Hal Spacejock 6: Safe Art

by Simon Haynes

  "Will you come and tuck me in?" said Meri, with a cheeky smile.

  "Yes. No! You have to stay down there, understood?"

  Meri studied his face, then nodded. Hal turned the light out and opened the door, and seconds later he was alone again. He stood there in the passageway for a good five minutes, looking along the hall towards Harriet's door, praying for her to come out, to come back to him. Then he looked at his bunk. Had he fallen asleep and dreamt the whole thing, or had Harriet really been there? Gently he touched his cheek, remembering the feel of Harriet's tears on his face. He ran his fingers along his jaw and rubbed the tips together.

  They were completely dry.

  Hal's shoulders slumped, and he turned away from the corridor to enter his cabin. The door shut behind him with a final mocking hiss, and he lay down on his bunk. He stared at the ceiling, picturing Harriet's face, and two hours later he was still trying to re-enter his earlier dream.

  Chapter 25

  When Hal entered the flight deck the next morning he found Clunk sitting at the console. The robot turned at the sound of the lift, a welcoming smile on his face. "Good morning, Mr Spacejock. Did you sleep well?"

  "Don't ask," muttered Hal. "What about you?"

  Clunk hesitated. "Well, I don't want to worry you, but —"

  "Too late. What's up?"

  "I'm having a little trouble with my vision."

  "Really? How did that happen?"

  "It's just a circuit failure. Nothing to worry about." Clunk hesitated. "Of course, it means I'm incapable of flying the ship."

  "Wait. What?"

  "I can't fly the ship until my vision is repaired."

  "When will that be?"

  "Oh, a service centre will have it fixed in no time." Clunk frowned. "Of course, we're in space right now, which makes things a little tricky."

  Hal thought for a moment. "Can't you plug into the Navcom and use the ship's cameras?"

  "I'm already doing so, but I can't process all the feeds and fly the ship simultaneously. My circuits aren't up to it."

  Hal nodded slowly. "So you need me to land this thing."

  "Yes, and I'm sure you'll do a fine job. Isn't that right, Navcom?"

  "Yes, Clunk," said the ship's computer. "By the way, would you like me to save your bookmark?"

  "What bookmark?" asked Hal.

  "It's nothing," said Clunk quickly. "Just a little light reading."

  Hal glanced at the main screen, which was showing a multiple choice:

  Your pilot is about to make a fatal mistake. Do you

  A) Let him

  B) Tactfully point out the error of his ways

  C) Take control - as usual

  D) Throw him out the airlock.

  "It's called The honest robot's guide to lying like a human," said the Navcom. "Clunk's been studying it all night."

  "No I haven't," said Clunk sharply.

  "You see?" said the Navcom. "He's already mastered the first lesson."

  "All right, I confess," sighed the robot.

  "As you can tell, he's yet to master lesson two."

  "Navcom, that's enough." Hal put a hand on Clunk's shoulder. "Why do you want to lie?"

  "No particular reason."

  Bzzzt!

  "Navcom, I won't warn you again," said Hal, tapping his finger on the console. "Come on Clunk. Explain."

  "The next few hours could be the busiest and most stressful of your life, and —"

  "You obviously weren't in my cabin last night," muttered Hal.

  Clunk ignored the interruption. "As I was saying, there are difficult times ahead. You'll have to navigate to Niaritz and land this ship on your own."

  "That's okay, I'll have the Navcom to help. It'll be a doddle."

  "Ordinarily, that would be the case."

  "What's different this time?"

  "The venue's in a remote location."

  "Of course it is."

  "There are many high mountains, and navigation will be hazardous."

  "I shouldn't have asked."

  "The weather has been bad lately, and foggy conditions have reduced visibility to zero."

  "Get to the punchline."

  Clunk took in a decent breath of air. "Very well. Assuming we can find the planet in the first place, and that you manage to overcome the obstacles in your path, you'll still have to land the ship on a patch of dirt the size of a kitchen garden."

  "Gardens can be pretty big sometimes."

  "This one makes a window box look like an aircraft hangar."

  Hal pinched the bridge of his nose, hoping the pain would wake him up. Instead, it just made his eyes water. "Seems like an odd place for an art expo. What's this planet do, anyway?"

  "Do?"

  "Imports, exports … you know."

  "I believe it's the manufacturing hub for Backsight Industries."

  Hal brightened. "They sell weapons there?"

  "No, they make weapons there."

  "Yeah, but —"

  "Strictly under contract for the military. No civilian sales, no factory tours and no free samples."

  Hal pulled a face. "One day I'll arm this ship. You see if I don't."

  "I can't wait," said Clunk insincerely.

  "Hey, have you seen our passengers this morning?"

  Without a word, Clunk pointed to his eyes.

  "Sorry. Force of habit."

  "I wouldn't do it, if I were you."

  "Do what?"

  "Don't tell them how dangerous this landing is going to be. The favoured approach would be to set down first and explain later."

  "Surely they have a right to know the danger?"

  "It's up to you, but the sensible thing would be letting them think everything is fine —"

  "Until I slam this thing into a mountain. Go out happy, is that what you mean?"

  "We could abandon the delivery," suggested Clunk.

  "I'm no chicken," said Hal, frowning.

  "I'm not suggesting any such thing."

  Bzzzt!

  Hal rounded on the console. "Navcom, for the last time —"

  "It's an incoming call. Max Bright would like to speak to you."

  "Oh. Put him on, then."

  Bright was relaxing in an armchair, a tankard of beer at his elbow. He seemed to be sitting in the lounge of a bar, and this was confirmed when he placed a quick order for a steak and chips. "And make sure there's plenty of mustard."

  "Take your time," said Hal. "Don't worry about us."

  "Ah, Mr Spacejock. I trust everything is in order?"

  "Couldn't be better," said Hal, before Clunk blurted out the truth. "There's just one thing , though. Your voucher bounced, and I had to pay all the fees and charges on Pegzwil out of my own pocket."

  "Probably an admin error," Bright waved his hand airily. "You can't get the staff these days."

  "And the money?"

  "I'll settle up. Don't you worry about it."

  "It's you who should be worried. If you don't cough up before this conversation finishes, I'm pushing your precious artworks out the back door."

  Bright sat up in a hurry. "You can't do that! They have to be delivered!"

  "They will be. All over the nearest planet."

  "Okay, okay. I'll authorise a transfer right now." Bright took up a commset and started tapping the screen. "There. The funds should come through any minute."

  "Just came into some money, did you?"

  "As a matter of fact, that's what I'm calling about. Olivia Backsight bought my entire collection."

  "I heard about that." Hal was still amazed anyone would splash out on a pile of pretentious junk, but he decided not to share his opinion with Bright. At least, not until the money came through.

  "I just wanted to emphasise how important it is that you take care of my works. There's a great deal of money involved, and my pieces must arrive in perfect condition."

  "Relax. We always deliver cargo in perfect pieces."

  "Yes, er, quite. Anyway, I must
go. I'm planning some daring new works the like of which have never been seen."

  "I can't wait," muttered Hal.

  The screen went dark, and there was a chime from the console. "Funds transferred into your account," said the Navcom.

  "How much?"

  "Two thousand credits."

  Hal smiled. "Set it aside, will you? I need it to fix Clunk's eyesight."

  "It won't be that much," protested Clunk.

  "It will be if we throw in a few upgrades."

  * * *

  The Volante arrived in orbit around Niaritz with Hal at the controls. Entry into the atmosphere went smoothly, thanks to plenty of help from the Navcom and even more advice from Clunk, although their steep descent blazed a vivid trail across the sky.

  "Not bad, Mr Spacejock," said Clunk, in a tone of voice that indicated anything short of a head-on collision was acceptable. "However, next time I'd suggest setting your coffee aside so you can use both hands on the controls."

  Hal took a sip of the lukewarm liquid and studied the screen in front of him. The display showed a radar-generated image of the surface, the fast-moving terrain like a close-up of a choppy ocean. Peaks and valleys scrolled past at a leisurely pace, and a staggering amount of data moved up the sides of the screen. "How can I concentrate with all that data flying past?"

  "The landing indicator system will kick in soon." Clunk had barely finished speaking when a hollow red square appeared in the middle of the screen. There was another smaller one behind it, and then a whole trail appeared, leading away into the distance like a tunnel.

  The Volante sailed right down the middle, and Hal's confidence grew as he made tiny adjustments to the controls. "Hey, this isn't so bad!"

  "You're getting the hang of it, Mr Spacejock. Just let me know when you want the autopilot off."

  "I thought it was off."

  "No, the Navcom is still lining the ship up."

  Hal gripped the controls, preparing himself for the challenge ahead. "Okay, let's do it."

  There was a muted beep, and 'Manual Control' appeared in the lower-right corner of the screen. The red squares immediately rose to the top, and Hal pulled back on the stick to chase them. The engine roared and the Volante shot into the sky. The red squares whipped off the bottom of the screen, and when Hal tilted the nose down again he saw the red approach tunnel laid out below like a railway track. The Volante descended slowly, until it was racing along just above the tunnel. Then, with a twitch of the controls, Hal lined them up once more. "Not bad, eh?"

  "Excellent, Mr Spacejock. However, it's traditional to align the bottom of the ship towards the ground."

  "Eh?"

  "We're flying upside-down."

  Hal righted the ship, then frowned at a new problem. In the distance there was a mountain, and the red squares seemed to go straight through it. "Er, Clunk?"

  "Yes, Mr Spacejock."

  "We're heading towards a mountain."

  "That's all right. Just follow the guidelines."

  "The red squares, yes?"

  "Correct."

  Hal shrugged, and did as he was told. The mountain got closer and closer, until he could pick out individual trees on the slopes. Still the red squares aimed right through the middle, and it was only when Hal saw wildlife running for cover that he realised the squares weren't going to veer off after all. "Er … Clunk?"

  "Collision imminent," said the Navcom calmly. "I suggest we pull up."

  Hal yanked back on the controls, and the Volante stood on its tail, engines howling. They powered towards the sky at full emergency throttle, skimming the mountain peak and blasting clouds of snow into the air with the exhaust. When his heart stopped racing, Hal levelled the controls and turned to the robot. "Follow the red squares, eh? Are you trying to kill me, you tin-plated maniac?"

  "I don't understand. Approach is merely a case of following the guidelines. There shouldn't be … oh!"

  "Yes?"

  Clunk looked uncomfortable. "I forgot to change the navigation chart. The terrain you're looking at belongs to Pegzwil."

  Hal gaped at him. "But this is Niaritz!"

  Clunk mumbled an apology as he adjusted the database. When he was done the terrain on the screen changed to an even more choppy layout, and this time the green lines and dots fitted the mountain peaks Hal could see in the distance. He took hold of the controls, and before long they were flying along the red corridor once more. It snaked gently between the mountains, and the Volante's engines hammered off the valley walls as Hal guided the ship towards its destination.

  They flew in silence for half an hour, until Hal spotted two huge peaks side by side, emerging from the cloud cover like snowy white mounds in a bathtub full of milk. "That reminds me. Did you remember to tell Meri the lift was faulty?"

  Clunk nodded.

  The screen darkened as the sun fell below the horizon, left behind by the Volante's turn of speed, and Hal began to see patches of light between the mountain peaks. Visibility was poor, and the lights made patches of clouds glow like radioactive candyfloss. "Is that our landing zone?"

  "Yes."

  "So we just fly in and land?"

  "No, it's best to circle first. That way you can pick the spot."

  Hal was still following the squares, and he realised they were beginning to curve again. He throttled back and eased the ship around, following the indicators in a turn that got steadily tighter. The Volante was much lower now, and he could see the ground clearly through breaks in the cloud cover. Then he noticed something alarming: the red squares had disappeared. "Hey, what happened to the guidance?"

  "That's okay, Mr Spacejock. We're above the landing zone. Navcom, zoom in a little."

  The screen showed swirling clouds with the occasional patch of light, and Hal slowed the Volante even further. "Where do I land?"

  "Do your circuit first. The Navcom will map the area with radar and present a high-resolution image."

  Hal gripped the controls and scanned the screen, directing the ship in tight circles as the Navcom tagged obstacles with little labels.

  "Scanning complete," said the computer at last.

  The screen showed dozens of buildings, depicted in ghostly green wireframe, and Hal realised the Backsight weapons 'factory' was actually a huge complex. "Where are we landing?"

  "Outside the perimiter fence," said the Navcom, adding a red cross to the display. "Your ideal approach is from the South-West."

  The screen rotated and a large arrow appeared, pointing along the ground to a tiny square of dirt. In between were high voltage pylons, several parked ships and a ramshackle barn with a thatched roof.

  "Are you sure about that approach?" asked Hal. "It looks a bit crowded."

  "Trust me, that's your safest option. If we fly over the complex they'll shoot us down."

  Hal shrugged and turned the Volante away from the landing zone. After flying straight for a few minutes he turned sharply and dropped closer to the ground. They swooped across the countryside, rocketing low over trees, jinking between the hills and darting over the occasional house, and Hal began to enjoy himself as he tested his skills. It made a nice change from blasting through empty space.

  "How's it going?" asked Clunk.

  "Good," said Hal, not taking his eyes off the screen. They were moving fast, and the margin for error was minimal. He winced as they shot between a couple of huge trees, then gasped as a stand of tall trees sprang out of the fog. Before he could react there was a CRASH-CRASH-CRASH from below, the Volante shuddering with every impact.

  Hal frowned. There was plenty of clearance under the ship, so they couldn't possibly have hit anything. "Is someone shooting at us?"

  "No hits on the hull," reported the Navcom. "Damage report nil."

  The barn loomed in front of them, and Hal skimmed over the roof.

  CRASH!

  This time the impact was louder. Hal and Clunk exchanged a puzzled glance, both mystified by the strange noises. "Navcom, can you show a re
ar view?"

  "Certainly."

  The barn appeared on screen. It was rapidly vanishing into the distance, but Hal could clearly see a big hole through the middle. It was almost as if someone had taken a huge bite out of it, and as he watched, the roof collapsed and the sides fell in on themselves. "Weird," remarked Hal. "It's like someone took a shot at us and missed."

  Twang! Twang! Twang!

  Hal saw power lines whipping and sparking in the Volante's wake, neatly cut through the middle. It was almost as though someone were chasing his ship with a sledgehammer … or a wrecking ball.

  "Maybe you should fly a little higher until we work out what's happening," suggested Clunk.

  Hal complied, but not before a dozen trees and another run of power lines fell to the mysterious force. A few minutes later they finally reached the landing field, where Hal managed to stop the ship in mid-air directly above the patch of dirt. By juggling the controls, adjusting the engines and praying a lot, he managed to bring the ship down in a bumpy but successful landing.

  "Well done, Mr Spacejock. That wasn't too bad, all things considered."

  Hal puffed his chest out. Praise from Clunk was rare indeed, and he felt on top of the world. All they had to do now was deliver the artworks, get shot of Bright's Hairpiece, and … Hal frowned. Hairpiece? Hadn't it been …? "Oh no," he breathed, as realisation finally dawned. "Clunk, that bloody rock was hanging under the ship!"

  Clunk's mouth fell open.

  "What do we look like?" said Hal bitterly. "We just used Bright's artwork to play the biggest game of conkers in the history of the galaxy."

  Chapter 26

  Hal ran down the passenger ramp and peered under the ship. Fortunately, the huge rock was still in its sling. Unfortunately, it was jammed underneath the Volante, and the ship had pressed it down into the ground like a walnut embedded in a thickly-iced cake. Hal charged back up the ramp and fired up the Volante's engines, lifting the ship straight off the ground and pulling the rock free of its brand new crater. Then he let the ship drift, dropping slowly towards the ground until the rock settled.

  "Nicely done, Mr Spacejock."

  "We'd better check the rock." Hal jogged down the ramp and ran to the back of the ship, sparing a brief glance for his surroundings. It was foggy and chilly, and he could just make out the looming shapes of parked ships against the dull grey sky. There were lights in the distance, but he wasn't going near those until the cargo was sorted.