The Legend of Dan

by Robert Wingfield

  The rabbits bolted for cover, as a spacecraft appeared in the sky. It generated a storm of dust as it ponderously landed near where Tom was sitting. The illusion was so real, he could even smell the putrid fumes from its exhaust. A deputation of the spheres floated up to the ship, as a ramp slid down from the underside. A man, wearing a smart dark suit, a bowler hat, and sporting a face with a total lack of features, disembarked and strolled out amongst the creatures.

  “Behold the great Oilflig Phoist, on the planet, Muceria,” came the awed voice of Husky from somewhere in a tree behind Tom.

  “This is exactly what I have been searching for,” said the Be-evision man. “The galaxy has been desperate for remote automatic lighting units for years, ever since it was discovered that low-power LED lighting makes your hair fall out. People will pay a fortune.” He turned back towards the ship. “Collect a few to take away.”

  A squad of scruffy soldiers marched down the ramp, and callously speared a few of the spheres. Instantly the colour faded and the spheres became simple blobs of grey mucus on the end of the rods. The soldiers grunted in irritation. “Take them alive, you fools,” said Phoist. “Use the nets.”

  The remaining spheres had floated into the cover of a clump of bushes, but the squad produced flame-throwers and burned the foliage back. The escapees were quickly trapped. “Leave the grey ones; nobody will pay good money for those,” said Oilflig as the guards returned to the ship with their captives.

  The scene faded, and the caption ‘One year later–same location’ floated around the room. They were back on the planet again. Oilflig was standing near a sticky blob of a building in a barren grey landscape, more typical of the planet Tom and Kara had visited. He spoke to the man in the military uniform at his side. “That will do for now. We have enslaved all the coloured spheres in the Galaxy, so I can command any price I wish. With this money, I will build a new empire.

  “Great,” said the soldier, “does this mean I can have my ship repainted?”

  “Yes, and make sure that the Grey Mucronns stay in this breeding warren, and don’t cause any trouble. We will collect any further coloured ones as they hatch.”

  The scene faded, and they were back in the room again. Husky called the survivors to follow into another spatial tunnel. “That’s how it all started,” she said, as they waited at the entrance. “With the money from this transaction, the Great Oilflig was able to build up the entire network, so far ahead of any competition, it meant that all other start-ups were immediately taken over, and absorbed into the Group. Right, now follow me again. Final testing.”

  The survivors filed out of the far end of the tunnel into what looked like a medical facility. Two Consortium troopers in black uniforms guarded the door to a laboratory. Husky gave a password, and they were admitted. A quadrillipod in a white coat waved a standard greeting with a few hundred of its legs. The recruits shuddered in unison.

  The quadrillipod didn’t seem to notice, and became absorbed in resetting one of its watches.

  “What happens next,” said Husky, “is you all have a medical scan to confirm you are both physically and mentally fit for the jobs offered…”

  “How’s that going to test us then?”

  Husky looked up. “Griosclanu isn’t it? You do ask a lot of questions.”

  “Only trying to understand, ma’am. Knowledge is the foundation of efficiency–another company maxim,” he added. “I read it on the wall.”

  Husky frowned. “Yes, very good. As you are so keen, you can test the scanner first for us. You will have your mind and body probed, to record your personality profile and competencies.”

  “Yes ma’am, what do I do?”

  “Get in to this chamber; the quadrillipod will operate the equipment.”

  Griosclanu climbed into a seat in the cubicle, and the door clicked shut. A purple light bathed him. He began to squirm in pain, struggling against the wrist and ankle restraints. The light went out and the restraints released. The quadrillipod dragged the inert form, and laid it on a stretcher. Husky took the readout and scanned it. “Very good indeed,” she smiled. “Great work, lad. Welcome to the organisation.”

  Griosclanu weakly raised his head, “I am grateful, ma’am.”

  “You will make an excellent soldier. Now off with you to the resuscitation unit, before your heart gives out.”

  She studied her clipboard as Griosclanu was wheeled away. “Appain, you in next.” Before he could react, the quadrillipod had grabbed Tom, and thrust him into the test chamber. He was briefly bathed in a purple light that made him nearly black out. The light went out, and the door of the chamber opened. He staggered to a chair outside, and sat down heavily.

  “This one is interesting,” said Husky, studying a printed report. “I will share the readings with you for information.” She ran her hand over the display and the machine confirmed the report for them all to hear.

  “Two-Dan Appain—origin: Earth—Age: 2, Sex-drive: fifteen percent higher than normal, Physical: eighty-two percent, Mental: twenty-three percent. Mental capabilities too high—aggression centres need reprogramming. Analysis results... subject suitable for employment in the guano fields, after mental customisation.”

  Tom had a feeling that there was an insult in the report somewhere, but was in no fit state to complain. His head was aching, and his eyes refused to focus. He blinked, trying to clear his vision, as another of the party was called to the machine.

  Again, purple light bathed it. The light grew brighter. The creature screamed and disappeared in a cloud of purple dust. The machine reported. “Verillian Dilod... failed – mental... twenty-five percent–not re-programmable–subject terminated. Next candidate, Ndroy-D.”

  Tom noticed that the blur, which was Kara, was sidling towards the door. The quadrillipod grabbed her from behind, pinning her arms to her sides, and propelled her towards the machine.

  “No, the device will kill me. Stop the test.” As she struggled against its grip, the quadrillipod halted, and seemed to look quizzically at Husky.

  The guide raised her perfectly sculptured eyebrows. “Every candidate must be analysed by the machine,” she said quietly. “You will be no exception. Please continue, Scientist 13276.”

  The quadrillipod started to force Kara into the chamber. She fought desperately. The creature was having difficulty holding her.

  “No, I cannot take the test. Two-Dan, help me.”

  Tom shook his head madly, but the dizziness from the test remained. “What’s the matter? Where are you?”

  “Stop messing about. Help me.”

  “I can’t see,” wailed Tom. He got to his feet and stumbled towards the source of her voice, but fell headlong and banged his head on the chamber. Husky had deliberately tripped him up. He rolled over, dazed, and then blinked hard. His sight returned. Kara was struggling vainly against the quadrillipod. Her fingers slipped from the edge of the chamber, and then she was inside, banging on the glass.

  Husky pressed a control. “That force-field should hold her. Now, let’s see what the problem is.”

  Fifty pairs of appendages fluttered over the instrument panel as the quadrillipod started the test. The fog cleared completely from Tom's eyes, and with a roar he launched himself towards the creature. All the fighting techniques he could muster came into play. A rapid succession of kicks and blows to the back of the quadrillipod resulted in satisfying cracks from its exoskeleton. It keeled over. The door of the chamber flew open as its grip on the controls released.

  Recruits were scattering, trying to get out of the way of Tom's flying limbs. In the confusion, one of them tried to grab him, and recoiled as Tom savagely jabbed an elbow into his face. Kara burst free from the chamber, and leaped at Husky who was now groping for the row of buttons on her belt. She held on grimly as the guide struggled to reach the control that would vaporise them all.

  “Hit her,” Kara shouted to Tom, who was now menacing the other recruits
with a sturdy metal rod he had ripped off the machine.

  “I can’t, she’s a lady,” he protested. “I never hit a lady!”

  “If this lady gets her hand to her belt, we’re all vaporised.”

  The recruits exchanged fearful glances, and started trying to tear off their own identity badges.

  “I see what you mean. Sorry darling.” Tom drove his fist hard into Husky’s beautiful face. She jerked backwards and went limp.

  “Quick, get the belt!” Kara was already at a command console. “I’m checking the tunnel routes for our best way back to the cylinder.”

  Tom ripped off the belt, along with the control panel and the disrupter gun it carried. Husky’s trousers came loose. He stared lecherously as they peeled away from her body, and then gave a cry of revulsion. Off with the clothing came the skin. Underneath, were green, orange-peel scales. He recoiled, as the synthetic covering of her face, scuffed to one side by his blow, split to reveal ghastly features.

  “Come on, wake up.” Kara interrupted his paralysis with a stinging clip round the ear. She whipped the gun from Husky's belt, and blasted a small group of guards as they burst in. The room fell silent as the remaining recruits cowered by the wall. “You lot, stay there.” Kara hustled Tom outside, and across the corridor into the spatial tunnel.

  A moment later, they emerged into a small room. Kara fired Husky’s weapon at a box near their entry point, and the tunnel disappeared, leaving a few smouldering projection units and a hole into space.

  “What was all that about?” Tom panted, with his hands on his knees.

  “I wasn’t ready at all,” said Kara. “The test wasn’t included in the last tour. I have taken a similar one before, though, I would have failed on the mental. I got ninety-nine percent in that test.”

  “Where did you lose…?” said Tom.

  “...the one percent? For being too smart, and anticipating questions,” said Kara. “At least surely now are you convinced that OrcommNE and the Consortium are really up to no good?”

  “I suppose so.”

  “Suppose?”

  “Okay then, I will help you… if you keep that promise you made.”

  “Of course I will, once this is all sorted out. You still don’t sound totally convinced, to me.”

  “I suppose I am. It’s that I got into the spirit of the thing and was quite looking forward to joining, after passing all their tests.”

  Kara grinned, the type of grin that sent shivers down Tom's back. “You’d have failed the next one.”

  “And what would that be?”

  “The corruptibility test.”

  “I wouldn’t have been corrupted,” said Tom indignantly.

  “Yes, and you’d fail there. They measure levels of corruptibility, and the point at which you give in indicates your starting point within the organisation. The quicker you are corrupted, the higher you start.”

  “How do you know that?”

  “I stole the details off Husky.” She waved the electronic clipboard. “Do you want to read it?”

  “No. I think we should keep moving, find the cylinder and get out.” Tom wandered round the room. “By the way, how do we get back to the ship? Won’t the alarm be raised by now?”

  Sure enough, as he spoke, a large red bell grated slowly up the end wall, and then began a demented ringing. Kara shrugged, and silenced it, and part of the wall, with a shot from the disrupter.

  “I think this should be the way out,” she said, and thumped a squat console at the side of the room. Another tunnel opened up on the remaining wall. “This is a relay centre.” She grinned, maliciously. “Safety is this way. To the woods, to the woods, oh, and don’t lag behind.” She charged down the tunnel with Tom desperately trying to keep up.

  “Amazing,” he breathed, as they emerged near the reception area, where they had started their tour.

  “Look out,” whispered Kara, “Another band of hopefuls. Look busy.” They pretended to be interested in a display cabinet as a tour guide preached to a new set of recruits.

  “…while the Galaxy itself is in obvious turmoil, here at OrcommNE we have the resources to maintain the calm, quiet luxury you might expect, and have read about in the brochures...”

  The next instant, the air exploded with disrupter bolts, as Kara blasted a unit of guards emerging from the tunnel, in pursuit. The control unit melted, and the tunnel closed. “That should hold them up.” She grabbed one of the fallen guards’ atomic rifles, and threw another to Tom. “Come on, let’s see how much damage we can do on the way out. Create a diversion while we escape.”

  “If we must.” Tom sighed.

  “Oh, lighten up, boy. Let yourself go, for a change. Do as I do.”

  Kara blazed away indiscriminately, and people and beings scattered in all directions away from the havoc. “Go on, get those souvenirs you wanted,” she said. “They may come in handy later.”

  She fired a long blast into the armoured glass protecting the display area. It glowed red, and then the whole sheet collapsed. The remaining visitors scattered for the exits. “Off you go then.” Her teeth showed in an almost animal grin. “I’ll finish with the atrium.”

  Tom quickly collected some of the smaller, undamaged ornaments from the display area.

  “Can we go now,” he begged, as he returned with his arms full of treasures enough to buy a solar system.

  “We should, really.” Kara surveyed the scene with satisfaction. “That’s about it. Can’t see anything else to shoot at. Now where did we leave that ship?”

  “What, don’t you remember?”

  “Only joking.” She laughed. “This way.”

  They ran up the carpeted corridor, and re-entered the broom cupboard. “Not much time to spare, I think.” She followed him in, and locked the door. They both slipped into the Cylinder.

  There was a loud banging, and then a shout was heard from outside. “Don’t waste time trying to open it, you fools. We have to get them. Blast the whole building apart, if you have to.”

  Kara flicked her hands over the console. The hatch closed, and the machine responded. Tom flopped on to a storage locker as the cylinder thought its way through Space and Time, and then began to empty the stolen artefacts out of his pockets. He arranged them carefully on one of the storage bins.

  “Lovely.” He stood up and stretched, performing a few practice karate moves. “By the way, was I any good?”

  “Husky seemed knocked out by you.”

  “Say, do we have 230 Volts here?”

  “Don’t be silly; what would we use electricity for?”

  “I was wondering how to charge up this mobile phone I stole from the demo room.”

  Reunion

  The Skagans are wiped.

  Tom revives a corpse.

  A

  t Consortium headquarters, the informed, uniformed man in the centre of the control room passed on a communication.

  “The squad sent to investigate the disappearance of JWSU Central reports debris, and the residual radiation from high explosive missiles.”

  “What, no sign of the station at all? Are you sure, number Two?” The reply came from the balcony and belonged to a more important man.

  “No sir, nothing.”

  “Bring the area up on visual.”

  The hologram in the centre of the room shimmered as it zoomed in on the area of space in question. The squad of ten Consortium ships showed as green lights in formation. From one side of the room appeared a large arrangement of red lights, moving rapidly to intercept.

  “What are those ships?”

  “Long range scanners report a type unknown, sir.”

  “Better tell our squad to destroy them then. We can’t have things we don’t understand roaming the galaxy, can we?”

  “No sir. Message relayed.”

  The Consortium ships moved to intercept the aliens, and then promptly vanished from the hologram.

&n
bsp; “By Oilflig, what happened?”

  “We got wiped out, sir.”

  “Poor show. What other forces do we have in that sector?”

  “Battle Fleet Twelve, sir; two parsecs away.”

  “Make it so, Number Two, engage the enemy.”

  A greater mass of Consortium ships appeared from the other side of the room. The two fleets clashed, and then the green lights all vanished, exactly as in the first battle. “Was that the whole fleet? We are under serious threat,” said the important man. “Call in our reserves.”

  “Do you think that is wise, sir?”

  “No, I think we are under attack.”

  “Yes sir.” The man obeyed smartly, and gave the order. As the reserve fleets were brought in, they too, vanished. Finally, one of the enemy ships disappeared in a shower of red droplets as the twenty-first fleet backed off under heavy fire. “The enemy is starting to weaken, sir. Commander Fleet 21 indicates reduced barrage. One enemy ship destroyed.”

  “Continue attack.”

  The losses on both sides evened out, and after the deployment of the twenty-second reserve fleet, the alien ships disappeared more quickly. Eventually, only a few remained. They took a heavy barrage, and then suddenly shot away in different directions, leaving the Consortium reserves standing. The officer reported.

  “Some aliens escaped, sir. Shall we pursue?”

  “No, return the remains of our fleets for refitting, and re-grouping. Nothing about this incident should ever come to be reported, do you understand?”

  “Yessir,” said the soldier, guiltily closing down the ‘Twitface’ session on his handheld.

  “Employ mercenaries to track down the renegades, and let the shipyards know we will be placing a bulk order very soon... once I fill in the request-to-purchase form and have it authorised by all the top brass, and argue my case with Purchasing. Oh, and I’ll have to fill in a Justification Form, and a Failure Analysis and complete the Problem Record and rewrite the contingency plan and… oh fuck it, I can’t be arsed. Number Two?”