Beyond Uranus

by Stewart Bruce & Nigel Moreland

  “Yes Roy. The Russian Communists were represented on the station, but during the height of the cold war in the seventies they were asked to leave.”

  “Why?”

  “They thought they could gain a technological advantage over the West if they could steal technology from the station. They thought they would be able to win with the advanced technology. They were right of course, so it was thought too dangerous to allow them to remain on the station, and they were told to leave.”

  “Doesn’t everybody try to steal the station’s technology?” asked Gary. “Or even try to understand it better if you want to be a bit more diplomatic.”

  “To some extent, yes,” answered Adams. “However, the Russians went a little too far.”

  “What did they try to steal?” I asked.

  “The station.”

  “What? The whole station?”

  “Yes.”

  “Now that’s what I call ambitious.”

  “They wanted to take the station out of its current orbit and drop it into the middle of Moscow as a show piece for the Soviet Union. They were going to strip the station clean of every piece of technology and then retro-engineer versions of everything. Russian sector Simon got tired of trying to contain them and their plans, so he told them to leave.”

  “So this has been abandoned for a long time?”

  “Yes, about forty years.”

  “But the cold war is over and the Soviet Union doesn’t exist anymore.”

  “This is correct and there are plans to repopulate this sector with representatives from Russia. There was a suggestion that we also include other countries of the old Soviet Union but that might have caused some friction. I gather some of those countries were subjugated into the Soviet Union rather than invited so they may eventually gain their own sector. There is plenty of room on six large stations.”

  It was Gary who asked the next question. “You know all these sectors don’t you Adams?”

  “Yes Gary.”

  “So why didn’t you tell us before we got here that this sector was abandoned?”

  “Because you are exploring and if I told you what every sector was like before we got there you wouldn’t bother because you would know what to expect. The whole point of exploring is to discover the unknown.”

  “I know what you mean,” I said. “If you told us what each sector was like we could sit at home and listen to you rather than finding out for ourselves.”

  “That is correct,” agreed Adams, “would you like to go to the next sector as there is nothing here to do.”

  “Yes please Adams,” said Gary.

  We walked across the square to the other side and down another corridor to a dead end. As we approached the wall a door slid vertically up and we walked through into the next sector.

  *

  The new corridor had sandy coloured walls and floor. At the end, we turned to view the new sector. The central square was again grassy with people sat in groups around the edge. As we got closer I could see the centre of the square had a diamond red grit pitch marked out on the grass. A game was in progress with men on the field all dressed in white whist the batsman wore red shirt. A player on a small mound pitched the ball at the batsman. A loud crack rang out as he hit it and the crowd roared with cheers of approval. Hurriedly tossing the bat aside, the batter was off and running towards the first base.

  “America,” said Gary and we started walking towards the baseball game.

  “Irony,” I said.

  “Why?” asked Gary.

  “The two biggest antagonists of the cold war right next to each other on this space station. Did they ever know that Adams?”

  “No they never found out. Nobody has ever travelled the sectors since they were all closed off. You and Roy are the first to do this.”

  “If they’d known,” Gary pointed out, “they would have spent most of their time trying to spy on or blow up each other’s sectors.”

  As we got closer to the people sitting on the grass, a few heads turned to look at us. We must have looked totally out of place in our jumpsuits, with most of the spectators wearing denim jeans and t-shirts. When we were close enough to the game we sat down. I looked around the square and could see what looked like a similar set up to the other sectors we’d seen so far, with what looked like apartments on opposite sides of the square, some pilot’s facilities on one of the other sides and others opposite. I could see quite a few fast food places like a burger bar, pizzeria, a diner and what looked like some sort of fried chicken takeaway. As I was looking at them, a woman walked over to us and sat down next to me. I greeted her with a friendly, “Hello,”.

  “Hi. My name’s Nancy,” she said in a soft southern accent. I say southern, but to be honest, I’ve no idea where I would place the accent because I didn’t know my Ashville in Alabama from my Elbow in Texas.

  “I’m Roy and this is Gary,” Gary adjusted his man bag and waved.

  “You’re not from round here.”

  “No. What gave it away?”

  “Your haircuts? Or perhaps the clothing.”

  “What can I say? We love science fiction films.”

  “You’re British aren’t you?”

  “Yes. We’re on holiday and we thought we’d have a look around the station. You know, meet new people and sample the local food.”

  “That’s a great idea. You and your boyfriend should try the U.S. Burger Bar.”

  “He’s not my boyfriend.”

  “Oh, I’m sorry. I just thought...”

  “He’s not my boyfriend and I have a girlfriend.”

  “God no,” interrupted Gary, “we are definitely not a couple. He is not my type.”

  “What do you mean I’m not your type?” I asked.

  “What can I say? You don’t do it for me.”

  “Why? What’s wrong with me? Claire seems to think I’m a bit of OK.”

  “Alright,” chuckled Nancy, “I’ll leave you two friends,” she did inverted commas with her fingers, “and see you later. Have a nice day.”

  “He’s not my boyfriend,” I reiterated as she walked off, “and what do you mean I’m not your type?”

  “Well how can I put this?” continued Gary. “You’re a bit egg and chips and I like caviar. You’re a car mechanic and I like poetry. If you were a piece of music you’d be grunge and I like Vivaldi. To be brutal you’re a little common for my tastes.”

  “Thanks Gary. Those are the nicest things you’ve ever said to me.”

  “Not to mention the fact that you’re heterosexual and you have a girlfriend.”

  It was nice to sit, relax and watch the match. I had no idea what was going on with the baseball game because I’ve never seen one before. I’d played rounders in primary school and there didn’t seem to be a lot of difference apart from the size of the playing area. There was a score board but it was pretty meaningless apart from the names of the teams; Bulls 5, Rams 3, Ball 1, Strike 2 and Out 0. I guess the Bulls were winning and then Adams interrupted me.

  “Roy, you’re mother is phoning would you like me to put her through?”

  “Go on then Adams.”

  “Hello Roy? Are you there?”

  “Hi mum, are you OK?”

  “I’m fine. Where are you?”

  “I’m at a baseball match.”

  “In Africa?”

  I’d forgotten I was supposed to be in Africa.

  “Err, yes mum. It’s played all over the world like football.”

  “Who’s playing?”

  Gary answered “Bulls and Rams.”

  “Who’s that Roy?”

  “It’s Gary mum.”

  “You’re spending an awful lot of time with Gary recently.”

  “Oh Christ, don’t you start. We’re just friends and anyway, I’ve got a girlfriend.”

  “You’re friends and you’ve...,” she stopped for a pause and then she started speaking very fast, “... you’ve got a girlfriend! Oh my god. Oh my God
. You’ve got a girlfriend. What’s her name?”

  “It’s Claire mum. You’ve already spoken to her.”

  “She sounded such a lovely girl too. I can’t believe you’ve got a girlfriend after all this time. When’s the special day.”

  “Please mum, don’t start.”

  “Well you need to get married as soon as you can. If you wait too long it’ll be too late and she’ll have gone.”

  “Mum, please don’t ask stuff about marriage. It’s too early because we’ve only just got together.”

  “Well don’t leave it too long.”

  The rest of the conversation was about how my aunt, uncle and cousins were doing and how she couldn’t wait to tell them the good news and then we said our goodbyes again. Gary was chuckling.

  “What’s wrong with you Gary?”

  “Everybody thinks you’re gay.”

  “No, everybody knows you are and I’m your friend. What is funny is that I’m the complete opposite of what you like in a man and yet everybody thinks we’re partners.”

  “Oh yea. I didn’t think of it like that. Come on lets go and get a U.S. Burger Bar burger before this game of rounders sends me to sleep.”

  Before we got to the burger bar I noticed a clothes shop. Ten minutes later and we had boots, jeans, plaid shirts, Stetson hats and our jumpsuits in plastic bags. Although the clothes made us look like cowboys the material was the same as our jumpsuits and very comfortable. When we walked into the burger bar nobody turned around to look at us as we blended in very nicely with the locals. We sat down at a table near the window and a waitress came over.

  “What would you like guys?” she asked.

  I answered her first. “I’d like a burger and chips please.”

  “Chips? Sorry boys we don’t serve chips.”

  “Oh. What do you normally have with your burgers?”

  “Fries.”

  “Of course, we’re in America. Can I have a burger with fries please? What do you want Gary?”

  “That sounds great. Make that two burgers with fries and two cokes please.”

  The waitress wrote our orders down and several minutes later returned with our meal. The burger was brilliant except for the disgusting pickled gherkin that I took out.

  We spent the afternoon watching the rest of the baseball match followed by chatting to some of the locals and nobody seemed to bother that we were visitors from another sector. We did meet some of the American pilots and I had a chat about their work to see if there were any differences in what we do. At about five o’clock we decided to head on back to our own sector. On the way back I asked Adams “How come if there are so many sections and so many pilots, why do we never meet in space?”

  “You ask me to position the ship a thousand kilometres from the station and you wait for information on your radar for an approaching ship or wait for me to tell you if there is one approaching.”

  “That’s correct,” I agreed.

  “Well I know where all the other ships are positioned so I know the best place to position you. The information on your radar is sent from the station and it’s the station’s computer that decides which team gets the information. Sometimes it is given to a team because they are the closest team to a freighter and sometimes it’s given to a team because they are the best team for that particular job. There aren’t that many freighters that pass though your solar system and even less space tourists, which is why there’s a lot of waiting around.”

  “So there’s no radar on the ship?”

  “Yes there is but it’s a backup system. All the information comes from the station which filters out everything apart from any freighters that need moving by your team.”

  “Do ships ever collide in Hyper Travel?”

  “This happens very rarely. Space is a very big place so the chances of a collision are very rare. Even if you do collide the ships are indestructible and the Quantum Singularity Drive will protect you from any sudden changes in acceleration.”

  “What would happen if you didn’t have the drive?”

  “The ship would be fine but you would be a smear of blood and guts against the inside of the ship.”

  Gary chuckled.

  “What’s funny Gary?” I asked

  “It reminds me of an old joke.”

  “I’m listening.”

  “What’s the last thing that goes through a flies mind as it hits your windscreen at sixty miles an hour?”

  “I don’t know.”

  “It’s arse.”

  When we got back to our sector we went to have an evening meal in Sam’s Bar. As we entered the bar the place very quickly became silent as people turned to stare at us. “It’s our clothes,” I whispered to Gary.

  “It’s OK,” said Gary loudly to the silent bar, “it’s Roy’s birthday and he likes to dress as a cowboy.”

  “Can he sing YMCA?” shouted a voice from the back. There was a ripple of laughter and then the conversations slowly started up again as the noise of Sam’s Bar slowly returned to its usual level. We walked over to a table where Russell was sat and joined him.

  “Happy birthday Roy,” said Russell.

  “It’s not my birthday. Gary made all that up because of the clothes we’re wearing.” I told Russell about the day’s events and where we’d been. He seemed so excited because he was coming with us tomorrow. At about half past eight I left Gary and Russell in the bar to go back to my apartment.

  “See you tomorrow at ten,” said Russell, “I can hardly wait. Where are we going?”

  “I think we’ll go to the other side of the Chinese sector tomorrow. What are you going to wear tomorrow Gary, your jumpsuit or your cowboy outfit?”

  “Definitely my cowboy outfit.”

  “I’ll see you both tomorrow then.”

  Gary and Russell looked at each other and together said very loudly “Happy birthday Roy!”

  On the way out several people wished me happy birthday and I thanked them. I could hear Gary laughing as I left the bar. When I arrived back at the apartment I played Adams on my favourite game. He had changed tactics like he said he would. We played five games and on each game he came out guns blazing. I won all five games. When we finished I sat back in the sofa and Adams asked me “Do you not have anything to say? No shouts of joy? No celebration that you’ve beaten me in five straight matches? No taunting about how much you’ve beaten me, a special victory dance?”

  “No.”

  “Why?”

  “It’s funny but now that I’ve finally beaten you I don’t feel elated about it at all. The challenge of playing a superior opponent is far more exciting than actually beating you. To be honest, now that I’ve beaten you there’s no more challenge.”

  “Perhaps we need to start playing another game?”

  “Perhaps I should stop playing games?”

  “No way, I love playing computer games against you and you are a great gamer.”

  “OK then we’ll have a look for a new game tomorrow night. I’m going to bed.”

  Chapter 11 – Thursday

  “Roy wake up,” pleaded Adams.

  “Roy wake up please.”

  “Roy.”

  “ROY!”

  “What, what’s happening?” I was still half asleep and for a few seconds I had no idea where I was. “What’s wrong Adams?”

  “Simon wants to talk to you.”

  “OK put him on.”

  “Hi Roy. I wonder if you could come over to my office right now.”

  “What time is it?”

  “It’s after eight in the morning.”

  “OK. I’ll be there in about fifteen minutes.”

  Have you ever noticed how when you are in a rush everything seems to take twice as long as normal? The shower gel is always at the end and you have to keep sucking air back into the pack and shaking it to get the last squeeze. Then you hit your hand on the tap knocking the toothbrush flying, and it’s not the pain but the inconvenience that bothers you the mo
st. That’s when you realise that you haven’t been squeezing the toothpaste from the end, so you have to massage it down to get it to flow. And finally, because you rushed drying, all your clothes take ages to get on and they stick to the wet patches and refuse to slide into place. Socks are the worst, it’s like they are deliberately mocking you. Oh, so it’s only me then is it? And thank you, yes I know that I’ll find sympathy in the dictionary, somewhere between ‘Shit’ and ‘Syphilis’.

  Cannoning off the wall in the hall, I’d lost my balance trying to slip my shoes on whilst heading out of the door, it suddenly occurred to me that I was in for a bollocking; bugger, damn and blast! Foreign Simon had obviously told our Simon that he’d seen me in the Chinese sector and I’d been summoned to account for my misdemeanours. I limped hurriedly to Simon’s office. Hobbled by an injury sustained having all-but broken my shin, smashing into the corner of the coffee table in the living room whilst scooping up my shoes without halting. But it’s OK, the bones will knit together in another month or so and then the pain will subside, hopefully. Better still, perhaps Doctor Philberts could stick me in the reconstruction machine to mend all my bumps and bruises.

  I felt sorry for Russell because we’d promised to take him out today and I bet he was going to be disappointed. Russell seemed so excited last night about coming out with us on a hike round the station. It was a real shame that our little visits were going to be cut short and I felt my heart sink a little because I’d enjoyed China and America and I would have liked to have seen more of the station. Russia was a bit of a let-down, but as far as I knew it should be the only sector that was empty.

  Panting from rushing, I arrived at the pilot’s facilities and went straight to Simon’s office, knocked on the door and waited to be summoned. When he shouted ‘come’ I entered his office and sat in a chair opposite him.

  “I’m really sorry Simon.” I penitently blurted out

  “What?”

  “I’m very sorry and I won’t do it again.” It seemed that the more I tried to stop mumbling, the more I mumbled.

  “What are you talking about?”

  Clearing my throat I managed to speak clearly. “You’re about to give me a bollocking.” I said, my head bowed down and eyes locked on my shoes.

  “You mean about you travelling the sectors? I’m not interested as long as you don’t get into any trouble.”

  “Oh. So why am I here?”I replied, lifting my head and looking up.

  “I have some very disturbing news that I need to discuss with you.”