by Simon Haynes
Clunk gestured at the keypad. "You program a destination by entering characters in a certain order. Unless you can remember the sequence you pressed on Canessa …"
Hal looked stunned. "You don't know the way home?"
"Correct. We need a map."
Hal looked around the junk. "What would it look like?"
"Not that sort of map. I'd expect to find it in a data storage device." Clunk made for the door.
"Where are you going?"
"This is a gun emplacement, Mr Spacejock. Whatever it's defending, we'll find it further along the track."
Chapter 25
Hal and Clunk rounded a bend and stopped. Ahead, a pair of crumbling stone towers stood either side of the track, with the remains of heavy wooden gates dangling from rusty hinges. Beyond the gates there was a small courtyard, leading to a huge roofed area supported by stone columns. The roof had once been royal blue, but was now just a patchwork of flaky paint, and the flagstones in the courtyard were cracked and choked with weeds.
Clunk led the way between the columns and into the courtyard. Hal followed, with several bottles clutched under his arm. They climbed a short staircase at the far end of the courtyard and entered the cool darkness, where they found a T-junction. Facing them was a grey wall with concrete pillars reaching up to the ceiling at regular intervals. There were drifts of brown leaves around the columns and the air was tainted with the earthy smell of compost. Hal looked left and right. "Which way?"
"Follow me." Clunk turned right and they walked along the deserted corridor in silence, their footsteps echoing off the concrete walls. They passed several openings onto rooms where remnants of furniture and equipment loomed out of the darkness, until Clunk finally stopped before an archway. "There may be defences. You should wait out here."
"Forget it. We're in this together." Hal entered the room and stopped. There was a sagging bench containing several metal boxes and glass screens, thick with dust. One of the screens had a grimy keyboard connected to it with frayed wires. Clunk stepped up for a better look and a spider dropped from the roof on a shimmering thread. Gently moving it aside, he began to inspect the steel boxes. "There are two cables from each going to the roof. They must be for power and communications. Now, if I can just …" There was a beep, and one of the screens flickered. "Aha!" Clunk pulled up an old crate, put Sonya's briefcase down and sat at the keyboard. "First I need to analyse the way the data is stored. Then I'll see whether I can hook directly into the machine." He started by examining the keyboard, whose oval keys were imprinted with the same glyphs as the teleporter keypad. He pressed a button, and the screen filled with characters.
"What's that?" asked Hal, taking a swig from one of his bottles.
"I'm trying to decode the language," said Clunk, pressing several more keys. "I need something with physics or maths - a table of the elements, a fibonacci sequence, anything. So far I've only turned up pages of text."
Hal finished his drink and examined the bottle. It was made of glass, etched with a stylised tree above a row of alien glyphs. "I've got it!" he said excitedly. "Clunk, look!"
The robot turned. "What is it?"
"The tree and the writing. Do you think it's a brand name?"
"That won't help. It could be anything … probably a made up word."
"What about the word "tree", though? They might have used it in the name."
"It's just as likely to be the species. Like pine trees or palm trees." Clunk relented. "All right, let me see."
Hal handed the bottle over, and Clunk glanced at the letters. Then he smiled. "You're right, Mr Spacejock. This is a product of the Lone Tree Drinks Company. Fruit punch, non-alcoholic. I now have enough information to decipher the rest of the language." He set the bottle aside and turned back to the screen, where he began to type rapidly.
"Anyone we can ask for help?"
Clunk typed a query and the screen updated. "I'm sorry, Mr Spacejock. This planet has been deserted for almost three centuries."
"Is there a map of the teleporters?"
Clunk shook his head. "I found references to them, but digging deeper only returned error codes and corrupted data."
Hal looked around the dusty computers. "What about copies?"
Clunk typed something on the keyboard. "There are three off-site backups. Unfortunately it would take days to walk to each of them, and we don't have any supplies."
Hal's shoulders slumped. "That's it, then. We've had it."
"Not quite," said Clunk. "According to the computer, there's a transportation node nearby." He picked up the briefcase and led Hal out of the computer room, turning left into the corridor. Further along, he activated his light and ushered Hal down a long flight of steps. At the bottom, the corridor was narrow, the ceiling damp and mossy.
"I hope it's safe," remarked Hal, eyeing several cracks in the roof. "Hey, you didn't tell me about the people."
"What people?"
"The previous inhabitants. The vanished civilisation."
"The computer has incomplete records, but it seems they went through the teleporters."
"What, all of them?"
"Yes. Over a period of decades."
"Why?"
"Think of the parallel in our own galaxy," said Clunk. "Humans spread out from their home planet, seduced by a new beginning, by unexplored frontiers. They faced long, dangerous journeys aboard second-rate vessels and still they went. The inhabitants of this planet only had to step into the nearest teleporter."
"I guess it would be tempting." Hal recalled his own experience. "I bet nobody told them how painful it was."
"Perhaps they had a higher tolerance than you." Ahead of them, the tunnel forked. "Down here," said Clunk, indicating the right hand side. "Strangely enough, computers played a large part in the exodus."
"How's that? Breaking down?"
"In a way. Technology reached a dead end here, you see. The advent of the teleporter network led to a decline in the sciences. With a galaxy to explore, a whole generation upped and left. By the time anyone really knew what was happening it was too late - the existing machines were beyond understanding or repair. That's when the real tragedy hit."
"What, a natural disaster?"
"Far worse. One day a trainee technician replaced a faulty module in the equipment that ran the planet's medical database. Within minutes, the machine was requesting an unlock code, which nobody could supply. Months later, the low-orbit control computer refused to start because it was programmed to update its license every ten years, and the software company had closed down."
"What a mess."
Clunk nodded. "Emigrating became the only option."
They came to a staircase and began to climb, emerging in a small courtyard where a broken fountain lay in a dried-up concrete pool. "This way," said Clunk, leading Hal into another passage. Halfway along they turned right, walked down three steps and arrived in a cavernous building. It was dim, with only meagre light filtering through clear strips in the roof, and as Hal's eyes adjusted he saw a huge curved surface in the gloom. "What's that?"
"A spaceship," said Clunk.
"You're kidding. These people had interstellar flight?"
"Naturally. How do you think they placed the teleporters?"
"I - hell, I didn't think about it." Hal frowned. "Wait a minute, that teleporter on Canessa was in our galaxy. What were they doing there?"
"Mr Spacejock, I have no idea."
They walked past the ship's rounded nose cone, and Hal stared up at the blank portholes. With its bloated hull, they looked like eyes on some primeval beast. Hal examined the rest of the hangar, and spotted three more spaceships, lined up like stuffed whales in a museum. There were smaller craft in between - half a dozen surface flyers and groundcars, most of them with service hatches and engine covers standing open. There were tools and parts everywhere: on the floor, leaning against the vehicles and covering several workbenches. Coils of wire and steel rope hung from the walls, draped ov
er cutting tools and squares of rusty metal. The far end of the hangar had collapsed, and a sorry-looking spaceship was half-buried under beams and rubble.
"You're not thinking of flying one of these things, are you?" Hal rapped on the bubble canopy of a nearby flyer, and leapt back as an exhaust cone fell off. "The only way you'll get this airborne is with a very large catapult."
"There must be something we can use."
Hal looked at the dusty flyers doubtfully. "What if it breaks down in the middle of nowhere?"
"Would you rather walk both ways?"
"Good point."
They passed several groundcars until they came to one which looked intact. It was covered in dirt like the rest, but the access hatches were closed and it appeared serviceable.
After giving it the once-over Clunk pulled the door open and motioned Hal into the vehicle, then stowed the briefcase in the back seat and climbed in alongside. There were two bucket seats with four-point harnesses and narrow headrests, and in front of them the dashboard was inset with circular indentations, all thick with dust. Hal stretched his legs out and felt something springy under his feet, and when he looked into the foot well he saw four narrow pedals.
Clunk brushed dirt from one of the circles on the dash to reveal a gauge. It had a red bar with violet lines at the extremities, and the needle hovered around the halfway mark. Beneath the red bar were markings in alien script.
"Better clean them all," said Clunk. "I have to determine what information they're conveyeing."
Hal used his sleeve to clean the gauges, coughing at the dust. When he'd finished, Clunk inspected them one by one.
"Fuel gauge, altitude, radio, landing gear and thrust vector. Okay, Mr Spacejock, I'm ready. Fasten your seatbelt."
Hal pulled the harness tight and crossed his arms. "I hope you know what you're doing."
Clunk pressed a button on the dashboard, and for a split second Hal thought they'd blown up. But instead of scattering him across the hangar, the noise continued.
"It's a pity you don't have earplugs," said Clunk, his voice at full volume.
Hal pressed his hands to his ears and nodded.
Clunk twisted the flight stick and pressed one of the pedals. The engine note changed and the car rose unsteadily into the air, hovering above the concrete floor with a blatting sound.
"What about the hangar doors?" asked Hal.
"Third button from the left."
Hal pressed it and the right-hand door grated open, revealing bright blue sky and an expanse of flat, brown land. Clunk guided the car through the gap, turned it to the correct heading and accelerated rapidly.
"F-fast, isn't it?" said Hal, as the landscape flashed by.
Clunk nodded, busy scanning gauges. "I estimate thirty-five minutes to the first location."
*
Hal stared at the horizon, where a series of small bumps had appeared. As the groundcar raced towards them, the bumps resolved into half a dozen buildings with missing roofs, crumbling walls and empty windows. "Doesn't look promising."
The groundcar hummed to a stop, slowed by a combination of reverse thrust and air brakes. Clunk cut the engine, setting it down on a cracked concrete slab. "We'll try the largest building first."
Hal opened his door, coughing in the swirling dust kicked up by their arrival.
They stepped out and walked towards the buildings. Hal glanced at the dirt, wondering how many centuries had passed since the last living creature had walked on this planet. Distracted by the thought, he walked straight into Clunk.
The robot was looking up at the building's facade, frowning at the overhanging brickwork and loose mortar. "I suggest you remain outside, Mr Spacejock. These walls do not look safe."
"They've been there for years. I'm sure they'll last a few more minutes."
"Nevertheless, I would prefer you to remain at a safe distance. In any case, there appears to be nothing but rubble inside."
Hal watched Clunk pick his way between chunks of fallen masonry towards the wide doorway. "How to explore an alien planet," he muttered, crossing his arms. His face brightened as he glanced at the other buildings, and a moment later he was making for the nearest. Clunk hadn't told him to stay away from the rest.
Chapter 26
Clunk stepped over fallen masonry and ducked under loose beams, heading for the back of the room. According to data he'd found on the alien computer, the house belonged to an IT worker responsible for offsite backups. There had also been mention of a safe storage area in the basement.
Near the back of the room he saw an opening in the floor, choked with fallen rubble. He knelt and reached out to move a large chunk of concrete, gripping the edges to slide the piece aside. Before it had moved more than a couple of inches, there was a loud snap and the whole pile of rubble dropped away, cascading down the stairs with a clatter. For a split second Clunk was balanced over the hole, the heavy piece of concrete gripped firmly in his hands. Before he could let go, it tipped him into the darkness.
Clunk rolled down the steps and landed with a crash at the bottom. As the echoes died away he sat up and activated his chest lamp. The weak beam shone into the dust-laden air, picking out four bare walls and a floor strewn with rubble. Clunk angled the light upwards and froze … the roof was bowed down like a canopy full of rainwater, and dust and grit trickled from a series of cracks. The whole structure looked as if it was just waiting for the right moment to come down on his head.
Crawling on hands and knees, Clunk made his way towards the centre of the room. He cleared aside drifts of grit and smiled to himself as a round metal cover was exposed. He slid the bolt and hauled the trapdoor upwards, revealing a dark cavity underneath. The beam from his chest lamp played around the hole, and Clunk's smile grew wider as the light settled on a grey metal box. He was just reaching for it when a rolling peal of thunder made him look up. The thunder grew louder and louder, and there was a loud crack directly overhead.
Clunk threw himself backwards, somersaulting away from the falling roof just in time. Crouched on the lowest step, he could only watch as tons of concrete tumbled down, completely filling the basement.
Barely had the noise and movement stopped when he heard another sound … loud creaks from the building overhead, long drawn out groans as the walls and roof started to give way. The entire building was coming down!
*
Hal found nothing of interest in the ruined house. The roof had gaping holes in it, and the walls were braced with rough wooden poles, attached to the concrete floor with metal plates. Broken furniture was dusted with fallen plaster, and light barely filtered through the cracked, grimy windows.
He turned to leave, tripped over a length of wood and fell against one of the bracing poles. It held for a split second, then crumbled under his weight, bringing down a shower of plaster. One or two bricks fell, and Hal was just backing away when another pole gave way with a loud snap. One by one, the rest followed, and as Hal bolted out the front door the entire structure imploded in slow motion.
The building skewed as it fell, gently nudging the house alongside. With a groan, that building also collapsed, knocking the next in line, until the air was thick with dust and the crash of falling masonry.
"Oh no," muttered Hal. "Clunk!"
He dashed for the end building, which was little more than a pile of rubble under the settling dust. "Clunk? Are you there?"
A beam moved, and Clunk's plaster-streaked face appeared. "Stand back, Mr Spacejock," said the robot. As soon as Hal was clear he pushed the heavy beam aside, raising fresh clouds of dust. Then he stepped out of the ruins.
"I thought they were more stable than that," he remarked, looking along the line of fallen houses. "You didn't go near them?"
"You told me not to." Hal brushed fallen plaster off his flight suit. "Did you find the backup?"
"There was a tin box under a trapdoor in the cellar, and I was just reaching for it when the roof collapsed. The rubble must have crushed it fl
at." Clunk eyed the ruins. "Strange how the buildings just fell over."
Hal shuffled his feet. "So, where's the next site?"
"East. It's just a matter of interpreting the coordinates."
Minutes later they were roaring across the plain, the skimmer bobbing and weaving as Clunk piloted it over the rocky ground.
Hal was beginning to feel the effects of missed sleep and constant travel. He nodded off once or twice, neck bent and head pressed against the window, only to wake in shock each time the flyer changed course. The only warning was a whine from the engine as the load increased, a bare second or two before the craft jinked to one side or the other.
They were converging on a white line that stretched to the horizon ahead of them. "What's that?" asked Hal, leaning forward to squint through the scratched perspex windshield.
"It could be a road," said Clunk.
"Good," said Hal, as the car swerved around another rock. "We could drive in a straight line for a change."
As they got closer, the white line resolved itself into a pair of rails on the ground, poured in a continuous track. "It's a transport device," said Clunk. "Those are train tracks."
"For passengers?"
Clunk shook his head. "Heavy cargo. Something that runs on wheels."
Hal's gaze followed the tracks to the horizon. Was that something ahead? It was a dark bump, barely a smudge in the distance, but they seemed to be heading straight for it. "Is that the next site?"
"It is." Clunk looked serious. "You know there's a good chance none of these backups will be useable, don't you? We could be stuck here forever. You'd have to live out the rest of your life in solitude, with nobody to speak to, no human company …"
"You're all good news, you are," broke in Hal. "Let's worry about that when it happens, okay?"
While they were talking, the smudge on the horizon grew into a sizeable hill that stood alone on the empty plain, the lower slopes dotted with spindly, blackened trees.
Hal stared at it. "Where's the backup? On top?"
"No, there's a gully at the base of the hill, with an entrance at the far end. The only reference I could find mentioned a defence system of some kind. Something about an All-seeing Eye of Death."