of credits and I'm way in debt for maintenance costs
already,”  George replied. “It takes a lot of money to run an empty 
planet.  I'll have to wait until I collect more rent money before I do 
anything like that.” 

That took both of them by surprise.  They had never figured on a planet
having money problems.  What could they say? 

“But, uh ... well, what happens if you don't pay your debts?”  Gina had
to ask. 

“I hate to think about it, Gina.  It's horrible.  My creditors would
send machines and take everything of value from me, minerals, water, 
air ... everything.”  The planet shuddered in a minor earthquake at the 
thought.  The living room shook, a roaring sound coming in through the 
vibrating glass of Johnny's window. “That's how many moons are formed, 
from depleted planets.  They'd strip and sell me in slavery to another 
planet.” 

“Damn.  We have to do something about that.”  Johnny was shocked. 

“Oh, no!  We can't let that happen, George,”  Gina said, equally
shocked, all thoughts of sex driven out of her mind. 

*** 

Zebidiah Zebisnski and his wife Myrtle sped down the Camcrumpet
Expressway in a newly remodeled pickup truck.  Remodeled by removing 
two fenders and the rear bumper.  Elmer Roach, their son, had also 
banged it around with a tack hammer to make it look lived in.  The two 
were returning from a visit to Chiaago. 

The cargo space at the rear was full of dried pig-shit, a roach
delicacy.  When they'd lived on the planet Earth they couldn't afford 
pig-shit.   Here, it was lying around like ... well, like pig-shit. 

“Hey, Zeb.  Ya think we could stop for a pee?”  Myrtle asked, rubbing
her crotch with four of her legs. 

“Yep, we gonna do that.” 

He pulled into a circular driveway beside a newly-painted pink apartment
building --  stopping in a flower-garden next to the front door.  He 
had to park at an angle because Elmer had also busted the reverse-gear 
for them, so they couldn't turn around to leave. 

While Myrtle backed up to the front door, getting ready to spurt, Elmer
used a back tire for his own relief. 

They heard a loud roar, rapidly growing louder.  It was accompanied by
the whoosh of jet engines as a group of Filthy Mongrels sped past.  
With a screeching of brakes, they came back and drove into the 
driveway. 

“Roaches, dirty bastards,"  Jumping Jimmy yelled from his own filthy
muzzle, paws revving up his cycle. 

“We hates roaches but they done stomps gooder.”  Educated Elbert
laughed, getting off his bike. 

“I got a idea.  Let's stomp these,” Blacky suggested. “I's got on mine
stompin' boots.” 

“Go get them bastards, Blacky.”  Goober grinned, starting forward. 

Zeb spun away from the truck, still spraying potent liquid.  The
Mongrels knew better than to mess with roach pee.  The brave bikers 
turned and ran at Myrtle, who squatted -- her spray not as threatening. 


Bikers and roaches were surprised when five huge pink elephants
barrel-assed through the doors. 

“Oh, Bruce, look at the doggies.  I like doggies,”  Trent cried out
happily. He picked up Blacky like a puppy and petted him on the head.  
Deadly spiked boots scrambling in mid-air, Blacky could only whine and 
bark like the doggy he was.  His teeth didn't puncture Trent's thick 
hide. 

In moments, the Filthy Mongrels were reduced to a pack of whining dogs. 
To his surprise, Goober found he liked it.  When no one was looking, he 
licked Bruce's cheek. 

“Let's give them a bath?  What do you say, buddies?  Wouldn't that be
just, just, super?”  Trent added. 

Zeb and Myrtle, thinking themselves saved, sprinted for their truck to
get out of there.  They were stopped by a lesbian elephant named Peggy 
who thought Myrtle was cute.  The two roaches soon joined the not so 
dirty dogs in a hot bath and were scrubbed squeaky clean by giggling 
pink elephants. 

When the roaches finally left, they found their load of pig-crap done up
neatly in cardboard boxes tied with pretty ribbons.  Someone had even 
thought to wash and paint the truck and cycles. 

*** 

Reverend Jones took over a large cluster of college buildings for his
Universal Church of Loose Ends.  A large city nearby was earmarked for 
housing his current membership of half a million parishioners.  Two 
nearby towns were to contain new members.  He named the place 
"Jonestown," after another famous preacher and the whole area "Guiana." 


The good preacher set up his offices in a nearby Cool-Aid factory,
abandoned for the last three-hundred George years. 

As his people came to George, Reverend Jones immediately set them to
work in cutting grass and trimming trees, also cleaning houses and 
apartments.  Reverend Jones wanted a neat Christian city.  At the 
moment, Jones was personally cleaning the lunchroom of a cyanide 
rat-poison factory.  He felt he had to do his part, along with the 
others. 

As he cleaned, he considered starting up all those businesses.  He must
have plenty of ex-business types in his new parish, he figured.  Why 
not make a profit for the church? 

“Give me a sign, Lord, if you want me to go into the poison and Cool-Aid
businesses in Jonestown,”  the reverend yelled to an empty room.  There 
was a huge rumbling and the very ground shook under him.  “Thank you, 
Lord.”  As with many religious talismans, he didn't realize or care 
that that tremor happened to be the result of Gina's question to 
George. 

Since many of the new planetary residents were unemployed, they welcomed
the work.  So what if they had to profess interest in religion?  It 
didn't hurt any and they did get a job.  The movement was to spread 
throughout the continent, then to other parts of George. 

The more money Jones spent, the more he got back tenfold, as stated in
the Good Book.  His success escalated.  The church was, from the start, 
one of the wealthiest groups to move to George and soon its largest 
employer. 

*** 

On the other side of George, Lord James and Lady Cynthia also invested
their wealth to make George a better place to live.  Needing a steady 
supply of luxury goods, they started their own factories to manufacture 
them.  Also, since it was traditional in their family, they financed 
many farms.  That meant bringing in more colonists, which increased 
George's population and the need for more farms and factories to supply 
the new people as well as give them jobs.  Once started, the cycle 
escalated. 

The more people living on his surface, the less maintenance George had
to do personally.  Plumbers moved in to do the plumbing. Electricians 
took the slack in his electrical repairing duties.  And, best of all, 
people started mowing lawns themselves. 

George soon began taxing the population and was finally paying on his
massive debts.  He even raised his rents from nothing to very little. 

But a population brought troubles.  The dirty head of politics raised
itself.  Communities argued with each other, then fistfights broke out 
between them.  So far, George could handle it himself.  After all, a 
planet has quite a bit of power if it wants to throw its weight around. 


Give a town a week's deluge of rain, for instance and it cools off.  If
not, simply bake it under a hot sun for awhile.  George, being a nice 
guy at heart, didn't like that kind of thing.  He realized he had to 
let the people form some sort of government. 

George sighed heavily, shrugged another minor earthquake and went to the
only person he knew that could help.  Johnny Gates, the lawyer. 

*** 

By that time, Gina had her way and moved in with Johnny, who was almost
ready to start his law school. 

He had a building picked out, a former court house with plenty of fresh
paper and computers available.  It even contained a complete set of 
Intergalactic law books, written on paper.  A necessary item for a law 
school. 

The lawyer hired Trina Roach as a secretary.  She had gotten over her
anger and liked the idea of working at a real job.  Trina was the first 
cockroach to do so in her family's long history.  All she had to do was 
answer a telephone that didn't work yet.  She was learning to type and 
could shuffle papers with the best of them, although there weren't many 
"thems" around yet.  George, among many many other things, was teaching 
her.  A planetary brain like George's could do many thousands of things 
simultaneously. 

“I don't know, George,”  Johnny had to admit. “Starting a planetary
government from scratch isn't easy.  Guess you'll need one eventually, 
though.” 

“Soonest, Johnny,” George told him. “I feel an urge to try to see Mama
again.  Traveling takes most of my attention.  I need a government to 
help out during the trip.” 

“Then, I think you should have a dictator.  Temporarily, of course. 
It's the easiest to set up.  All you have to do is pick someone and let 
them have their way.  Of course, you'll need to back them up with 
prisons, torture, and stuff like that.” 

“How do I do it?  I had a democracy before but they all left.  I could
handle Gina by myself but with millions of residents now it takes all 
my time to keep an eye on them.” 

“Don't you have anybody in mind?   You have plenty of people to choose
from.” 

“Only you.  I need someone who know laws.  Otherwise I might get into
trouble with the Interplanetary Council.  Violating rights or 
environment laws or something.” 

“Why not Gina?  She knows how you like things?”  Johnny asked. “I can be
the legal adviser and still run my school.  Just think, while you're 
traveling I can drop new lawyers off all along the route.” 

“How long does it take?  To train a lawyer, that is?”  George was
curious. 

“With modern learning technology, about six months.  I kinda stamp the
law books into their brains with a machine.  Then I'll spend a little 
time indexing the books and training the students how to use the 
index,”  Johnny told the planet. “I add a few classes on public 
speaking and courtroom procedures.  That sort of thing.  The hard part 
is all the self-defense classes they need.  How to use firearms and the 
like.  Law is an extremely dangerous profession.” 

“Can you train politicians too?”  George asked. 

“Easy, lawyers make good politicians.  They complement each other.” 

Gina liked the idea.  It took seven months before the first set of
lawyers was ready.  Most of them stayed on George and went into 
politics with Gina in charge. 

Once they started and took the load off George, he could take off to
find his mama. 

*** 

Of course, George became lost again. He spent many years ambling around
the known and in some cases unknown universe.  George enjoyed the trip, 
though.   He finally ran out of steam, ending up at the fringes of the 
Minalicky galaxy. 

George found himself way out in the sticks, to coin a phrase, swinging
around a nice yellow dwarf-star.  She only hosted six unpopulated 
planets herself and was glad to have his company.  Being on the fringes 
with noone to talk to had become so lonely for the young, otherwise 
active, sun.  Also, being so young, she was attracted to mature and now 
nicely populated George.  In her eyes, George only had two failings.  
He was infested, by then, with both roaches and lawyers. 

Both had been multiplying since he'd started his trip.  Zebidiah
Zebisnski and his brood had almost taken over one entire continent, 
trashing it despite Dictator Gina's efforts to control them.  The 
roaches employed many of Johnny's graduates to represent them in court. 


The rest of Johnny's lawyers were employed by Gina to fight the roaches'
lawyers.  And both were constantly proliferating.  There were even a 
few roach lawyer politicians --  the lowest of the lowest of the low.  
Since the roaches were mostly on welfare and required public defenders, 
taxes had to be raised to pay even more government lawyers. 

Busy with traveling and now having a girlfriend, George had been leaving
his surface to Gina and Johnny to run. 

Finally having a new home and near a friendly female sun, George finally
turned back to internal matters. 

He found Gina overwhelmed with strife and rebellion.  The Filthy
Mongrels were always fighting lawsuits.  Even normally placid Lord 
James and Lady Cynthia had been convinced by a roach lawyer to file a 
couple.  Only the gay pink elephants had resisted, locking themselves 
into their compounds and threatening to stomp on any lawyers stupid 
enough to force their way inside.  The bloody remains around their 
homes brought on even more lawsuits.. 

“You're all fired!”  George yelled.  When a planet lets out a scream
like that, you know it.  Feeling it shaking violently, Gina and Johnny 
ran out of the Planetary Administration Building.  As soon as they were 
gone, the building exploded as George's anger hit it full force.  
Hundreds of useless bureaucrats were trapped in the rubble with nobody 
bothering to dig them out later. No matter, since they were easily 
replaced. 

Fed up, George made a deal with his new sun to lease several of her
planets.  He banished the roaches -- the ones who were unemployed -- 
onto one.  Most of the lawyers were forced by gunpoint onto another. 

Gina was forced to make a decision.  She opted to stay with George,
though Johnny left.  He and the other lawyers were angry, cursing and 
threatening about their banishment. 

With them gone, it became suddenly quiet on George.  With him back in
control, things settled down again. 

A few of the remaining roaches were musicians.  They taught more of
their people to play instruments and an opera company was planned.  
Trina finally found a use for her musical talent on the six-string 
tuba, and even learned to play belly-fart drums. 

Exiled lawyers rented spaceships with money sued from their new host,
putting that sun in debt to pay for commuter craft.  They then settled 
all over the galaxy but not on George, who threatened to kill them on 
sight.  Finally, Trina and Gina moved in together and lived happily 
ever after ... until the next roach opera. 

The End.


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