The Lifeboat

by Keith Fenwick

  Of course you can, the voice told him without the phone blinking green. You won’t need these icons any longer; I have fully interfaced with you now. With that, the phone icon blinked out of existence. It appeared it was only ever there to make sure he did not freak out too much when whoever or whatever started communicating with him.

  “Son, it’s not just about what will happen in six months’ time. It is about what is going to happen in the next few days when word leaks out about this asteroid impactor. Don’t you understand the world is going to implode soon? So if you can help out, you need to do it sooner rather than later.”

  “But what about …?”

  “Oh don’t be a cock, Bruce,” Sue interrupted. “He’s talking about the end of the world; we can’t just party our way to the end of time.”

  “What about the family? Shouldn’t we be with them?” Bruce asked, then turned to Myfair. “Are you sure you can’t do anything?”

  “No,” Myfair answered glumly. “My access codes get me on board and I am sure the ship won’t leave me here to die, but I can do nothing else.” Everyone else in the room except Bruce might have been contemplating the end of the world as they knew it but for Myfair it had already come. He was marooned far from home on a planet populated by inferior beings which was about to be destroyed by an asteroid. For him it was a final betrayal. “I’m not even sure it’s still parked where I left it.”

  “What access do I have to the ship?” Bruce subvocalized.

  I know what you’re thinking. You have full access to the ship. You could travel to the end of the universe if the fancy took you.

  “I don’t think I need to go that far. Who or what are you?”

  I am the MPU, I’ll explain myself better when you have time.

  “OK,” he said to his physical audience who had all started giving him odd looks as he appeared to be carrying on two separate conversations. One of which was with some kind of imaginary friend. “Sue and I really do have to get to a wedding reception or the rest of our lives won’t be worth living.”

  “What are you saying, Mr Harwood?” demanded the general.

  “It seems I have the access codes to Myfair’s spaceship,” Bruce replied smugly.

  Bruce’s statement put a different complexion on things. General Smith, the Vice President and the scientists had been expecting Myfair to be their saviour and the Harwoods were just an impediment to their progress, one they could deal with at their leisure. Bruce Harwood was just a grumpy young man with a chip on both shoulders, as far as they could work out.

  However, if what he was saying was true – and it was just dawning on them that there was more to Bruce and his new wife than met the eye – then this changed everything. They had planned to negotiate with a seemingly naive alien, but now it looked like they would have to deal with some back-woods farmer instead from nuclear free New Zealand instead.

  Theirs was a two-part plan: deflect the asteroid off its course and save the planet; and then get control of the space patrol ship so they could mine the technology aboard for the benefit of the United States and themselves.

  “I don’t believe you, son,” the general began, “and if you don’t cooperate with us I’ll have Wisneski here take you into custody.”

  “I don’t think you should threaten these people, sir,” Wisneski suggested. “I have witnessed at first hand the kind of firepower they have at their disposal, and I don’t think we have anything short of tactical nuke that can slow them down, and even then I’m not sure.”

  The general’s shoulders slumped slightly. The pressure was getting to him, and the reason they had been at pains to invite Myfair to meet them had slipped his mind as he tried to get used to the fact Bruce Harwood was not one of his subordinates or a politician he could browbeat into submission. He was used to being in charge and getting his way, so being ignored was not something he was used to.

  “Can you prove it?”

  “What do you mean?”

  “Well, can you prove you have access to the ship, for a start. And can it do something about the asteroid?”

  Bruce scratched his head and glanced at Myfair, who turned away from him. There was no way he was going to offer any assistance now Bruce had control over his only lifeline to his home planet.

  Then Bruce looked at Sue, who simply shrugged her shoulders and gave him the ‘look’. Evidently she was not convinced she believed him either. Another bad sign there might be a terminal issue with their relationship before it had even properly, formally begun. They had exchanged their wedding vows only an hour or so ago in front of their families. Now, there was plainly no trust in the relationship, or respect either.

  Cop insinuated into his mind an image of a convoy of cars stopped at the entrance to the farm, starting to turn around and heading back up the road.

  I’ll send it off to pick up my dogs, Bruce decided. That’ll fix them. Is that possible?

  I am on my way. Don’t let them take you anywhere for five to ten minutes.

  “Sure thing,” Bruce said with such complete confidence even Sue looked at him with surprise. “No worries at all, the ship has gone off to pick up my team of working dogs.”

  Doctors Shaw and Roach looked at the Vice President who had cleared his throat, preparing to speak. Bruce seemed to recall Mitch did not have a very high opinion of Wilmot’s abilities when he mentioned the man.

  “What did you do to him, Mr Harwood? The President, I mean,” Vice President Wilmot said.

  “What are you talking about, Mr Vice President?” the general asked. “This man has never met the President.”

  “Oh I think he has, general,” Wilmot replied and rose slightly, albeit temporarily, in Bruce’s estimation.

  While Bruce grinned a little sheepishly Sue scowled and did her best to ignore him when he tried to catch her eye. “Dunno really, he never really adapted to Skid, never came to grips with not being in charge and fully in control of events. Or that he needed to get his hands dirty if he was ever going to achieve anything. I guess it’s a long time since he had to look after anything personally,” he replied.

  “In his relatively few moments of lucidity he mentions you. Well he mentions someone called Bruce and an alien planet called Skid. We never considered the Bruce he was talking about might be you.” The Vice President paused for a moment and then continued in a very different tone. “You have endangered the security of our great nation and the whole of the free world by your treatment of the President. He is a broken man.”

  “Get a grip on yourself, mate,” Bruce retorted. “I’m not going sit here and listen to that sort of shit coming from the likes of you. Who the fuck do you think you are?”

  It was the Vice President’s turn to be taken aback. He was as unused as the general to having a few home truths conveyed to him in the forthright manner Bruce was delivering them. As a firm believer in American exceptionalism he wasn’t used to foreigners questioning his right to behave however he liked in advancing the interests of his nation.

  “Bruce.” Sue tugged at his arm but Bruce shrugged her off. He was trying to keep his temper in check but he wasn’t about to listen to this sanctimonious, condescending old fool any longer than he had to.

  “Look, that’s a bit rich considering Mitch walked onto Myfair’s spaceship under his own steam in the first place thinking he could coerce Myfair into handing the ship over to him.”

  “I don’t know who you think you are,” Wilmot continued over the top of Bruce, “but you have single-handedly incapacitated the President of the United States of America and the credibility of our government.”

  “Whatever,” Bruce grunted dismissively. “The man’s an idiot and always was, if you ask me. If you don’t realise that, then that’s your problem. Besides, who cares about the credibility of your government – that went out the door a long time ago. Your country is run by a pack of clowns and you sound like you are one of them.” Bruce knew he had gone a bit far with the last statement but he couldn
’t stop himself.

  “Excuse me.” Shelly Shaw interrupted the Vice President as he was about to open his mouth again. “Can you clarify something for me, please?”

  “Sure.” Bruce tried not to stare at her too much, especially with Sue sitting beside him. It was not hard to stare at Shelly Shaw. She was one of the most stunningly exquisite women Bruce had ever seen in the flesh. With her white-blonde hair and sultry looks, she looked like someone who would not look out of place hanging off the arm of James Bond or a Formula One driver. Each time she shifted, Bruce watched the swell of her breasts beneath her blouse and resisted an urge to reach out and squeeze them gently. He hoped the rest of her was equally delicious. It occurred to him she could also have calf-bearing hips and a big backside which would put him off completely and he hoped he wasn’t going to be disappointed when she stood up.

  “How is it you know President Mitchell so well, well enough for him to remember who you are?”

  “Um, what do you mean?”

  “You seem to know the President reasonably well and he mentions someone called Bruce in the same way he talks about the Russian President. This isn’t a compliment, by the way. Or are you lying to us and this is some kind of game you are playing? You have some kind of angle you want to exploit?”

  “Hey, guys,” Bruce began. “If I remember correctly you stopped me on my way to my wedding reception, not the other way around. OK?

  Shelly Shaw smiled at Bruce which made him start to feel a bit horny. She likes me, a part of him said. Another part said, ‘Yeah right!’

  “Point taken, but it almost seems to me you know the President fairly well?”

  “Well, we were on Skid together for six months or so.” Bruce turned to Sue for confirmation. “They, the Skidians, have some sort of time travel or time control capability, by the looks, as in real Earth time I don’t think we were away any time at all.”

  “I don’t think it was quite as long as that,” Sue reckoned.

  “You realise for all intents and purposes, as far as we can work out, the President was only gone for several hours and he came back from wherever a completely broken man?”

  “Yeah, we made a cock-up with the timing when we came back. But as far as I am concerned the man had a few wires loose right from the time we met. Mind you, I sorta know how he must have felt – going from being the most powerful man in the world to living on a planet and in a society like the one Myfair comes from would be a bit of a shock to the system. Especially as all the stuff the greenies talk about pretty well came to pass there. Some sort of ecological meltdown, I think.” Bruce forgot to add it looked as though similar catastrophes had occurred more than once on Skid, completely decimating the population each time.

  There was a lot more he could or wanted to say but Bruce also wanted to be on his way. For better or worse, he had just got married, and while his wedding reception would not be quite how he imagined it would be, he wanted to get there as quickly as possible so he could get it all over and done with and head to the hotel bar for a few beers.

  He’d always imagined his wedding being different from the way it was turning out – something at the local war memorial hall with the guys from the rugby club, most of his neighbours, and the odd mate from school and university. The reality was rather different, as his in-laws were a bunch of wowsers and he was a long way from home. Still, he was determined to enjoy it one way or another.

  “OK,” he decided. “If that’s all, we’ll be on our way then.”

  “What do you mean?” the general asked. “You’re not going anywhere!”

  “But I have my wedding reception to go to,” Bruce insisted. “Look mate, once I’ve saved the world I am still going to have to answer to my olds and my parents-in-law. You wouldn’t want to disappoint them, would you?” Bruce asked reasonably.

  There was a sudden commotion outside the room and a dog started barking.

  In his haste to get away Bruce had forgotten about the dogs. “Surely one day won’t make a difference?” he asked.

  “What’s a dog doing out there?” the general demanded. “This is supposed to be a secure area!”

  “Is this guy some sort of idiot?” Cop asked.

  “I think my proof is here,” Bruce said, getting up and walking to the door and letting the dogs into the room.

  “Hey boy,” he greeted Punch the pup as the big young dog jumped up and placed his forelegs on Bruce’s chest and tried to lick his face. “Fuck off, you smelly bastard,” he said, batting the dog aside.

  “Hi, boss,” said Cop.

  The appearance of the dogs seemed to stun all and sundry. Except, Bruce and the dogs themselves, who busied themselves wandering around the room, having a good sniff and poking their damp noses into various nooks and crannies where they weren’t really appreciated. After all, who wanted a big, smelly Huntaway, who had been locked up in a kennel for too long, poking his nose at your crotch, dribbling all over your best pants and then trying to lick your face?

  Bruce leaned back in his chair as far as it would go, which was just about to the tipping point. He had thought it would make him look relaxed and fully in command of the situation but he had to suddenly lurch forward and grab the edge of the table to save himself from falling over backwards. All he managed to achieve in the process was to make himself feel stupid.

  Three

  After regaining his composure, a process not assisted by Punch deciding this was an opportune moment to show him some doggie love by sneaking under the table and thrusting his large damp nose into his crotch, Bruce got up out of his chair and made to leave the room.

  “Bugger off,” he told the dog roughly. The huge dog was so excited about being inside around all these bosses he was unable to contain himself and continued to thrust his wet nose at Bruce’s crotch and slobber all over his best pants. When he realised Bruce was not the least receptive to his loving advances he approached Shelly Shaw instead. He rested his big head on her thigh, dribbling all over her leg as he stared up at her with a look of complete adoration on his face.

  Shelly Shaw was terrified by the attention Punch was paying her and squealed in alarm when he decided to jump up and lick the side of her face.

  “Get out of that, Punch, by crikey or I’ll …!” Bruce left the threat hanging in the air.

  Punch cocked his ear. He could tell by the tone of the boss’s voice that he meant business, and dropped to the floor and busied himself with a little grooming of his nether regions. Poor Shelly Shaw didn’t know how to respond as the dog stank to high heaven.

  “C’mon, let’s go!” Bruce said, motioning to Sue and Myfair. “We’re done here for the moment.”

  “But we haven’t finished,” the old general spluttered. Like the Vice President, he was used to people obeying his commands without question and had no coping mechanism when people decided they did not have to conform to his direction. This was further compounded by the impression Bruce seemed to think he had some sort of immunity from doing the right thing according to the Government of the United States. The general was used to employing the full force of the military to enforce the will of the government which for so long had considered itself to be in the driving seat and exempt from any opposition.

  “I reckon we have for the moment,” Bruce responded with infuriating cockiness.

  “But will you, can you, help us? Help save the world?” Dr Roach asked anxiously.

  “I will if I can.” Bruce sat down abruptly as it properly dawned on him what was at stake here. “I’m sorry,” he began apologetically. He knew it was not the time or the place to be so flippant. These people were not just concerned with their own personal survival. In some respects, they considered themselves representatives of all mankind and were appealing, or attempting to appeal, to his better nature for help. They were concerned about saving everyone including him, Sue, Myfair, the sprog, his parents, Sue’s family and their own families – and colleagues.

  Bruce felt his neck go hot an
d red. He assumed he looked uncomfortable at being so dismissive, and certainly felt it. He imagined his face must be beet red by now, so to cover his discomfort he pulled out his smokes again and lit up a cigarette to give himself a few moments to recover his poise.

  “Look, I’m not sure what I can do yet. I assume that since I managed to get the dogs here I can do almost anything within reason.” Bruce looked over at Myfair for some sort of confirmation, but Myfair was still busy looking anywhere but at him.

  Myfair was a broken man now he had lost control of the ship; he had lost his only reason for being and the only thing that set him apart from everyone else on this planet. He was consumed by trying to work out how he would cope with this state of affairs. At the same time, he failed to see the irony that he was stuck on this backward planet forever, with people whom he had been a part of condemning to a similar fate on his own planet. He was content to wallow in self-pity without too much concern about the fate of the planet, as he rightfully assumed the entity, the MPU, that had restricted his access to the spacecraft would save him if the situation became dire.

  How do I access the ship? Bruce thought.

  A set of instructions flashed across his vision like a ticker tape, and Bruce thought about what he wanted to do and instantaneously found himself standing in the control room with the lovely Shelly Shaw and, for some inexplicable reason, Cop the old heading dog.

  “I guess I can then,” Bruce said a little sheepishly as he realised where he was. He wondered how Sue was going to respond to the fact he had not beamed her up as well. She would consider it an insult on several fronts – she had had equal exposure and therefore, he supposed, some kind of entitlement to be involved in what was going on, to have equal status at the table. On the other hand, the MPU had opened up a direct interface with him, not Sue. Bruce also knew his behaviour was that of a callow and immature youth but he couldn’t help himself. He simply wanted to impress Shelly Shaw.