Hal Spacejock Omnibus One
Page 80
"You'll see in a minute."
Hal turned to the Headmaster. "Mr Smyles …"
"Captain."
"Sorry. Captain Smyles. Would you gather the boys? I have something for them."
"Excellent. Capital." Smyles drew himself up. "Boys! Right here, at the double. Two lines, eyes forward. 'Hun!"
In the sudden chaos, one of the parents drew Hal aside. "He's not really military," she whispered in his ear. "He was an accountant before he got this job."
"What about this 'captain' business?"
The woman rolled her eyes.
By now the boys were standing in rows, hands by their sides and chins held high. Some were Hal's height, while many were taller. Meanwhile, Clunk was unwrapping the first parcel, revealing a plain brown box. "I asked the man in the shop about these. He said they were very popular with young men."
"Follow me with the box and I'll hand them out." They moved to the end of the line and Hal put his hand out. Clunk reached into the carton and took out … a child's painting set. Hal eyed the garish tin, then looked at the six-foot teenager with the five o'clock shadow. The lad's gaze didn't waver as Hal pressed the tin into his hands.
They made their way along the front row, then all the way back along the second. Not one word was spoken the entire time, and there wasn't so much as a cough from the parents and teachers. The only sound was the occasional rattle of a paint brush on tin.
When he'd finished, Hal nodded to the headmaster.
"'Ten HUN! Left TURN! On my mark … fall OUT!"
The boys left, carrying their painting sets. As they trooped off Clunk set the empty boxes on the floor. "That was good, wasn't it? Just think of the wonderful artworks they'll create in their spare time!"
Hal looked around for their ride home, but the visit wasn't over yet. Instead, the headmaster gestured towards the marquee. "Food. Tuck in."
Hal walked inside and brightened at the sight. Down the middle of the marquee stood a line of trestle tables, groaning under the weight of a truly enormous feast. Glazed hams sat shoulder to shoulder with cold roast chickens, pork pies, crisp salads and a huge platter of cheese. A wicker basket overflowed with bread rolls, and a glass jug held sliced celery sticks in cool spring water. His mouth watering, Hal could only stare.
"Grab a plate," said the man. "Need your strength for later."
"Why? What's happening later?" asked Hal, snapping out of his daze in a hurry.
"Older lads showing their science project. Interesting."
Hal took a plate and loaded up. While he was busy the teachers and parents came in, waiting politely as his pile of food grew and grew. When he'd finally run out of space he balanced two bread rolls on top, stuck a piece of celery in the side of his mouth and grabbed a fork. Taking the nearest seat, he tucked in, demolishing the entire pile before the last of the teachers had helped themselves to the buffet. Someone handed him a bottle of soda and he drank deeply, draining it in a lengthy swig.
"Don't feed you much in space?" asked the headmaster.
"Nothing like this." Hal burped. "Stupendous nosh."
"Least we could do." Captain Smyles looked wistful. "Course, we'd have laid on caviar and champers for a real celebrity."
*
After twenty minutes, the munching and slurping turned to chatting. Then someone got up and shushed the others to silence. "As you all know, we're very lucky to have Mr Spacejoke here with us today."
Someone whispered in her ear, and the woman reddened. "I'm so sorry. Mr Spacejock. As most of you know, the children have spent the past two terms working on their science project. Now, I'm sure Mr Spacejock has seen all kinds of mechanical marvels, but even so, class 12B have excelled themselves to a large degree."
Everyone nodded.
"Without further ado, let us proceed to the lake!"
There was a smattering of applause, and the crowd started to leave. Hal wanted to hang back and nab some of the cheese, but the rush carried him out of the marquee and along a narrow path. They rounded a small hill, and there laid out before them was an impressive lake. The far shore was shrouded in mist, and water birds squawked and croaked in the thick reeds.
On the shores of the lake was an expanse of sand, and sitting on the sand was a ramp with train tracks. Puzzled, Hal followed the tracks back along the beach and up to the very top of the hill, where he could just make out three older boys and a teacher with a furled flag.
"The boys have been studying maglev and anti-gravity," explained one of the female teachers. "Of course, we got permission from their parents first."
"Of course," said Hal. "Er, what does it do?"
"It's a low-orbit payload launcher," said the teacher.
Hal stared at her.
"Of course, this is just a scale model. It barely reaches the other side."
Hal looked across the lake at the far bank. It was a long, long way. "What do they launch?"
"Old junk, mostly. A local scrap merchant has been trying to get into our good books so we'll take his son next year. He's been most accommodating."
There was movement on the hill, and Hal spotted a dozen boys toiling towards the summit. They were carrying a figure wrapped from head to toe with packing tape.
"Ah, an old robot. How generous."
Hal prayed Clunk hadn't spotted the hapless victim. Clunk was a fierce advocate for robot rights, even if the robot in question was a hollowed-out shell. Luckily, Clunk was nowhere to be seen. Probably writing me a new speech, thought Hal gloomily.
The figure was strapped into a sled perched on the tracks, hunched up like an ancient mummy. When it was securely fastened, the boys stood back and the teacher waved his flag.
"Stand back, Mr Spacejock. That's the signal."
There was an almighty whoosh as the sled tore along the tracks, propelled by a jet of white flame three metres long. The sled blasted by, shaking the ground with the force of its passing. It raced down to the beach and took the ramp at something approaching terminal velocity, shaking the whole structure as it arrowed up the incline.
The cart left the end of the ramp at a forty degree angle, shooting into the sky with the bundled-up robot lashed to the controls. Hal watched it rise higher and higher, his hands still clamped over his ears after the shattering noise. The cart was just a speck in the sky when the jet began to splutter, until the fuel ran out and it died completely. Hal uncovered his ears, and in the eerie silence he could have sworn he heard distant shouting. He glanced up the hill and saw the boys pointing at the sky and laughing.
Hal picked up the dot again. It was well over the lake, and already starting the downwards plunge which would carry it to the far shore. As he watched, a huge black shape unfurled from the rear of the sled, billowing into an enormous parachute.
"They lost three sleds before they thought of that," explained the teacher. "Gives it a nice soft landing."
"Very impressive," said Hal. "It's a shame Clunk wasn't here to see it. He's a bit of a tinkerer himself."
"Is that your robot?"
Hal nodded.
"I saw him talking to the boys earlier. You're lucky to have such a capable helper."
"That's Clunk. Always willing to muck in." Hal looked around as a group of boys hurried up, their faces wreathed in smiles. "That was great!" he called over their excited chatter. "Excellent. Really cool."
The boys exchanged a glance, then started to laugh.
"Tim! Braden! Where are you manners?"
"With his robot," said one of the boys, prompting snorts of laughter.
Hal frowned. "What do you mean?"
"He was a great help," said the boy. "We couldn't have done it without him."
"What are you talking about?" Hal's eyes widened as he remembered the bound figure being carried up the hill. Had it been moving? Struggling? And those distant cries! Was it really Clunk who … "You didn't ask Clunk to sit on the cart, did you?"
"Oh no, sir."
Hal sighed with relief.
"We didn't ask at all. We made him!"
Hal turned to stare across the lake, where the parachute had settled on the beach like a gigantic quilt. The sled was lying nearby and alongside it was the bound figure, now struggling visibly. "Find me a car," said Hal to the teacher. "And keep the kids away. If you think their language is bad now, just wait until they've spent ten minutes with that robot."
*
Hal staggered up the Volante's passenger ramp with a large parcel under each arm. This time he knew exactly what they contained, and it wasn't Clunk's surprise gifts. No, before leaving the school he'd nipped into the marquee and packed both cartons with as much food as he could carry. Sausage rolls, cheese, ham, a whole trifle … for the next week he'd eat like a king.
Hal paused at the door. Clunk was toiling up the ramp, his movements hampered by the layers of packing tape still clinging to his bronze skin. They'd stripped the worst off, but it left a sticky residue which was going to hang around for ages. There was a dangerous glint in the robot's eye, and Hal reckoned they were lucky to get away without physical injury. Not to Clunk, who was practically indestructible. No, it was the high-spirited boys who were fortunate to be in one piece.
The airlock swung open, admitting them to the flight deck. "Hi Navcom, what's up? Oh wait, that was Clunk."
"I'm sorry?"
"Don't worry, he'll tell you all about it." Hal snorted. "Once he's come back to earth."
"How was the school?"
"Yeah, nice people. Not at all stuck up."
"Did your presentation go smoothly?"
Hal nodded. "Like it was running on rails."
"Why is Clunk so unhappy?"
"He WAS running on rails."
Clunk entered the flight deck, still moving stiffly.
"Here he is, folks. The copper cannonball in person!" Hal eyed Clunk's arms and legs, all criss-crossed with lines of tacky glue. "That test ride of yours …"
"Yes?"
"Do you think they got it on tape?"
Clunk pressed his lips together.
"Hey, I thought I'd arrange another little excursion. Do you fancy a stint as a crosswalk attendant, or would you rather do magic tricks at birthday parties?"
Without a word, Clunk stomped into the lift.
"I hear turps works wonders on glue," called Hal, as the doors closed. He opened the carton, took out a sausage roll and plonked himself down in the pilot's chair. "I don't want to see another school uniform as long as I live." He took a big bite of the sausage roll. "Hey, any news on our cargo?"
"It's landing as we speak."
"Great! What are we delivering?"
"Graduation prizes for three hundred and twenty-six schools."
Hal paused, the sausage roll frozen in mid-air. "We're handing them off to a shipping agent, right?"
"No, Clunk agreed to distribution. According to the contract, you're to present every award in person."
About the Author
Simon Haynes was born in England and grew up in Spain, where he enjoyed an amazing childhood of camping, motorbikes, air rifles and paper planes. His family moved to Australia when he was 16.
Simon divides his time between writing fiction and computer software, with frequent bike rides to blow away the cobwebs.
His goal is to write fifteen Hal books (Spacejock OR Junior!) before someone takes his keyboard away.
Simon's website is www.spacejock.com.au
For new releases and updates:
Facebook and/or Twitter
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents are either the product of the author's imagination, or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, business establishments, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.
Short Fiction
Also by Simon Haynes
A Piece of the Action
Billy's Book
Catch of the Day
Fizz!!!
Loss Leader
No Reply
Off Course
Produit d'appel (French)
Sleight of Hand
The Desolator
The Project
Thonn Day
Updown
Yard Fail
This publication is copyright. Apart from any fair dealing for the purpose of private study, research, criticism or review, as permitted under the Copyright Act, no part may be reproduced by any process without written permission.
This is NOT a free ebook
You are not allowed to
• Distribute this ebook by any means, nor store it in a public retrieval system for others to access.
• Modify this ebook, nor distribute derivative works based on the content or characters.
• Offer this ebook for sale, nor bundle it with other goods or downloads.
Table of Contents
Hal Spacejock Omnibus One
Contents
Series List
Hal Spacejock Cover
Hal Spacejock
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Chapter 20
Chapter 21
Chapter 22
Chapter 23
Chapter 24
Chapter 25
Chapter 26
Chapter 27
Chapter 28
Chapter 29
Chapter 30
Chapter 31
Chapter 32
Epilogue
Second Course Cover
Hal Spacejock: Second Course
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Chapter 20
Chapter 21
Chapter 22
Chapter 23
Chapter 24
Chapter 25
Chapter 26
Chapter 27
Chapter 28
Chapter 29
Chapter 30
Chapter 31
Chapter 32
Chapter 33
Chapter 34
Epilogue
Just Desserts Cover
Hal Spacejock: Just Desserts
Detailed Starmap
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Chapter 20
Chapter 21
Chapter 22
Chapter 23
Chapter 24
Chapter 25
Chapter 26
Chapter 27
Chapter 28
Chapter 29
Chapter 30
Chapter 31
Chapter 32
Epilogue
Hal 4 Sample
Chapter One (free sample)
Visit: Cover page
Hal Spacejock: Visit
Short Fiction