by J. J. Green
“Oh, please—ow—someone help me,” called Belinda.
“Gavin, what’s a dandrobian?” asked Carrie.
“The predominant sentient species of the planet Dandrobia.”
Carrie sighed. “Is there something about them that planktoids hate?”
“Not that I’m aware of. I do not believe the two species come into regular contact, in fact.”
“Can’t someone do something?” cried Belinda. “Any of you? Ouch. Ow.”
It had to be something else. Were they attacking her because she was tall? No, Dave was tall, too. Because she was shouting? No, Carrie had also shouted. What did she have that no one else in the room had? Carrie watched the paperclips sweeping through the light from the torch. They reminded her of something. She strained to remember. The image came to her. The paperclips were behaving like moths around a flame. Though they circled, they always returned to the light. She remembered the tiny placktoids rising up along the torch’s beam from the hole in the floor. She shouted, “The torch. Turn off the torch.”
“What? Why?”
“They’re attracted to the light. Turn it off.”
Belinda fumbled for the switch, her eyes still closed. As the beam disappeared, the paperclips’ energy dissipated. Their flying slowed until they drifted down like metallic snowflakes to the floor, where they lay moving feebly.
Putting the torch in her bag, Belinda smoothed her hair. Her face and hands were a mass of pink lines and shallow scratches. Two paperclips were caught in her tawny locks. She disentangled them and threw them down.
“Well,” she said, “thank goodness that’s over. Horrid things.”
Carrie looked at Dave, an eyebrow raised. “You’re welcome.”
“I’m sorry?” said Belinda.
“I said, you’re welcome. My saving you from the paperclips was no problem.”
“Oh, that.” Belinda waved a hand. “I was just thinking the same thing. About how the paper—I mean, placktoids—must be following the light from the torch.”
Carrie’s mouth fell open. She turned to Dave, who shrugged.
“Very, very strange,” said Gavin. His head was bent close to the paperclips on the floor.
Carrie could not decide who, between Belinda and Gavin, she wanted to hit most. “Gavin, I swear, you say that one more time—”
“Baby placktoids,” said Gavin.
“Yes, we did notice,” said Carrie.
“Not possible.”
“Ermm...” Carrie gestured to the small placktoids shifting slowly around them.
“Placktoids are mechanical. They build new members of their species. They have no juvenile stage.”
“Maybe they’re just small ones,” said Dave.
“I have never seen a placktoid even approaching this diminutive size,” said Gavin, “nor can I think what possible use such a small creature might have in their society. Furthermore, I believe you were correct. Look there.”
Carrie studied the paperclips Gavin indicated. They seemed identical except for one thing. “They’re different sizes.”
“They grew while they were attacking us,” said Gavin. “Placktoids do not grow. And see here.” Two neatly severed paperclip halves were on the floor. A thin blue liquid dribbled from their ends. “Unfortunately a paperclip flew into my inner mandibles during the attack and cut itself in two.”
“What’s that blue stuff? Antifreeze or something?” asked Carrie.
“I believe it to be a form of blood. An unfortunate loss of life, but an accident.”
“They can bleed?” asked Dave.
“Again, no, placktoids do not bleed. But this one and presumably all its companions can. It appears the placktoids are developing biological parts and have instigated an intensive breeding programme. This is a most serious matter. Habitable planets are few and far between in the galaxy. The population growth of every species must be sustainable. The placktoids were granted permission to settle on the oootoon planet because the land area is unused, but their numbers cannot grow indefinitely. I cannot imagine why they would want to develop these excessive breeding methods.”
“But they still need materials to grow,” said Belinda. “They must pay for those, or acquire them somehow.”
“No, indeed,” said Gavin. “These were growing with the aid of one primary resource.”
“Light,” said Carrie.
Gavin lifted his back legs and rubbed them together. “Perhaps carbon dioxide in the atmosphere, too, in a similar manner to many plant species. We must search further, and try to find out not only where the placktoids are, but what they are doing. A further concern of mine is that these juvenile placktoids are aggressive.”
The spaceship seemed to drop from beneath Carrie’s feet. Her stomach lurched. “What was that?”
“The spaceship’s course has become unstable. I believe we may soon begin our descent to the planet,” said Gavin.
“Here’s hoping for a soft landing,” said Dave.
Chapter Twenty-Two – Where Have All the Placktoids Gone?
Deprived of the strong beam of light from the torch, the baby paperclips had little energy to resist as Carrie, Dave and Belinda quickly scooped them into the hole in the floor. Belinda and Dave hefted the door over and it slammed shut with a satisfying clang. Carrie thought of the baby paperclips rustling in the dark, and shivered.
The four stepped up the pace of their search, hastily glancing through each door Carrie opened before running to the next one. The ship was large and soon the humans were sweating and panting, though Gavin seemed to cover the ground with ease.
But wherever they looked, there was not a sign of the placktoids.
“Maybe they left in a matter transporter,” said Carrie, as they rounded a corner and found themselves in the corridor leading to the entrance bay.
“That might be a possibility, if such a thing existed,” said Gavin. “However, as far as I am aware, this instrument has not yet been invented, therefore—”
Carrie held up her hand, palm outward. “I get it. There are no matter transporters.”
“No,” replied Gavin. “No. If the placktoids had invented a method for transporting matter, they could name any price for it. Sadly, I believe the truth to be far more alarming. You are all fatigued. Please rest for a moment.”
They had returned to the entrance bay. Inside the large area stacked with black boxes, the mound of oootoon still protruded through the hatchway.
“We have searched most of the ship,” said Gavin, as they entered. “Its layout has been altered from the original design but there is, as far as I am aware, no section we have not explored that is large enough to contain the ship’s crew. I think we can safely conclude they are not on board. Yet, as we found, the shuttle ships are in their docks, and we saw none depart while the ship was being attacked. The placktoids did not fly down to the planet surface.”
“So where have they gone?” asked Dave.
“There is only one method by which the placktoids could leave, and if my deduction is correct, when it is considered along with evidence of the development of biological reproduction and growth, it is most damning.” Gavin lowered his abdomen to the ground.
“What is your deduction, then?” asked Carrie.
The insect’s inner jaws retracted and protruded twice before he said, “I believe the placktoids created a gateway.”
“Oh,” said Carrie, “you mean the spiral of green mist? Seems sensible to me, in the circumstances. I mean, that’s how we tried to leave, right? Before the oootoon surrounded the ship. It isn’t that bad, is it?”
“Of course it’s bad,” said Belinda. “Why do you think Earth isn’t overrun with aliens? It isn’t just anyone who can create gateways. The Transgalactic Council must grant permission, which it very rarely does.”
“If there were free passage to any planet via gateways,” said Gavin, “it would be extremely disruptive. Millions might suddenly flock to other worlds, or criminals might turn up,
steal or murder, and disappear again. There are endless appalling scenarios that could occur. Gateway technology is highly confidential and its usage limited to essential needs only.”
“And now the placktoids have it,” said Carrie.
“Apparently so. They are acting illegally and subversively. If word of this gets back to the Transgalactic Council, they will be disbarred from all treaty agreements and subject to the strictest sanctions. Placktoid colonies on other worlds will be immediately arrested and confined indefinitely. The placktoids know this of course. Employing gateway technology is tantamount to declaring war on the entire galaxy.”
The spaceship lurched, and Carrie grabbed the wall for support. “But if word doesn’t get back to the Transgalactic Council, what then?”
“Then the placktoids are free to travel wherever they want and to increase their numbers at an astronomical rate, raising an army of their kind. We must leave this ship and alert the Transgalactic Council.”
“Then we have to persuade the oootoon to let us go,” said Dave.
“We’ll never do it,” said Belinda. “There’s no communicating with that thing. It’s barely intelligent.”
Carrie tutted. She went to the bulge of oootoon, took out her translator and switched it on. A babble of voices filled her mind. Ruin the placktoids. Catch them, crush them. More hostages. They’ll never hurt us now. Wheeee, we’re flying. I miss home. The placktoids attacked us. Revenge! Let’s see how they like it. Carrie turned off the translator. Maybe Belinda was partially right. The oootoon surrounding the ship seemed impossible to communicate with, though it wasn’t unintelligent. There were just too many personalities within it who were focused on harming the placktoids. A few might be listening, but not enough to influence the majority.
Gavin, Dave and Belinda had joined her.
“I told you,” said Belinda. “It’s a complete waste of time. We’re doomed.”
Carrie strode to the far end of the bay and found a pile of boxes to slump down behind. She could not stand being around Belinda a moment longer. Smug, doom-mongering, arrogant, b—
“How are you doing?”
Dave had come up behind her.
“That woman,” she exclaimed.
He grimaced and sat down beside her. “I have to admit she’s been getting to me, too.”
“What are we going to do? We’ve got to get out of here. I have to get back to Toodles and Rogue. I’m new in the area. I don’t know anyone there, and no one knows me or that I’ve got pets. If I don’t get back who knows what’ll happen to them.”
Dave rested his elbows on his knees. “Yeah, there are a few people who might miss me.” He smiled. “I had no idea your housewarming party would turn out quite like this.”
Carrie hung her head. “I’m sorry I got you into all this.”
“Don’t apologise. It’s been kinda fun, in a strange way.”
“You’re too nice, you know? Anyway, in case we don’t manage to find a way out of this, I wanted to say, it’s been good to know you. We only met yesterday, though it feels like a lifetime ago, but you’ve been a great friend.”
“I’m glad I met you as well, Carrie.”
“And I forgive you for stealing from me.”
“I keep telling you, I have a condition.”
“Yeah, yeah.” Carrie stood. “Maybe we should move away from these boxes. The way the ship keeps lurching, we stand a good chance of one of them falling on us.”
Dave also got to his feet. “I wonder what’s in them?”
“I wondered that, too. Probably more baby paperclips, ready for shipping to another planet.”
“But if they can use gateways, the placktoids don’t need to ship anything.”
Carrie frowned. “That’s right. What can these be for, then? They must be containers for something.”
“Let’s have a look.” He peered at the nearest box. “Maybe we can get one open.”
“Are you sure we should try? What if a load of...I don’t know...baby pens come flying out and start poking us in the eyes?”
“But they need light for energy. It’s pretty dark in here.”
Carrie nodded and ran her fingers along the edges of the box Dave was examining. It was as high as her chest and about the same width. Aside from two handles on its lid, the box seemed smooth and featureless. There didn’t seem to be a way to open it. But then Carrie had an idea. If the placktoids used magnetism to hold doors closed, might they not do the same with their containers? She pulled out the magnetic field neutraliser and ran it along the nearest edge. As the instrument passed over it, there was a small click. Dave’s eyebrows lifted.
Looking closely at the matte black edge, Carrie could make out a fine crack. She pushed her fingernails into it, forcing it wider. As the side came free Dave leapt back. It banged to floor exactly where he had been standing, yellow liquid gushing out and over his shoes and trousers.
“Not again,” he groaned.
It was oootoon. The box had been full to the brim with oootoon.
Chapter Twenty-Three – Oootoon Everywhere
Gavin scrabbled over on his spiderlike legs. The box they had opened was empty except for a thin layer of oootoon the bottom. The rest of the contents were spread out over the floor in a large puddle.
“Whoops,” said Carrie.
“Is that an expression of regret?” asked Gavin. “There is no need to apologise. You have made an interesting discovery. We must examine the other boxes. I do not know why the idea did not occur to me.”
They opened four boxes, each in different areas of the entrance bay. All were filled with oootoon. The liquid didn’t dry up under the dim red emergency lighting as it had in the strong sunlight on the planet surface.
“Perhaps this will help us convince the oootoon to release its hold on the ship,” said Gavin.
“I don’t see how,” said Belinda. “It’s hardly going to make the oootoon less belligerent to the placktoids if it knows they’ve been removing it from the planet and keeping it here.”
“It must already know it, or parts of it do. That’s why it’s attacking,” said Carrie. “When enough of the oootoon knows or decides something, it acts. We’re surrounded by the oootoon that knows exactly what the placktoids have been doing, and there was enough of it to break away from the planet and attack the ship.”
Carrie smacked her forehead. “Of course. I was wrong. The oootoon is responsible for the missing placktoids. It captured them while they were siphoning it up. Then the placktoids started bombing it in retaliation and to try to beat it into submission. When the Transgalactic Council inspected the settlement process, the placktoids knew the oootoon would be a poor witness for what had been happening to it. Talking to the oootoon is like talking to individuals of an angry mob. Each has a different story to tell of what happened where, when and to whom. All most of them know is that something bad happened to some of them and they’re angry about it.”
“Yes, yes. I see we may have been interpreting this conflict incorrectly,” said Gavin. “The Transgalactic Council report was perhaps inaccurate.”
“Because the oootoon can’t communicate well,” said Carrie. “And no one ever really took the time to listen to it, all of it.”
“There have certainly been difficulties, yes, which is one reason why I dispatched you to the oootoon planet, to gather more information.”
“Hmpf.” Belinda was looking at her with a scornful smirk.
Carrie’s elated smile faded. She had acted irresponsibly and failed the victimised oootoon. If only she had investigated the contents of the handbag and seen the briefing device. If only she had taken the job seriously, or just refused to do it when she realised what it was about. Who did she think she was? She was just a mediocre nobody who couldn’t even work in a call centre.
Dave touched her shoulder and smiled.
A massive bang shot through the air. The floor shook, and they stumbled.
“What the hell was that?” said Beli
nda. “Did we hit something?”
“I don’t think so,” said Dave. “It came from over there.” He gestured to a blank wall at the far end of the entrance bay. The metal wall was misshapen, though earlier it had been perfectly straight like the rest of the ship. Another huge crash sounded and the wall buckled towards them. “Whatever’s coming through, I don’t think it’s friendly.”
“I am in agreement with you,” said Gavin. “I think it would be expedient to leave.”
“But what if it’s come to attack the oootoon?” said Carrie. “We have to protect it.”
“I do not believe it is attacking the oootoon,” Gavin replied. “Whatever it is, it has had ample opportunity to do that. I do believe it intends to attack—”
A third ear-splitting bang rent the air. Carrie staggered.
“—us.”
At a fourth boom the wall gave way. A large, rectangular, metal object rolled into view, its wide, toothed maw glinting red. The shredder.
“What the...How did we miss that?” shouted Dave, as the four ran towards the door. Gavin had been right. The shredder zoomed directly at them.
Carrie looked over her shoulder as she ran. For a large item of usually stationary office equipment, the shredder was surprisingly fast. It was gaining on them, and it was heading straight for her. “Watch out,” she shouted. She veered off to one side. Dave, Gavin and Belinda swerved to the other and not a moment too soon as the shredder zoomed through the place they had just been. It began to turn, but though it was fast it maneuvered badly. It could only turn in a wide circle. As it did so, it cut a path through the stacked boxes, overturning and crushing them. Oootoon oozed over the floor.
They were forced to run in the opposite direction now that the shredder was between them and the door. Gavin made it to the other end of the entrance bay first, and the others soon joined him. They stood at the wall the shredder had driven through, as the machine completed its circle. Behind them, the secret room was dark.
