Hal Spacejock 7: Big Bang

by Simon Haynes

  It was dark in the cavern, and there was a steady drip-drip-drip as unseen droplets fell from high above. There was a faint musty smell, as though they'd just broken into an ancient tomb, and Hal hoped that a mildly unpleasant aroma was the worst thing they'd encounter in the underground chamber.

  Chapter 25

  "Sir, I have a message for you."

  "It's about bloody time," growled Admiral Lardo. "Those clowns couldn't organise a mud bath in a —" Just in time, she remembered the exalted company she was referring to, and she bit off the rest of the sentence in a hurry. "Give it here, quickly."

  By order of the full Council of Galaxies.

  You're authorised to destroy one (1) Euman freighter crewed by a single (1) AI.

  You're not to destroy any planets (0), moons (0), or sentient life forms (0).

  No excuses (0) and no exceptions (0).

  Message ends

  Lardo crumpled the missive, swearing under her breath. In her experience, stomping out the entire Euman race was the only way to discourage further attacks, and the Council's pathetic response was so diplomatic it would barely cause a ripple. There was the embarrassment factor to consider as well. The Admiral had made several grand statements in front of her officers, detailing all the horrible things they'd do to these thrice-damned Eumans, and now she'd have to take it all back. Humiliating, that's what it was.

  Unfortunately, the Council's legendary team of lawyers had drafted a watertight note, leaving her no room for creative interpretation. Lardo frowned. Unless … yes! Her brow cleared, and she signalled to the adjutant.

  "Yes, sir?"

  "Assemble the officers. Tell them we're going to war."

  The adjutant frowned. "But sir, the message —"

  "Shall I have you executed for reading state secrets?"

  "N-no sir. But —"

  "You have your orders. Go."

  Ten minutes later Admiral Lardo rolled into the briefing room, her stumpy legs carrying her with unseemly haste. "Fellow officers," she said, acknowledging their salutes. "I'm delighted to announce we're going to war with the Euman race."

  There was a huge roar of approval, with scenes of backslapping and trotter-shaking amongst senior ranks, and repeated high-threes for the junior officers. The atmosphere was electric, and Lardo's chest swelled with pride as she enjoyed the moment. Then she caught the adjutant's eye, and she realised it was time to wind things back a touch.

  "Now, the Euman scum have already launched one successful attack on our fleet, and we can't risk another."

  "A round of planet-crackers will stop 'em dead," shouted an elderly commander.

  "Yes, but the Council wants a clean strike, and that means we have to take out their intel first."

  There were frowns at this. The B'Con empire usually marched in with all guns blazing, and subtlety wasn't a big feature of their battle plans.

  "The Euman's have a command ship in their galaxy. It travels alone, it's unarmed and it's piloted by a single AI. Before we attack their planets, we must locate and destroy this ship." Admiral Lardo glanced at the adjutant, and she saw comprehension dawning. "Unfortunately that's all we know."

  "So we jump in and destroy every Euman ship on sight?" demanded a young commander.

  "No-o, not quite." Lardo realised she had to rein them in further. "Before we do anything, and I mean anything, that could be considered an act of war, we must locate this command ship and destroy it."

  There was a lengthy silence. "Just one ship?"

  "Correct."

  "With a single AI on board?" a female officer called out.

  "Initially, yes. That's the plan."

  "And once it's destroyed, then we blow up their entire galaxy?"

  "Not immediately, no. Once this ship has been destroyed, you're to report back. No further action until my say-so. No Euman casualties."

  "We're not killing any Euman scum at all?" said someone incredulously.

  "No sentient beings of any kind. No planets either, and no other ships."

  There was another long silence.

  "And then we wait for the order to attack?" called an elderly grenadier.

  "No, then you report back to me." Lardo shuffled a couple of pages on the rostrum. "In person," she added.

  "You mean … leave their galaxy? All of us?"

  "Most of you won't be going," said the Admiral, hating every word she was forced to utter. "This first strike is surgical. Highly targeted. Therefore, I'm only sending three ships."

  The silence lasted longer than ever, and nobody was back-slapping or roaring now.

  "But sir —" protested a lone voice.

  The Admiral raised her trotter. "I know, I know. But remember, once the proper war starts there'll be promotions and bonuses for everyone. However, in the meantime we must follow the Council's rules of engagement."

  The most senior commander stood up. "Admiral, we understand the need for caution where these Euman scum are concerned, but when the time comes I promise we'll lay our lives on the line to protect the glorious B'Con empire."

  "I would expect nothing less."

  * * *

  Clunk activated his chest lamp, sending a powerful beam into the darkness. It picked out several wheeled vehicles, a couple of irregular shapes under dust sheets, and a stack of sealed crates. The crates were long and flat, dark green, but before Hal could get a proper look the light faded to a dim glow.

  "What happened?" asked Hal.

  "I enabled battery conservation mode," said Clunk.

  "You're not going flat, are you?"

  "No, I'm just saving power for when I really need it."

  "Good, because we need you to get us out of here."

  Clunk played the dim light over the vehicles. Each was an electric two-seater, little bigger than a golf cart, with a sturdy white roll cage and fat balloon tyres. They had a simple control column and a digital dashboard, and when Clunk turned the power on the batteries showed a full charge. Unfortunately they didn't have tunnelling attachments, and they wouldn't have dug their way out of a paper bag. After finishing his inspection, Clunk abandoned them and moved to the dustsheets.

  "Amy, if you will?"

  Together they pulled the dustsheets off, and Hal shook his head as a couple of 'copters were revealed. He'd piloted one of the alien flying machines before, and a very thrilling ride it was too. Unfortunately, down here they were about as useful as a room full of politicians.

  That left the sealed crates. Each was moulded from dark green plastic, about two metres long with fluted sides and three catches on the lid. Clunk was just about to open one when Hal stopped him. "Wait!"

  "What is it, Mr Spacejock?"

  "Look at them, will you? The shape, the catches … what if they have bodies inside?"

  "I hardly think that's likely. An advanced alien race wouldn't leave their dead behind."

  "What if they had no choice? What if they never left at all? Imagine them dying off one by one, with the survivors packing stiffs in these crates until there was only one left?"

  "And this remaining alien … he or she conveniently passed away in a coffin, then closed the lid and sealed the catches by remote control?"

  Hal glanced over his shoulder. "Who said they all died? Maybe one of them's watching us from the shadows."

  Clunk ran his finger over the nearest crate, then held the tip up for inspection. "These crates haven't been disturbed for decades. Centuries, even."

  "So? They're aliens, Clunk. Maybe they live for centuries."

  "Maybe these crates contain ordinary supplies, and your imagination is running wild."

  "Or maybe these crates really do contain bodies, and your imagination is defective."

  Snap! Snap! Snap!

  They both spun round at the noise, and Hal saw Amy peering into the nearest crate. Before they could stop her she reached inside, and then she held up a plastic bag full of electronic components. "I don't think they're body parts, unless your aliens are bionic."r />
  "She's big on direct action, isn't she?" remarked Hal.

  "A little impulsive, yes."

  Amy opened a second crate, and Hal caught the faintest whiff of something appetising. "Is that food?"

  "Looks like it." Amy took out a small cardboard box, opened the lid, then smiled. "It's a hamburger!"

  "Excellent. Is there any sauce?"

  "You can't possibly eat that!" protested Clunk.

  "Why not?" said Amy. "It smells all right to me."

  "It's centuries old!"

  "These junk food burgers contain so many preservatives they never go off. Anyway, I'm starving." Amy took a bite, chewed for a moment or two, then shrugged. "A bit dry, but it tastes okay. Here, Hal. You try one."

  Hal caught the burger and sniffed at it suspiciously. She was right though … although it was a little dry, it still tasted fine. "All we need now is a drink," he said.

  Amy was about to open another crate, until Clunk stopped her. "I'd prefer to do that," he said. "If there is anything hazardous in these boxes, I'm more likely to survive."

  "So you want me to stand around again. Is that it?"

  "Why don't you and Mr Spacejock explore the rest of the cavern? There may be another exit."

  "We can't see in the dark," said Hal.

  Clunk rotated his chest light to the left, then lifted it clear, leaving a circular hole.

  "I didn't know you could do that."

  "I never needed to before now." Clunk handed him the light. "It should last an hour or so. Try not to break it - spares are a little hard to come by."

  Chapter 26

  Hal and Amy set off together, working their way around the perimeter of the big square cavern. The first wall was the one the digger had burst through, and Hal played the beam on several fine jets of water which were spraying around the machine. Fortunately there wasn't too much of it, but there was no time to waste and they moved on quickly.

  The next wall was bare from one end to the other, but the wall opposite the digger had a circular hole with a tunnel leading away into the darkness. Hal shone the beam down it as far as he could, but the light was too dim and he couldn't see the end. "It's a possible at least," he said.

  Amy nodded. "Come on, let's check the last wall."

  They did so, and here they came across an alcove with a teleporter. Hal found the control panel and scrolled through the recent history, nodding to himself as he saw a batch of shorter addresses. If all else failed, they might be able to teleport to safety … or at least somewhere a little less dangerous.

  Having completed their circuit, Hal and Amy returned to the middle of the cavern, where Clunk was still digging around in the crates. Hal told him about the tunnel and the teleporter, then asked the question uppermost in his mind. "Did you find any more food?"

  "No, but I think some of these spares will fit the digger. I may be able to upgrade the forward scanner, perhaps even improve the efficiency of the —"

  "Good. Excellent. Er, what about something to drink?"

  There was a loud crack nearby, and they all heard the sound of running water. Hal aimed his light at the noise, and as he played the beam on the big red digging machine he saw water coming right through the vehicle. Sprays of it were spurting through widening seams in the hull and more was cascading out of the cabin through the open hatch.

  "Looks like I'll be getting that drink after all," remarked Hal.

  "This is serious, Mr Spacejock."

  "Especially for the Navcom."

  They were silent for a moment or two as they watched the stricken digger spewing water.

  "Well, I do still have that backup," said Clunk at last.

  "Good, because we might need her again." Hal shone his light at the spreading pool of water in front of the digger. "Okay, what are our options?"

  Clunk rubbed his chin. "I recommend we teleport out of here."

  "If the teleporter works."

  "Why don't we take the cars?" said Amy. "We could drive along the tunnel we found. They look pretty quick, and we should be able to outrun the flood."

  "If the cars work," said Hal.

  They both turned on him. "Okay, what's your plan?" demanded Amy.

  "My plan? You want to hear all about my plan?"

  "Yes, any time now would be good."

  Hal glanced around the cavern for inspiration, and he was about to admit defeat when it came to him. "My plan is sheer brilliance."

  "I can't wait," said Amy."

  Hal ignored her, and patted the nearest crate. "We turn one of these babies into a makeshift canoe, and when the water pours in we paddle our way out of here."

  "Paddle our way out?" said Amy. "What, on a rampaging torrent of water?"

  "Sure. We can shut the lid so the water doesn't get in."

  "Or any air," said Clunk.

  "That's just a minor detail," said Hal, with a dismissive gesture.

  "So's a bullet," said Amy, "until it goes through your brain."

  "I didn't say my plan was perfect, but it's better than teleporting who knows where, or getting stranded two miles down the road in one of those glorified roller skates."

  "Can we at least inspect the teleporter?" said Clunk. "It's quick, simple …"

  "So's a hangman's noose," said Hal. "That doesn't mean I want to use one."

  "Why don't we split up?" said Amy. "Clunk and I will teleport to safety, and you can float off down the tunnel in one of these plastic coffins."

  Hal frowned. Did she have to put it like that? "All right, all right. We'll try the teleporter first. But I still want to keep my options open, and if the water comes rushing in I'm heading straight for the nearest coffin."

  "I think you mean canoe," said Amy, with a triumphant smile.

  * * *

  With time running out and tempers fraying, Clunk tried a new tack. Instead of throwing Hal and Amy together and hoping they'd become friends, he decided to keep them apart so they didn't come to blows.

  "Mr Spacejock, would you keep an eye on the digger while Amy and I examine the teleporter?"

  Hal's eyes narrowed. "You're not planning on leaving me behind, are you?"

  "Of course not. I just want a little warning before the waters flood in, and you're the best person for the job."

  Hal accepted this without question, even though he was rarely the best person for anything. "Sure. What do I have to do?"

  "Stand beside the digger, and call me if the water comes through any faster."

  "Report increased water flow. Check!" Happy with the responsibility, Hal left on his important mission.

  "That was nicely done," said Amy, with a grin.

  "I don't know what you're talking about."

  "You sent him to the naughty corner and he doesn't even realise it."

  "I assure you —"

  "Assure all you like." Amy's expression grew more serious. "Come on, let's check the teleporter. It might be our only way out of here."

  Water was already lapping around the crates in the middle of the cavern, and Clunk realised they'd all become canoes before long whether that was part of the plan or not. He sealed the lids on the half-dozen he'd left open, snapping the catches and double-checking they were secure.

  "Why bother?" asked Amy.

  "If we do use those cars to escape, we may end up deep in the tunnel system with no supplies. If these crates are sealed, we may be able to locate them and recover the contents."

  "Good thinking."

  They made their way to the teleporter, where Clunk ran his hand over the wall to activate the control panel. Nothing happened, and he muttered under his breath as he remembered it only recognised humans - or living beings, at least. Presumably the teleport builders had encountered a race of warlike robots somewhere down the line, and they weren't keen to have them teleporting entire armies around at will. "Amy, would you?"

  "Of course."

  Amy located the control panel, and Clunk began checking the destinations. As he did so, his face fell. A
ll the shorter ones he'd encountered before, and every one of them was under water. That left two or three longer addresses, which he knew would take them outside their own galaxy. He was just about to explain to Amy when he heard Hal shouting in alarm.

  "Clunk, it won't hold. It's going to blow!"

  * * *

  At first, Hal did his job diligently. He examined each water jet closely, holding his hand in the spray as he tried to estimate the force and volume. After a while, though, he realised nothing was happening.

  Then he remembered the crate full of burgers, sitting just a few dozen metres away. He'd only eaten two, and he reckoned another would hit just the right spot. Sure, Clunk wanted him to watch the water sprays, but they hadn't changed for the last ten minutes and they certainly didn't look like changing in the next ten.

  Hal stuck it out a few moments longer, but the temptation of cold, centuries-old burgers was still stronger than standing around measuring flow rates, and before he knew it his feet were carrying him back to the stack of crates.

  Snap! Snap! Snap!

  Hal undid the catches and opened the lid, then frowned. Electronics? He couldn't eat those.

  Snap! Snap! Snap!

  Hal opened several more crates, muttering under his breath as each revealed spare parts, pieces of equipment and other junk he couldn't eat. Finally, he located the crate with the burgers, and he was just sinking his teeth into the dry bun when he realised his feet were getting wet. He looked down and almost dropped the burger in shock. Not just his feet - dark waters were swirling around his ankles, threatening to knock him over and drag him away.

  Hal splashed back to the digger, and what he saw opened his eyes even wider. Part of the wall had collapsed, down low, and water was pouring into the cavern in a torrent. Even as he watched, another piece of wall collapsed and more water flooded in. Then he saw the digger move, and he realised it was time for decisive action.

  Well aware of the important job Clunk had given him, Hal finished his burger in three bites, chewing them as fast as he possibly could. Then he screwed the wrapper into a ball, tossed it over his shoulder, turned to the teleporter and shouted his warning.