Space Team: Planet of the Japes

by Barry J. Hutchison

  “OK, good thinking,” said Cal. “Now, let’s figure out where the fonk we are, then we can—”

  There was a click and the room was flooded with bright, brilliant, blinding light.

  “Shizz!” Loren spat.

  “Fonk. I’m blind,” gasped Cal, although this – not entirely unusually for him – was a wild exaggeration.

  Once his retinas had stopped burning, he blinked away a pool of tears to find Splurt standing below a light switch, looking ever so slightly guilty.

  “Maybe some warning next time,” Cal suggested, and Splurt wobbled in what Cal took to be an apology.

  With the lights on, Cal could see they were inside what seemed to be a large walk-in freezer with smooth metal walls and several racks of industrial shelves, all empty. It wasn’t cold, so either the room wasn’t a freezer at all, or it was currently switched off. Another thud from below distracted him from thinking about it too much.

  The music tinkled. The giggling giggled. And yet, with the lights on, the fear of the evil clown-thing had already started to lose its edge.

  Was Cal looking forward to facing the thing? No. God, no.

  But he was surrounded by a cyborg, a wolf-woman, a crazy-good martial artist and, perhaps most importantly, an apparently indestructible shapeshifter. If Splurt could stamp half a dozen space bears into a thin gruel without breaking a sweat, then he could handle one malfunctioning clown-bot. Or clone. Or whatever it was.

  Taking Dave by the arm, he guided him away from the hatch. “Want to see something cool?” Cal asked.

  Dave shot a wary glance to the hatch as it was raised a full two inches. Miz stamped a foot down on it, forcing it back into place.

  “Fonking quit it,” she snarled. The only response was a high, child-like laugh.

  “Uh… now?” Dave asked.

  “Trust me. It’s going to be awesome,” Cal said. He gestured for Splurt to get closer to the hatch. Splurt’s wide eyes gazed at him for a few moments until he figured out what he was supposed to do. He scampered over on his stumpy legs, then looked to Cal for confirmation.

  “Perfect!” Cal told him. “OK, Miz, Mech, jump clear when I say.”

  “What?!” Dave gasped. “You can’t! It’ll get in!”

  “Relax,” said Cal. “It’s all in hand. Have you ever seen The Golden Girls?”

  Dave’s brow crinkled. “Huh?”

  “The Golden Girls. The sitcom,” said Cal. “Remember Dorothy?”

  “What? Yes. Yes, I’ve… I just… What’s that got to do with anything?”

  Cal’s grin threatened to split his head all the way open. “You have? That’s awesome! Finally, someone who’ll appreciate this.”

  Loren had backed up against the opposite wall, her fists raised, ready for whatever might emerge through the hatch. Splurt rocked idly on his leg-stumps, his stubby hands behind his back.

  “You sure about this, man?” Mech asked.

  Cal shrugged. “It’s either this or you two stay there all day.”

  “No thanks,” Miz muttered. Folding her arms, she walked away from the hatch and leaned against one of the shelves, already looking bored.

  Mech stepped aside, and the next impact threw the hatch all the way open on its hinges. The top hit the floor with a bang, and Cal rubbed his hands together in delight.

  “OK, buddy,” he said, pointing to the hatch just as something blue and curly began to rise through the gap. “Dorothy the shizz out of that thing!”

  Splurt planted his feet and clenched his fingerless fists. Just beyond him, the head of the space clown was all the way through the hatch, teetering atop a long, snake-like neck as its purple-ringed eyes flitted hungrily over the occupants of the room.

  A white-painted hand emerged and slapped down onto the floor in front of Splurt. A pointed black tongue slithered from between the clown’s ruby-red lips, and flicked lazily across its ragged stumps of teeth.

  Icy fingers of fear gripped Cal’s lower intestine and squeezed. Holy shizz, this thing was worse than he thought. Thank fonk Splurt was there to deal with it.

  The little guy lifted his arms.

  Cal nudged Dave. “Here we go,” he whispered.

  Splurt raised himself up onto what would have been his tiptoes, if his feet hadn’t been featureless round stumps.

  “It’s uncanny. Seriously,” said Cal. “Just wait. You won’t believe this.”

  Splurt lowered his arms and looked down at the stubby ends.

  “Any second,” Cal said. “Keep watching.”

  Splurt turned back to Cal, his eyes wider than Cal had ever seen them. He shrugged, then a scything blow from the clown-thing sent him sailing across the room and smashing through a stack of shelves.

  Cal gaped at the wreckage, and the little green figure tangled up inside it. Behind him, he heard Dave swallow nervously. “Uh, which one’s Dorothy again?” Dave whispered.

  “Leave this thing to me,” Miz spat, pouncing at the clown, her claws out and ready. All five feet of its neck had made it through the gap in the floor, and its chest and shoulders were following behind. It wore a garish purple top that shone as if made of liquid metal. Stray threads hung from the front, suggesting there had once been pom-pom buttons there, but they were long gone now.

  With its head wobbling atop its long, thin neck, the thing looked like some sort of sea serpent, albeit one painted to look like a rough approximation of a clown, and wearing a tightly curled blue wig.

  It giggled as its head swung down, its neck slamming into Miz, mid-leap, and smashing her into Mech. To stop Miz being crushed against his metal frame, Mech had no choice but to roll with the impact. They both went down hard, and Miz was preparing to voice her displeasure about the whole situation when the clown-thing’s hand caught her by the tail.

  She yipped in pain as she was dragged towards the hatch, her claws tearing grooves in the floor. The clown sunk down through the hole, retreating into the tunnel. Only three feet of its neck were visible now.

  Now two.

  Now one.

  The whole thing seemed to be happening in two speeds at once. Cal could see every one of the different expressions passing across Miz’s face – anger, rage, a different kind of rage, then shock, then fear – and yet both her and the clown were flailing blurs of speed.

  Cal was frozen to the spot. He could say nothing, do nothing, just watch as Miz was torn across the floor.

  Only the clown-thing’s head and one arm stuck up through the hatch now. Its giggle was a silky rustle as it pulled Miz closer and closer to the hole. One final tug and she’d be gone.

  “Get off me!” Miz growled. She tried to kick at the thing’s hand, but her feet couldn’t find it. “I mean it, let me go!”

  The clown’s mouth opened, showing off that tongue and those teeth again. It laughed, louder this time, more violently – a sickening shriek that promised nothing but bad things.

  Then it gagged as a length of broken shelving pierced the back of its skull and emerged with a schlop through one of its eye sockets.

  “Jesus Christ!” Cal barked, finally finding his voice.

  Yellow goo fountained from the wound, spraying Miz, Cal, Dave and Mech, but falling a little short of the shelving unit where Splurt was still buried. The clown thrashed, but only for a split-second, and then its fingers went limp on Mizette’s tail and it fell with a thonk through the hatch.

  Loren was revealed behind it, a spray of yellow on her face, another piece of broken shelving clutched in front of her like a spear. She glanced down into the tunnel below, then hooked her foot under the hatch and flipped it closed.

  Miz stood up, flicking some of the stringier, more rubbery chunks of goo off her fur. She scowled down her snout in Loren’s direction. “I hope you don’t expect me to, like, thank you.”

  “Expect it? No,” said Loren. “I mean, it’d be nice, but—”

  “Whatever,” said Miz. She started to turn, but then stopped. An almost imperceptible nod passed be
tween her and Loren, then Cal pushed past them as he rushed over to the partially-toppled shelving unit.

  “Splurt? Splurt, buddy? Speak to me!” Cal said, dropping to his knees and peering into the wreckage. “I mean, not speak, I guess. Unless you want to start now, obviously. But just…”

  He turned to Mech and shouted. “Someone give me a hand here!”

  A blobby green arm reached out from inside the tangle of metal, and gripped Cal’s wrist.

  “Oh, thank God,” Cal whispered. He held onto Splurt with both hands as Mech, Loren, Miz and Dave pushed, pulled and prized the debris apart.

  Splurt slid out and into Cal’s arms. “I got you, buddy. I got you,” Cal said, pulling the little guy in against his chest. Splurt’s hands went around Cal’s neck, and the others watched in slightly awkward silence as man and blob hugged it out.

  “What the hell happened?” Cal asked, once they’d separated. “Why didn’t you change?”

  Splurt held his fingerless hands up in front of him, studied them both, then shrugged.

  “You can change, right?” Cal said.

  Splurt’s squidgy brow furrowed in concentration. His cheeks, while still green, took on the faintest suggestion of red.

  And then it passed, and his whole body seemed to sag in defeat. He shrugged again, but this time followed it up with a sad little shake of his head.

  “You can’t?” Cal gasped. He turned to the others. “He can’t change. Splurt can’t change!”

  “Why?” asked Loren. “What does it mean?”

  “It means we’re totally going to die,” Cal said. “We should get off this planet right now, before…” He gestured towards the hatch while his increasingly panic-stricken brain tried to come up with a suitably devastating insult. It failed. “Clowny McClown-Clown, or one of his buddies come looking for us.”

  “But why can’t he change?” Mech asked. “Is he sick?”

  “The dampening field,” said Dave.

  Cal and the others turned to look at him, at least three of them having completely forgotten he was even there. He shrunk back a little under the combined force of their gazes. “Originally, it could only stop guns, but there were guests with… abilities. You know, palm blasts, laser vision, that sort of thing. They extended the dampening field to block those, too.”

  “You think it’s affecting Splurt?” Cal asked.

  Dave held up his hands. “Hey, I don’t know. I don’t know what he was like before, or whatever, but it’s possible. If he’s got an ability that no longer works, the dampening field is as likely a culprit as anything else.”

  “So, as long as we’re here, Splurt can’t shapeshift?” said Loren. “Like, not at all?”

  “Don’t look like it,” Mech said.

  “What about his flag?” asked Miz.

  Cal glanced at the flag sticking out through the top of Splurt’s Funworld hat. “What about it?”

  “He shapeshifted that. It was in his hand, and now it’s in his head.”

  “I’d say it’s more on his head, rather than in,” Cal corrected.

  Miz scowled at him and he quickly smiled. “Which I appreciate isn’t your point.”

  “She’s right,” said Loren. “The flag was in his hand earlier. I watched him, you know, shift it. I mean, it looked more difficult than usual, but he did it.”

  “OK. So maybe he’s not completely useless,” said Cal. He shot Splurt an apologetic look. “I mean that in the most complimentary possible way.”

  “And if it is the dampening field, then chances are it isn’t permanent,” Loren added.

  “Hear that, buddy? You’re going to be just fine,” said Cal.

  “I mean, I don’t really have anything to base that on—”

  “Juuuuuust fine,” Cal repeated, loud enough to drown out the rest of Loren’s sentence.

  “Well,” said Kevin from the speaker in Mech’s arm. “That all sounded rather exciting.”

  “Thanks again for drawing that thing’s attention,” Cal said. “What did you want, anyway?”

  Kevin hesitated. “Do you know… you’ll laugh at this, sir. I can’t actually remember!”

  Cal bit his lip and mimed punching Mech’s arm. “Ha! Really?” he said, forcing some lightness into his voice. “Well isn’t that… hilarious?”

  “I’ll leave you to it,” said Kevin. “Enjoy.”

  “Wait. What about the analysis?” Mech asked.

  Silence.

  “Analysis?”

  Mech raised his eyes to the ceiling. He, too, mimed punching his arm. “Yeah. The analysis on the data.”

  “Data, sir?”

  “From my head!”

  “Oh, that analysis.”

  Mech waited for more information to be forthcoming. It wasn’t.

  “Did you do it?” he asked.

  “Yes, sir.”

  Another few moments of painful silence passed.

  “And?!”

  “Oh! Wait! The analysis!” Kevin chimed. “That’s why I was calling you. I found something.”

  “Was it Mech’s subconscious mind?” Cal asked. “Am I in there? What does he think of me? Tell me honestly. Unless it’s mean, in which case lie.”

  “Shut the fonk up,” Mech barked.

  “I found co-ordinates. Planetary co-ordinates, I mean, for down there,” Kevin announced. “Transmitting them now. From what I can gather, they seem to point to something hidden near the planet’s core.”

  “Something like what?” Mech asked.

  “I’m afraid I can’t say, sir. The data didn’t fully download, and what I did get was either corrupted, encrypted or both. It appears to be something of great importance and value, however.”

  “Value?” said Cal, his ears pricking up. “What kind of value?”

  “Again, I can’t really say,” Kevin replied. “Although I did find reference to a sum of money in the region of one hundred million credits.”

  Miz stopped picking gunk out of her fur. Loren’s jaw dropped. Even Mech’s face – what little there was of it – brightened.

  “A hundred million credits?” said Cal. He glanced at the others. “That’s a lot, right?”

  “No, man, that’s a lot of a lot,” said Mech. “That’s like, a lot squared.”

  “You could buy a planet with that,” Loren said. “I mean, it’d be a fixer-upper, but still.” She whistled through her teeth. “A hundred million credits.”

  “And it’s here?” asked Miz. “It’s on this dump?”

  “As I say, the information isn’t easy to decipher, but… yes,” said Kevin. “Yes, it seems to be. The data I sent to Master Mech contains all the information I have.”

  Mech spun on his heels to face Dave. “Hey. Earth guy,” he said.

  Dave tried not to look terrified as Mech loomed over him. It didn’t really work. “Uh, yeah?”

  “You want to be on the team? Find us a damn computer terminal, right fonking now!”

  CHAPTER TWELVE

  Cal and the others stood around a circular table, looking down at the holographic park map currently rising up from its surface. Splurt stretched up as high as he could, but only his eyes were visible above the tabletop. The light from the map made them glisten and shine.

  Six times. That was how often Cal had tried to touch the shimmering holograms, proclaiming, “But it looks so real,” after each failed attempt.

  He tried a seventh time, just to be sure.

  “Will you please stop doing that?” Mech grunted. “You can’t touch it. We’ve established that.”

  “But it looks—”

  “So real,” said Loren. “Yes. We get it. But it isn’t.”

  She and Mech both fixed Cal with stern glares, as if daring him to try again, then Mech nodded to Dave. “Continue.”

  They had emerged from the freezer into an equally abandoned kitchen area, where most of the equipment had been covered by tarp. Finding a terminal had involved nothing more complicated than kicking down the door to the
manager’s office and powering the tabletop terminal on.

  “Right. Yes. Right,” said Dave. He indicated a circle in the middle of the map. There were two more concentric circles around it, making the map look a bit like a shooting range target. A line ran down from the top to the bottom, splitting the map in half, although it stopped at the edges of the inner circle. “So, this is us. We’re here.”

  “This is the restaurant?” said Cal, indicating the circle. “Is it really that big?”

  Dave hesitated. “No, this is the area of the park we’re in. Those are the rides, that’s the drop pod.”

  “Gotcha,” said Cal. He leaned in closer. “So, where’s this place?”

  Dave indicated a cube-shaped bump on the map. “Uh… there.”

  “Cool,” said Cal.

  He touched the cube-shaped bump, then shook his head in wonder. “It looks so real.”

  “Right,” Dave agreed. He indicated the four other lined-off sections of the outer rings. “So, anyway, these are the different areas of the park that used to be open to the public. We’re in the Hub. That was always the family friendly area. The others? They were adults only.”

  “Oh really?” said Cal, raising an eyebrow. “Tell me more.”

  “People came to Funworld for three things. Wholesome family fun, sex, and violence,” Dave said. “The Hub was where you found the first, sex was to the West, violence to the East. Further out you went, the more, uh, extreme it became.”

  “So which part did you meet your wife in?” Miz wondered.

  Dave blushed, just slightly. “Ha! Here in the Hub. Honest.”

  “But those other areas are all closed off now?” Loren asked.

  “Right,” said Dave. “When the bio-bots went rogue, they walled them in. Each of these lines is a wall, hundreds of feet high. Nothing gets in or out.”

  “Uh, the ache in my tail begs to differ,” Miz said.

  “Right, but we don’t know if that came through the wall, or if it was just wandering down here for whatever reason. Maybe the Hub bots have started to malfunction, too.”

  “This is all very interesting,” said Mech. “But how do we get to the money?”

  “The co-ordinates you gave me, they’re deep below the surface,” Dave said. “It’s probably some kind of storage, maybe a research and development area, I don’t know. Either way, it’s only accessible from the dark side of the planet. The staff only area. Funworld is tidally locked, so that whole area never sees daylight.”