by Roman, Mark
jixX put the potted spruce down on the floor; it was starting to get heavy and he needed his arms for gesticulation. “My father flew spaceships. I design landscapes.”
“Until now,” put in VOZ.
jixX stood open-mouthed, his arms splayed out.
VOZ continued. “Lift-off will be at 19.00 Tenalp Trans-Uranic Geocentral Time. Remember, this is a Top Secret Space Mission, so you must not discuss it with anyone.”
“Wait. I can’t possibly do this. I have an important meeting tomorrow.”
“I’ll write you a sick-note.”
“I have two unfinished projects.”
“Your partner can finish them.”
“I... er... I have a fear of heights.”
“Then don’t climb anything high.”
jixX gave a deep sigh. “Look, this is clearly a case of mistaken identity.”
“If you wish, you can raise the matter personally with the Transcendental Overlord of Tenalp.”
jixX stepped back at the mention of the name.
“Well?”
“No, it’s okay,” said jixX. “I’ll leave it.”
“Very wise,” said VOZ.
jixX momentarily looked crestfallen, but a change of mind reinvigorated him. “Actually,” he said, surprising himself, “let me talk to TOT.”
“Are you sure?”
jixX was as far from sure as it is possible to get. “Yup,” he said, his heart starting to race.
“Very well.” VOZ fell silent for about twenty seconds. Then, “Sorry, he’s gone home.”
jixX looked desperate. “His second-in-command, then.”
“Er, gone home, too.”
“Third?”
“Home.”
“I’m detecting a pattern here.”
“You’re a smart guy,” said VOZ.
“Thanks.”
“That’s rare on this planet.”
jixX said nothing.
“And, being a smart guy, you will follow the red line on the floor out of the building. It will lead you to a niobium-cordite moving paveway, which will take you swiftly and conveniently to your spaceship. That is all, captain. And good luck.”
“You have the wrong jixX,” pleaded jixX; but a click, followed by silence, told him that VOZ was no longer listening.
A door swished open to his left. Just outside it, on the floor, was a red line leading off down a brightly lit corridor. He found himself recalling the advice his father had given him as a young boy. “Son,” his dad had said as he tucked him into bed one night, gently ruffling his hair. “Never, ever become a spaceship captain.”
He squatted down to pick up the pot containing the dwarf Alberta spruce and, shaking his head repeatedly, followed the red line out of the room and then out of the building.
Outside, one of the suns of Polaris IV was just setting, giving the sky a reddish glow. jixX had reached the start of the niobium-cordite moving paveway. One mile away, clearly visible on the horizon, stood the glistening hull of The Night Ripple – an enormous Class XI phonon-drive spaceship. Much closer to hand was a notice on the niobium-cordite moving paveway. It said: ‘Out of Order. We apologize for any inconvenience.’
Chapter 4
6.41 pm, 12 Mar 49 A-PE, TOT’s home
“How was work?” asked Mrs. TOT when the Transcendental Overlord of Tenalp arrived home that evening.
“Fine, fine,” muttered TOT absently as he headed to his favourite armchair in front of the 3DV. He sat down and looked at his wife. “Actually, things are looking very good,” he said with a small smile of satisfaction. The latest news from the TCCC was that the Ministry boys had managed to rustle up a captain and crew for The Night Ripple in record time. It had always proved a bit of a problem in the past, particularly for a mission as dangerous as this. The fact that they had done it at all, let alone in record time, was pretty impressive. He decided to transmit a message of congratulation to them before he forgot.
“That’s good,” said Mrs. TOT, although there was clearly something on her mind.
TOT switched on the 3DV with the remote control. Then he uncoiled a length of flex from his chest and plugged himself into the wall socket.
Mrs. TOT eyed these actions with a frown and a barely audible tut.
TOT stared at her. “I’m a cyber-kinetic android,” he reminded her. “I need power to function.”
“I know, I know, dear,” said Mrs. TOT. “I’m not blaming you. It’s just that the electricity bill arrived this morning.”
“Not now, dear,” said TOT, flicking channels on the remote control and turning the volume up. He settled back as his favourite advert came on.
“New! Psychological Ruff!” boomed the 3DV. “The washing powder that makes you think your washing cleaner. It works because it’s psychological. Look. We took this shirt covered in egg stains, bloodstains, gravy stains and hydrofluoric acid stains. We washed one half of it sixty-eight times in New Psychological Ruff. See? Not a ha’porth of difference. Yet nine out of ten housewives thought the half we had washed was actually cleaner. So, get New Psychological Ruff. The washing powder that makes you think your washing cleaner.”
TOT sat nodding his head. “They don’t make ads like that anymore,” he said to himself.
“I blame all this solar energy,” Mrs. TOT was saying.
“Blame it for what, dear?” asked TOT, turning to face her.
“The price of electricity.”
TOT rolled his meta-focus laser eyes. “You’re not still on about that, are you?” he asked. “We’ll manage somehow.”
“Well, I mean. It’s just not natural.”
TOT gave her a totally mystified look.
“Taking energy from sunlight,” continued Mrs. TOT. “It just ain’t natural. No wonder it’s so cold on Tenalp these days.”
“Yes, dear,” said TOT with a small shake of the head. He turned back to the 3DV and changed channels. Many people often wondered why TOT had ever married Mrs. TOT.
Chapter 5
6.43 pm, 12 Mar 49 A-PE, The Night Ripple
jixX was panting heavily as he came to the end of his one-mile walk along the niobium-cordite, non-moving, paveway. He stopped at the base of The Night Ripple to get his breath back, placing the dwarf spruce on the ground to relieve his aching arms. He looked up. The spaceship was huge; several storeys high and several hundred feet long. The entrance seemed a long way up, reached by a flimsy-looking gantry. He recalled VOZ’s advice about his fear of heights: “Then don’t climb anything high”. For a moment or two he debated whether to go up, or simply make a run for it; both options had their disadvantages.
Finally, he took a deep breath, picked up the spruce, and, mindful not to look down, started the long climb. The steps were more rickety than he had anticipated and the spruce swayed and wobbled in its pot as he climbed. At the top he entered the ship. A corridor led to a brightly lit room with control panels and blinking lights, which he recognized as the ship’s main control room. It was empty.
The moment he entered, a metallic voice startled him. “Welcome aboard, cap’n.”
jixX stopped in his tracks and looked about the room.
“My name’s LEP,” continued the voice. “But you can call me LEP.”
“Ah, the ship’s computer, I presume,” said jixX, coming further into the room.
“Indeed. One of the best there is, even though I say so myself.” LEP gave a chuckle. “Who’s your friend?”
“Huh?
“Your little green buddy.”
“Ah,” said jixX, placing the heavy plant pot on the ground. “This is a dwarf Alberta spruce.”
“Picea glauca ‘Conica’.”
“Indeed.”
“Do you carry him around with you all the time?”
“No,” said jixX with a sigh. “He’s from a project. Surplus to requirements, so I was taking him home when I was summoned to the MIS.”
“He’s very nice.”
“Yes, I like him.”
“Fully house-trained.”
“Excellent. Pop him on the main control desk, then, and let’s get started.”
jixX transferred the plant pot from the floor to the main control desk.
“LEP? Can I ask you something?”
“I am here to help you in any way I can.”
“Thanks,” said jixX seeing a straw to clutch at. “You see, there’s been a terrible mistake. I’m the victim of mistaken identity.”
“Oh dear,” said the ship’s computer.
“I’m not a spaceship captain at all. I design landscapes.” He waved a hand towards the potted spruce. “Hence the Picea glauca ‘Conica’.”
“I see,” LEP was saying sympathetically. “Sounds bad.”
“It is.”
“Trouble is, though, where are we going to find another captain at this time of night?” asked LEP. “And at such short notice? – what with only fifteen minutes to take-off.”
jixX could see the straw drifting gently away from him.
“Still,” said LEP brightly. “I’ll see what I can do.”
“Thanks.” jixX’s spirits rose and he actually smiled. He bit his lip as he waited in trepidation.
“Hmm,” said LEP finally. “Not much I can do. Sorry. Looks like I’m stuck with you.”
jixX’s shoulders sagged. The straw was beyond his reach, having been swept over the edge of the waterfall and carried off towards the ocean.
With a sigh, he hung his jacket over the back of the anti-inertial command couch and sat down, wishing he could return to the sanity of his plants and his gardens. He found himself missing his clients, even the dotty ones. In front of him were arrays of 3D graphical displays, touch screens, holographic sensors and VR controls. Even to his inexpert eye they seemed poorly designed and old fashioned.
“So, where are we going?” he asked at last.
“This is a Top Secret Space Mission,” said LEP.
“So I’m not allowed to know?”
“Strictly speaking, no.”
“But I’m the captain.”
“You might blab,” said LEP. “Are you a blabber?”
“How can I lead a mission if I don’t know what it’s about?”
“Rules is rules,” said LEP.
jixX drummed his fingers on the armrest.
“Alright,” said LEP after a while. “Seeing as you’ve an honest face, I’ll tell you. We’re going to Earth.”
“And then?”
“We’re coming back.”
“Is that it?”
“Pretty much. Except that, on the way back, we’ll be retracing the fateful path of the Living Chrysalis to discover what caused the awful death of her crew.”
“VOZ didn’t mention that bit.”
“No,” said LEP slowly. “He wouldn’t. But don’t worry. I’ll be here to help you.”
jixX said nothing, looking utterly depressed. Then he surveyed the myriad controls in front of him. “How am I supposed to fly this thing,” he muttered under his breath.
“Fear not,” LEP piped up encouragingly. “It’s just like riding a bicycle. Only significantly more difficult, and almost infinitely more dangerous.”
“Thanks,” said jixX, his mood at an all-time low. Then a suspicion crossed his mind. “LEP,” he started. “I’ve heard that some computers these days are fitted with electronic wit-boxes that are supposed to give them a sense of humour.”
“That’s correct, cap’n!” said LEP gleefully. “I’m so glad you noticed. Most people don’t.”
jixX shoulders sagged even further. What could be worse than a computer with a wit-box?
“I have two, in fact,” LEP was adding. “One’s a backup.”
jixX opened a few drawers in the main control desk in the hope of finding an operating manual or something similar.
“So, ready for lift-off?” asked LEP suddenly.
“Already??” asked jixX. “Is that the time?”
“Countdown about to start.”
jixX looked about him. “But what about the crew? Am I doing this alone?”
LEP gave a little laugh. “No, no,” he said. “You have a fine crew of three. They are currently in suspended animation in the Frigidaire Tempofrost Hibernation Tubes.” Then, after a pause, he added, “You could say they’re chilling out.” LEP chuckled to himself. “That’s a little joke, cap’n.”
“Very little,” agreed jixX. “Tell me, LEP. Do any of the crewmembers possess sufficient electrical knowledge to, say, remove a wit-box or two?”
LEP chuckled some more. “Not with their skill sets.”
“And what would their ‘skill sets’ be?”
“Er, let’s see,” started the ship’s computer. “Firstly, there’s fluX the behavioural chemist. Then we have twaX the carpenter. And last, but not least, anaX the gynaecologist.”
jixX’s eyes narrowed. “I see.”
“Each is an expert in his or her chosen profession,” continued LEP.
“I don’t doubt it. And have any of them ever flown on a spaceship before?”
“Let me see,” said LEP, checking his files. “According to my records, none of the crew has as much flying experience as you, cap’n. Which, I guess, explains why you’re the captain and they’re not.”
jixX nodded. “Maybe it’s because I’m new to this job, LEP, but those professions don’t strike me as being terribly relevant.”
“Not relevant??”
“Let’s take the behavioural chemist,” started jixX, speaking calmly and patiently. “What ‘skill set’ does he bring to the mission?”
“He’s a scientist,” said LEP after a hesitant pause. “Technical knowledge, analytical skills, eccentricity bordering on madness... er... rotten dress sense...”
“A carpenter?” continued jixX.
“Ah, yes,” said LEP more confidently. “Ship’s carpenter. Every ship needs a carpenter.”
jixX looked around the main control room for any signs of wood, but all he could see was the little that was in the thin trunk of his dwarf spruce. Indeed, it was a curious fact that there were no mature trees on Tenalp – something that affected jixX’s own profession. He often wondered how Capability Brown might have fared on this planet.
“Gynaecologist?” said jixX finally.
“Another key crewmember.”
“Is he.”
“She.”
“She,” echoed jixX. “And in what way is a gynaecologist key to this mission?”
“Er, in case any member of the crew is in need of... er... any gynaecological assistance?” offered LEP.
“Yes, of course. That would be the reason. Thank you, LEP. And she’s the only female on board, right?”
“Er, yes,” said LEP.
“That sounds perfectly sensible, then. I can see it’s been carefully thought out.”
*
jixX strapped himself into the anti-inertial command couch as LEP prepared for countdown. The closer it got to lift-off, the harder his heart pounded. Beads of sweat appeared on his forehead. He kept wondering what he was doing there.
“Ten...,” boomed LEP’s voice. “Switching on phonon-drive plasma compressor. Warning: pressure low.”
jixX looked up in concern, gripping the sides of the anti-inertial command couch.
“Nine... checking microbe-feedback life support system. Beep. Insufficient backup nutrients.”
jixX’s grip tightened, and he opened his mouth to say something.
“Eight... Activating fissile fluid wave generators, error on generator 3. Shutting down.”
jixX’s eyes widened in mild panic, all his worry lines suddenly visible.
“Seven... Cutting in Lagrange multipliers. Seem okay.”
jixX relaxed a little.
“Six... Engaging partial wave reactors; major fault on reactors 3, 4 and 7. No power.”
jixX’s tension returned.
“Five... Locking on SCN8-4 coords for phase stability. Warning. Beep, beep. System showing signs of chaotic behaviour.”
“Shouldn’t we abort take-off?” asked jixX, his panic now severe.
“Four …,” continued LEP, undaunted. “Confirming equilibrium of neutron surface charge density. Er... unable to confirm.”
jixX’s eye was caught by a furiously blinking red light on one of the control panels to his left.
“Three... Energizing stasis field. Catastrophic failure.”
The red light was joined by several others.
“Two... Decoupling synchro-symmetric momentum node. Major malfunction. Major malfunction.”
Now trembling, jixX turned to his right and encountered more blinking red lights and a cluster of flashing warning signs.
“One... De-ionizing thermal antineutrino emission bands. Overload. Repeat, overload.”
jixX could now smell smoke.
“Zero... We have lift-off.”
“We do??” said jixX looking wildly about him. “But what about...”
The rest of jixX’s sentence was lost as The Night Ripple started juddering and shaking on the launch pad, its phonon-drive tubes groaning and creaking as they slowly, painfully pushed the ship up from the surface of the planet. The juddering and the shaking seemed to go on for an eternity, and it was all jixX could do to hold on to his seat. His potted spruce seemed to be trembling in terror on the main control desk. But within a few minutes, the shaking lessened and The Night Ripple headed into space – into the darkness, into the icy vacuum, and into the unknown.
jixX suddenly realized there was no turning back. He took a deep breath and swallowed hard to prevent his ears popping.
PART THE SECOND: THE NIGHT RIPPLE
Chapter 1
The lights went on in the Cryothermal Potentiozombic Cold Storage Room and the crew were gently roused from their deep-frozen sleep. One by one the glass cocoons swished open and a small bell went “Ding!”
The first to emerge, shivering, was twaX the carpenter, small and wiry, with features so boyish that he was often mistaken for a twelve-year old. On his nose he wore a pair of broken spectacles, inexpertly mended with sticking plaster, and behind his ear a pencil stub. He looked shifty and nervous, but that was probably just the cold.
