Hal Spacejock Omnibus One

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Hal Spacejock Omnibus One Page 65

by Simon Haynes


  "Altitude fifty metres," said the computer, as the roaring got louder.

  Hal pushed the lever a little more.

  "Eighty metres and rising."

  Confident in his new-found skills, Hal eased the throttle past fifty percent. The main drives belted out thrust and the ship rocketed into the sky.

  "Two thousand metres and climbing," said the computer.

  There was a clatter of feet on the spiral stairs and Clunk's head appeared through the hole in the deck. "Mr Spacejock, what are you doing?"

  "Oh, it's you. I'd forgotten you were aboard."

  "Altitude eight thousand," said the computer.

  Clunk stared at Hal. "You took off?"

  "I could fly this thing with my eyes closed."

  "Which ignition sequence did you use?"

  "The usual. So, how's the cargo? Still tying knots?"

  "For your information, I was checking the hyperdrive motor. I doubt it's been used for a decade, and if it fails we'll be stranded forever. Stuck in limbo until the end of time."

  "I know the feeling," muttered Hal.

  "And what's that roaring sound?"

  "The engine," Hal grinned. "Some expert you are."

  "No, the other roar." Clunk stepped off the ladder and scanned the console. "Oh my goodness, the afterburners! We'll be out of fuel in minutes!" He pushed a knob in and the ship slowed immediately.

  "I was just going to do that," said Hal.

  "And ground control? Were you just about to obtain clearance too?" Clunk flipped a switch on the console and a voice filled the flight deck.

  "… calling Phantom-X1. Ground Control to Phantom-X1. Return to base immediately. You are not cleared for departure!"

  Hal flipped the switch off again. "I spoke to the other guy."

  "They're ordering us down," said Clunk.

  Hal cupped a hand to his ear. "I can't hear them."

  Clunk reached for the switch, then hesitated.

  "Break the rules, Clunk. Just this once."

  "Very well," Clunk frowned at him. "It's not like they can take your licence away."

  "Thanks," said Hal, slapping him on the back. "So, where's the Volante?"

  Clunk brought up a local chart, which showed the planet and the Orbiter. As he zoomed out a blue triangle swam into view. "There she is."

  "Can we catch them?"

  "No, but I can work out their destination." Clunk zoomed the chart out further, and Jordia appeared. "That's the planet they're heading for."

  "Hey, that's great! We can get the ship back and deliver the crate at the same time."

  "Kill two birds with one stone, you mean?"

  "Bird or bloke, I'm going to kill whoever took my ship," said Hal with conviction.

  Chapter 17

  Jasmin had quickly tired of waiting for Spacejock. A brief scan of the Navcom had revealed that the computer did everything, so with a tight deadline to beat she'd taken the controls herself. Lift-off had been uneventful except for the unguided vessel which had appeared out of nowhere and almost collided with them, but the Navcom's course change neatly avoided the descending ship. An unlicensed space hog out for a joy ride, thought Jasmin, and put it out of her mind.

  Now she was sitting in the captain's chair in the flight deck, while the Volante's engines drove the ship deeper and deeper into space, rapidly leaving planet Cathua behind. Barry and Ace were supposedly checking over their equipment in the hold, but she had an idea "checking equipment" was mercenary slang for "sleeping". Still, without Spacejock aboard she only had two unpredictable humans to deal with, and a compliant Navcom had accepted her piloting role without question. The computer hadn't even objected when Jasmin had blocked all communications.

  They were well on the way to the nearest hyperspace point, the first of a string of jumps that would take them to Jordia, when a vessel appeared on the screen. After several violent course changes it straightened up and headed directly for the Volante.

  "Navcom, I need an ID on that vessel."

  "It's the Phantom-X1, a modified Alpha II class. She made regular trips between Jordia and Cathua until she was taken out of service five years ago."

  "Short range?"

  "Yes. Strictly an inner system vessel."

  Jasmin frowned. Was it a coincidence the ship was on the same course, or had someone caught wind of her mission? Either way, they were no match for the Volante. She zoomed the chart out until Jordia appeared, and then zoomed out even further until Cathua and Jordia were close together in the centre of the screen. When they were almost touching, Plessa appeared at the far edge. "I need a course change," she told the Navcom.

  "Ready and waiting."

  Jasmin traced a line halfway to Plessa and then back to Jordia.

  "I cannot accept that," said the Navcom. "We'll use thirty percent more fuel to no advantage."

  "It's necessary."

  "Clunk would never allow such a waste."

  "I'm not Clunk."

  "And Mr Spacejock is very keen on saving money."

  "I'm not Spacejock either. I'm Jasmin, and as a member of this crew I'm to be obeyed."

  "You may be on the roster, but I don't remember you."

  "Your database crashed. Clunk restored a backup but you lost a day or so." Jasmin tapped a finger on the console. "You will accept the course."

  "No I won't," said the Navcom stubbornly. Jasmin's calculations vanished from the screen and a new course appeared, joining Cathua and Jordia. "A straight line is the shortest distance between two points. Even Mr Spacejock understands that principle, and he couldn't navigate his way out of a shopping mall."

  "Put my damned course back!"

  "No. I won't."

  Jasmin clenched her fists. Her aggressive side wanted to smash a hole in the console and rip the Navcom's brains out, while her moderate side just wanted to smash a hole in the console. "I have to go via Plessa!"

  "Via implies landing."

  "Haven't you heard of sightseeing?"

  "This is a cargo vessel, not a tour bus."

  Jasmin changed tack. "Navcom, has Mr Spacejock ever been forced to evade pursuers?"

  "Once or twice, yes."

  "Did you just outrun them, or did you evade them with sudden course changes?"

  "The latter."

  Jasmin nodded towards the screen. "If we fly in a straight line our pursuers will locate the ship and destroy it. Do you want that?"

  "Of course not."

  "Now do you understand the need for a detour?"

  The dogleg course reappeared. "Course change accepted. First jump in one hour."

  *

  While Jasmin was busy in the flight deck, Barry and Ace conducted their very own tour of the ship. They inspected the sealed crates in the cargo hold, then moved through the engine and generator rooms before peering into the kitchen alcove, all the while keeping an eye open for any valuables small enough to pocket. To their disgust there was little of anything, so they retired to the Volante's rec room where Barry relaxed in one of the armchairs while Ace leafed through a book looking for interesting pictures.

  After a few minutes Ace abandoned the book and looked around for something more exciting. He found it in the jet black cabinet parked in one corner of the rec room. It was the AutoChef, a KleenAir Corporation product originally designed to serve tasty foods on demand, but which had evolved over time into a lethal weapon with unlimited ammunition. In the interests of a cleaner greener environment, and because it was cheap, KleenAir used recycled military hardware in its consumer durables. The hardware was detuned, but once a weapons computer, always a weapons computer. Thus, the AutoChef didn't just dispense food, it launched servings at supersonic speed, radar-guided towards the softest and most vulnerable parts of the human body. Meatballs aren't usually dangerous, but once accelerated to twice the speed of sound they'll go right through you. That was one reason Hal's diet consisted of sandwiches and instant noodles. The other reason was that the machine drew its raw material from the
ship's sewage tank.

  Of course, Ace knew none of this. All he saw was an enticing control panel offering fast food on demand, and he was about to discover just how fast food could be. He glanced at Barry, who was half asleep in the armchair, and decided not to disturb him.

  Tentatively, Ace ordered a cup of soup and a couple of scotch eggs. The machine rumbled for a second or two then sprayed a shower of scalding brown liquid from the dispenser, and only Ace's rapid reflexes saved him from a set of third-degree burns. He was still recovering when a scotch egg blasted from the AutoChef and nearly took his head off. Another whizzed past his elbow, two more nearly kneecapped him, and as he ran for cover a rapid fusillade pursued him across the room, the fist-sized scotch eggs ricocheting off the walls and furniture. Ace dodged the relentless fire, finally seeking refuge behind an armchair. Barry's armchair.

  "Oof!" went Barry, as a scotch egg caught him painfully unawares. "What the —" He sat up and another glanced off his thigh and buried itself in the upholstery. All traces of sleep gone, Barry threw himself behind the armchair as missiles whizzed by. The padded seat leapt on its stubby legs as it absorbed the impacts, until finally the firing ceased. Shaken, Ace raised his head for a quick look, only to duck again as the AutoChef fired a last shot in his direction. The missile smacked into the wall and rolled around beside him, still spinning.

  "What the hell did you do to it?" demanded Barry.

  "I only asked for a snack! Honest!"

  "Beaten by a food dispenser. What kind of mercenary are you, you chicken?"

  "You should know," said Ace sullenly. "You're cooped up with me."

  "Watch and learn, my son." Barry grabbed a scotch egg, bobbed up and whipped it towards the machine with all his strength. Crack! Zingg! Shards of broken plastic exploded from the AutoChef as the scotch egg buried itself in the internals, and a thick cloud of smoke poured out.

  "I think you fried it," said Ace, keeping a wary eye on the smouldering AutoChef.

  "I'll fry you next time." Barry brandished a misshapen scotch egg at him. "Lay off messing with the ship, you hear?"

  *

  Against all odds, it was Hal who noticed the Volante's course change first. To be fair, Clunk was busy at the time, suppressing system errors, cancelling engine warnings and fielding ever more demanding calls from Cathua ground control.

  "Hey, where are they going?" said Hal, pointing at the screen. The star map showed both planets and both ships, but the blue triangle representing the Volante had just made a sharp turn.

  Clunk zoomed the map out until Plessa appeared. "That's their destination."

  "So get after them!"

  Clunk drew a line on the map and stretched it past the Volante. Long before it reached Plessa the line turned red. "That's our maximum range. Unfortunately, the Phantom is an inner system ship."

  Hal pointed to Jordia. "What if we refuel there? It's on the way."

  Clunk drew a line to Jordia, then another to Plessa. "It's tight, but we'll make it if we don't use the afterburners."

  "Excellent. Hey, I just had another idea."

  Clunk raised one eyebrow.

  "Why don't we call Plessa to let them know the Volante has been pinched? They can nab the thieves when they land."

  Clunk's other eyebrow went up. "Two good ideas in a row. I'm impressed."

  Hal looked pleased.

  A few moments later Clunk finished typing. "Message despatched. They should keep an eye out for the ship. In the meantime, we're approaching the first hyperspace jump." He turned back to the console. "Are you ready?"

  "Go for it," said Hal.

  "Actually, I was talking to the computer."

  "No," said the computer.

  "I've configured the jump motor," said Clunk. "What's missing?"

  "The destination."

  Hal shrugged. "Set course for Jordia."

  "No way," said the computer. "It's a —"

  "- manual system," finished Hal. "Clunk, do the hyperspace."

  Clunk examined the console, then felt under the front edge. He pulled open a compartment, revealing a stack of cardboard squares and a set of coloured pencils. "I haven't seen one of these for twenty years."

  "We had those at school," said Hal.

  "You did advanced piloting?"

  Hal shook his head. "Primary school. I was quite good at colouring, too."

  Clunk picked up the cards and saw a fat booklet underneath, along with bits and pieces of the console microphone. He glanced at the components, then took the book and flipped through the pages, revealing a blur of small coloured squares and exotic names.

  "What's that got to do with setting the course?" asked Hal.

  "You find your destination in the book, use the pencils to copy the pattern onto a card, then pass it through the reader."

  There was a long silence as Hal stared at the book, then at the pencils, and finally at the cards. "You're not serious."

  "Sometimes low tech works just as well. Do you want to do the colouring, or should I?"

  "You."

  Clunk took one of the cards from the stack, picked up a handful of pencils and arranged them on the console. He flipped to the book's index, turned to the specified page and started colouring the card.

  Meanwhile, Hal paced the cramped flight deck.

  "Mr Spacejock," called Clunk a minute or two later.

  "Yeah?"

  "There's a pencil missing."

  "What?"

  "I can't find the green pencil. I need it for the last square."

  "Mix up yellow and blue."

  "I don't think that will work," said Clunk doubtfully.

  "Just do it, Clunk."

  The robot nodded and selected a yellow pencil. He coloured in the square, then added the blue to it. After adding a touch more yellow, he glanced up. "It doesn't look very green."

  "Computer?" called Hal.

  "Yeah?"

  "When you scan the card, the colour at the end is supposed to be green."

  "The reader decides what the colours are. I only see the data."

  "Well the last colour is green, okay?"

  "Whatever."

  Clunk took the card and placed it into the slot. There was a beep and a white light flashed.

  "Don't forget," muttered Hal.

  There was a whirring sound under the console, followed by a clacking of several ratchets. They stopped one by one and a blue light flashed.

  "Course locked in," said the computer.

  "Jordia?"

  "How the hell should I know?" said the computer. "You colour the squares, I do the jump."

  Clunk reached for a lever, then hesitated.

  "Go on," said Hal.

  "It might not work."

  "We'll never know at this rate."

  Clunk pulled the lever, which moved slowly with lots of squealing. Struggling, he got it level and pressed it flush with the console. Deep in the bowels of the ship, something groaned.

  "Is it supposed to do that?" asked Hal.

  A vibration rattled the console and the groaning built up to a howling roar. Suddenly, there was a loud bang and the flight deck was plunged into darkness.

  "Jump complete, right?"

  "I think so," said Clunk. "Computer?"

  There was no reply.

  "Let me interface with the console and read the log," suggested Clunk. There was a metallic scrape, then silence.

  "What did you find?"

  "We entered hyperspace successfully."

  "But?"

  "You don't want to know."

  "I do."

  "No you don't."

  "Why don't you tell me, and then I'll decide whether I want to know or not."

  There was a short silence. "Very well. I have some good news, and I have some bad news."

  "Bad news first. It gives me something to look forward to."

  "We entered hyperspace, but we didn't emerge at the other end."

  "Oh great. And what's the good news?"


  "I think I just found the green pencil."

  Chapter 18

  Jasmin's expression didn't change as she watched the Phantom vanish from her screen. The vessel hadn't altered course to follow her, but then, according to the Navcom it didn't have the range anyway. The problem was, if both ships were ultimately going to Jordia, her subterfuge would be useless without an additional twist. "Navcom, Mr Spacejock asked me to do something else to put off the pursuers."

  "What's that?"

  "You're to change the name of the ship. Once we turn for Jordia he wants you to become the Vengeance."

  "Did Clunk approve that?"

  "What's he got to do with it? It's Spacejock's ship, isn't it?"

  "In theory."

  "Then it's his right to change the name. And I wish you'd stop questioning his orders."

  "I'm sorry. I just find the situation a little confusing."

  "I'm not surprised," said Jasmin, who was struggling to keep up herself. "When you see Hal he'll explain everything."

  "That doesn't usually help," murmured the Navcom. "Incidentally, we're positioned for the first jump."

  "Go ahead."

  There was a barely perceptible shake, and the Volante reappeared further across the star map. "Jump complete. En route to second jump point."

  "Just a minute, where's the Phantom?" Jasmin pointed at the screen. "They didn't reappear."

  "Unknown."

  "Could they have performed a star jump?"

  "Alpha II class vessels don't have that capability."

  "That only leaves a cloaking device."

  "Only the military has those."

  "They come up on the black market from time to time," said Jasmin. "They're hideously expensive, though." She looked thoughtful. Could it be the Cathuan government chasing her? Still, it made no difference. Cloaked or not, the Phantom couldn't possibly catch her.

  *

  Hal paced the Phantom's narrow flight deck while Clunk examined the ship's computer for any information about their predicament. Finally, the robot leaned against the console, which shifted under his weight. "Normally, a hyperdrive motor charges up and launches you into N-space. If everything works, you emerge instantly at your intended destination. However, the hyperdrive aboard this ship is not as quick as the modern kind. After expending its charge getting the ship into hyperspace, it then has to recharge for the exit."

 

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