by Simon Haynes
"So now we're tourists?" Hal shook his head as he followed Clunk along the line of passengers. They glared at him enviously, and he caught several comments about privilege and silver spoons. One or two asked him for a drink.
At the end of the line, the wall was pierced with a pair of archways. The right hand one was marked "First Class Only", with a plush red cord strung between a pair of chrome stands. A young man in company uniform was waiting patiently nearby.
Clunk stepped forward and offered the tickets, which the man tore into ragged halves. Then he unclipped the cord and gestured them through the arch. "Enjoy the drop."
The elevator capsule was circular, with plush, outward-facing armchairs around the perimeter and narrow, unpadded benches crammed into the middle. The outer walls were huge glass panels that looked out onto a dark, starry sky. In the centre of the capsule, a thick steel column passed through the floor and out the roof.
"Cable guide," said Clunk. "Come on, we're on the far side."
Hal followed the eager robot to their seats, where he saw a six-point harness securely anchored to each padded chair. "What are those for?"
"I'm sure it's just a precaution," said Clunk lightly.
Hal leaned against the glass and looked down. Far below, sunlight glinted off the slender elevator shaft where it curved gently into the clouds. "Where's the toilet?"
"Back on the Orbiter."
Hal raised his voice slightly to counteract the hubbub from the other passengers. "You know, I don't really want to travel on this thing. What if the brakes fail?"
"We have brakes?"
Hal looked alarmed. "You're not serious! How do we stop?"
"Very suddenly." Clunk grinned, enjoying himself. "Look at you! Ace pilot and interstellar navigator, scared of a little drop." He grabbed for the armrest as the overhead speakers crackled.
"This is your flight director speaking," said a cheerful voice. "On behalf of the captain I'd like to welcome you aboard the Icarus. Our journey will take a little under sixty minutes, and drinks will be available to first class passengers as we pass the halfway point. I'd like to remind everyone to remain seated throughout the trip, as sudden changes to weight distribution may have detrimental effects on the braking mechanism. Finally, I look forward to seeing you back for the return journey."
Hal looked around the capsule. "Where's the crew, anyway?"
"Aboard the Orbiter," said a man in the next seat. "They release us by remote control."
Clunk turned round. "Have you travelled this way before?"
"Yes." The man patted his harness, which was securely fastened. "Don't forget this little beauty."
Hal looked surprised. "I thought they were for show."
The man nodded at the ceiling, which was covered with dents. "So did they."
Clunk and Hal moved in unison, fastening their belts, snapping the buckles and tugging hard on the straps. When they'd finished, they were gripped securely to their seats.
Suddenly a buzzer sounded. "On my mark. Three …"
Hal gulped.
"Two …"
Clunk gripped the armrest, crushing the plastic.
"One!"
There was a loud click and the capsule dropped from the Orbiter, shaking violently. Lights glared down through clear panels in the roof, and Hal saw the Orbiter receding at speed. He glanced down as he heard a grinding sound, then nudged Clunk. "You'll break it off," he hissed.
Clunk loosened his grip, releasing several shards of plastic from the broken armrest. They shot past his face and stuck to the roof, and a gritty haze filled the air as the capsule plunged downwards. As the acceleration wore off, dirt rained down on the passengers.
"We're in freefall now," said the man in the next seat helpfully.
"I know." Hal gestured at Clunk and himself. "We're seasoned space pilots, we are."
The man sniffed. "Sure. And I'm a waiter."
"We are! We're just fetching spare parts for our ship."
"Right," said the man, taking out a book. "Would you excuse me? I prefer my fiction in written form."
"Cretin," muttered Hal. He grabbed for his armrest as the capsule lurched to the left, shaking all the passengers in unison. "What was that?"
"Atmosphere." The man in the next seat lowered his book. "Just wait until we hit the thicker stuff, it'll really get bumpy. Of course, as a seasoned pilot you knew that."
Hal stared at the book the man was holding, debating whether to pluck it from his hands and beat him around the head with it. He'd just made up his mind when Clunk distracted him with a loud cough.
"Mr Spacejock, they have capital punishment on this planet."
"It'd be worth it," growled Hal. He glanced up as a searing white flash lit up the capsule.
"Those would be clouds," said the man in the next seat. "You know, water vapour."
There were several more flashes, and Hal became aware of a thin wailing sound.
"Air," said his self-appointed guide.
"Listen buster, unless you want to experience a lack of it …" Hal felt a restraining hand on his arm, and turned to glare at Clunk. "You stay out of this."
"I thought you might like to see the ground."
"Why?"
"It's arranged in a particularly impressive spherical configuration."
"Really?" Hal leaned forward and looked down. "Where?"
"See the curvature of the horizon?" Clunk pointed. "Look."
Hal turned away from the window. "Are you telling me this planet is round?"
"Yes."
"Do you know of any non-round planets?"
Clunk thought for a moment, then shook his head.
"So you want me to look out the window and gawk at a planet which is just like every other planet we've ever landed on?" Hal turned to glare at the man in the next seat. "Assuming we're pilots, of course."
"As if," muttered the man.
Hal indicated his flight suit. "What d'you think this is, prison garb?"
"My gardeners wear overalls like that," the man sniffed. "Theirs are cleaner."
Hal opened his mouth to reply, but a buzz from the overhead speakers stopped him.
"This is your flight director speaking," said a scratchy voice. "You are now passing the midway point of your journey. Braking will begin shortly, and I would like to remind all passengers to tighten their seat harnesses. Now that the capsule is within planetary jurisdiction, first-class passengers are invited to use the onboard drink dispensers. These are located in the armrest alongside your seat. Unfortunately, due to currency laws, change cannot be given."
Hal examined his armrest. The top was hinged, and underneath he found a tray full of plastic straws and a spout above a stained plastic bowl. There was also a keypad with a modest selection of drinks, a flush button and a slot for payment. Hal stared at the filthy bowl in distaste, then closed the lid and put his arm back on it.
"Not thirsty?" asked Clunk.
Hal shook his head. "How long until we —"
The rest of his words were lost in a sudden burst of screaming. A young man on the far side of the capsule was struggling to pull something from his jacket, while several passengers were trying just as desperately to stop him.
The man prevailed, and a slim blaster appeared in his hand. Immediately, the passengers melted away from him. "Everybody down!" yelled the man, waving his gun. "This is a stick-up!"
Chapter 12
The young man took a bundle of fabric from his jacket and shook it out. "I'm gonna move round amongst you," he said, waving the gun. "You put your valuables in the bag and I won't shoot. Deal?"
Most of the passengers stared at him as if he'd just materialised out of thin air. One or two nodded.
Hal glared at Clunk. "I told you we should have taken the shuttle."
Clunk ignored him. His eyes were fixed on the gun, tracking every motion.
"Hey, don't try anything," muttered Hal. "No heroics."
"You're carrying the money for the spare part,"
murmured the robot. "He'll take it all."
Hal's eyes widened. "You've got to stop him, you hear?"
Clunk watched the man moving amongst the passengers, taking their wallets, cash and jewellery. "They'll be waiting for him at the bottom," he said suddenly. "He'll never get away."
The man in the next seat snorted. "Bet you fifty credits there's a micro-fibre parachute and a breather in his hand luggage."
The young man spun round. "Shut up over there. Wait your turn like everyone else." Suddenly he grinned. "First class passengers, eh? Maybe I'll make an exception."
As he approached, Hal saw Clunk's hand sliding towards the restraint on his harness. There was a muted click as the catch separated, and a clatter as the straps fell down either side of the robot's thighs. Then the man was upon them, standing in the aisle between the windows and the front of the seats. He gestured at the man with the book, who reached into his jacket and withdrew a leather wallet. His face was set as he dropped the wallet into the open sack.
"And the book," said the young man.
"I haven't finished it!"
The young man placed the muzzle of his gun against the passenger's head. "Buy another copy. I'm sure you can afford it."
Sweat broke out on the passenger's forehead, and he dropped the book into the sack. The young man turned his attention to Hal, looking him up and down in surprise. "What are you doing in first class dressed like that? Are you his gardener or something?"
"Yeah," growled Hal. "And I don't get paid for this nonsense."
The young man turned to Clunk. "I don't suppose you get paid at all?"
"Not a bean," said Clunk.
"Any possessions?"
Clunk shook his head.
The young man reached into his sack. "Here, have a book."
"That's not yours to give."
"It is now. Enjoy." The young man tossed the heavy book to Clunk, who caught it one-handed and flicked it back again, whacking the young man in the forehead. The blow knocked the thief into a bench full of passengers, and willing hands grabbed him while Clunk leapt up.
In the confusion, Hal swept the blaster under his seat with his boot.
"Stand clear of the perpetrator," said Clunk loudly. Blows continued to rain down on the hapless thief, so he waded into the crowd, pushing people aside until he was standing over the young man. After checking his pulse, Clunk seized the man's lapels and hauled him upright.
"Break the little bastard in two," growled a male passenger.
"There will be no further violence," said Clunk, staring the man down. "Please return to your seats, I have custody of the offender."
"What about my wallet?" demanded a passenger.
"And my cash," said another.
"Wallets are easy, cash is a problem," said Hal. "Hands up everyone who got robbed."
Many hands shot up, including dozens in a section of the capsule the robber hadn't been near.
"All right, forget it." Hal shook the bag. "I'm giving this to the authorities when we land. You can fight it out with them."
"They'll keep our money!" shouted a man on the far side of the capsule.
"Hands up everyone who thinks we should sort out the wallets and jewellery, and give the cash to charity."
Several hands shot up.
"Okay, you lot are out of luck. The rest of you, line up and tell me what you lost."
There was some grumbling, but a while later the sack was empty save for a handful of credit tiles. Hal stirred them with his finger. "Just enough for a coffee," he said. He scooped them out and handed them to an elderly man seated nearby, then dusted his hands off. "All done. How's the prisoner?"
Clunk shrugged. "Out cold."
There was a crackle from the overhead speakers. "We trust you're enjoying the voyage. Braking manoeuvres will commence shortly, and all passengers must now be seated."
Hal took his seat, reached underneath and slipped the blaster up his sleeve. Then he fastened his harness just as a grinding noise began to echo throughout the capsule. He felt himself settling into the chair, and he spared a brief thought for the passengers on the hard benches behind him. The capsule creaked alarmingly as it slowed, and the air grew warm as the massive brakes heated up. There was a smell of hot metal, mixed with burning rubber.
Hal gritted his teeth. "H-how much longer?"
"Five minutes or so." Clunk looked down at the thief, who was lying motionless on the floor under his feet. Then he looked at Hal in alarm. "The gun! Where -?"
"I have no idea," said Hal.
Clunk held his hand out. "Wouldn't want them to find it on a passenger. There are heavy penalties for smuggling weapons."
Hal shook the gun onto the seat and Clunk whipped it away. There was a snick, and it vanished into a compartment in the robot's hip.
"I don't know where you put it all," said Hal. "You must have hollow legs."
Clunk nodded.
Hal looked round as the groaning sounds stopped. A movement outside caught his eye, and he turned to see a metal gantry sliding past the windows.
"Almost there," said Clunk.
There was a shudder as the capsule came to a halt, followed by a loud hiss as the seals were opened. Warm air blew round the interior, carrying a strong smell of hot steel and rubber and the tiniest hint of spice.
Hal threw off the harness and stood up. "Come on."
"What about the thief?"
"He's not going anywhere. I want to be out of here before they start asking questions."
Clunk followed Hal through the milling passengers. They flashed their ticket stubs at the door and then they were out, hurrying along a curved walkway towards the terminal building.
*
The walkway encircled the space elevator like a ring, and through the inward-facing windows Hal spotted a group of security guards leading the groggy thief away. One of the guards was interviewing passengers, and Hal turned away in case they pointed him out as a witness.
He was halfway to the exit when he realised Clunk was no longer with him, and he turned to see the robot gawking at the elevator through the curved windows.
"What a remarkable feat of engineering," said Clunk, visibly impressed.
"What's remarkable is that we got down in one piece," growled Hal. "Come on, keep moving."
At the end of the corridor they found a wider passage with marble-clad walls and fresh, clean air with a faint spicy tang. There were colourful tapestries at regular intervals, and both sides of the passage were lined with lush palm trees that erupted in green splendour from polished bronze pots. Soft music played from overhead speakers, completing the soothing effect.
"Wow," said Hal, staring around in amazement. "Is this posh or what?"
Clunk glanced at the lustre on the nearest bronze pot, then looked down at his scuffed, grimy skin. "I feel quite out of place."
"You and me both." Hal watched a group of travellers walk past, followed by a conga-line of self-propelled luggage. "Let's tag along behind these guys. We can pretend we're bodyguards."
"Or gardeners," muttered Clunk.
As they walked along the passageway, more and more tunnels emptied into it until it opened onto a huge platform suspended a hundred metres above the main concourse. There was a waist-high barrier pierced with dozens of narrow gaps, each with a small grey panel alongside.
The people they were following fanned out and strode up to the gates, touched their palms to the panels and stepped off the edge of the platform, vanishing from sight. The luggage rolled after them.
Cautiously, Hal approached the side of the platform and looked down. Far below, people were floating down to the concourse, gathering their luggage and moving clear as they reached the bottom.
"It's an anti-gravity well," said Clunk. "I've heard of them, but I've never seen one in action." He examined one of the grey panels. "I assume this device reads your body mass. It must calculate the energy required to sustain your weight during the fall."
"What's the red
light?"
"Power indicator."
Hal stepped up to the edge of the platform, and after a deep breath or two he pressed his hand to the panel and stepped out into space. His foot pedalled in thin air for a second, and then a firm hand grabbed the back of his flight suit and yanked him back onto the platform.
Heart pounding, Hal stared at Clunk. "It didn't work!"
The robot gestured towards the panel, where the words "Bioscan Failed. Entry to Plessa Forbidden" were blinking on and off.
"You said it was going to weigh me!"
"I was wrong."
"Wrong?" Hal stared at the floor far below. "I could have plunged to my death!"
"You've got to remember, this planet has advanced technology. We can't take anything for granted."
"Great, so I get a modern coffin."
Clunk touched the panel and the display changed. "We need a visa."
"How much is that going to cost?"
"Fifty credits plus taxes, charges and duty."
"All right, set it up." Hal stared over the edge. "Hell of a welcome."
Clunk pressed several buttons, charging the fee to Hal's account. "Try now."
"No way. You first."
"Okay, watch closely." Clunk pressed his palm to the keypad and stepped off the edge of the platform. He fell slowly to the floor, stepped clear and gave Hal a thumbs-up sign.
Hal touched his hand to the panel and a green light came on. Eyes shut, he stuck out his foot and pumped it in mid-air, where it met viscous, gloopy resistance. Reassured by Clunk's gentle descent, Hal stepped off the platform and felt a slipping sensation, as if he had been plunged into a huge column of gel. By the time he remembered to breathe, Clunk was grabbing his arm and hauling him out.
"This is so exciting!" said the robot. "Just think, Mr Spacejock! You're experiencing the cutting edge of technology!"
"I nearly experienced a solid marble floor." Hal glanced at the platform far above. "There's a lot to be said for a simple elevator, you know."
"Lift," said the robot automatically. He looked around. "I wonder what's in store for us next?"
"Giant slicing blades flashing from the walls if we don't have the right permit."
"It won't be anything like that!" said Clunk, as they set off across the concourse. "Too dangerous."
