Hal Spacejock 6: Safe Art

by Simon Haynes

  "Would you like a demonstration?" asked Clunk.

  "Only a moron would have trouble with something this simple."

  "Precisely, sir. Would you like me to demonstrate?"

  "No! Stop fussing and leave me alone."

  "As you wish, sir. Let me give you plenty of room." Clunk backed out and closed the door, accidentally tripping the catch by turning it to the left, giving it a wiggle and pressing down hard with both hands. He could just hear Hans through the thick wall, demanding delicacies and generally treating the AutoChef like dirt.

  Clunk strolled round the corner and took up a position behind a partition. He felt a little guilty about locking the door, but accidents happened. "Navcom, are you recording?"

  "Yes indeed. This is going to be even better than the time Mr Spacejock lost the battle with an airlock."

  "How much ad revenue did you make from that one?"

  "Enough for a few choice upgrades."

  "This one should pay for a whole new operating system."

  Clunk peered over the top of the partition, just like a small boy spying on the neighbour's swimming pool. The anticipation was building, and the hours of mistreatment he'd suffered at the human Hans' hands - or was it at the hands of the human Hans? - were about to be repaid in full.

  At first, nothing untoward happened. The machine served Hans meekly, depositing a paper cup in the dispenser and filling it with foaming hot chocolate. When Hans bent to pick it up … Pow! A meatball shot out of the dispenser and hit him right between the eyes, sending him staggering backwards. He slammed into the wall, shaking the entire cube, and the AutoChef tried to machine-gun him with a volley of frozen peas. Clunk winced as the icy balls snapped and cracked on the clear wall, and he heard Hans yelling as the stinging shots smacked into his skin.

  Hans pounded on the door, shouting for Clunk to let him out. Clunk turned his hearing down.

  The AutoChef spewed plastic knives and forks, and Hans ran behind the machine to avoid the barrage. He looked out once or twice, judging the distance to the door, but each time the AutoChef unleashed a mist of boiling water. Fortunately for Hans, the machine couldn't turn to face him. Unfortunately for Hans, the AutoChef ran off the ship's waste matter, and the connecting pipe ran straight up the back.

  There was a hiss as the pipe came free, and it started whipping around like a frenzied tentacle, spraying the inside of the cube with thick, gloopy muck. Hans disappeared in the evil-smelling fog, and the last Clunk saw of him was two hands sliding down the wall, palms outwards and fingers clawed.

  "Whoops, sorry sir," murmured Clunk. He glanced at the camera housing in the corner of the lounge. "Navcom, did you get all that?"

  "Uploading it now."

  Clunk smiled to himself. In a matter of hours, Hans was going to be famous with computers and robots clear across the galaxy. "Are we still on track for landing?"

  "ETA confirmed."

  "Excellent. I wonder how Mr Spacejock is doing?"

  * * *

  When Hal and Harriet arrived at the Pegzwil spaceport, they were indeed entangled. Hal told himself they'd fallen into each others' arms to ensure they didn't stumble against the walls. Grabbing hold of each other was a wise move given the subsequent roller-coaster ride: raging emotions, shaking knees, a warm inner glow and a floor that wouldn't stay put … and that was just when Harriet laid her head against Hal's shoulder. As for the effects of the teleporter, he'd not been paying attention.

  The cosy cuddle was interrupted by a sharp voice. "What the hell?"

  Hal poked his head out of the cabinet. Just below him, on the main floor, the scientist's older son had stopped midway through his sales pitch, the glossy brochures still being waved at a large crowd of tourists. "Hi Kurt. How's it going?"

  "What … where … how?"

  "Hey, can you do me a favour?" Hal stepped from the cabinet, and the crowd drew back as though he was about to morph into a vicious space monster. Then Harriet stepped out behind him, and at the sight of her uniform the entire crowd edged away.

  "Thanks for nothing," groaned Kurt. "Some of those punters were getting ready to sign." Then curiosity took over, and he studied Hal more closely. "The old man's contraption really worked, huh? Anything out of place?"

  Hal checked his fingers, wiggled his toes and jiggled his loose change. "All present and correct."

  "And your partner? Nice to meet you, by the way."

  Harriet introduced herself, and they shook hands. She still looked dazed, and Hal offered her his arm. "Come on, let's find you a strong coffee."

  "Wait a minute," Kurt called after them. "I have to know what it was like."

  Hal tapped the side of his nose. "A gentleman never tells." He started to lead Harriet away, then paused to call over his shoulder. "By the way, you'd better disconnect that thing. There are four thugs on the other end who might try to follow us through." Then he frowned. "Speaking of which, I hope your dad will be all right."

  Kurt made a dismissive gesture. "He can talk his way out of anything. If they're really lucky, he'll only sell them a bunch of shares."

  "But you will switch the machine off?"

  "Sure." Kurt reached for the console, then stopped. "I'll do it, as long as you come back and tell me what the trip was like."

  "What sort of threat is that? If you don't do it, they'll be on you any minute." Hal relented. "All right, when this is over I'll tell you all about it."

  "Thanks, Hal. And good luck!"

  As they left the central plaza, Hal realised the Pegzwil Spaceport was modelled after a rustic alpine village. The shops had rough-hewn log walls, with steeply sloped roofs and leadlight windows. As he got closer he realised the 'logs' were hollow plastic, and the attractive-looking windows were single sheets of glass with the 'lead' strips painted on.

  Then Hal spotted a brightly-lit coffee shop, and he led the unresisting Harriet to a small table. "Wait here," he said, ignoring her protests, and he went to sort out two large mugs of post-teleporter essentials.

  Chapter 14

  Thud!

  Clunk frowned. What was that? The sound had come from outside the ship, but they were in deep space.

  Crash! Clonk!

  Clunk's frown deepened. Ordinarily he'd assume Mr Spacejock was off doing something unwise or downright dangerous, but the human wasn't aboard. As for Hans, the stand-in pilot, he was sitting in a trance with only the occasional twitch to show he was still alive. No, this was something else.

  "Is something hitting the ship?" Clunk asked the Navcom.

  Tink! Thud!

  "Indubitably," said the ship's computer.

  Seconds later the lift doors swept open, and Clunk hurried into the flight deck. One glance at the screen was enough to make his cooling fluids freeze: They were flying full pelt through a cloud of asteroids!

  A huge rock came flying towards the screen, and Clunk ducked as it skated off the top of the picture. "Emergency dive!" he shouted, putting all his training to good use. "Full reverse thrust, rudder hard-a-port … man the lifeboats!"

  Clang!

  Thud!

  The Volante's engines roared as the ship came round in a tight turn, and the asteroid field slid towards the side of the screen.

  Ting!

  Clunk looked up. "Ting? What sort of rock goes ting?"

  "It must have been a little one," said the Navcom. "That was nicely done, Clunk. You handled the situation well."

  "No thanks to you. I left you in control!"

  "This is an uncharted asteroid field. Had I been aware —"

  Clonk!

  "Never mind," said Clunk. "We survived, and Mr Spacejock is none the wiser."

  Soon there was nothing ahead but inky darkness, and Clunk had just relaxed when there was a hefty jolt. The screen panned to the right, and he saw a large rock tumbling away from the ship, heading straight towards the massed asteroids.

  Clunk frowned at the screen. "How unusual. That asteroid has ropes on." Then realisation dawned
, and he stifled a very human oath. "Navcom, Bright's Hairpiece just came loose!"

  * * *

  There was a moment of silence as Clunk gazed at the screen, stricken by the enormity of the situation. Then he took charge in typically decisive fashion. "Full ahead both engines. Follow that rock."

  The Volante began to accelerate, chasing down Bright's fugitive Hairpiece. The asteroid grew larger on the screen, briefly, but before they got anywhere near it the rock sailed through a wall of slow-moving boulders. The ship's engines switched to full reverse thrust, and the Volante came to a halt several hundred metres from the edge of the asteroid field.

  Clunk watched Hairpiece disappear into the asteroids, cannoning into rocks and boulders like a well-aimed billiard shot.

  "You still have Bright's other artworks," said the Navcom, after a lengthy silence.

  "That rock was the centrepiece of the exhibition." Clunk zoomed the screen out and rotated the display. "Perhaps we could pick it up round the other side."

  "The asteroid belt is thousands of kilometres across. It will take at least six months for that rock to clear it, assuming it isn't smashed to pieces."

  Clunk thought for a moment, then gestured at the screen. "There must be thousands of rocks out there. All we have to do is find another one to match Bright's."

  "You can't be serious."

  "Deadly. Replay the vision of Bright's rock sailing for parts unknown, then scan it and find the best match within reach. I'll fetch the replacement with the jetbike, and we'll be on our way in no time."

  "It seems a little … deceptive."

  Clunk sighed. "I don't like it, but it's the best we can do. Scan the fleeing rock. Mass, volume and shape."

  "Complying."

  On screen, the vision played in reverse, bringing the rock whizzing back towards the ship. The image froze just before the brown shape vanished off the bottom, and a green mesh appeared, wrapping it up and adapting to the shape. Rows of figures scrolled past, getting slower and slower before stopping altogether. "Rock scanned," said the Navcom, with a satisfied beep.

  "Show me a live picture," said Clunk.

  The rock disappeared and the asteroid field came back.

  "Now find the closest match within range."

  "It'll take some time," warned the Navcom.

  "Understood. Report to me the instant you find one. In the meantime, I'll make another cargo sling and prepare the jetbike."

  Hal glanced at the arrivals board while he was waiting for his coffee. The board was the latest model, capable of analysing nearby targets with a battery of cameras, and deducing their tastes from their clothing, accessories and general appearance. This board went to work on Hal, criss-crossing his face with red lasers, measuring his clothes with green lasers, and estimating the size of his wallet with blue ones.

  Then the ads appeared: ladies shampoo and conditioner, support underwear for the elderly, cut price cat food and a particularly grating effort for ship rentals. Hal looked away and muttered 'La-la-la, can't hear you,' under his breath, negating all the money and research advertisers had poured into the board. When the ads were finally done, he glanced up again to see whether the Volante was due.

  "We'll present the arrivals in just a minute. But first, this sneak preview from our smash hit show 'Oh Dear, Humanity!'"

  Hal pursed his lips. He'd caught Clunk watching the show in the past, and he couldn't see the attraction. It consisted of lame clips of humans causing minor injuries to themselves, but the mildly amusing videos almost blew Clunk's fuses every time they came on. The robot would point and laugh, giggle helplessly, fold himself double and inevitably end up rolling around on the floor, holding his sides and struggling for air. Hal always knew when the show was on, because it sounded like someone was booting a dustbin around the flight deck.

  Hal wondered what life was like before robots, when such mindless crap would never have made it to air. He eyed the screen, where a well-built guy in a red T-shirt was ordering an AutoChef around. Pow! Despite himself, Hal snorted as a meatball bounced off the idiot's head and ricocheted around the enclosure like a rubber ball. He sniggered as a fountain of frozen peas pinned the twit to the wall, and then he gaped as he spotted a familiar bronze figure in the background. Before he could react, the titles came up.

  "Tune in tonight for 'Oh Dear, Humanity'," said the announcer. "At forty credits an episode, it's the most laughs you'll get all year."

  Hal swallowed. That wasn't Clunk, and he hadn't just watched a clip of the AutoChef roughing Hans up aboard the Volante. He kept telling himself this while he collected the coffees, and he was still denying it when he reached the table where Harriet was waiting.

  "They didn't what?" asked Harriet.

  "Huh?" Hal blinked. "I'm sorry?"

  "You said 'They didn't. They couldn't have.'"

  "Oh, that." Hal shook his head. "I thought they'd forgotten my sugar."

  "I thought you'd heard something about the gunfight at the Forzen spaceport."

  "That news won't get here for hours. We teleported, remember?"

  "I know," said Walsh, with a frown. She held out her hand, and Hal saw she was holding his watch.

  "Where did that come from?"

  "I just found it on my wrist."

  "But … how?"

  "Ask your teleporter scientist," said Walsh.

  As Hal fastened the watch, he wondered whether any other items had transferred between himself and Harriet. A watch wasn't too bad, but a wallet could be a problem, and as for underwear …

  "I really need to report in," said Harriet, interrupting his train of thought. "That Higgs woman will be on the run, and —"

  "You're not going anywhere until you finish that coffee," said Hal firmly. "Five minutes won't hurt."

  Harriet took a sip, smiling at Hal over the rim of her mug. "Do you remember that Spaceport cafe on Forzen last year, when I asked you to Miranda's party?"

  "I'll never forget it."

  "Good times, eh?"

  "The best."

  They were silent for a moment, and then Hal frowned. "Er … should we be talking about this?"

  "What do you mean?"

  Hal gestured at her uniform. "The bug. All those Peace Force officers standing by to rescue you."

  Harriet flushed. "Oh, yes. About that …"

  "Don't worry, I worked it out ages ago," said Hal, neglecting to mention it was Clunk who'd revealed the truth. "I know there's no bug."

  "I'm sorry about the deception, Hal. The bug was supposed to …"

  "Keep me at arms-length," finished Hal. "Harriet, you know me better than that. I know how much the Peace Force means to you."

  They sat in silence, sipping the hot coffee.

  "So, about the Peace Force," said Hal at last. "No regrets? All that training? The danger?"

  "It's been fine so far."

  "All great, except for the occasional gun battle."

  Harriet ignored him. "After a couple of years I can switch to full time study. They offer university courses, and after you graduate you can move into a completely different career."

  "Anything take your fancy?"

  "I always wanted to be a scientist. It was my favourite subject at school."

  "Mmm. I could just see you in a starched white labcoat."

  "You could imagine me in just about anything." Walsh drained her mug and got up. "Come on. I have to report in."

  "I've been thinking about that. You can't show up at the Peace Force office now."

  Harriet frowned. "Why not?"

  "You're supposed to be travelling aboard the Volante," Hal pointed out. "Clunk hasn't landed yet."

  "But I have to report Higgs and the rest of the gang."

  "What about an anonymous tipoff?"

  "As soon as I speak they'll know who I am. My voice print is on file."

  "They don't have mine."

  Harriet looked doubtful. "Are you sure about that?"

  "What do you think I am, a career crim
inal or something? Come on, let's find a public terminal."

  * * *

  Clunk roared towards the asteroid field aboard the Volante's jetbike, hunched over the handlebars like a tour rider on a long downhill run. There was no headwind in space so his stance was completely unnecessary, but Clunk felt it was appropriate under the circumstances. The Volante was supposed to be halfway to planet Pegzwil by now, not parked up in space like an oversized motor home.

  Clunk glanced back at the makeshift sling he was towing behind the jetbike. He'd used twice as much rope this time, and it had more buckles than a multi-car pile-up.

  Clunk ducked his head to avoid a jagged piece of stone the size of a groundcar. He twisted the handlebars to angle the bike between two enormous boulders, then turned hard right and accelerated. Three more rocks tumbled by, and then he spotted the target. At first glance it looked identical to Bright's Hairpiece, and Clunk hoped fervently that a glance was all anyone else would spare it. Stopping the bike alongside, he unhooked the netting and began to work it over the cracked and pitted surface, standing up in the saddle to reach over the top and hanging low off the bike to deal with the underside. It took longer than expected, because the metal buckles kept snagging on the surface. Clunk pulled hard to free them, only to see them snag again. It was puzzling, because the surface of the rock wasn't that jagged, and he couldn't see what the buckles were sticking to. Then he felt the jetbike moving towards the rock of its own volition, and he only just got his leg out the way before the two slammed together. Clunk tried to pry them apart, and that's when he realised the truth. The huge rock was magnetic!

  Clunk had noticed the pull on his components, but his chassis and skin were alloy, and immune to the rock's attraction. The jetbike, on the other hand, contained a fair bit of steel. Clunk struggled to lever them apart, pushing the rock away with his arms and legs before opening the throttle with his spare hand.

  The jetbike's engine laboured mightily, and for a split second it was touch and go. Then, with a rush, it shot away from the rock, pulling the net tight with a springing jolt. Clunk hung on grimly as the bike bucked and jerked, the nose hunting all over the place as the engines fought against the huge weight. Then, slowly, the rock began to move, and Clunk started the long trek back to the Volante. Magnetic or not, this rock was the only match for Bright's missing Hairpiece, and it would just have to do.