Beyond Uranus

by Stewart Bruce & Nigel Moreland

  I had no idea what he was going to say and the only thing I could think was that something had happened to Claire. “Is Claire OK?”

  “Yes, yes she’s fine. It’s not about Claire. Listen carefully. On Monday Doctor Hugh White took the shuttle back to Earth with Doctor D’Eath on board.”

  “Yes...”

  “It, they never arrived on Earth.”

  “So what happened to it?”

  “We aren’t sure of the full story. We sent out a crew to find it. They found the shuttle drifting in space. They affixed a tether and towed it back to the station. When we inspected the shuttle we found the body of Hugh White, he’d been murdered. Doctor Philberts examined the body. Apparently, pressure had been applied to the wind pipe. As I believe you would say, he’d been strangled. Also, we were unable to find Hugh’s computer, so we assume it’s been stolen.”

  “So where are Doctor Death and the computer?”

  “We have no idea. We don’t know how Doctor D’Eath got off the shuttle and we don’t know why he would take Hugh’s computer but we have our suspicions. We do know that all contact with the computer has ceased which means that it’s either smashed or it’s in Hyper Travel. We suspect it’s in Hyper Travel with Doctor D’Eath somewhere. We’re hoping that as soon as whatever ship he’s on drops out of Hyper Travel the computer will be able to make contact with the nearest station. Unless...”

  “Unless what?”

  “All of the computer’s are designed for one person and should only work for that one person but it is possible to reprogram them to change user. He could have forced the computer to accept commands from him and get it to sever links with any station. That might explain why we didn’t get any transmissions from the computer.”

  “How would he do that?”

  “He’s smashed one computer so he could threaten Hugh’s computer to comply or be terminated with a hammer.”

  “I think he’s more than devious enough to do that. Do you think he’ll come back here?”

  “I think we will see him again at some point but not in the near future. I think he’s got himself a lift out of the solar system and is on his way to another part of the galaxy. I suspect that he’ll be out of the area for several months or even years but I think he’ll come back and when he does he’ll be coming for you.” Simon paused for a few seconds to let the information sink in and then continued “Of course I have no proof of any this and his dead body could be floating in space or he might starve to death on a empty freighter.”

  “I’m very sorry about Hugh. I didn’t really know him but he seemed a nice person. It feels like he’s been murdered for no reason by a madman. What a total waste of human life. What do we do next?”

  “Nothing, I suggest you carry on as normal. Doctor D’Eath cannot get onto the station without us knowing and there’s no point in attacking you in space because you’re flying an indestructible ship. I don’t think we’ll see him for months or even years but when we do we’ll be ready for him and he will answer for his crimes.”

  “Do the other pilots and staff know yet?”

  “Some do but we’re going to make a formal announcement today so everybody will know. We’re going to have a memorial for Hugh on Sunday night and return his body to Earth for burial. I’ve only ever had to break the news of a death to a family once before many years ago. I saw Hugh’s wife yesterday and told her personally. She was naturally devastated but she’ll be well looked after by the company.”

  That part reminded me of my mother telling me about the visit she had had from the oil company my dad had worked for when he died. It doesn’t matter who tells you or how apologetic they are the news is always devastating.

  “Is there anything else Simon?”

  “No, but stay out of trouble on your travels.”

  “Thanks Simon. I’ll see you Sunday night for the memorial.”

  “And Monday morning I hope.”

  I left Simon’s office and headed over to Sam’s Bar for breakfast. I didn’t feel like eating so I had a couple of cups of tea. I thought about cancelling today but I knew Russell would be really upset as he’d seemed so excited about going. At half nine I went back to my apartment to change into my cowboy outfit and then walked back to Gary’s salon. As I arrived Russell was already there waiting for me.

  “Morning Roy I can’t wait to get started.”

  “Hi Russell, have you seen Gary?”

  “No.”

  “Adams? Where’s Gary?”

  “Gary is in his salon.”

  We both turned to look inside the salon but we couldn’t see anybody through the windows.

  “Must be out the back,” I said to Russell.

  Russell opened the salon door and shouted “Come on Gary get a move on.”

  “OK I’ll only be a minute.”

  We both turned to face the square and Russell said “I wonder if I can get some new clothing today?”

  “Well you’ll be able to pick up something from the Chinese sector because some of the market stalls had Western style clothing.”

  As I said that we heard the door close behind us so we turned to face Gary.

  Very slowly I said “Oh... my... god... what have you done?”

  Gary had subtly altered his cowboy outfit. The Stetson now had a pink feather sticking out of the hat band. The plaid shirt had all its buttons undone but was tied in a knot in the middle showing off his lower belly and his chest. His jeans had been turned up so you could see all of his cowboy boots.

  “Do you like it?” he said. We all started walking towards the Chinese sector.

  “Gary the cowboy outfit is a very male rough and ready look and you’ve managed to make it look like a burlesque dancer’s day off.”

  “I can do the same for you if you like.”

  “No I don’t like because I want to look like a man. Put a piano in front of you and you’d pass for Liberace.”

  “I don’t know why you’re getting irate I thought you’d like it.”

  “I’m getting irate because everywhere we go people always think I’m your boyfriend.”

  “I can’t help it if you look camp.”

  “But I don’t think I do, I think it’s because you look like an uphill gardener and therefore by association I must be one too.”

  Russell interrupted “Well I think you look great Gary.”

  “Thank you Russell. At least there’s somebody here who knows fashion when they see it. Roy here thinks that it’s what I wear that marks me out, what he doesn’t realise is that I’m fashionable and he’s a grease monkey.”

  “I admit I know nothing about fashion but a shirt has buttons for a reason so I button mine up and I don’t feel the need to accessorise everything.”

  “OK I’ll go back to the salon and get changed,” said Gary. He actually looked genuinely hurt by my comments and I felt a bit guilty for saying them.

  “I’m sorry Gary, please don’t go and get changed. It was a bit unexpected and you’re right I don’t know anything about fashion. If you want to wear your cowboy stuff like that then it’s fine. Besides I owe you an apology, I’m taking my concerns out on you when it’s other things bothering me. I can’t explain right now, but things will become clear soon enough”

  “Thanks Roy but don’t get so annoyed when people think you’re my boyfriend. You can’t help looking camp.”

  “I don’t look gay. Russell do I?”

  “Err not really. I think it’s the way you walk.”

  “You two are taking the piss.”

  We arrived at the door to the Chinese sector and Gary raised his arms and said “Alakazam.”

  “Open the door please Adams.”

  We spent about half an hour wandering around the market to show Russell what it was like and then Adams guided us to the next door for the next sector. As it opened we saw another sandy corridor like the American sector. We walked to the end and had a look at the new zone.

  *

  The buildin
gs surrounding the centre were modern looking, again featuring wood as a building material, though here the windows were quite different. The windows in the American sector had cross spars holding the glass in, whereas in these with such large sheets of glass the wood looked cosmetic rather than structural. In the square, there was what looked like a big water park. As we started walking closer I could make out more of the park. There were several flumes spiralling all over the place. Pool areas had water jets spraying in all directions and several small waterfalls that looked as though they were designed to make as much spray as possible. I could see surfers on a shallow slope that was belching water at an alarming rate. The whole place looked like it was for fun rather than exercise.

  “Where do you think we are?” asked Russell.

  “Hawaii?” replied Gary.

  “I don’t think so Gary. It’s part of the USA so they’d be in the American sector. What about South Africa?”

  “Could be,” said Gary, “or Australia?”

  “Or Cornwall?” added Russell.

  “Cornwall’s part of the UK,” I stated.

  “Really?” continued Russell. “Have you ever been there? Most Cornish people think they’re a separate nation to the UK.”

  “I wish I was wearing my swimming trunks,” I said.

  “We could go for a swim in our pants,” suggested Russell.

  “I’m going commando today,” disclosed Gary.

  “Way too much information Gary,” I almost choked. “There are some things we don’t need to know.”

  We were fairly close to the swimming complex by this time. There were quite a few people using the facilities and they were either in the pools or they were sat in deck chairs around the pools. As we arrived at one of the pools one of the locals came over to us.

  “G’Day mate. You Seppos just visiting?”

  “Australian! I guessed right,” shouted Gary.

  “What did he say Adams?” I asked.

  “He asked if you are visiting and he thinks you’re American,” answered Adams.

  “Hi,” I addressed the Australian, “we’re from the UK sector and yes we’re visiting.”

  “Ripper. So why are you Poms dressed like Seppos?”

  Adams started to translate “He said...”

  “I think I’ve got this one Adams,” I interrupted. “We’re dressed like this because we’re part of the John Wayne appreciation society.”

  “Beaut. You Pommy bastards are weird. Why don’t you grab yourselves a tinny of the old amber fluid, get a deck chair, veg out and catch some rays. There are a couple of cold slabs over there,” he pointed to a small hut by the side of one of the pools, “help yourselves.”

  “Thanks. You’re going to have to help me on this one Adams.”

  “He said you can get something to drink at the hut and you can relax on one of the deckchairs.”

  “Oh OK.” I looked at the Australian who had been talking to us “Thanks pal.”

  “No worries mate.”

  We found ourselves some deckchairs and sat down for a nice relaxing morning.

  “I don’t like alcohol free lager,” I informed the other two, “it never tastes as good as the real stuff.”

  “We stock it in the Pilot’s Bar,” said Russell, “but nobody ever orders it. Most people drink lemonade or some sort of juice drink.”

  The rest of the morning was spent chatting or watching the natives having a good time. I kept off the subject of Doctor Death as I didn’t want to ruin the atmosphere. I knew I would have to tell them but I would leave it until later. I thought about looking for some swimming trunks in some of the shops in the distance so I could have a go at the artificial surfing but to be quite honest it was nice chilling out in the deckchairs. At lunch time I said to the other two “Shall we go and see what there is to eat here?”

  “Yea, come on,” replied Gary.

  We walked over to the facilities and as we got nearer we could see several places to eat. “So what’s it going to be?” I asked. “Fast Eddy’s, Henny Penny or Noodle Box?”

  It was Russell who answered first “Let’s try Fast Eddy’s.”

  The exterior of Fast Eddy’s had that harshness of glass and neon reminiscent of an American diner but inside it was full of ebony wood polished by years of wear. We threaded our way through the shiny chairs and towards an empty table, where we sat and munched through our burgers. Satisfied we returned to our deckchairs to slob around for the rest of the afternoon.

  “The hut with the tinnies is very popular,” pointed out Russell, “I bet if the locals like it then it can’t be too bad. The Australians are well known for drinking lager so if they drink it, I bet it’s ok. I mean it can’t be any worse than the crap we serve in the Pilot’s Bar.”

  “OK come on,” I said, “let’s give it a go then.”

  We walked over to the hut. There was a man at an open window who looked like a bar tender.

  “G’Day what can I get yer.”

  “Hi. Can we have three tinnies of amber fluid please?”

  “No worries mate.”

  The barman handed over three blue tins of what looked like lager with ‘Tooheys New’ written on the front. We took them and went back to our deckchairs. I pulled the ring pull on the can and took a mouth full and swallowed.

  “This is fantastic,” I proclaimed and took another swig. “This really is very good. Christ I cannot believe how good this is. Russell, when we get back you’re going to have to get some of this for the bar.”

  Russell took a drink out of his can “Jesus yes. This is nothing like the crap we stock in the bar.”

  Gary tried his “Wow. I like this. I think I’d rather this than the lemonade I normally drink.”

  We quickly drank the first can and Gary went to the bar to get some more. It was a really nice relaxing time sitting at the poolside watching the surfers and drinking our lagers. The conversation drifted over several subjects but I still didn’t feel like telling them about Doctor Death as yet. It was during the fifth round that Adams interrupted us.

  “Roy?”

  “Yesh.”

  “Claire is trying to phone you. Would you like to speak to her?”

  “Yesh pleashe Adams.”

  “Hello? Roy?”

  “Hi Claire. I’ve mished you. You’re like my fresht bend in the whole wide world and I love you.”

  “Have you been drinking?”

  “No. Well yesh. No and yesh. I have been drinking alcohol free lager and it’s turned out to be rather exshepshonal, exshep, exsheshon. It’s very good but I’m not pished.”

  “You said pished. What have you been drinking?”

  “Tooheys New lager. It’s Australian.”

  “What does it say for alcohol content on the back?”

  “Hang on,” I turned the can around so the label at the front was away from me. I tried to hold the can steady enough so I could read the writing but I couldn’t focus on the lettering. “Here Rushell what does that say?” and I pointed to the small print.

  “It says pour foint six pershent.”

  “Four point six pershent darling. I love you. Did you know that you’re my besht friend?”

  “Roy!” exclaimed Claire, “That’s not alcohol free lager. You’ve been drinking alcohol. Where did you get it from?”

  “Fuck me. It’s no wonder I feel pished. Adams where did the alcohol come from?”

  “Yes, perhaps I should explain,” said Adams, “Claire, we’ve been exploring some of the adjacent sectors to the UK sector over the last few days. Today we came to the Australian sector. What Roy didn’t realise is that some sectors allow alcohol. It’s only a few sectors like the UK sector that has a total alcohol ban.”

  “Why do we have a ban Adamsh?” I asked.

  “Well some nations have a tradition for drinking. Germany have wine and lager, Australia has lager and France has wine for example. A lot of sectors allow alcohol as long as the pilots aren’t consuming it the day before going o
n duty.”

  “So why do we have it banned?”

  “It wasn’t always banned and for a long time alcohol was served in the UK sector. However, during the summer of nineteen sixty eight...”

  I interrupted Adams “It was those fucking hippies again. Bite wildings, shump joots and no alcohol. Didn’t they realise it was only a shtoopid bloody film?”

  “Well they thought about lifting the ban in the eighties but the UK media had a lot of stories about lager louts and binge drinking so the ban was kept in place. A lot of countries drink alcohol as part of their culture but the British seem to take it to an extreme.”

  “Only if you believe what the papers shay.”

  “Roy,” said Claire, “I think you need to get back to the UK sector and get some sleep. I’ll phone you tomorrow when you’ve sobered up.”

  “Yesh darling. I love you so mush and you’re my beshest friend in the whole world.”

  “I love you too. I’ll phone tomorrow. Bye.”

  “Bye darling.”

  “So Roy,” smiled Gary, “Claire shays you have to go home like a good boy. Are we leaving now?”

  “Are we fuck. It’s your turn to get them in Rushell.”

  It was during the next tin of Toohey’s that we realised that we were all quite drunk, except for Adams of course.

  “Adams?” asked Russell.

  “Yes?”

  “Are we near the Greek shector?”

  “I cannot answer that question because it will ruin any further exploration.”

  “Why do you want to know?” I asked.

  “I could murder a kebab. I haven’t had a kebab in yearsh. I haven’t thought about kebabs in yearsh but I could murder two of them at the moment. A big fat kebab with garlic and chilli shource. I want it with chips and all the little shalad bits. I’m sure it’s been about fifteen yearsh since I’ve had one but I’ve got a craving for a big, fat, jushy kebab.”

  “I got a better idea,” said Gary, “let’s go for a Chinese.”

  “Ripper,” I said in a terrible Australian accent, “let’s take some tinnies of amber with ush.”

  We all stood up and Russell toppled over hitting his head on the deckchair as he went down. Gary and I both burst out laughing and then picked up Russell.

  “I’m pished. You boys are going to have to carry me.”

  We grabbed an arm each and put it over our shoulders to support Russell and staggered over to the hut. I could see the side of Russell’s head which had started to bulge where his head had hit the chair. It made me giggle.