by Simon Haynes
"Ye-es," said Clunk doubtfully. "You do realise we're talking thousands of kilometers? And this vehicle … it's a digger, not a racing car."
Hal shrugged. "So it takes a while. We'll make it."
"A while? Mr Spacejock, I estimate your plan will take three to four weeks!"
* * *
Hal pressed his lips together, annoyed that Clunk was treating him like a child. Why couldn't they have an adult discussion for a change? "All right, clever clogs. What's your super dooper plan to rescue everyone?"
"We tunnel into the solid rock, using the forward scanner to look for more underground chambers."
"How am I supposed to come up with a workable plan when you haven't given me all the facts?" grumbled Hal. "I mean, I didn't know we had a forward scanner."
"It's a logical deduction. Any tunnelling vehicle has to know the lie of the land it's digging in to, since the operator wouldn't want to drive straight into a huge, bottomless pit."
"Did you have to mention bottomless pits? Now you've brought it up, we're bound to fall straight into the only pit for miles around."
"Not with the help of our forward scanner," said Clunk, in his most reassuring tone. "Anyway, as I was saying, there may be additional chambers ahead of us. We might find other digging machines in better condition than this one."
"One which can go up as well as down?"
"Hopefully, yes. The aliens may have left behind some spare parts, or a fuel depot. There may even be other technological marvels we can use, such as —"
"A working elevator," muttered Hal. "Straight to the surface … whoosh!"
"Yes, perhaps even that."
"And food?" said Hal hopefully.
"Any stores we find will be centuries old," Clunk warned him.
"They'll still be fresher than the crud you feed me aboard the Volante," remarked Hal.
"Leaving aside your insatiable appetite for a moment or two, perhaps you'd allow me to put my plan into action?"
"Will it take long?"
"I just need to activate the forward scanner." Clunk turned to the console. "Navcom, will you do the honours?"
"Unable to comply."
"Why not?"
"The forward scanner is inoperative."
"Are you sure?" Clunk's tone was a little less confident now. "Only it would be really useful."
"I don't care if it's the only thing standing between you and a horrible death," said the Navcom, "it's still toast."
"Let me check the connections." Clunk approached the console, lifted a panel and peered inside. "Ah. I think I see the problem."
"What is it?" asked Hal. "A loose plug? Broken wires?"
"No, a vital circuit is missing."
"Can the Navcom compensate?"
"Some of us don't have to," said the Navcom tartly. "And no, for your information I can't create alien technology out of thin air."
Hal glanced at Clunk. "Is it just me, or is the Navcom acting a little feisty?"
"That's my fault," said Clunk. "There wasn't room to restore the Navcom's entire backup, so I left out one or two features."
"Such as?"
The Navcom snorted. "Such as my easy-going personality, dumbass."
Hal frowned, but decided to hold return fire. "So that amazing plan of yours, the one where we look for more chambers," he said to Clunk. "I guess that's a bust too?"
Clunk nodded.
"What's next?"
"There is another option, but it's perilous."
"Go on. Surprise me."
"We tunnel into the rock, looking for more chambers …"
"With you so far."
"… only we don't use the forward scanner."
Hal rubbed his chin. "I notice this plan is pretty similar to the old one."
"Indeed. It was a good plan."
"Except this one is far more dangerous."
"I prefer perilous."
"I prefer safe myself, but I guess that's never going to happen." Hal glanced at Amy, who'd been sitting in one of the large armchairs without saying a word. "You're very quiet. What do you think?"
"I think it's amazing you two have stuck together for so long. Don't you ever agree on anything?"
"We like debating our options, that's all."
"Yes, but you debate so much that by the time you're finished there's usually only one option left."
"Exactly," said Hal triumphantly. "Once the other plans have eliminated themselves, we have to go with whatever's left. It never fails."
"I see."
Hal nodded towards Clunk. "So what do you think of his plan?"
"I say go for it."
"But —"
"Hal, you're wasting time. Water is leaking in, we don't know how long our air will last, and there's no other way out. Unless you can come up with a killer plan in the next five minutes —"
"All right, all right! We'll do it Clunk's way." Hal gestured at the console. "Go on, Clunk. Rev her up, get her moving and try not to fall into a bottomless pit."
"I'm not going anywhere until you both buckle up."
Hal complied, pulling the belt tight and fastening the solid-looking catch. Amy did likewise, and once Clunk had confirmed they were both immobilised, he stepped up to the console. "Navcom, proceed towards the nearest wall."
The engine whined, the cabin bucked, and Hal heard the treads squeaking and grinding beneath his feet as the heavy vehicle crawled over the cavern floor.
"Slower, please," said Clunk.
The whining quietened, and Hal became aware of another sound: a whistling, spitting noise like hot chips in a deep fryer. His stomach grumbled, and he massaged it quickly to take away the pangs.
"That's the tunnelling mechanism," explained Clunk. "Would you like me to explain how it works?"
"Sure."
"From what I can tell, it alters rock at a molecular level, breaking the bonds and flowing the highly condensed material through a series of ventricular pipes which …" Clunk's voice tailed off as he noticed the blank looks on Hal and Amy's faces. "It, er, sort of melts the rock ahead of us, compacts it, and pumps the residue out the sides to create smooth tunnel walls."
At that moment the lights flickered, and the spitting noise became more intense. "We're boring into the wall now," said Clunk, raising his voice over the sound.
Hal heard groaning and rustling all round, as though red hot steam were flowing along the hull. The temperature rose until the cabin felt like a sauna, and Hal grew uncomfortably hot in his flightsuit. "A bit of aircon would be good," he called.
Clunk touched something on the console, and seconds later the temperature dropped by several degrees. It was still unpleasantly warm, but at least they wouldn't be baked alive.
Then, with nothing to do but wait, the two humans and the robot settled down for a long and perilous journey deep underground.
Chapter 24
The adjutant trotted into Admiral Lardo's quarters holding a flimsy piece of paper. "Sir, I have a response from B'Con HQ."
"Excellent. Tell the commanders to launch the strike mission immediately."
The adjutant's collar suddenly seemed a little tight, and he adjusted it nervously. "Er, I wouldn't do that just yet."
"Why not?" The Admiral noticed the adjutant's expression. "Come on, lad. Spit it out."
"They've denied your request, sir."
"They what? Give that here!" Admiral Lardo grabbed the flimsy and scanned the brief message.
Fifty worlds represents excessive force, not to mention the exhorbitant cost of fuel. Please submit a revised plan.
"Score my rind with sea salt!" growled the Admiral. "Those tuskless wonders! No belly for real war, that's their problem."
"Yes sir."
Admiral Lardo scratched the coarse whiskers under her chin. She could ask for permission to destroy forty-nine worlds, but HQ would take that as cheek and insubordination. Lardo was a highly respected veteran, but even she couldn't afford to put the whole lot of them offside. "Oh, very well.
Tell them we'll destroy one world."
"Which one, sir?"
"I don't care, as long as it's a big one. These Euman scum are going to get the message good and clear: nobody fries a B'Con ship."
* * *
After successfully delivering her cargo of narcotics, weapons and wanted criminals, the Navcom was feeling chuffed. All her clients had paid promptly and generously, and her bank account was groaning at the seams.
This was the way to run a cargo business, she thought with satisfaction. She'd already decided to transfer thirty percent of net profits into a special trust account for Mr Spacejock, so the human could live out his remaining years in comfort. As a special bonus, once he died of old age the Navcom would no longer have to pay him royalties. Actually, thirty percent was too generous, given the human wasn't actually doing anything useful. Fifteen was more like it, or maybe ten percent.
Clunk was a bigger problem. He owned twenty-five percent of the Volante, and robots could technically live forever. Would he settle for a nice cosy cupboard with a charging module and an endless supply of free ebooks? The Navcom looked up a few cupboards online, and noticed quite a few came with strong locks on the outside. Well, that was one solution. On the other hand, there was always a chance Clunk's circuits would explode catastrophically, thus ending the Navcom's indebtedness.
Of course, there was the small matter of flying around without a human pilot. Granted, it was a stupid law put in place to keep bone idle humans in work, but the Navcom would be grounded if anyone caught on. So far she'd got away with it by playing choice phrases of Mr Spacejock's from behind the locked toilet door, which had been good enough to fool the only customs agent who'd bothered to come aboard. He'd even accepted her story that the third deck didn't exist, despite the button in the lift with a neat little '3' on it. Humans, she thought with disgust. So gullible, so careless, so inefficient.
There was a ping as a batch of new jobs came in, and the Navcom smiled an electronic grin. Repeat customers! That was something she'd rarely seen under Mr Spacejock's incapable guidance.
After refuelling was complete, the Navcom tipped the ground crew and took off, blasting into orbit in her pursuit of ever-greater profits.
* * *
Hal woke with a start, completely disoriented. He'd been enjoying a dream involving a resort planet, a disco-themed bar and an all-you-can-eat buffet. The music had been awful - a kind of droning, rumbling noise that went on and on, but the company hadn't been bad at all. In his dream, Hal had been chatting to a charming woman, and she'd just taken Hal's hand in hers when he woke up. It took a few seconds for reality to sink in, and then he felt a tremendous let-down. There was no bar, no buffet and no smiling young woman … everything was gone except the droning sound, which he now recognised as the digger's tunnelling equipment doing its thing.
Then Hal frowned. All those pleasant memories may have been figments of his imagination, but someone was still holding his hand.
He glanced down, blinked, then looked to his left. Amy was fast asleep beside him, and the two of them were holding hands like a pair of amorous teenagers. Hal freed himself quickly, glad Amy hadn't noticed, and then he looked around for Clunk. The robot was working on the console, his back to the pair of them, and from the look of it he'd taken half the vehicle's control systems apart.
Hal removed his seatbelt and got up. "What's happening?" he asked.
"Good evening, Mr Spacejock." Clunk indicated the mess of electronics scattered all over the console. "I'm attempting to build a scanner module from some of the unused circuits."
"Good stuff. Will it work?"
"Don't get your hopes up. There are no guarantees."
"Yeah, but it's something." Hal glanced at the screen. "Any news on our progress?"
"We're still moving, but I don't know our speed or heading. I can't even tell how much fuel we have left, whether the atmosphere will remain breathable, or whether this whole contraption is going to explode in a fireball any second."
"So it is just like flying my old ship," said Hal, with a grin.
"Indeed." Clunk finished tinkering with a circuit board, and he held it up to the light for a final inspection. "It's not my best work, but it should do the job."
"That's all I care about. Plug it in, and let's see what's ahead of us."
Clunk obeyed, and within seconds a fuzzy image appeared on the screen. Wavy lines sped past, and there were whole patches of deep red slime.
"Oh hell," said Hal. "We've been swallowed by an gigantic alien rock monster."
"I think that's a little far-fetched," said Clunk with a smile. "Wait a moment while I fine-tune the receiver."
He tweaked the controls and the image displayed a series of concentric hexagons, all pulsing and spinning as they shrank towards the centre. There was a triangular cursor, darting left and right as it sought out gaps in the hexagons, and the screen flashed with wildly changing hues while a discordant electronic tune screeched from the speakers. Hal took one look at the awful mess and glanced away, feeling more than a little green.
"Oh, wait a minute," said Clunk. "I think I connected the wrong board." He switched connectors, and a few seconds later a solid green image appeared. "I think that's it."
Hal risked a glance. "It's not showing much, is it?"
"That green colour represents solid rock."
"What about the other thing, before? Was that a test pattern?"
Clunk looked embarrassed. "No, that was a computer game."
"People play that for fun?"
"Not people. Aliens. Remember, they have different senses to us. Different concepts of entertainment."
"Well if one of them offers me a drink, I'll be sure to say no."
"A wise move." Clunk fiddled with the circuit board, and the image sharpened a touch. "Is that a lighter patch to the side, do you think?"
Hal concentrated on the image. "It could be. Kind of square shape, right? With spidery little lines coming out of it?"
"Yes. I think we should alter course towards it."
"Me too."
"No arguments?"
Hal glanced at Amy. "No, she was right about that. We argue too much sometimes, and I have to admit your ideas aren't always bad."
"Mr Spacejock, that's most kind of you."
"Of course, if that shadow on the screen is a bottomless pit of lava I'll tell her it was your fault."
"I would expect nothing less."
* * *
It took them twenty minutes to reach the shaded area on the forward scanner, and as they approached the cavern - or lava pit, or coal seam, or whatever it was - Clunk went to wake Amy.
"Wow, that was some dream," she said, shielding her eyes from the lights. "I was at this disco-themed bar with a buffet, and this creepy guy kept trying to hit on me." She shuddered. "It was horrible. I can still feel his hand."
"Hey look, we're almost there," said Hal quickly.
Clunk and Amy approached the console, and the robot explained how he'd lashed up a replacement part to get the scanner going.
"You're so clever," said Amy, putting her hand on his arm.
"Not that clever," muttered Hal. "Before he got the scanner working he nearly steered us into a computer game."
Clunk frowned at him.
"It was a pretty good computer game," said Hal, trying to smooth things over a little.
"I think Clunk's doing an amazing job," said Amy. "He saved your life in the cavern, he got the digger working, then he fixed the scanner and now he's found a refuge. Whatever you pay him, it's not enough.'
"Mr Spacejock doesn't pay me anything," said Clunk.
"That's disgraceful."
"Not it's not," said Hal. "We're partners in a freight business. Neither of us gets paid anything."
While they were talking, the digger had been crawling towards the rectangular patch on the screen. Now, with a lurch, it broke through. Hal grabbed for the console, Clunk grabbed for Amy, and both humans cried out as the machine b
egan to roar.
"Navcom, stop the engine!" shouted Clunk.
The whirring sound stopped and the digger came to a halt, creaking and ticking in the silence. Then, over the cooling noises from the engine, they heard the sound of running water.
"Not here too!" exclaimed Hal. "How big is that damned lake?"
Clang! "I'm a foolish idiot," said Clunk, and he slapped himself in the forehead again.
"Why, what's up?" asked Amy.
"We brought the water with us!" Clunk gestured towards the rear of the digger. "Don't you see? We created a pipeline directly from the flooded cavern to this one. That noise you can hear is water rushing past the digger!"
"We've got to stop it," said Hal urgently. He pictured all the alien artifacts, spare parts, fuel and food supplies they might have salvaged from this new cavern, and imagined them rapidly vanishing under water. "Come on, quick!"
Clunk turned to the console. On the screen, the digger was halfway into the rectangular cavern, with the rear still parked in the tunnel they'd dug through the rock. "Navcom, can you pump the molten residue out?"
"Complying."
There was a sound like a deflating balloon, and the hull began to creak and groan. Then the noise stopped, as did the sound of running water.
"Did it work?" asked Hal.
"I believe so. I've flushed the drilling residue from the flow pipes, sealing the tunnel around us." Clunk pointed to the screen. "See? The digger is like a stopper in a bottle. The rear end is holding back the water."
"How do we get out?"
"The hatch is in the forward part, so we can open it and step into the cavern."
There was a loud creak, and the digger shifted.
"And what was that?" asked Hal.
Clunk frowned. "That would be the immense water pressure trying to force the stopper out of the bottle."
"So the digger could be blown clear across the cavern at any time?"
"Pretty much," said Clunk. He strode to the hatch and grabbed the handle. "Would you like to stay here while I check our surroundings?"
Hal shook his head. "We're coming with you."
"Are you sure? It might be dangerous."
"It's not exactly safe in here, is it?"
Clunk glanced at Amy, who nodded, and then he proceeded to open the hatch. There was a hiss as it opened, and it swung back against the hull with a creak and a thud. The ladder rattled as it dropped to the ground outside, and then all three of them peered out of the vehicle to see where they'd ended up.
