by Simon Haynes
‘We’ll use your car,’ said Hal. ‘They’ll never catch us in that.’
They ran down the corridor, their footsteps clattering off the walls. The front door was closed but Hal grabbed the secretary’s chair and tossed it through the glass, then followed it with a waste paper bin and several trays. He was just reaching for the computer when Walsh tugged his sleeve. ‘Herringen has a key.’
The buckled doors slid open and they charged out into the cold afternoon air, their breath streaming behind them. Herringen’s car was waiting at the foot of the steps, but the driver’s door was open and the instruments had been smashed in.
‘Bloody Newman!’ growled Hal. ‘He’s thought of everything.’
‘The truck,’ said Walsh quickly. ‘I hid it near the entrance!’
They set off at a run, but Herringen’s breathing got heavier and heavier until he was gasping and wheezing between ragged breaths. ‘Got to stop,’ he said.
Walsh glanced back at the mine. How long did they have?
‘It’s no good,’ rasped Herringen, who’d seen her look. ‘When those things get out, the whole planet is doomed.’
Hal stared at him. ‘For real?’
‘Newman removed their safeguards. They’ll flood out en masse.’ Herringen took a deep breath. ‘The people of Forzen won’t stand a chance.’
‘What can we do about it?’ demanded Hal.
‘We need a programmer,’ Herringen wheezed. ‘Someone who can undo Newman’s code and stop the bugs.’
Hal and Walsh exchanged a glance, each hoping the other had computer expertise they’d yet to reveal. Neither did.
‘What about Clunk?’ said Walsh. ‘If we get to the spaceport they should be able to call him back.’
‘I already called him back, for all the good it did. Kent bloody Spearman must have overridden him.’
‘Surely if you explain how urgent it is -‘
‘I did! I told him to get back here ASAP, top priority. You were missing, and I thought … I was worried that …’ Hal’s voice tailed off. ‘That’s it! The Navcom!’
‘She said she couldn’t stop the bugs.’
‘No, but she can try and reach Clunk!’ Hal dragged out the PDA and made a face as he saw the battery indicator. There was barely enough power for the Navcom to get in a complaint or two, but it was worth a shot. ‘Navcom, can you hear me?’
‘No.’
‘Come on, I need you to get hold of Clunk. It’s urgent!’
‘Very well. I’ll see what … I can do.’
Walsh looked up as thunder rumbled in the distance. ‘Will rain slow the bugs down?’
‘I’m afraid not,’ said Herringen. ‘They’re completely submersible.’
Thunder rumbled again, and Walsh frowned at the heavy skies. ‘A bit of freezing rain might not affect the bugs, but —’ She broke off as a bright star shone through the clouds, clearly visible despite the daylight. Then she realised it was moving, and the thunder was a continuous rumble. Tiny at first, the star became a white triangle, then a recognisable ship.
‘That’s the Tiger,’ said Hal. ‘It’s Clunk! He’s come back!’
‘Are you sure?’
‘Of course I am. I’d recognise that shape anywhere!’ Hal started waving, even though the ship was far overhead and there was no chance he’d be seen.
Walsh realised the ship was heading away from them. ‘Where’s he going?’
‘He’s landing at the spaceport,’ said Hal. Cursing, he raised the PDA. ‘Navcom, listen carefully. Get a message to Clunk. Tell him to land at the mine. We’re at the mine, got it?’
‘Sending trans … trans …’
There was a bloop and the screen went dead. Hal shook the commset, willing it back to life, but the blank screen mocked him. ‘Navcom!’
‘It’s too late,’ cried Herringen. His voice shook, and when they looked round they saw why: a stream of bugs was pouring from the office. The windows shattered and more streams joined those coming through the door, forming a river of polished metal which flowed straight towards them.
Chapter 32
Herringen broke first, turning and running for the gates. Walsh followed and Hal brought up the rear. He lagged behind to give the others a chance to escape, and before long the vicious creatures were right on his heels. Ahead he saw Walsh and Herringen leave the road, vanishing into the trees, and as he drew level with the spot Walsh called to him from the undergrowth.
‘Hal! In here, quick!’
Hal swerved, leapt over a fallen tree and plunged into the bushes. Behind him, there was a noise like a hundred buzz-saws as the bugs set to work on the obstruction. ‘They … can … run,’ puffed Hal, ‘but … they … can’t … fly!’
Walsh grabbed his hand and they ran through the woods together, ducking branches and dodging the undergrowth that threatened to slow them down. Then they found the wheel tracks, and ahead they saw Herringen getting into the truck. The engine started before they reached it, and the vehicle reversed towards them, hurtling backwards at speed. Hal put out a hand to open the door, but the truck kept going, reversing blindly through the forest. Herringen spared Hal and Walsh the briefest of glances as he abandoned them to their fate.
‘You rotten bastard!’ shouted Hal. ‘Come back here!’
The truck vanished, the engine noise receding as it retreated through the forest.
‘Well that’s marvellous,’ said Hal, his voice loud in the stillness. ‘We rescue his sorry arse, and he bails on us.’
‘We can still make a run for it.’
‘They’ll spread out and get us. We’ve had it.’
Walsh squeezed his hand. ‘Never give up, Hal,’ she whispered. ‘There’s always a way.’
‘Yeah, but —’ Hal stopped. In the distance the engine was getting louder again. ‘He’s coming back!’
The noise grew in volume until a thundering roar forced them to cover their ears. ‘That’s not the truck!’ shouted Hal. ‘It’s a ship! It’s Clunk!’
They looked up but the canopy was blocking the sky, and Hal realised Clunk wouldn’t be able to see them either. ‘Come on!’ he shouted, grabbing Walsh’s hand. They ran along the tyre tracks, leaping the crushed bushes and shredded undergrowth Herringen had left in his wake. Overhead, the roar of the ship got louder, then faded, and Hal realised Clunk was trying to spot them from the air before setting down.
They were halfway to the road when Walsh stopped with her hand to her mouth. Ahead, through the trees, masses of glossy bugs were swarming over a large rock.
‘What are they doing?’ muttered Hal. ‘Building a nest?’ He noticed the rock spanned Herringen’s wheel tracks, and when he saw the bumper hanging down he realised the ‘rock’ was actually the remains of the truck. Herringen had ploughed into a tree, and the bugs were doing the rest. ‘Time to go,’ he muttered, tugging Walsh away.
Shocked, they moved on in silence. If Herringen had stopped for them …
Back at the road, they turned and ran for the mine. They could still hear the Tiger circling, and Hal hoped Clunk was keeping a sharp eye out. The bugs would finish their snack soon, and featuring in the second course wasn’t high on his list of priorities.
They reached the shattered offices just as the Tiger roared over, with Clunk waving from the airlock platform. Hal waved back, then beckoned impatiently.
‘Hal!’ said Walsh. ‘They’re coming.’
Hal lowered his gaze and saw the relentless bugs flooding out of the woods. Frantically, he waved at Clunk, gesticulating and pointing. The robot waved back, then disappeared inside.
‘That’s a big help, Clunk,’ muttered Hal, eyeing the oncoming horde. He felt good for one last effort, but Walsh looked exhausted, her face pale and scratched, her hair a matted tangle and her clothes stained with grease and greenery. She looked up at him, and when she managed a small grin Hal took her in his arms and kissed her, suddenly unconcerned about the bugs, the safety of planet Forzen, everything.
The Ti
ger thundered overhead as they clung to each other, the wash from its jets whipping their clothes around and almost knocking them off their feet. Hal opened one eye and saw the ship flaring for a landing on the road … right above the oncoming bugs! He broke free of Walsh and waved frantically, but the Tiger’s landing legs were already extended and it set down dead in the centre of the mass of bugs.
Immediately, the bugs clawed their way up the Tiger’s landing legs, and Hal could only watch in horror as they flowed over the underside of the hull. Spearman’s ship would be torn apart before his eyes!
The passenger ramp extended and Clunk appeared in the airlock. Hal broke into a run, yelling and waving, and the robot smiled and waved back.
‘Take off!’ shouted Hal. ‘Quick!’
Clunk leapt back as a miner bug ran up the ramp towards him. He kicked it away and retreated inside the ship, closing the door with a thump.
Hal skidded to a halt, staring at the bugs attacking the ship in their thousands. It was too late - they’d destroy it for sure.
Suddenly the engines fired, belching white-hot flame. The bugs still on the ground below the ship were vaporised, and as the noise and heat grew they started dropping from the belly, flashed into nothingness before they hit the ground. Slowly, the ship lifted off, but instead of roaring away it hovered in mid-air. Thrusters fired along the top of the hull, driving the Tiger towards the ground, while at the same time the main jets tried to force it into the sky. The noise of the warring forces was incredible, and the resulting fireball engulfed the ship. Now the bugs were dropping by the hundred, plunging to the ground where the extreme heat flayed off their glossy shells, cooked their internals and fried their electronics.
Finally, the engines cut out and the ship settled on the road, crunching thousands of blackened remains under its broad feet. Then everything was still.
Hal grinned at Walsh. ‘Good old Clunk. I said he’d save us!’
‘No,’ said Walsh, her eyes bright. ‘You did!’
‘Hey up, what’s all this?’
Hal and Walsh untangled themselves, and turned to see Spearman and Clunk approaching across the smoking ground. Spearman was stepping gingerly over the blackened shells, while Clunk was looking on with an expression that contained elements of curiosity, happiness, anger and relief … all much of a muchness given his face had the consistency of a plastic chair.
‘Good job, Clunk,’ said Hal, who was standing with one arm around Walsh’s shoulders. ‘That was damn quick thinking, old buddy. The way you fried those little buggers with the jets … inspired. For a while there I thought you’d misread my signals, but I should have known better.’
Clunk looked mystified. ‘Signals?’
‘Yeah. Directing you over the miner bugs so you could frazzle them.’
‘But I thought you were indicating a safe landing site! And what are miner bugs?’
Hal and Walsh exchanged a glance, then laughed aloud.
‘Did you wreck this joint?’ asked Spearman, who was inspecting the damage to the mine offices. He touched the front door, which promptly fell off its hinges. ‘It was like that already,’ he said quickly.
‘How the hell did you convince him to come back?’ Hal asked Clunk.
‘I promised him your share of the cargo fee.’
Hal nodded. ‘Okay.’
‘No arguments?’ called Spearman. ‘No disputes?’
‘It’s all yours,’ said Hal.
‘Good.’ Spearman grinned at Walsh. ‘Fancy a lift home?’
‘Get lost,’ said Walsh.
Spearman looked around at the three of them, shook his head, then turned and strolled towards the Tiger. He climbed the ramp and entered the airlock, closing the door without looking back.
‘Good riddance,’ muttered Hal.
They watched the Tiger lift off, its jets scattering the hollow shells, and when it was gone they set off along the road to the gates, avoiding the charred miner bugs on the way. Hal kept an eye out for stragglers, but the open furnace Clunk had created with the ship’s exhaust had got every last one. He gave the robot a pat on the back. ‘You did well, Clunk. Pulled our chestnuts out of the fire in the nick of time.’
‘My pleasure, although I still can’t believe you let Mr Spearman take all the payment for the cargo job.’
Hal was about to tell Clunk that the cargo was safely aboard the Volante, and that Spearman wouldn’t be earning a cent for the job, but decided it would just complicate things. ‘I’m amazed he came back. What did you do, threaten to break his hair?’
‘Actually, my efforts weren’t the reason. He took a call from a Forzen VIP who was offering big money for an urgent flight to Dismolle. At first Spearman thought it was me pretending to be a client in order to get him to turn around, but eventually the caller convinced him.’ Clunk smiled. ‘I still had to talk him into landing at the mine though, but this time your message came through loud and clear.’
‘Thank you Navcom,’ said Hal. ‘So, tell me about the VIP. How much did they offer?’
‘I believe the sum was ten thousand credits.’
Hal almost choked. ‘Ten grand!’
‘Yes, and they’re going to pump out his fuel tanks and refill them. All part of the deal.’
‘Will that take long, do you think?’ asked Hal casually. ‘Only the Volante is waiting at the spaceport, and if we get in touch with this passenger ourselves …’
‘You’re not thinking of stealing them away? Mr Spearman just saved your life!’
‘I suppose you’re right,’ said Hal, glad he hadn’t confessed to nicking the cargo.
Walsh glanced at him. ‘It doesn’t seem fair Spearman should get the cargo job and the passenger.’
‘This is the freight business,’ said Clunk. ‘Nothing’s fair.’
Hal slowed as they passed the tyre tracks leading into the woods. ‘We’ll have to tell someone about Herringen.’
‘Who’s that?’ asked Clunk.
‘The mine boss.’
‘What happened? Is he hurt?’
‘Well, you know how tuna comes in tin cans …’ Hal stopped as Walsh nudged him. ‘Hey, when someone leaves me to die they deserve all they get.’
‘He just panicked, Hal.’
Hal remembered the determined look on Herringen’s face. Panic? Not likely. ‘Yeah, I guess you’re right,’ he said, thus stumbling across the vital component in any relationship - agreeing with every word the other party says. Then he turned to more important matters. ‘So this passenger, the one paying ten grand …’
Clunk shrugged. ‘Spearman said he was an executive. Name of Oldman.’
‘Must be rich to throw that kind of money around.‘
‘Wait a minute!’ Walsh grabbed his arm. ‘Newman said he had a flight to catch, but surely he’d be too smart to use his own name.‘
‘But not smart enough to pick a really good one.’ Hal turned to Clunk. ‘Oldman has to be Newman, and that’s the bastard behind everything. He’s the villain!’
‘We have to warn Mr Spearman,’ said Walsh quickly. ‘He could be in real danger.’
‘Pity about that.’ Hal saw Walsh’s expression. ‘Okay, okay. I’m on it.’ He took out his PDA but now it was completely dead, and when Clunk checked his, it was also drained. ‘The car had a mapping screen in the dashboard,’ said Hal. ‘Can you do something with that?’
‘I may be able to crack it,’ said Clunk. ‘You drive and I’ll work on it.’
‘That could be a problem,’ said Hal, as they passed through the gates. He pointed out the car, which was jammed under the billboard. ‘It’s stuck fast.’
Clunk eyed the sign, which stood on two wooden legs with angled bracers. After inspecting the legs, he stood over one of the bracers and stamped his foot down in the middle, snapping it in two. Then he broke the second one, clambered onto the car’s roof and pushed in the middle of the sign. There was a creak as the posts gave way, and then the sign toppled over, freeing the car.
> They piled in and Clunk had the screen free of the dashboard before Hal had even backed into the road. He poked and prodded the connections, and as they raced towards the spaceport Clunk worked every trick in his considerable arsenal. Walsh sat in the back, watching over his shoulder.
‘I’ve got an idea,’ said Hal.
‘Go on.’
‘Well, Spearman is supposed to be taking Newman to Dismolle, right? Why don’t we just let him go?’
‘May I point out a major flaw in this idea of yours?’
‘Me too,’ said Walsh.
‘Let me finish,’ said Hal. ‘If we let Newman go, we can follow in the Volante, overtake the Tiger, and set up a reception committee on Dismolle. Newman lands, and pow!’ Hal rubbed the back of his head. ‘I owe him a bruise or two.’
‘How do you know they’re going to Dismolle?’ asked Walsh.
‘That’s what he told Spearman.’
‘And you don’t think Newman is capable of hijacking the ship? If he pulls a gun they could end up anywhere.’
Hal turned to Clunk. ‘She’s good, isn’t she? Thinks just like a criminal.’
‘I’m not letting my suspect get away,’ said Walsh firmly.
Clunk indicated the comms unit. ‘If I can get through to Mr Spearman on this, I’ll ask him to hold Newman up.’
‘You expect him to throw away ten grand?’ Hal snorted. ‘As soon as Newman’s aboard Spearman will take off so fast you’d think he was shot out of a gun.’
‘I think you’re wrong. I believe Mr Spearman will do the right thing when he understands what’s at stake.’
‘He’s a freelance pilot, Clunk.’
‘Even so.’ Clunk made one final adjustment and replaced the comms unit, but when he switched the device on there was a loud fizz. ‘Oh dear. An anti-tamper device.’
Hal put his window down to let the smoke out. ‘That worked well.’
‘Oh well, now that it’s ruined …’ Clunk yanked the unit right out of the dash, pulled the wires off the back and attached them to his PDA. There was a beep as the device came alive, and he dialled the Tiger. ‘Mr Spearman? It’s Clunk. I’ve discovered your intended passenger is a wanted criminal.’