Hal Spacejock 7: Big Bang

by Simon Haynes

  The Admiral kept swinging her knife, trying to end him before the water killed her, but her strength was going and she couldn't pierce the fabric. Then, after a final spasm, she was still.

  Hal pushed the body away, and turned to look for Amy. The first thing he saw was another Lardo, then another, and as he looked around he realised he was surrounded by corpses. All the Lardos Clunk had led to their deaths … floating here, lifeless, their staring eyes accusing him.

  Hal did his best to ignore the bodies, instead focusing on Amy. He saw her nervous face peering back at him from inside the cavernous helmet, her eyes wide in the shadows. A dark wisp passed between them, and Hal realised it was his own blood in the water. Wincing, he kept a firm grip on his arm, hoping he could last until they got out. Then he remembered the tunnels they'd have to negotiate to escape the flooded underground base, and his blood ran cold.

  Face it, he thought to himself. There was no way he was going to make it.

  Chapter 41

  After watching Admiral Lardo and Hal fighting to the death in front of her, Amy felt herself withdrawing into a shell. She'd been holding everything together from the moment she'd been stuck in the flooded basement of her father's house, keeping her calm through one shock after another. The teleporters, travel to another galaxy, encountering alien races, several close escapes from the B'Con … it had all taken its toll, but she'd always believed there was a way out. Whenever the doubts arose, Clunk would be there to reassure her, and she'd taken a lot of comfort from his presence.

  Now she was stuck deep underground, floating helplessly in a flooded tunnel with several dozen alien bodies. Hal was injured, his suit slashed open, and Clunk was stuck on a huge alien battle cruiser in a completely different galaxy. It didn't get much more hopeless than this, she thought, and she had an overwhelming desire to give up the struggle.

  Amy closed her eyes, banishing the dead Admirals and the nearby outline of Hal. It also banished the ghostly green water, and if she concentrated hard she could imagine herself safely in bed. It would be so easy to go to sleep right here, and …

  No! If by some miracle Clunk made it back, how would he feel if he discovered Amy had given up? That she'd let Hal die, as well as herself? She owed it to the robot to try, and to try with every last breath.

  Amy opened her eyes, and she saw Hal looking at her in concern through the helmet. She heard his voice, thin and reedy, and she realised it was being transmitted through the faceplates.

  "Are you all right?" he asked her.

  "Better. What about you? How's your arm?"

  "A bit stabbed," said Hal drily. "So, shall we wait here for Clunk, or make our way to the surface and wait in the sunshine?"

  Amy allowed herself a weak smile. "Sunshine sounds good."

  "Come on, then."

  "Wait. There might be a quicker way."

  "Really?"

  Amy indicated the teleporter. "We could use this to get out."

  "No chance," said Hal flatly. "First, all the teleporters near the house will be under water, and Clunk isn't here to override the safety device. Second, we don't have the address."

  "The control pad stores a list of recent addresses. One of them might work."

  "Yeah, and one of them might send us straight to another galaxy."

  "You'd rather drown?"

  Hal thought for a moment. "Look, I think we can make it. All we have to do is get to the tunnel, right? Then it's straight home from there."

  Amy looked doubtful. "But your arm. Won't it —"

  "Don't worry about it. The suit isn't leaking much."

  "But —"

  "Come on. I've had enough of teleporters anyway." With that, Hal turned and paddled his way out of the teleporter chamber, moving at a snail's pace as he negotiated the floating bodies. Amy wondered how far they'd get before their air ran out, then drove the negative thought from her mind and followed.

  * * *

  Barely an hour later, Hal was exhausted. They'd only just reached the cavern with the ruined digger, not even a tenth of the total distance, and he knew they'd never make it out. It seemed like weeks ago they'd dug their way into the cavern with the alien machine, and the events of the previous day or two were blurred into a confusing sequence of explosions, fights and narrow escapes.

  The only good thing was that the long, featureless tunnel they'd made with the digger led directly to safety. The bad things? Well, they included Hal's knife wound, his torn suit, their slow progress, their lack of food and worst of all, their lack of drinking water. It seemed crazy, what with them being submerged in the stuff, but they could hardly remove their helmets and take a swig.

  So, Hal was going crazy with thirst, and he was sure Amy was enduring the same hell. Unlike Amy, though, his suit was slowly filling with water, and if they didn't make it to the surface in time he'd have more than enough to drink. Way more than enough.

  Banishing such pleasant thoughts, Hal approached the hole in the cavern wall. Digging through his memories, he recalled the hours and hours they'd spent aboard the machine, boring through solid rock. Now they'd have to swim the entire way back, flapping their arms in the oversized spacesuits and moving about as fast as a pair of wounded seals.

  Hal frowned. He hated to admit it, but Amy had been right all along. Swimming out was a hopeless idea. So, he approached Amy and touched his faceplate to hers. "I think I made a mistake."

  Amy looked at him expectantly. "Which one are you talking about?"

  Hal jerked his thumb at the tunnel. "We're never going to make it out, are we?"

  "Doesn't look like it."

  "Shall we try the teleporter?"

  "Yep."

  "It's risky. We could end up anywhere."

  "I'll settle for anywhere but here."

  They separated, and after a final glance around the flooded cavern, Hal led the way back down the corridor to the sunken teleporter.

  * * *

  While Hal and Amy were struggling through the flooded tunnels deep below the surface of planet Chiseley, Clunk was evading B'Con troops aboard the flagship. Fortunately, the ship's gravity generators had succumbed to the unstoppable melty goo, and in zero-g the unwieldy B'Con had no chance against the nimble robot. Clunk sprang from wall to wall, deck to ceiling, and any B'Con troops foolish enough to open fire were promptly hurled backwards by the recoil from their powerful weapons.

  Back at the teleporter, Clunk pushed through the cloud of debris and positioned himself in the centre of the chamber. Bidding a grim adieu to the B'Con, he activated the controls and immediately found himself in the flooded teleporter. He scanned the bodies in the water, fearing the worst, then felt a rush of relief when he realised none were human.

  Then he saw movement, and his eyes widened in concern. Amy was paddling towards him, her expression drawn and exhausted behind the faceplate. She had one arm around Hal, trying to propel him forward, and Clunk's electronic heart skipped a beat as he saw the water rising in Hal's helmet. It was already up to his neck, and the human appeared to be unconscious, with his eyes closed and his head lolling sideways.

  Clunk darted forwards to help, barely registering the shocked surprise on Amy's face. Without ceremony, he grabbed Hal and dragged him towards the teleporter.

  His intention was to return to the B'Con flagship, and he was about to set the address when he realised it was pointless. When they arrived at the other end Hal would need medical attention, and there'd be no time for resuscitation while the B'Con were firing on them.

  No, it had to be somewhere else. Clunk ran through the addresses in his memory, and selected a flooded teleporter close to the house. All he needed was an air pocket, somewhere to get Hal out of his suit and stabilise him. After that, he could call in the experts.

  Clunk entered the address, ensured the three of them were all inside the chamber, then hit send.

  * * *

  They arrived at the destination with a flash, transported along with a huge cube of water and
two dead Lardos. Clunk and Amy pushed their way into the corridor, desperately dragging Hal clear. As they moved into the tunnel Clunk's head broke through the surface of the water, and with a gusty sigh of relief he realised the tunnels weren't completely flooded. The dam was still filling overhead, but the water was running into the underground tunnels, draining the dam quicker than it could be filled.

  Clunk smiled at this, picturing the puzzled humans watching their new dam emptying like a bath tub with a missing plug, but his smile soon vanished when he remembered Hal. He activated his chest lamp and shone the dim yellow beam on the human.

  "Quick, the helmet," he said.

  Amy helped, and between them they freed Hal from the suit. Water poured out, and Clunk quickly checked for a pulse. "I-I can't feel anything," he said, his insides suddenly icy cold.

  "Let me." Amy put her fingers to Hal's neck, and for several agonising seconds Clunk thought they'd left it too late. Then …

  "He's alive and breathing," she said. "Definitely alive."

  Clunk felt an overwhelming joy, and he blinked away the lubricating fluid which had sprung to his eyes. "Is he … hurt?"

  "Lardo cut his arm with her knife, but I don't think she wounded him too badly. Water kept leaking in through the suit, and …" Amy's voice tailed off. "I didn't think he was going to make it. I … I didn't think I'd ever see you again. I thought it was all over."

  Clunk was still supporting Hal, but he put his other arm around Amy's shoulders. "I'm here now. It's going to be fine."

  Suddenly Hal coughed, took a deep breath, and spluttered. "What the —" he began, shaking his head. "Where am I? What happened?"

  "You're fine, and we're nearly home," said Clunk.

  "Is this the Volante?"

  "Not yet, but she won't be far away."

  "Good." Hal blinked. "My head's killing me. I don't suppose anyone has a nice hot cup of coffee?"

  * * *

  "Still no sign of the Volante?"

  "Not yet, Mr Spacejock."

  "I'm going to give the Navcom hell over this."

  "Me too, Mr Spacejock."

  Hal, Clunk and Amy were walking along a narrow road, flanked by flooded fields. It had taken them hours to escape the flooded tunnels, a nightmare of cold water and darkness which Hal was determined to put out of his mind. They'd finally emerged in the basement of the flooded house, where they'd had to negotiate torrents of water pouring into the tunnels from above.

  Then … daylight and sunshine. Hal and Amy threw off their spacesuits and flopped on the ground, turning their faces to the sky and soaking up the warmth.

  After a short rest, Hal's thoughts had turned to rescue, and Clunk had been scanning the airwaves for signs of their ship ever since. Failing to locate the Volante, Clunk scanned for any signs of life at all, but their location was remote and there was no coverage.

  "I could use a burger right about now," muttered Hal.

  "You and your food," grumbled Amy.

  "Well, it's an essential —"

  "Mr Spacejock. Amy. I think I hear something."

  Hal turned to see Clunk staring into the distance, one hand cupped to his ear. "What is it?"

  "A vehicle, and it's heading this way."

  They all turned to look, barely daring to hope. A vehicle meant rescue, safety … and food. They could all hear the engine now, whirring and straining as the vehicle negotiated the bumpy, hilly road. Then it rounded the corner, a battered red pickup with an elderly man at the controls.

  Hal heard a sob, and he noticed Amy had burst into tears. She just stood there, crying, and as the car drew up she could only manage a single word.

  "Dad."

  * * *

  Amy's dad drove in silence, one arm held tightly around his daughter as she gave him an edited version of their exploits. The way she told it, she'd been trapped underground by the flooding, and she'd run into Hal and Clunk. The three of them had made their way to the surface, eventually, and had been walking to safety when he'd found them.

  "I've been driving around looking for you for two days," said her dad gruffly. "I thought I'd lost you."

  "I'm sorry. I —"

  "Not your fault. Never liked the dam idea in the first place, and now I like it even less." He glanced over his shoulder at Hal, who was sitting in the back seat with Clunk. "Thank you for keeping an eye out. Amy means everything to me."

  "Oh, it wasn't me," said Hal. "Clunk was amazing, as usual."

  Amy's dad turned his attention to the robot. "Anything you need, it's yours. Just ask."

  Clunk looked like he was about to say something, but in the end he just nodded.

  "Now, where can I drop you gents?"

  "Is the spaceport out of your way?"

  "Too easy." Amy's dad took the next turning, and before long they were driving through the outskirts of a small town.

  "Any signs of the Volante?" Hal asked Clunk.

  "Not yet, Mr Spacejock, but I do have coverage. There's a message from Si Matthews, dated yesterday. It's about the house clearance job."

  "Oh crap." With the Volante missing they could hardly deliver the cargo of furniture, which meant they wouldn't get paid. "Can you stall him? Tell him we're running late?"

  Clunk shook his head. "There's no need. The message is a thank-you note, confirming the cargo delivery. There's also a notification of payment."

  Hal's eyebrows rose. "The Navcom completed the job on her own?"

  "So it seems."

  "But … on her own?"

  "I hesitate to remind you of this, but human pilots are more of a legal requirement than an actual necessity."

  "So where's my ship now?"

  Clunk spread his hands. "I can't find any trace of her."

  They drove in silence for twenty minutes, until Amy's dad drew up at the spaceport. Hal and Clunk got out, and then Amy stepped out too. She stood in front of Clunk, shyly, then gave him a quick hug and climbed back into the car without a word.

  Clunk was still standing there, a surprised look on his face, as the pickup drove off into the distance.

  * * *

  Once inside the spaceport, Hal ran for the nearest coffee shop while Clunk sought an information kiosk. He bypassed the adverts, declined half a dozen offers for insurance, and finally brought up the shipping menu. Then he entered the Volante's id code, and waited impatiently while the terminal gathered the required information. In a saner galaxy he'd have been able to access information on his own ship wirelessly, but then the data supplier wouldn't have been able to inject all the adverts.

  Clunk's eyes got wider and wider as he paged through the Volante's recent travel log, noting the ship's rapid succession of cargo jobs. Then he reached the final entry, and a tortured moan escaped his lips.

  "Oh no. Oh no, no, no!"

  * * *

  Hal was on his third coffee when Clunk stumbled into the cafe. The robot looked like he'd seen a ghost, and there was a ghastly look on his face as he approached Hal's table.

  "Mr Spacejock, I'm afraid I have some really bad news."

  "Don't tell me they stopped making Mize bars? I loved those things."

  "Er no, it's not about chocolate."

  Hal frowned. "There's a coffee shortage?"

  "No, Mr Spacejock. It's far more serious than that."

  "All our regular customers signed with Kent Spearman?"

  "We don't have any regular customers, Mr Spacejock." Clunk hesitated. "No, I'm afraid the Volante has been destroyed. The engines went critical during flight, and the resulting explosion tore the ship to pieces."

  Hal stared at him. "Torn to pieces?"

  Clunk held up his finger and thumb, almost touching. "The largest no bigger than this, by all accounts."

  "And the Navcom?"

  "I still have a backup, but the original …" Clunk shook his head sadly.

  Hal took a moment to take in the loss of his treasured ship. The Volante, gone. Then he shrugged. "Oh well, there's always the insurance."r />
  Clunk put a hand on his shoulder. "Mr Spacejock," he said gently. "You should prepare yourself for another shock."

  "This isn't going to be about coffee or chocolate either, is it?"

  "No, it's to do with insurance. It seems the Volante wasn't covered."

  "Oh, come on. You know I paid the premium, Clunk. You always insist on it!"

  "You did authorise payment, yes, but it seems the Navcom cancelled the policy."

  "Why?" Hal raised his hand. "No, don't bother explaining. There's no point."

  "I'm sorry, Mr Spacejock."

  Hal crossed his arms. He had no ship, no money and no job, and the future looked bad. On the other hand, the past and present hadn't been that good to him either, so perhaps things were actually looking up. "Okay, here's what we're going to do. We're going to get a couple of jobs, save up a wad of cash, and then we're going on holiday."

  Clunk frowned. "Are you sure?"

  "I'm certain. I need a break, and a couple of weeks skiing would be ideal."

  "Water skiing?"

  Hal shuddered. "Not likely. I want a nice snowy mountain, where the only water for miles around is sitting in my glass of whiskey."

  "And what about afterwards, when the money runs out?"

  Hal smiled. "Don't worry about it. Something will turn up."

  "But … a job? What sort of employment are we suited to?"

  "Call Si Matthews and set up a meeting."

  "The shipping agent? Why?"

  "He'll have something for us. If he doesn't, I bet he'll know someone who does."

  Clunk hesitated, then complied. "Very well, I'll organise it. And can I just say, you're taking the news of the Volante very well."

  After Clunk left, Hal looked down at his coffee. His knuckles were white, and his fierce grip was threatening to crush the mug. He'd put on a brave face for Clunk, but inside he was screaming. What had he done to deserve such bad luck? Why was his life so unfair?