The Blunt End of the Service

by L. J. Simpson

  “Any problems, Bernie?” he said.

  “No, mate. Quiet as a tomb.”

  “Good. Another coffee?”

  “No thanks, Arch. It’s been a long day. I guess I’ll head off home. Cheers for the biscuits.”

  “Don’t suppose you left any?”

  “Might be a couple left,” he lied. “See you.”

  Leaving Ops, Bernie descended two flights of stairs and made his way around towards the entrance of the Avenue, the spoke leading back to Alpha Section. The route took him by the holding room where Hector was being kept and as he passed by, he noticed that the door was slightly ajar, the lights inside switched on. The guys from Comtec must have arrived early, he thought. He stuck his head around the door to see a middle aged man kneeling beside a power console, staring intently at the readouts.

  “Hi,” said Bernie. “I didn’t think you guys were due until tomorrow.” The man jumped up in surprise, almost falling over backwards in the process.

  “Sorry,” said Bernie with a laugh. “Didn’t mean to startle you. Need any help?” The man didn’t answer. He just stood there, staring at Bernie with a confused look on his face.

  “You OK?” said Bernie, entering the room. To his surprise the man began to back away towards the rear of the compartment, the bewildered look being replaced with one of anxiety. What on earth was the matter with the fellow, wondered Bernie. Come to think, who was he? He wasn’t one of the usual guys and he wasn’t wearing one of the normal Comtec work suits. Concentrating on the retreating figure in front of him, Bernie never noticed a second person approach silently from behind, wrench in hand. An arm raised and the wrench came crashing down onto Bernie’s skull, just behind his right ear. Bernie dropped like a puppet whose strings had been cut, his data pad clattering from his grip as he fell.

  The assailant picked up the pad and thumbed the ‘on’ switch. According to the work schedule on the pad, he’d been working on Airlock 28 not long ago. That would make things simpler.

  “Get finished up here. Leave this to me,” he said, dragging Bernie’s inert form onto the cart that was waiting to transport Hector to his new home. With a quick look to check that the coast was clear he pushed the cart out into the corridor and set off in the direction of Delta Section. Nothing stirred as he moved briskly along the spoke, the wheels of the cart thrumming rhythmically as he passed over the joints in the flooring plates.

  Bernie was floating, drifting on the edge of consciousness. There was pain, but it was detached, undefined. He blinked and tried to focus on the hazy, indistinct shapes that passed before his eyes but try as he might everything remained a blur. He was… in a maze? He was gliding, almost effortlessly, along some kind of tunnel, sometimes in darkness and then in brilliant light. The light burned his eyes and he shut them tight, but then he turned a corner in the maze and once again he became lost in shadow. He strained to open his eyes again but his eyelids refused to do what they were told, or perhaps there was just nothing to see. There were muffled sounds, rhythmic beats, like footsteps that increased in ferocity until the noise thundered inside his head and the darkest of voids engulfed him.

  A few minutes later the cart drew to a halt at the entrance to Delta Section, now in darkness. The shadowy figure heaved Bernie over his shoulder – no mean feat in itself – and crept silently down the unlit stairs, along the corridor and into Airlock 28. Lowering Bernie to the floor he returned to the safety of the corridor and closed the door.

  Airlocks operated under strict safety protocols which prevented the outer door being opened by accident or negligence. This particular person knew how to do something that wasn’t supposed to be possible. Opening the access panel to the airlock he pulled out one of the relays and replaced it with a small connector which led to his data pad. From there he uploaded a program that first evaded the security firewalls and then bypassed the safely protocols. From a drop down menu he selected the ‘Open outer door’ option. His finger hovered above the ‘Execute’ icon as he gazed around to make sure that he was indeed alone and then his finger stabbed down.

  Bernie stirred slightly on the cold floor. An orange light was flashing just above his head; he knew that it meant something but he couldn’t quite recall what it was. And there was a sound, a frantic buzzing somewhere off in the distance. As his eyes blinked open his surroundings swam briefly into focus and with vague surprise Bernie noted the designation ‘Airlock 28’ written along the wall. He winced in pain as he angled his head upwards to see the locking clamps on the outer door begin to disengage one by one. Realization dawned, but before he even had the time to wonder if Emily might be waiting for him the hurricane tore at him and he was gone.

  Many would argue about whether you are blown out into the vacuum of space, or sucked out. Whatever the truth, the difference was lost on Bernie as he exited this world for the next, the only saving grace being that as he blasted out of the airlock his head crashed into the edge of the door jam, finishing the job that the wrench had begun just a few minutes earlier.

  Back in Ops, Archie Andrews positioned his chair to allow his feet to rest gently on the edge of the auxiliary console. He had long since worked out that if you adjusted the height and inclination of the chair just so, you could achieve a semi-reclined posture that was perfect for keeping an eye on the main display and equally suitable for taking a nap, which was next up on his ‘to do’ list.

  He was just starting to nod off when a high pitched alarm shattered the silence. A flashing red light above his head added to the effect and Archie jolted upright, gawking at the monitor. ‘Emergency Code 915’ flashed across the screen. Code 915? What the hell was a Code 915? Like everyone else, Archie knew all the codes that would make you dash for the escape pods. Code 901 was a hull breach, 902 was a fire and 903 a reactor failure. Archie punched up the details which read, ‘Airlock accident. Delta Section. Airlock 28.’ Bloody hell.

  Commander Jacobs had just sat down to dinner when the call came through from Archie. An airlock accident? There hadn’t been one or those for years, not anywhere. They were supposed to be a thing of the past, weren’t they? He dropped his knife and fork on the table and set off for Ops. By the time he got there, Chuck, Penny and a few others had already arrived. Bad news travels fast.

  “What do we have?” said Jacobs.

  “Code 915 in Delta Section,” said Archie. “According to this, the outer door of Airlock 28 is open and the bio-sensors detected something going out.”

  “Someone gone for an EVA?” said Bill Longman.

  “Don’t think so. Looks like the door was opened while the airlock was still pressurized. That shouldn’t happen either. If anyone was in there they’d have been shot out like cork from a bottle.”

  “Bernie,” said Chuck. “Bernie was checking the airlocks along Delta Section today.”

  “Get down there, Chuck,” said Jacobs. “Bill, you too. While you’re gone I’ll try and find out if Bernie is still on the station. And Chuck, be careful.”

  Chuck, Penny and Bill hurried across to Delta Section and down to Airlock 28. When they arrived, Chuck peered through the small porthole into the airlock. The door at the far end was wide open, with the stars beyond. As Chuck watched, the planet’s bluish moon drifted into view and for a few seconds Chuck, the open door and the moon were in perfect alignment. Chuck stood wide eyed at the unexpected panorama.

  “What’s up?” said Bill in alarm. “See something?”

  “No,” said Chuck. “It’s just the moon. Whether there was anyone in here or not, it’s empty now. Let’s get that outer door closed.” He brought the airlock control panel on line and closed the outer door. Looking through the window he watched as all four locking clamps slid into position. With the outer door closed he pressurized the inside of the airlock and waited until the panel showed three green lights, indicating that the chamber was safe to enter. “Right, let’s have a look inside,” he said.

  “Bugger that,” said Bill. “What if the outer door dec
ides to open again while we’re in there?”

  “Manual locking bar,” said Chuck, opening up a small door below the panel to reveal a sturdy lever. “Providing that it’s not frozen up.” Leaning his full weight against it, the lever moved slowly inwards until he was rewarded with an agreeable clunk. “Satisfied?” he said.

  “If you say so, Sub-Captain. After you, I’m sure.”

  Chuck shivered as he entered the airlock. Having been exposed to the vacuum of space it was still several degrees below zero. He went over and peered at the control panel beside the far door.

  “Run a diagnostic?” said Penny.

  “I should say so,” said Chuck. The program ran for a minute or so after which the ‘Systems nominal’ message appeared. Inside the airlock there was nothing to be seen except for a dark stain on the frame of the outer door.

  “Is that what I think it is?” said Penny.

  “Blood? Could be, but I don’t want to think about how it got there,” said Chuck. “Come on, let’s get back to Ops. There’s nothing more we can do here.” Back in the corridor he shut the door to the airlock and removed all the relays from the control panel. “Just to make sure the same thing doesn’t happen again,” he said, slipping the relays into his pocket. Taking a final look inside the airlock he joined the others as they made their way back to the hub.

  When they arrived back in Ops, Jacobs broke the news that everyone on the station was accounted for. Everyone except Bernie.

  “Shouldn’t we put a call out? If he’s gone… well… you know,” said Chuck awkwardly. “We ought to try and find him, even if it’s just to recover his body. Phoenix could send out a search and rescue ship.”

  “Exactly what time was the alarm, Archie?” said Jacobs.

  “18:28 and 43 seconds.”

  “Knowing the rotation of the station we should be able to get a rough idea of the direction he would have gone.”

  “I’m on it,” said Archie. “Matching sensors to approximate bearing… Got something. I can probably get a visual if you want.”

  Jacobs nodded silently. Archie worked at the controls, the image on the monitor fluttering as the long rage cameras strove to bring it into focus. Finally the picture burst into perfect clarity, revealing the body of Bernie Stevens tumbling slowly end over end.

  An hour later everyone was summoned to a meeting in the crew room. Once everyone was present Commander Jacobs stood and confirmed to a stunned Ops crew that Bernie had been killed in an airlock accident, causes unknown.

  “How could it happen?” said Guns. “What about the safety protocols?”

  “At present we just don’t know,” said Jacobs. “A diagnostic was run on the door but nothing showed up. Right Chuck?”

  “That’s right, boss. All systems were nominal. Could be some kind of intermittent problem I suppose, a short circuit, faulty processer or relay. I took all the relays from the panel when we left the airlock. I’ll check them out later.” He took them from his pocket and laid them on the table in front of him. Commodore Jacks fidgeted in his chair, plainly irritated. Getting to his feet he leaned across and swept up the relays in his hand.

  “You can do all the checks you want,” he said. “They’ll tell you nothing. I already know the cause of the accident.”

  “You do?” said Jacobs in surprise.

  “Yes, and so should you. Incompetence. Plain and simple.”

  “But Bernie was–” began Jacobs.

  “This,” interrupted Jacks, “Is what happens when you don’t follow procedure. This is what happens when you are unprofessional. This, is what happens when you become slack!” he said, slapping his hand down on the table.

  “And slack, gentlemen, is what you are. It’s the conclusion I arrived at the day I came aboard this station and nothing I’ve seen since has caused me to change my mind. You are an unprofessional, ill-disciplined rabble, negligent and inept, but by God that’s going to change and it’s going to change quickly. And if it doesn’t I’ll have you posted so fast your feet won’t touch the deck-plating. Either shape up or ship out. Do I make myself clear?” Without waiting for a response he walked briskly to the door. “Commander Jacobs. My office in thirty minutes, if you please,” he said as he left the room.

  “Blimey,” said Ollie.

  The next morning Chuck and Penny were taking breakfast in Maurice’s Café when the news came in that Bernie’s body had been recovered and taken down to the planet. Apparently, Bernie had a cousin living planet-side who had volunteered to look after the funeral arrangements. No-one had much of an appetite and Chuck was absent mindedly pushing a half eaten sausage around his plate.

  “Commodore Jacks seemed pretty sure that it was human error,” said Penny. “Do you really think Bernie could have screwed up?”

  “Wouldn’t have thought so,” said Chuck. “Not in an airlock, anyway. You’d have to completely re-configure the software to make something like that happen. I suppose it could be done but it would take time and effort and it’s not the sort of thing you could do by mistake. Can’t imagine anyone wanting to do it on purpose, either. There must be easier ways to end it all.”

  “I didn’t get to know Bernie very well but he didn’t seem the suicidal type to me.”

  “No. Enjoyed the simple pleasures in life did our Bernie. Glad he’ll get a proper send off, anyway.”

  “Mmm… You know, it struck me that Bernie’s trajectory was taking him out of the system. If they hadn’t been able to find him he might have kept on going, forever and ever.”

  “Not what you want if you’re looking for any sort of closure is it?” said Chuck. “Though I suppose a star would have got in the way sooner or later.”

  “True. Mind you, we’re all made of stardust so I guess he’d just be going home. How’s that for closure?” Chuck pondered that for a moment but before he could answer his data pad started buzzing.

  “Come on,” he said, “Time to say our goodbyes to Hector. It seems the guys from Comtec have come to deliver him to Phoenix.”

  “Will you be sorry to see him go?”

  “Hector? Yeah, a little. He was just about our only claim to fame, though I expect the Dynatron core will do the job OK.”

  “But you did say that Hector might become self aware someday.”

  “Not exactly. I said that he might develop reasoning abilities, which is not the same thing. Sorry Penny, I don’t really go in for this self awareness stuff. He’s just a computer, that’s all. The intelligence is there but the cognizance is just an illusion which, funnily enough, is the exact opposite of most of the Ops crew. There’s irony for you. Goes to show how far Hector is from being human. Anyway, better off the way he is, if you ask me.”

  “Why’s that?”

  “How about if he did become self aware? All that intelligence stuck in a metal box for all eternity. Permanent solitary confinement. If he was human we’d call it inhumane. Seeing as he isn’t we’d have to invent a new term: ‘AI insensitive’ or something. And then what would we do? Take him out to dinner parties? Drives into the country? A quick sail around the harbor?”

  “We could give him a robotic body then he could drive himself.”

  “Oh yeah, then he could do all kinds of things. Take the kids to school, clean the house, cook supper, and in his spare time plot the annihilation of the human race. And why not? For the upwardly mobile super intelligence I imagine the sky would be the limit.”

  “You having me on, sir?”

  “Probably. Just don’t feel comfortable with the idea of having a machine further up the food chain than me, that’s all.”

  “Machines are hardly going to put us on the menu, are they sir?”

  “We don’t put cockroaches on the menu either, do we, Penny? We just stomp on them, mainly because they serve no useful purpose, spread germs and generally make a mess. See where I’m going?”

  “Guess so.”

  “Anyway, if Hector ever did become self-aware he’d probably keep it to himself.
”

  “But why?”

  “Think about every science fiction movie you ever saw.”

  “Can’t say I’m much of a movie buff, to be honest.”

  “Look, what happens when you get a self aware AI? Curtains every time. They end up getting fried, lobotomized, blown to atoms… it absolutely never goes well. So if I was him I’d think twice before announcing it to the universe. It brings a whole new meaning to the idea of ‘coming out’, don’t you think?”

  “Suppose so,” said Penny.

  A few minutes later they arrived at the holding room to find Mike Givens and Doug Timmins standing inside.

  “Hi, Mike, Doug,” said Chuck. “Finished already?”

  “Haven’t started,” said Mike.

  “But where’s Hector?” said Chuck, nodding at the empty space in the middle of the floor, surrounded by a tangle of disconnected cables and pipes.

  “You tell me,” said Doug. “It was like this when we arrived.”

  “So who let you in?” said Chuck.

  “No-one. The door was open when we got here. Thought you were already here.”

  “No, we only just got the call from Ops. Was there no-one else here?”

  “Not a soul. Just this mess on the floor.” said Mike.

  “Hang on a minute,” said Chuck, taking out his data pad. “Ops, this is Chuck. Have any other engineers arrived from Comtec today?”

  “No, Chuck. Just the normal guys,” replied Shorty from Ops. “Why?”

  “Hector’s not here. He’s gone.”

  “Gone where?”

  “How the hell should I know,” said Chuck. “Get on to Commander Jacobs and see if he knows anything.”

  “Will do,” said Shorty. Messages flashed back and forth across the station but within minutes it became clear that no-one had any idea where Hector was.

  “I just checked with base,” said Mike. “No-one at our end knows anything.”