by J. J. Green
Dave nodded. “Something else is funny, too. Ever since we left that place, we haven’t seen a single placktoid.”
They were retracing the route the paperclip had taken on their way to their first audience with the shredder. The corridors were deserted, the doors they passed were closed, and all was quiet. The deep red emergency light gave the ship an eerie, almost subterranean appearance. Their steps and Gavin’s scrabbling tread echoed from the metal floors.
Carrie turned to her companions behind. “Gavin, why does a placktoid spaceship need lighting?”
Her insectoid manager stopped a moment to rub his hindmost legs together, making a thrumming sound. Dave peered over his shoulder at the bug, and increased his pace.
“Did I say something wrong?” asked Carrie as they resumed walking.
“No, not at all,” said Gavin. “I was expressing approval. I believe the human equivalent would be clapping. I was pleased because I think that may be the first intelligent question I have heard you ask.”
Belinda smirked.
“Thanks,” said Carrie. “I think.”
“You have clearly noted a discrepancy between the placktoids’ construction and their chosen environment. The placktoids are not biological, but mechanical. They are manufactured. In fact, they manufacture themselves. As such, they can select the sensors with which to equip themselves. There are a range of methods they could use to perceive the physical environment other than vision, or vision that depends upon certain wavelengths of light. Many of them do employ several other sensory strategies. The question why they light their spaceships has been asked before by anthropologists. As far as is understood, the best answer is that it is an entirely cultural phenomenon.”
“The placktoids have culture?”
“Of course they have culture.”
“But you just said they’re mechanical. They’re robots.”
Gavin chittered. “You must try to keep an open mind. The English word “robot” hardly expresses the widely ranging functions, intelligence and abilities of the placktoids. The species that originally devised and built them became extinct millenia ago. No one is sure why or how exactly; but since that time, the placktoids have developed a rich and diverse culture of their own.”
“And that includes light worship or something?”
“I do not believe it is worship exactly, though I am not an expert on placktoids. Their planet exists within a binary star system and is constantly bathed in sunlight. Therefore light is normal to them. As many species do, the placktoids construct spaceships that recreate some of the conditions of their home planet. It is what they’re used to; it is what makes them comfortable.”
“Comfortable?” Carrie imagined a huge stapler reclining on a chaise longue. “That’s interesting.”
“I agree. Spaceship design is a passion of mine.” Gavin fell silent. Carrie wondered if he was remembering the incident that had got him fired from his position as a spaceship inspector.
“This is it,” said Dave as they entered a large chamber. Carrie recognised the place. It was lofty and wide and characteristically bare of any instruments or decoration. Dave had brought them to the right room, but there was no sign of the shredder or any other placktoids.
“The commander must have gone somewhere to deal with the attack,” said Carrie.
“Most odd,” said Gavin.
“It must have gone that way.” She pointed to the shadowy end of the room, where a massive doorway gaped. “It wouldn’t fit the way we came. That’s strange. The big ones don’t usually move around much, do they?”
“No,” agreed Gavin.
“Did it go to the ship’s command centre?” asked Dave.
“It is the ship’s command centre,” said Gavin. “Placktoids are not humans. They do not press buttons or consult screens. All communications between them and their instruments are electronic. They only emit sounds when talking with biological species that perceive sound waves.” He walked sideways to the end of the room, disappearing into the dark red shadows.
“Is he going somewhere?” Dave asked Belinda.
“He’s thinking,” she replied.
Gavin returned, walking sideways again. “This situation is both inexplicable and unfortunate. We have no option but to search the ship and find the placktoids. We must facilitate communications between them and the oootoon and seek a resolution to this crisis. It is the only means to our survival.”
“Good luck with that,” said Belinda. “The oootoon refuses to communicate and now it has no reason to. As far as it’s concerned, it’s won, for the time being, anyway.”
“Nevertheless, we must try,” said Gavin. “This way.”
The three humans trailed after Gavin as he set off across the room once more, heading for the cavernous exit. Carrie shivered and rubbed her arms. The temperature was dropping. She wondered where the placktoids could be hiding, if that was what they were doing. When she and Dave had been aboard the ship before, the place had seemed to be filled with them. How could they all just disappear?
Belinda fell into step next to Carrie. “So, I’ve told you a bit about my background. How about you?”
“I just started a new job, actually, as a call centre supervisor.”
“Really? How interesting.”
Carrie thought there was a touch of sarcasm in Belinda’s tone. She stiffened.
“And what did you do before that?”
Carrie listed her various minor, menial and dead end jobs as she looked up at the statuesque beauty’s profile. Her voice became quieter and quieter as she went on. As she finished, Belinda turned to her with a condescending smile.
“Forgive me for saying this, but you know what you said before about being determined to succeed in this job, that didn’t really make a lot of sense. If we get out of this alive, you should resign.”
“What? Why?”
“Can’t you see for yourself? It’s difficult and dangerous, and, to be frank, you don’t seem to know what you’re doing. I’m not sure how you managed to get hired. You need years of experience of talking with people in positions of power to do this job. Negotiating skills, sound judgement, diplomacy.” She shook her head. “I hardly think walking dogs or dressing up to deliver birthday telegrams is what the Transgalactic Council is looking for.”
Carrie flushed and her nostrils flared. She fumed for a few silent moments as Belinda smiled smugly, then the realisation hit her. “Oh, I get it. You’re feeling bad because I beat you in that fight and found a way out of the entrance bay. Thought you’d take me down a notch or two.”
“That’s nothing to do with it,” Belinda snapped. “You were lucky, that’s all.”
“Hah.” Carrie smiled.
“Oh, stop it, you two,” said Dave.
“Hey, she started it,” said Carrie.
“And you took the bait,” said Dave.
Gavin stopped in front of a door. “We must enter each room in a systemic manner. We will start here and work our way through the spaceship as quickly as we can. When we find the placktoids we must convince them to communicate with the oootoon. We do not have much time before the ship drops out of orbit.”
Chapter Twenty – Surprise Discovery
Carrie opened each door with the magnetic field neutraliser. There were rooms full of metals, plastics, unrecognisable materials and what might have been tools, and rooms stocked with the matte black boxes they had seen in the entrance bay, but no placktoids.
One room they entered contained a pair of large doors set into the floor. Carrie tried using the neutraliser on them but they remained closed. Each door had a handle, and Carrie pulled on one. The door lifted a fraction. She peeked through the gap, but it was too dark to see inside.
“What’s in there, do you think, Gavin?”
The creature’s feelers twitched. “I do not recall this feature in placktoid ship design. As with the holding cell in which you and your companion were confined, it must have been added after manufacture.�
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“Could the placktoids be down there?”
“Not all of them,” said Dave, “half of them wouldn’t fit through that hole. Unless there’s another entrance somewhere.”
“It is unlikely there are any placktoids in an unlit area,” said Gavin. “It is odd that magnetism is not being used to holding the doors closed. The fact implies they are not normally left open in the same way as the others on the ship. Perhaps it is a safety feature.”
“I can’t lift them. They’re too heavy,” said Carrie.
“There must have been an opening mechanism that is now disabled. And placktoids are generally much stronger than humans,” said Gavin.
“What do we do, then?” asked Dave.
“Let us search the rest of this section,” said Gavin. “Perhaps placktoids are close by.”
The group returned to the corridor of closed doors.
“Belinda, what’s the story behind all this?” asked Dave as they continued their search. “How come you’re doing this job? You said before you’re a banker. How did you find out about life on other planets?”
“You mean you don’t know about what goes on in the galaxy?” said Belinda. She nodded. “It all makes sense now. You’re strays.”
“Do you have to be so rude?” said Carrie.
“Ugh, not in that sense, though...” She looked down her nose at Carrie, who glared at her. “I mean you strayed from Earth. Look, there’s a small number of humans who are aware of extraterrestrial life, and a large number who haven’t a clue. You belong to the latter, don’t you?”
Carrie pinched her lips together.
“Well, I certainly had no idea about any of this until I got sucked under Carrie’s sink,” said Dave.
“It isn’t as big a secret as you might imagine,” said Belinda. “The Transgalactic Council made contact with world leaders decades ago, but until we develop intragalactic travel, Earth is barred from joining the Unity.”
Dave was open-mouthed. “Why haven’t they told us?”
“I’m not sure why the leaders keep quiet about it. Maybe they’re worried it will make them unpopular if people know the galaxy is teeming with life but they can’t go there or have anything to do with it. And the opposing political parties can’t come up with the goods either, so they also don’t say anything.”
“But surely they should pour all their resources into developing space travel?” said Dave.
Belinda shrugged. “Budgets have to be accounted for. But I think the scientists are getting close, finally.”
Carrie’s curiosity overcame her reluctance to speak to Belinda. “So how did you get this job?”
“The Council likes to recruit humans as Liaison Officers because we have no history of conflicts or alliances with other species. Without any baggage, we’re trusted to be neutral. I say ‘we’ but in fact I’m half dandrobian.” She smiled smugly.
“You’re...?”
“Can’t you tell?” Belinda drew herself up to her full height. Tossing her tawny mane over her shoulder, she turned her head from side to side. She dropped her pose. “Hmpf, of course you can’t. You’ve never met a dandrobian have you?”
“If I might interrupt?” said Gavin. They had come to the end of the section. “I suggest we check what is behind the non-magnetised doors we found earlier before we move on. What is the saying in English? We should leave no stone unturned. There is a small possibility there may be a placktoid in there who can inform us where the rest have gone.”
They returned to the room, and Belinda took hold of one of the door handles.
“Hold on,” said Dave, “maybe there’s a reason those doors are closed.”
“I cannot imagine why,” said Gavin. “The placktoids have nothing to fear aboard their own ship.”
Belinda grunted, and the door lifted an inch. “Damn, this is heavy.”
Dave lent a hand, and the door began to slowly open. In the area beneath, all was dark. The meagre deep red emergency lighting didn’t penetrate. When the door was halfway open, Gavin said, “There is something in there. I can hear movement.”
Dave and Belinda heaved the door up until it was past vertical, then stepped back to let it fall open. Dave shook his head as the door clanged to the floor.
“I can hear something, too,” said Carrie. There was a metallic rustling and swishing. It reminded her of something but she couldn’t think what. Dave went to the room entrance, where he lingered. The other three looked into the shadowy interior.
“I know,” exclaimed Belinda. She rummaged in her bag.
“Have you got some kind of detection instrument?” asked Carrie.
“Sort of.” Belinda pulled a long, cylindrical object from the bag, and flipped a switch. A beam of light shone out. “It’s called a torch.” She angled the light into the hole. “Well, I never.”
Carrie and Gavin peered in.
“Most odd,” said Gavin. In the circle of light from the torch, hundreds of small paperclips shifted and glinted. They were five or six times the size of their inanimate Earth cousins.
“Dave,” called Carrie, straightening up, “you were right. There are baby paperclips.” She looked again into the hole in floor. “Woah.” The paperclips were rising and floating towards them along the beam of light. “Errmmm...” She took a step back. The lead paperclip had reached the edge of the hole, and continued to rise. As it drew level with her eyes, it changed direction and zoomed into her face, hitting her between the eyes. “Ow,” she cried, “they’re attacking.” More paperclips were gliding out of the hole. Another one hit her, and another.
Carrie was forced to close her eyes and cover her face. She gave out little squeaks as the paperclip onslaught continued against her hands and the rest of her body.
Chapter Twenty-One – Paperclip Battle
Belinda was yowling, and Carrie could hear the pings of paperclips bouncing off Gavin’s exoskeleton.
“Most odd. Most odd,” he said.
Carrie spun around, disorienting herself. She didn’t dare move too far in case she fell into the paperclip pit, nor peek between her fingers, but she remembered Dave had been standing by the exit. “Dave, where are you?”
“Over here.”
Her arms spread in front of her, Carrie stepped hesitantly towards her friend’s voice, cringing at the paperclip strikes, which felt like bee stings. “Open the door.”
“I can’t. I haven’t got the neutraliser.”
“Ow.” A paperclip had struck just below her nose. The strength of their impact seemed to be increasing. But Dave wasn’t making a sound. “Aren’t they attacking you?”
“No, they’re attacking Belinda and Gavin, mostly. Get over here. Maybe they’ll leave you alone.”
The frequency of hits did seem to diminish as Carrie neared Dave. He grabbed her arm and pulled her towards him. The jabs from the paperclips stopped. She opened her eyes. She was at the closed door. Back at the open hatchway, Gavin was looking as bemused as an insect can while the paperclips pinged off his shell. Belinda was swinging the torch round in a futile attempt to ward off the attack.
Carrie swallowed, hard, and called, “Belinda, come over to the door. It looks like they’re staying in that area. You’ll be safe here. Gavin, we have to get out.”
Belinda began to shuffle towards Carrie and Dave, voicing regular expressions of pain as the paperclips hit her around her face and head and along her outstretched arms. Gavin didn’t move, but instead gazed into the hatch from which the paperclips were swarming.
“Hey, I think they’re growing,” shouted Dave.
“That is impossible,” said Gavin.
Carrie peered at the swirling silver mass around the hole in the floor and the separate mass that encircled Belinda as she edged closer. It was difficult to tell, but she suspected Dave was right.
Belinda had crossed more than half the distance to the exit, but as she drew nearer the paperclips followed. She wasn’t leaving them behind.
“Ow,” s
aid Carrie as a paperclip flew into her neck. “Oh no, they’re coming over here with her. Go back, Belinda, go back.”
“No, I’m getting away from these things.”
“You aren’t getting away. They’re following you.”
Gavin, despite standing right next to the open hatch, was no longer being hit. He watched the clouds of paperclips zooming around Belinda.
“Ow,” shouted Carrie as another paperclip hit her. “Stop. Go away.” But it was too late. Belinda and her attackers had come too close.
“Ouch,” cried Dave. He dashed to the opposite side of the room, which was empty for the moment. Carrie ran to join him.
“Am I nearly there? Where are you?” called Belinda. “Where’s the door? Ow. Ouch.”
“It’s you they’re after,” called Carrie. “They aren’t attacking anyone else. Just you.”
“Oh no! Ouch. What am I going to do? Help. Help me.”
“Gavin, what can we do?” called Dave.
“Most perplexing,” he said.
Belinda was performing a mad dance as she waved the torch around her head. She set off in a different direction across the room, but wherever she went the paperclips followed. Carrie and Dave kept carefully out of her way.
Belinda’s erratic, desperate movements generated in Carrie a tiny twinge of sympathy. “Maybe we can open the door, push her into the corridor, and close the door quickly behind us.”
“Look at her,” said Dave. “She’s swarming with them. They’ll follow her and the rest of us out.”
Carrie rubbed her face, where most of the paperclips had hit. The idea of being pursued around the spaceship by the small, vicious creatures didn’t appeal. She watched Belinda as she gyrated. Why were they attacking only her? What was different about her? What had she said about herself? A crease formed between Carrie’s eyes. That was it, she thought, she said she was half-dandrobian.
