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phil jones2

Page 4

by J. R. Karlsson


  Lasers erupted sporadically from the gun, scoring the walls and floor of the cargo hold without much effect. Thankfully he had somehow managed to avoid initiating another extended charge that would have blown a second hole in the plating, he still hadn't found a way of alleviating his current situation though.

  The Voravian leader was the last one to be sucked out into the hole, he was firing wildly at Phil and somehow continued to miss. Phil surmised that if their shooting was as accurate as their punching he had nothing to fear. He inadvertently sent a laser bolt in the creature's direction that took it square in the chest.

  'Rrrrrrrzzzargghhhhz?' the Voravian asked, staring down at the open wound in confusion. It hadn't expected Phil to pose any genuine threat so this fatal set of developments was most perplexing.

  'Rrrrrrrzzzargghhhhz yourself.' Phil replied, feeling mildly heroic for taking out this big boss. The creature tumbled out of the hole into space and he suddenly realised he wasn't in a computer game and that unless something happened very quickly that was where he was heading too.

  The walls of the cargo hold faded out, replaced once more with the grey polygon and white light, he could hear cheering over the intercom. He was back in the simulator, and he had completely forgotten that it had been a simulation.

  Chapter 6

  Fourteen! Trifle! Stipulation!

  'You did it!' Annika squealed at him, wrapping her arms around him in a surprisingly tight hug as he stepped out of the simulator hatch.

  He looked around at the assembled lab coats, they were all applauding him to a man, well, nearly to a man.

  Agent Smith stood stock-still, glowering at him with a most sour expression. Apparently he knew exactly how much of a fluke Phil's victory had been and Phil was under no illusions that the man would try and prove him wrong in the next test, whenever that was.

  For now though he had the admiration of an insanely hot female, the respect of Star Command and a captive audience all wishing to talk to him. For the first time since his adventure had begun he was actually glad to have left his apartment.

  'You were amazing!' Annika gushed, dragging him over toward Professor Hanniman. 'Wasn't he amazing professor?'

  A warm smile touched the old man's astonished features. 'Mr. Jones, in all our years of running the Star Command aptitude tests, only three people have ever survived the unbeatable Voravian encounter. That you not only survived but defeated their squadron in record time is unthinkable. Were I capable of doing so I would hand you command of the flagship of the fleet immediately, that decision lies with Grand Admiral Burroughs though.'

  The main screen flashed up and the swollen jowls of the Grand Admiral appeared in nightmarishly large form. 'Good show that man!' he bellowed like a walrus in heat. 'Beating my old record and knocking the old Voravian devils for six, good show! It looks like Annika was right about you after all, the glove has chosen wisely. The rest of the researchers from the human genome station are as astonished as we are here.'

  Phil beamed with an odd pride at the Admiral's words, he noticed Agent Smith growing increasingly irritated in the corner, apparently he wasn't going to let this go unchallenged.

  'Grand Admiral sir, this man is a fraud.'

  Assorted gasps greeted the statement as Agent Smith muscled his way to the front of the screen.

  'Grand Admiral sir, this back slapping is uncalled for. Having watched Mr. Jones's...performance on the view screen I can only draw one conclusion. The bumbling fool survived out of sheer luck, nothing more, nothing less.'

  Grand Admiral Burroughs ordered silence and the angry remonstrations against Smith's words quietened down. He fixed Smith with an unfriendly gaze that Phil thought looked very intimidating considering the size of his face.

  'Who in the blazes are you and what are you doing in the test labs?'

  Smith sighed.

  'Admiral my name is Agent Smith, I am part of a secret organisation under your command.'

  Burroughs frowned. 'Smith, eh? A new man no doubt considering your objections.'

  'No sir.' Smith replied tiredly. 'I've been under your command for over twenty years now. Regardless of my position my comments hold true, this supposed chosen one fluked his way into passing that test. I would stake my reputation as a special Agent on it.'

  The Admiral mused over Smith's words. 'Your reputation, eh? Well how about we put that to the test, shall we? If Mr. Jones successfully completes the test again not only will he forgo any further testing and be given an immediate team, you will be ordered to be a part of it.'

  Smith shook his head with a smile. 'I decline your offer, I have a counter-proposal of my own though. If the man we speak of is truly the chosen one destined to save us from this threat then surely it wouldn't matter how many Voravians oppose him in the test? Double their number to fourteen and I shall accept.'

  The men in lab coats must have used their allotment of gasps for the day, this proposal was greeted with utter silence.

  'You can't be serious!' Annika finally said. 'Nobody has completed the simulation with eight Voravians, let alone fourteen!'

  Smith turned his attention to her briefly. 'Is that a wavering of faith that I see in you, Annika? Surely if Mr. Jones here is the chosen one you must remain confident of his capabilities, no?'

  Annika remained quiet and Smith turned back to face the Admiral.

  'So what do you say, Grand Admiral? Shall we see how Mr. Jones fares against the impossible before branding him our saviour?'

  Burroughs nodded. 'Make it so, Professor Hanniman.'

  Hanniman blinked in disbelief. 'But sir, if we increase the number of Voravians into double figures the potential for...'

  'Hanniman!' the Grand Admiral's angry expression brooked no argument as his voice boomed over the speakers. 'Make the appropriate calibrations and patch a link of the simulation directly through to my console.'

  'Yes sir.' Hanniman stuttered, his shaking hands flying over a myriad of holographic terminals as he sent men and women in lab coats scurrying in various directions.

  To their credit, it didn't take them long to have the system fully recalibrated. Phil watched Annika and Smith silently stare daggers at each other, the main terminal had replaced the face of the Grand Admiral with a series of baffling calculations.

  'Mr. Jones.' Hanniman finally walked up to him, he looked very nervous. 'We have calibrated the simulation to the best of our ability. We cannot vouch for the accuracy of every feat you perform in there. Please be careful, this simulation may prove... unstable.'

  Phil frowned. 'It's a simulation, it can't hurt me, right?'

  The room fell silent again.

  'Oh.'

  He walked to the simulator with some trepidation now, he knew that Smith was right about him. Why couldn't everyone else see that he had just panicked and fluked his way through the test?

  The familiar white light and table greeted him once more. This time the laser pistol had been replaced on the table, causing an idle thought to creep into Phil's head. If this were really like the holodeck from Star Trek, would the materials produced not vanish as soon as they left the simulation? How then was the gun beamed away through time and space as Hanniman had suggested? He made a mental note to ask about this later, though he suspected he'd soon forget.

  The quiet humming sound sealed the hatch of the chamber and he sat pensively waiting for the latest test to begin. As critical as Smith had been of him he did seem quite a capable person to have at your side, he hoped lightning would strike twice.

  Hanniman's voice over the intercom wasn't its usual calm self, he still seemed aghast at the decision to double the workload of the machine. Phil hoped that the instability didn't throw up anything fatal.

  'Are you comfortable, Mr. Jones?'

  Phil nodded.

  'Very well, this simulation will take slightly longer to load than the last, please stand by.'

  He could hear a series of muffled voices discussing something in frantic tones until they
were replaced with the increased humming of the simulator.

  Static passed over Phil's eyes in bands like a badly videotaped recording, the sound seemed distant and vague but the locale was identical to his previous simulation.

  He blinked several times but the image didn't clear any, he tried moving a leg and discovered that the simulation had begun in spite of his impaired vision.

  Voices echoed around the cargo hold and Phil caught snippets of conversation.

  '...very unstable, I warned you that activating on such.'

  He tried his best to sneak over to the edge of the gantry without being spotted by the Voravians, staring down he noticed that the door had yet to open. What was going on?

  '...see the viewscreen Professor? It's just static.'

  That was Annika's voice, it seemed to fade in and out of existence. Something was very wrong here.

  Phil slowly took some previously unseen steps down the gantry and onto the floor of the cargo hold. He was confronted by a small square that seemed to be glowing from bright green to purple, he certainly had no recollection of that in the previous test. Then again he hadn't seen the stairs either.

  In spite of his poor memory, Phil felt that even he would have noticed a glowing square in the floor, even in the midst of a life-or-death struggle with the Voravians.

  Speaking of Voravians, they still had made no appearance and were decidedly late for their blasting holes in Phil Jones appointment. That certain death hadn't joined him for a second round wouldn't have been perturbing under different circumstances, their absence seemed to make the whole situation even odder though. As odd as Phil was, he didn't like this sudden change. How exactly was he meant to lose this challenge if his assailants never appeared?

  As if on cue the cargo bay doors slid open with a grinding noise through which marched the frightening spectre of...

  Okay. Now things were getting very odd indeed.

  The fourteen bowls of trifle floated in and formed ranks in opposition to him. They didn't bob and weave like traditional levitation would dictate. It was almost as if they were drawn through an invisible conveyor belt to their final resting place, suspended in air in front of him.

  'Rrrrrrrzzzargghhhhz.' the lead trifle stated with vicious aplomb, it remained stock-still. Phil was expecting at least a vibration as it spoke to him.

  Cautiously he advanced on the motionless trifles, staring down at his hand he noticed a spoon. This time he had chosen very wisely indeed.

  'Rrrrrrrzzzargghhhhz?' the trifle enquired, baffled at the steadily advancing corpulent form of Phil Jones.

  He dug the spoon in and tried to ignore the shrieking noises, not being one to pass up a good meal, even if it protested at being eaten.

  The trifle yielded to the spoon willingly, until he reached the bottom. Where lightly covered in cream, he found a particularly stubborn waffle.

  Phil was not a man to be denied upon being presented with such a delicious treat, he stabbed his weapon forth with gusto and pierced the nook of the offending waffle, tearing it out of the bowl and shoving it in his mouth with a victorious roar.

  After he had stopped choking, he resumed his banquet. The waffle had nearly killed him.

  By the end of the fourteenth bowl he found the static-laden image dimming back into the simulator walls once again. The bright white light no longer was a ghastly sight that caused him fright, he grinned at it as if it were a familiar friend that had come online.

  'Mr. Jones, it's reporting that the simulation ended successfully, can you hear us in there?'

  Phil nodded.

  'Mr. Jones? Jones? Calling Mr. Jones? Mr. Jones. Mr. Jones? Wake up now!'

  'Oh, right, yes. I'm fine.'

  The hatch opened as if by the command of his voice and Phil strolled out onto the simulator ramp. There were no cheers and applause this time, instead he was greeted with a series of shocked and frazzled faces. Judging from the wobbly their system must have thrown in the middle of the simulation, Phil wasn't that surprised.

  One member of the testing crew was most pleased to see his return though.

  'Phil!' the high pitch voice squealed as he found himself engulfed in high velocity catsuit.

  'We thought the worst when the malfunctions started to kick in. Then the next thing we know it locked us out of the system and it was entirely up to you, how did you do it? How did you manage to defeat fourteen Voravians?'

  Realising a heroic moment when he saw one, Phil offered his best haughty grin. 'When you are the chosen one, anything is possible.'

  Annika's eyes welled up with tears of what Phil hoped were joy. She wept silently against him and he stood awkwardly on the ramp, not knowing what to do.

  'I was so worried that we'd lost you.' she shot a glare at Agent Smith. 'Now do you understand? He is the chosen one.'

  Smith smirked. 'A truly touching display of emotion I must say, Mr. Jones did not pass the simulation we had planned for him though, of that I am sure.'

  'Actually Agent Smith while you are technically correct, Mr. Jones passed the simulation even though our systems were falling apart. I would surmise that the unknown trials and tribulations he faced in that simulation were far more challenging than that of the planned test. That he was willing to plunge onward and not only face the mounting odds but overcome them speaks volumes of his character.'

  Phil would have considered this an excellent if somewhat emotive point from the previously sobbing Annika, she hadn't spoken though. It had been Professor Hanniman himself that had been arguing his corner. Now he felt much less alone.

  'Be that as it may Professor, Mr. Jones did not complete the test and therefore the stipulations required for my joining his crew were not met.'

  Hanniman had no answer to that, Agent Smith was technically correct. The best kind of correct.

  'Who in blazes is this man and why is he so eager to avoid being part of the glove-wearer's crew?'

  A pained expression crossed Smith's features as he turned and confronted the bloated head of Grand Admiral Burroughs on the main view screen.

  'Grand Admiral sir, a pleasure that you could join us. I was just discussing how our simulator malfunction means that Mr. Jones here cannot request me to be part of his crew. Furthermore I have been told that the system will need a complete diagnostic and therefore it will be impossible to run the test correctly before launch.'

  Burroughs looked at him with a mixture of confusion and irritation. 'Who are you and what are you doing in the testing chambers?'

  Smith sighed.

  'I am... Professor Hanniman sir.'

  Hanniman glared at him but didn't say anything.

  'I've been head of the research and testing chambers for thirty years now.'

  Burroughs' chest swelled in distaste. 'Well Professor, I demand... no, I order that you join the glove-wearer's crew immediately prior to take off!'

  Smith smiled. 'Certainly sir, if that is your will then I, Professor Hanniman, shall join the crew that will be assembled for the glove-wearer.'

  He watched on as the Admiral tapped a few commands on his console.

  'I demand to be part of this crew as well!' Hanniman yelled, marching toward the screen with his sleeves rolled up.

  Burroughs rubbed his eyes in further confusion. 'Professor Hanniman, I believe I'm seeing double.'

  Hanniman nodded. 'An understandable malady Admiral, considering your exposure to terminals of late. For you see I am not Professor Hanniman at all!'

  Gasps from the lab coats.

  'No.' Hanniman said with a smile. 'My name is Agent Smith.'

  The Admiral's face screwed up in utter concentration, he blinked several times before responding. In the brief interlude Agent Smith aka Professor Hanniman glared coldly at Professor Hanniman aka Agent Smith.

  'Smith, eh? Are you new here? Nevermind, I'll key you in now. Both Agent Smith and Professor Hanniman will be joining the crew of the glove-wearer! Good show that man, fighting off all fourteen of the Voravians!'<
br />
  The terminal blinked off and the lab coats offered some scattered applause, unsure what to make of the unfolding events.

  Smith sighed.

  Chapter 7

  Butterflies! mmfmmmfmmhhrm! Hyperwarp!

  After a predictable debriefing where Grand Admiral Burroughs spluttered and pontificated over Phil's achievement, it was finally off to his quarters for a good night's sleep and the luxury of what Annika had informed him was a sonic shower.

  She had been awfully helpful in guiding him through the various confusingly similar corridors of Star Command and out into the residential suites. Knowing his luck if he'd been asked to follow instructions he'd have got lost and somehow triggered the self destruct again.

  He made his best attempt to peer out of the windows and into space for the duration of their journey, watching a number of ships fly by with the greatest of interest. It wasn't too hard to feign wonder at such a spectacular sight. That he kept looking at it after the fiftieth window instead of facing the walking catsuit that accompanied him was beginning to feel rather transparent.

  'I've been babbling for the last ten minutes solid and you've barely said a word, what do you make of Star Command?'

  Phil pulled himself away from the window and forced his attention back onto Annika, knowing rightly that a thousand butterflies would promptly gush up out of his mouth and ruin everything.

  'I... It's... big.'

  She looked uncertainly at him. 'Big?'

  'Yes.' Phil coughed. 'That is to say, well, it is big.' he promptly felt like diving out the nearest airlock, the sweet cold embrace of space would be better than handling this awkwardness.

  'Well, I suppose you have a point. Star Command does have a very imposing aspect to it when you first enter it.'

  'How long have you... been here?' Phil managed in a strangled voice.

  Annika smiled and a part of Phil floated away happily. 'I've been in and out of the actual Star Command HQ since I was a kid, my Dad was a freighter pilot and I followed in his shoes for a while. They liked what I was capable of in the Voravian conflict and decided to take me on, my practical experience saw me rise up the ranks in short order and here I am. What about you? What did you do back on Earth?'

 

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