The Legend of Dan

by Robert Wingfield

  * * *

  Tom was feeling more comfortable at last. Kara had assured him that the worst of the danger was over, and that all they had to do now was a simple bit of detective ‘foot’ work. He had stopped complaining about being taken away from home, when Kara showed him the upper level of the ship. It was reached via an inverted gravity tube at one side. If you were at the bottom, you floated upwards, and once at the top, the gravity could be inverted, so you floated back downwards. He spent some time playing with it, before Kara switched it off when he was half way up, to regain his attention. She showed him around.

  The upper level of the ship appeared to be the sleeping quarters. There were bunks, storage wardrobes, a shower, decontamination units, and various strange cubicles, but Tom's interest was focused on the centre. There was a large circular bed, strewn with brightly-coloured cushions. The ship could obviously support a larger crew, but he could find no evidence of anyone else on board.

  Kara evaded questions concerning other companions. Instead, she showed him how the shower worked, and left him to it. He stripped off the overall, and with his eyes tightly closed, stood under the torrent, as jets of warm fluid scoured every orifice. A great feeling of comfort and relaxation stole over him. “Lovely,” he muttered. The jets stopped, and warm air blasted him dry. He opened his eyes and was astonished to see the shower had also removed all bodily hair, except for the top of his head—the closest shave he’d ever had.

  Tom redressed in the boiler suit, which seemed to be self-cleaning, and floated back down to the control room. Kara ignored him, so he settled where he could keep his eyes fixed on the delicious form of his pilot. Eventually, he thought he should say something. “Um, Kara?”

  “What?” She kept her eyes on the console.

  “That shower…”

  “Good, isn’t it?”

  “Yes, but it’s taken all my hair off.”

  “Oh yes, sorry about that. It defaults to that setting. It saves all that tedious shaving of the legs and everything else if you need to. So you are depilated are you?” Her chair swivelled and she peered at Tom with interest. “I think I prefer it. All that facial hair, gone now. How could you tell the difference between you and a monkey? Would you like a banana?”

  “No.”

  “There we are then,” she said brightly, “it’s working already. You can say goodbye to those simian tendencies. We’ll civilise you yet.” She smiled at him, and his anger melted. The strain on the blouse buttons seemed to be increasing. Thoughts of caressing her body and running his hands up her smooth long silky legs flashed through his mind. There was a stirring that made him uncomfortable. He held her gaze, hoping she had not noticed.

  She smiled benevolently. “You remind me of a puppy I used to have. Did you know your tongue’s hanging out?”

  Tom shut his mouth with a snap, and dropped his gaze. It rested on her legs. He dropped it again and pretended to be interested in the patterns on the floor.

  “Did you want something?” she asked sharply.

  He stared back into the beautiful face. “Here goes. I was thinking that with all this space travel, perhaps you could give me a little cuddle to pass the time... Or maybe a shag, you horny tart.”

  “Don’t get too enthusiastic,” she sounded preoccupied. “You are here because your profile fitted the requirements of the mission. You are not indispensable, so don’t push your luck.” The machine stopped humming. “That’s done it. We’ve landed, so let’s get to work. We have to trace the source of that delivery. The note said that if we had any problems, we should contact someone in ‘Despatch’ on Antares 3. That’s where we are now.”

  “Do we know what this person looks like?”

  “All I have to go on is the location I pinpointed from chemical analysis on that fighting creature. It had traces of a rare blend of caffeine and rust in its fur. Apparently the only remaining machine of that type and manufacture is owned by an ‘O.D.D. Bluben’, and is located in this building.”

  “And it’s still in use?”

  “Apparently. I hacked into its link via the ‘Galactinet of Doobries’...”

  “What’s that?”

  “It’s the system where the maintenance company monitor it remotely, and reorder supplies or repairs, even before the owner knows they are needed.”

  “Useful.”

  “Yes, lots of things are joined to it, and I quite often connect in to find out things. For example, I know all about your own association with your wife’s knicker drawer...”

  “I didn’t realise the drawer and I were linked.”

  “That’s the beauty of it. GoD is omnipresent.”

  Tom changed the subject rapidly. “So we should ask this Bluben a few questions?”

  “Better than that, we can torture him a bit, blackmail him, and then use him to get us into the JWSU systems. I know all about the incident with the cabbage and the cheese that is keeping him awake at nights; his fridge told me. Now, come on, let’s muster.”

  Kara handed Tom a small box, like a 20th century hearing aid. “Here, put this bit in your pocket and this other part in your ear. It’s a universal translator unit, dummy,” she continued scathingly, in answer to the unspoken question on his face. “Do you really think that everybody out here speaks English?”

  “They do on my planet, and those that don’t are not worth talking to. So does anyone speak English?”

  “Actually, now I come to think of it, a lot of them do, but that’s only because a load of alien visitors attend football matches and take holidays in Ibiza, but I shouldn’t be telling you that.”

  “I’ve never noticed.”

  “Most of them wear hoodies, so you wouldn’t.”

  Tom grinned inanely, and clumsily fitted the device into his ear. “Where's yours then?”

  “I don’t need one; I speak most languages.”

  “Useful and convenient.”

  “Come on then, Fido.”

  Tom trotted along behind his companion, enjoying the sight of her legs, and the swing of her hips as she glided along. She led him across a garden and into the building via a door at the side of an office.

  “This is the place.”

  Tom deliberately let himself bump into her as she stopped abruptly at the open office door. Again, he was impressed by the firmness of her body. She ignored him. He apologised half-heartedly, pushed past her and stared round a seemingly empty office.

  “Too late,” he said with relief. “He’s not here.”

  “Probably coffee break,” replied Kara. “Although there’s the machine we’re looking for. Hang on, did you hear something?”

  “Only you.”

  Kara leaped forward and dragged out a bedraggled, sobbing creature from behind a console. “Where’s Bluben?” she shouted, shaking Suzanne by the shoulders.

  “Gone.” The girl burst into tears again. “It’s all my fault.”

  “Where?” Kara demanded roughly. “What’s your fault? Come on stop blubbering; pull yourself together. I’m not going to kill you... yet. You can tell me everything.”

  “So, who the Phoist are you?” The girl stopped whimpering and gazed tearfully at her.

  “Auditors! Spot check.”

  “Oh my Phoist. I knew this would happen. What do you want?”

  “Comply, or you will be issued with a failure notice, and may risk losing your certificate.”

  “No, not my certificate...” The girl scowled. “What the Phoist is a certificate?”

  Tom stared at her. Where had he seen her before? “Look, leave her alone.” He butted in, and levered Kara out of the way. He felt strangely protective towards this poor creature, more so perhaps than he might normally have been—even with a red, tear-streaked face, she was remarkably attractive. A hint of his former chivalry, and lechery, showed. He placed himself between her and Kara’s icy stare.

  “You are very kind, sir.” The girl extracted a handkerchief f
rom her sleeve, and started to recompose herself. “I didn’t even know I had a certificate. I really don’t want to lose it, now I’ve found out.”

  Kara grunted. Her voice became gentler. “Look, I'm sorry, lady, but we haven’t time to waste on silly emotions. Who are you anyway?”

  “I—I am—I was supposed to be assistant to Bluben but...” She faltered as the stare bored into her again.

  “Where is he?”

  “I don’t know. He dashed off when you arrived...”

  “Liar!” Kara exploded again. “You do know where his is! You are covering for him.”

  The girl broke down again, and hid her face in her hands. “I don’t,” she wailed. “Why should I? He sacked me!”

  “Right, that’s enough,” snapped Tom. “She doesn't know where he is. He looked at her quizzically. “You don't do you?”

  Suzanne shook her head and tears dripped on the console, causing a slight crackle.

  “There you are,” he said, “now leave her alone. We’ll have to find Bluben some other way.” He tried to out-stare Kara, realising after he had started, that he was sure to lose. Her steely eyes held his for a few seconds, and then to his surprise, she looked away.

  “Okay then,” she said, “there is another way.” Her eyes lighted on Suzanne’s workstation. “That will do. Connect me in will you, er…”

  “Suzanne...”

  “Pleased to meet you. I am Kara-Tay, and this blob of brainless muscle here…”

  Tom snorted.

  “…is Two-Dan, the Saviour of the Galaxy.”

  “What?” Tom shook his head. Suzanne raised her eyebrows, and regarded him with faint respect.

  “Nothing,” said Kara. “Now patch me in, Weepy, and I'll do the rest.”

  “Log you in to secure systems? I can’t do that. Should I do that? It is against the rules. I will get the blame. I could lose my certificate again.”

  “Do you work here?”

  “I guess not. I’ve been fired.”

  “Then the rules don’t apply to you.”

  “I suppose they don’t. I really shouldn’t though.”

  “Yes, you should or I will have to kill you. On the other hand, I guess this is your password on the Post-it note here?”

  Suzanne shrugged. “Some of it, and seeing as how you put it so nicely. What more can they do to me they haven't already?” She sat at her workstation. “These are my security codes. Good, they still work. I expect there has to be a mass of paperwork to disable my credentials.” A hologram rose out from the console. “There are the stock systems and order records.”

  “Good. It’s the right place to start. Move over.” Kara took hold of the back of Suzanne’s chair and wheeled it and its sniffing occupant casually into a corner.

  Tom watched fascinated as Kara's hands ranged around the desktop, electronically shuffling the ‘papers’ out of the way. She picked up the stylus and called up a group of hieroglyphics, which she prodded a few times. Unintelligible text flashed across the desk, and Tom became distracted as he realised that the front of Kara’s blouse had come away from her chest as she leaned forward, intent on her work. The soft curve of her breasts disappeared enticingly into the darkness. He reached out to move the cloth, almost unable to stop himself. Kara brushed his hand away with the same concern she would a fly. The desk beeped at her. “Is this the right area?” she murmured to herself.

  The screen lit up and the systems responded, “Error log—J.W.S.U. reports. Please stand by.”

  “Interface.” Kara laid a device which looked like a powder compact on the surface of the desk, and pulled up another wheeled chair.

  “Interfacing,” responded the system.

  Kara smiled, folded her arms, and leaned back. “This is a cross-referenced list of all the incorrectly supplied orders for the last period,” she explained to the others. “I am matching it with a recorded set of anomalies. Have you seen this before?” She waved her hand at the list, and shot an accusing look at Suzanne.

  Suzanne read the details of various disasters the orders had caused. “I’ve been an accessory to all this?” She burst into tears again. “I knew it was all wrong. I did try to stop him, and look where it got me…”

  Tom put his arm round her shoulders to try and comfort her, but she shrugged it off. They listened, as Kara continued to read from the list. It seemed, however, judging by customer feedback, that very few of the customers were actually satisfied with the service. The exception being a load of five star reviews, all finishing with, “I received this free to test, in return for my honest, unbiased review, of which I have given.”

  Of particular note, were events in the history of Earth that Kara extracted for Tom’s benefit; events which had had a significant effect in the past:

  Apparently, one ‘Attila-the-Hun’ had ordered a set of stainless steel cutlery three times, and each time, the goods delivered were parcels of weapons and armour. The address of the Stores, at that time, was written on the delivery notes as ‘Via Vandalaris, Rome’, with an invitation to rectify the problems in person.

  Another was a ‘Mr. N. Bonaparte of Corsica,’ who ordered a dinner suit. It had arrived as a general’s uniform, the waistcoat of which was so badly made, that he had to keep his hand inside his jacket to hold it together. Later he received supplementary invoices from addresses in Moscow, Waterloo and the island of Elba for goods not delivered. Apparently, looking at the feedback, he vowed revenge for a set of uniform buttons that disintegrated in low temperatures.

  “And all that is saved in a device the size of a powder compact?” asked Tom regarding it with awe.

  “No, that is my powder compact–I hoped I’d have time to put my face straight while we were waiting for the programs to run, but the security is laughable.”

  Suzanne seemed to pull herself together, and stood up. “I feel a complete fool that I didn't realise he was up to all that. I should have reported him. What can I do to set matters straight?”

  “I would have thought you’d done enough already,” Kara snapped. “We can manage quite nicely, thank you.”

  Suzanne grunted and sat down again. She produced a large handbag, and fished inside, eventually applying tissues and make-up.

  Kara continued. “Now, both of you leave me in peace to sort out this mess. You can keep watch. Bluben may have left a clue in his personal files. I need to concentrate, to work out his access codes… unless you know them.” She glared at Suzanne, who shook her head dumbly. “Okay then.” Kara moved over to Bluben’s desk, sat down, and put her feet on one of the screens. “I’ll start with his schedule. System?”

  “At your service,” responded the terminal.

  “I have a few questions for you,” said Kara.

  “Please ask.”

  “Where is Bluben now?”

  “I regret that I have been instructed not to answer that question.”

  “Do you know where to find him?”

  “I cannot answer that.”

  “Can you tell me where he isn’t?”

  “Yes.”

  “Good, according to his itinerary listing, there are only a dozen possible locations he can be going to. Is he not going to ‘Wellerk 3’?”

  “Yes.”

  “Is he not going to Sci-Alpha?”

  “Yes.”

  “Is Bluben not heading for the planet ‘Skagos’?”

  “No.”

  “Excellent. Has he not booked a holiday with the Skagans?”

  “No.”

  “That was easy wasn’t it?”

  The system seemed to reflect on the conversation, and then made a strange gurgling sound. “Security breach,” it said. “I am switching to emergency games programs, while the database is securely erased to Galactic standard 5220.22-M, subsection 3, below the bit marked with the red pen.”

  The consoles in the room all lit up as the system started playing the most processor-intensive game in the
universe, ‘Windows Update’. It dedicated all its resources, and downloaded unwanted fixes in vast numbers, swamping the galactic GoD connections. All the screens in the office went blank, and the coffee machine threw up an error and most of its contents on the floor.

  “So,” Kara looked smugly at Tom, “I think a trip to Skagos is in order to find our missing friend. I’ll send the data over to the cylinder.” She closed her compact, and then switched off the terminal.

  “One moment.” Tom caught her by the arm as she strode past him. The feel of her body as it rubbed against him almost put him off track, but he stuttered on. “We should take the girl with us? I mean, her boss has gone, and her job.”

  Suzanne looked up sharply. “I would like to help...”

  Kara glanced at Tom. “I suppose she could be of some use, if only to give you something to think about, other than me.”

  Tom studied his shoe to avoid catching anyone’s eye.

  “I have other things to do, so I could leave it to you. It won’t do any harm having an extra pair of eyes. And we will need someone to identify Bluben of course.” She glanced at a photograph of Bluben’s family on his desk. “We still don’t know what he looks like...”

  Suzanne gave a wan smile. “I won’t let you down.”

  Tom felt a strange lump in the pit of his stomach. Where had he seen her before?

  “You won’t,” said Kara, “if you know what’s good for Two-Dan here. Come on. Better not waste any more time. Bearing in mind what we’ve done to their systems, they might not be chummy enough to buy us a sandwich. Follow me.”

  Tom helped Suzanne hastily gather her possessions, and they ran with armfuls of cuddly toys and potted plants, as smoke started to billow from several consoles in the office. They found out later that the system had dedicated more and more resources as the game progressed. Much of the downloadable content was not backwards-compatible, and required existing programs to be upgraded to keep working. Most of these programs were hard-coded, and immediately reset to their default parameters. The overall security program had inbuilt fail-safes, that were instructed to erase any programs suspected of being compromised. The G.0.D. connected to the fire suppression systems detected all the other problems, reversed polarity, and started spraying flames out of the sprinkler system.