Hal Spacejock 4: No Free Lunch

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Hal Spacejock 4: No Free Lunch Page 9

by Simon Haynes


  ‘Sounds like she did a runner.’

  ‘I don’t think it was enough money for that. She’ll probably turn up by herself, but in the meantime I’m getting a free trip out of it.’

  ‘Somewhere local?’

  ‘No, I’m going to another planet!’

  Hal smiled at the excitement in Walsh’s eyes. To him planets were a necessary evil, not something to look forward to, and it was refreshing to see her so enthusiastic. ‘That’s great news! I’m sure you’ll love it.’

  ‘I’ll be taking the Forzen ferry. Do you think a window seat is best, or would the aisle be better?’

  ‘Well, I —’

  ‘There’s even a free magazine, and when I get to Forzen there’ll be a hotel with room service and everything.’

  Hal lowered his mug. ‘Did you say Forzen?’

  ‘Yes, the mining planet.’

  ‘But that’s where Clunk and I are going! We’re collecting a load of gear for Morgan!’

  ‘Really? When are you leaving?’

  ‘This afternoon.’ Hal had a flash of inspiration. ‘Why don’t you come with us?’

  Walsh looked surprised. ‘What, on your ship?’

  ‘No, we’ll tow you behind on a rope.’ Hal grinned as Walsh pulled a face. ‘We don’t have the entertainment and the window seat and all that stuff, but you’ll have your own cabin and the AutoChef serves up some pretty decent food if you ask it nicely.’ He stopped as he saw Walsh’s doubtful expression. ‘What is it?’

  ‘Hal, it’d be really great but I don’t think the Peace Force allows that kind of thing. They’re very strict on travel allowances.’

  ‘You don’t have to pay! It’s my treat.’

  ‘But —’

  ‘Come on, it’ll be great! I’ll even let you fly a bit.’

  ‘Really?’

  ‘Sure, anyone can do it. I mean, it’s not like we’re going to hit anything out in space, is it? Anyway, passenger liners are the pits. Hours strapped into a tiny little seat, warmed-up leftovers, surly cabin staff … the only half-decent thing is the inflight magazine, and you can buy those without going near a spaceship. Really, it’s nothing like the brochures.’

  Walsh looked down at her cup, toying with the handle. Then she looked up at Hal and smiled. ‘All right, you’re on.’

  ‘Great! I’ll tell Clunk to make up a cabin.’

  ‘I’ll need to fetch a few things.’

  ‘Come to the ship as soon as you’re ready. I’ll give you the full tour - engines, flight deck, the lot.’

  Walsh finished her coffee, and after seeing her off Hal drained his own mug and left for the Volante. He decided he wouldn’t mention Walsh to Clunk until the last possible moment, since the robot had some funny ideas about carrying passengers. Sure, there’d been one or two hijackings in the past, but Harriet Walsh was Peace Force. How could an officer of the law cause them any trouble?

  * * *

  A few minutes later Hal met Clunk at the dockyard gates, which were still closed. If Clunk noticed Hal’s air of suppressed excitement he didn’t remark on it, most likely assuming it was caffeine-related.

  ‘I can’t wait to get aboard the Volante,’ said Hal. ‘A nice shower, change of clothes … perfect.’

  Dead on time the gates swung open, admitting them to Honest Bob’s yard. Morning sun glinted off the row of hangars as Hal and Clunk strolled by, and bustling workers hurried back and forth on errands.

  ‘Personally, I’m looking forward to a good recharge,’ said Clunk. ‘Then I’ll check the ship’s systems to ensure nothing has been tampered with overnight.’

  Hal was bursting with impatience. He wanted to get the ship ready, confirm the job details with Morgan and then enjoy Clunk’s reaction when he revealed the surprise news that Harriet Walsh would be coming with them to Forzen. Clunk would make a fuss of course, but that was half the fun.

  They rounded the last hangar and then stopped dead at the sight which met their eyes. The Volante had vanished, and in its place was the lower half of a spaceship hull. The entire upper section was missing, and the remainder looked like half an eggshell, with a broken, ragged edge.

  ‘I didn’t know they built ships here,’ said Hal, watching a group of workers struggling under the weight of a glossy black cabinet.

  ‘They don’t.’

  Hal saw a gantry crane rumble along the length of the busy construction area, casting a moving shadow. It shuddered to a halt and lowered a set of slings, and after a moment or two began to whine and clatter as it strained to lift its load from within the hull. ‘If they’re not building it, what are they doing?’

  ‘It’s a wrecking operation. They strip the parts and materials from old ships, either for resale or for use as spares. I understand it’s a very lucrative business.’

  Hal nodded, then looked around. ‘I don’t see the Volante anywhere. Reckon they’ve finished with her?’

  Clunk gasped, and when Hal followed the robot’s gaze he understood why. The crane was slowly lifting a huge tailfin from the remains of the spaceship, and clearly visible across the base of the fin was a single word: Volante.

  Chapter 10

  ‘That is not my ship,’ whispered Hal, as he gazed at the stripped hull. ‘That’s not the Volante. It can’t be.’

  Clunk broke into a run and Hal raced after him, his mind churning as his boots pounded the hard ground. It was a trick, a scam of some kind. Offer a free wash and strip the vessel, selling the parts for cash. As for the hapless pilots … maybe they were abducted and disposed of?

  Several workers turned to stare as Hal and Clunk came charging towards them, and a large red-faced man raised his metal clipboard defensively. ‘Hey, you’re not supposed to —’

  Hal yanked the clipboard out of his hands and broke it over his knee, throwing the pieces aside. Then he grabbed a fistful of Honest Bob’s overalls and hauled him up until their noses were almost touching. ‘My ship. Explain.’

  ‘Get your hands off me,’ snapped Bob, struggling to break free. ‘I’ll have you for assault.’

  ‘And I’ll have you for theft and fraud,’ hissed Hal. He pointed a shaking finger at the Volante. ‘Wash and wax, you said!’

  ‘Put him down Mr Spacejock,’ said Clunk. ‘We’ll talk about this calmly and rationally.’

  Hal let go, and Clunk grabbed Honest Bob by the throat, yanking him off his feet. ‘WHAT HAVE YOU DONE TO MY SHIP, YOU MISERABLE EXCUSE FOR A HUMAN BEING?’ he blasted at full volume. ‘I’M GOING TO TEAR YOUR HEAD OFF AND SUCK YOUR GUTS THROUGH THE HOLE!’

  As he started yelling, workers advanced on them, armed with makeshift weapons. Things were going to get ugly, and they were clearly outnumbered. ‘Clunk,’ said Hal, shaking the robot’s shoulder. ‘Calmly and rationally, right?’

  Clunk glanced at the workers, then released the supervisor. ‘Explain.’

  ‘We’re doing a rebuild,’ said Bob, smoothing his crumpled overalls. ‘As requested.’

  ‘You what?’ said Hal.

  ‘A ground-up rebuild. We got your revised instructions last night, and we’ve been working flat out ever since.’

  ‘What revised instructions?’

  ‘The refit, to turn your L model into the XL. New wiring, a twenty thousand volume library, a home theatre set-up, a robot charging station and a Pleasurematic 2000.’

  ‘But we didn’t ask for any of that!’

  ‘Hey, the order came through and we acted on it. Here at Honest Bob’s the customer is king.’

  ‘Show me a signature.’

  ‘I’ve got the order on my computer. Wait here and I’ll fetch it.’

  Hal and Clunk exchanged a worried glance as Honest Bob hurried away. ‘Do you think they’re scamming us?’ asked Hal, keeping his voice down.

  ‘I don’t know.’

  ‘So what’s this about instructions coming in overnight?’

  ‘Let me see.’ Clunk froze for a moment, then looked thoughtful. ‘Interesting.’

  ‘What
?’

  ‘They did get instructions, but not from us.’

  ‘So who -‘

  ‘Shh. Leave this to me.’

  Several minutes later, Bob came back, and he didn’t look happy. ‘I’m really sorry, Mr Spacejock. I definitely saw the order last night, but I just checked everywhere on the computer and it’s not there. I-I don’t know what happened.’

  ‘You stuffed up, that’s what.’

  ‘It looks like it. And you can be sure I’ll get to the bottom of it. However, I’m not called Honest Bob for nothing. We’re not one of those dodgy fly-by-night companies —’

  ‘You’re not?’ said Clunk in surprise.

  ‘No! I have a top reputation and word of mouth is vital to my business. If news of this little cock-up gets into the wrong hands I could be ruined.’ He looked hopeful. ‘If we put your ship back together, throw in a few extras, will you keep quiet about this mess?’

  ‘Do we get the home theatre?’ asked Hal.

  ‘Not that, but I have some new parts left over from another upgrade. Military spec, very nice. And you can keep the features we’ve already unlocked.’

  ‘No charge?’

  ‘Absolutely. It’s the least we can do.’

  ‘How long will it take?’

  ‘A day or two, I guess. Bit harder than taking it apart.’

  ‘But —’

  ‘Don’t worry, Mr Spacejock.’ Honest Bob gave him a reassuring smile. ‘Your ship will be better than new.’

  ‘It was new before you started.’

  Bob shook his head. ‘They’re obsolete before they leave the factory. It takes years to design a ship, and once they start building it’s too late to incorporate the latest designs. Computers, particularly.’

  ‘Oh no!’ exclaimed Hal. ‘Clunk, the Navcom!’

  ‘Relax, we took a copy.’ Bob reached into his pocket and took out a slender PDA. ‘See?’

  ‘That’s the Navcom?’ said Hal in surprise.

  ‘Yes, and fully operational. Minus navigation and flight functions, of course.’

  ‘You mean it talks?’ Hal took the PDA gingerly. The Navcom wasn’t going to be happy about the Volante, and he didn’t fancy an ear bashing. Still, it could have been worse … Bob could have downloaded her into a killer robot. ‘Clunk, hang on to the Navcom will you?’ he said, holding it out.

  ‘Uh-uh,’ said Clunk, backing away.

  ‘Nice to feel wanted,’ said a tinny voice. ‘Why don’t you both fight to see who doesn’t have to carry me around?’

  ‘Is that you, Navcom?’ said Hal.

  ‘You think there’s room for anyone else in here?’ said the PDA sourly.

  Hal offered the Navcom to Clunk, but the robot crossed his arms. ‘I’m not supposed to put myself in danger. It’s the Laws.’

  ‘What danger? It’s a squeaky voice in a glorified commset.’

  ‘I heard that,’ said the Navcom.

  ‘With good hearing,’ added Hal.

  ‘It’s not the voice, it’s the multichannel wi-fi connection. It’ll play havoc with my circuits.’

  ‘I’ll play havoc with your circuits if you don’t take it.’

  ‘You’re the majority owner of the Volante. I think you should assume responsibility.’

  ‘Yeah, but I’m always losing things. Here.’ Hal tossed the PDA to the robot, who just uncrossed his arms in time to catch it.

  ‘Gentlemen, there’s no need to argue.’ Bob reached into his pocket and took out a second PDA. ‘See? I made another one.’

  For a moment Hal considered asking Clunk to take both of them, but the look on the robot’s face killed that idea. Resigned to the inevitable, he took the second PDA. ‘Hi Navcom,’ he said. ‘How’s it going?’

  ‘I have a headache and one of my chips is loose. And when they said it was time to split I expected something quite different!’

  ‘They don’t want us,’ said the other PDA. ‘They’re all friendly and polite when it comes to flying the ship, but stick us in some useless gadget and they can’t wait to get rid of us.’

  ‘You’ve got it all wrong,’ said Hal. ‘I just think Clunk’s more in tune with your electronic nature. And he’s just worried I’ll sell him for scrap if he doesn’t look after you both.’

  ‘And Mr Spacejock is worried I might tell Harriet Walsh about the time Katy the amorous robot cornered him in the —’

  ‘Hey, that’s not fair!’ protested Hal. ‘You built that thing to stalk me, and if I hadn’t fobbed her off on that sleazy politician she’d still be chasing me.’

  ‘Oh, I’m sure she is,’ said Clunk, with some relish. ‘They never give up, you know. Somewhere out there, Katy is scanning Galnet for your likeness, seeking her one true love so she can —’

  ‘Excuse me,’ said the Navcom. ‘We’re discussing my problems here.’

  ‘Speaking of problems,’ said Bob, who’d been watching the exchange in growing alarm. ‘I have to supervise the reconstruction of your ship, so I’ll just leave you to it.’ He turned and beat a hasty retreat.

  ‘Isn’t it good news about all the upgrades?’ said Hal’s Navcom.

  ‘Terrific,’ muttered Hal.

  ‘The ship will function so much better with all that modern equipment. I’m really looking forward to it.’

  ‘Me too,’ said Clunk’s PDA.

  ‘Do you have any idea how it happened?’ asked Clunk. ‘According to the men, someone faked a purchase order.’

  ‘No idea,’ said Hal’s PDA. ‘Still, every cloud has a silver lining.’

  Hal dropped the Navcom into his pocket, where it continued to enthuse about new surface finishes for the flight console, albeit in a somewhat muffled voice.

  ‘Isn’t there an off switch?’ whispered Hal.

  Clunk held his PDA up. ‘You see these sliders? Put the red one in, pull the white one out. Hold the power button and —’ He shook the talking commset and the little screen went out.

  ‘Okey dokey,’ said Hal. ‘Mind you, I preferred it when she was stuck in the ship.’

  ‘Look on the bright side, Mr Spacejock. At least you now have something impressive in your trousers.’

  ‘Very funny.’ Hal nodded towards the ship. ‘So, who’s responsible for that mess?

  Clunk lowered his voice. ‘I checked their computer, and they did receive an order for the upgrades. What’s more, you signed it.’

  ‘I didn’t!’ protested Hal. ‘Not even by accident, Clunk. I haven’t signed anything for days!’

  ‘Oh, I know that. The timing was all wrong, too. The order was submitted last night, while you were safely asleep in that old hull.’

  ‘It’s just as well they lost the bloody order,’ said Hal. ‘Genuine or not, we’d have been sunk.’

  ‘They didn’t lose anything.’

  ‘But he said —’

  Clunk’s lips twisted. ‘Fortunately, their network isn’t very secure.’

  Hal stared. ‘You hacked in and deleted it?’

  ‘I would never contemplate such an illegal and immoral action. I merely renamed the file.’

  ‘What if they find it?’

  ‘I called it Emergency Safety Procedures in the Event of an Earthquake. This region is geologically sound, ergo the file will not be opened.’

  ‘What if they do? What if they search for the content?’

  ‘Unfortunately, while I was renaming the file I somehow triggered a system error. Sadly, it corrupted the contents before I could stop it.’

  ‘Clunk, you’re sneakier than a room full of gym shoes,’ said Hal admiringly. ‘But that still leaves the question: who forged the order?’

  ‘Perhaps it was someone we’ve angered in some way, or someone we let down. Or perhaps someone we overcharged.’

  ‘You couldn’t narrow it down a bit?’

  ‘What about Miss Morgan? She was annoyed with you last night, and I don’t think my efforts with the cutlery improved her temper.’

  ‘No, it wasn’t her. She practically be
gged me to do this job.’ Hal snapped his fingers. ‘Kent Spearman! Who else could it be?’

  ‘To be honest, I don’t think he’d have the technical skills for this. I know he’s underhanded, but —’

  ‘Are you kidding? He’s a known criminal!’

  ‘What about …’ Clunk hesitated. ‘You don’t think Miss Walsh …?’

  ‘What?’

  ‘She obviously likes you,’ continued Clunk with a rush. ‘Maybe this is her way of keeping you here.’

  ‘Don’t be ridiculous. You’ll have her bailing me up and bashing my ankles in next. Anyway, it can’t be Harriet because we’re taking her to Forzen.’

  ‘We are?’

  ‘Yes, I promised to take her aboard the Volante when we …’ Hal’s voice tailed off as realisation dawned. His ship wasn’t going anywhere, and neither was Harriet Walsh.

  * * *

  ‘Bernie, are you there?’ called Walsh. She needed to sort out her equipment for Forzen, and even though she could do it herself she felt it would be a good move to involve the robot.

  ‘I’m always here,’ grumbled Bernie. ‘I can’t even put my head out the front door for a quick breather.’

  ‘You don’t breathe, and you probably couldn’t get through the front door if you tried.’ Walsh saw Bernie’s downcast expression and immediately regretted her sharp tongue. ‘Honestly, it’s nothing special out there. Just a planet full of old people going about their business.’

  ‘So you say.’ Bernie sighed. ‘What did you want me for?’

  ‘Expenses for my trip. I’ll need something to cover meals and accommodation for a couple of days.’

  ‘You get ten credits per day for meals and fifty for accommodation. You must submit all receipts for reconciliation purposes. Any additional expenditure will be deducted from your pay.’

  ‘Ten credits for meals? That won’t buy a sandwich!’

  ‘I’m sorry, that’s the stipulated amount. You’ll just have to make do.’ Bernie turned to a nearby terminal, then hesitated. ‘About the return trip to Forzen. I assume Mr Bigan is looking after your ticket?’

  So much for the passenger ferry, thought Walsh. Thank goodness for Hal. ‘No need. I’m getting a ride with a friend.’

 

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