by James Lay
Chapter 3
“This whole situation is getting worse and worse by the minute,” said Pat,” what is this place for gods sake?”
“I reckon we’re in a space station, or maybe a bored out asteroid.” Said Carl.
“That's just great.” Said Pat.
They just stood there and took in the view. Even though their situation was more than desperate, the sight outside the 'window' was absolutely spectacular. Not only were they able to look at the 'Red' planet, not Mars they realised, but they could also see it's sun, at least they assumed it to be the sun of this solar system.
The red planet was about twice earth moon size, as viewed from earth, it also had it’s own moons. The 'sun' however was one hundred or even two hundred times the size of the red planet and it was over to their left. It was a cooling sun, it was possible to see the mottled crust seething and bursting forth enormous flames of gas. What a sight.
The planet was red, Carl thought, due to the size and colour of the sun. He couldn't see any evidence of any blue seas, no clouds, nothing but red earth. The moons were pockmarked like the old man-in-the-moon. They appeared to be in pretty regular orbit, and it was possible to detect their movement along their orbits, they all seemed to be on the same orbital path and at the same distance from the planet. Another moon was rising over the edge of the planet, making a total of five. There was nothing else in the immediate area, the stars showed no recognisable patterns, not surprising really, they were nowhere near their own solar system and that was a fact.
“Oh dear.” Came a quiet spout from Pat.
“We've done it this time Pat, we're in deep trouble and no mistake.” Said Carl.
“What do you suggest we do, the food's good but I don't want to stay here.” Pat said.
Carl didn't know what to suggest, nothing came to mind immediately, it was no good saying”go home”, where was 'home' from here. They needed help from the equipment around them, there must be an operations room somewhere.
“Hey,” said Pat,” that looks just like a bog to me.”
The 'bog' he referred to was an enclosure that had appeared silently from the wall and definitely was of the toilet design...bog.
“Time to get rid of your beer,” said Carl,” didn't realise I was bursting.”
They both went over and studied the plumbing, very similar to the standard Motorway gents, bowl with hole in the bottom. Honest and good relief for both of them.
“This is all pretty considerate of the no-ones who aren't here,” said Pat,” what's making all this stuff do its business I wonder.”
Carl wondered that as well, there was a receptive intelligence somewhere around and there were sensors that were picking up their requirements.
It was then that the door cycled open.
“Hello, a welcoming committee maybe,” Pat said,” what the hell's that, let's get out of here.”
The sudden panic was caused by the silent entry of what could only be described as a couple of robots, as corny as it may sound. These machines did not walk, they hovered, some half a metre off the floor. They were the 'regulation' black, cylindrical, about one metre long and egg shaped, totally silent.
You expect to see eyes and a mouth and stuff like that but these had absolutely no external features. They were floating slowly, in a ghostly way, towards them.
“I don't like the look of this Carl, let's get the hell out of here.” The 'robots' continued their approach and were only fifteen metres away.
“You go to the left and I'll go to the right, the door's still open.” Carl shouted.
They moved, and fast. The entry door closed. The hover bugs stopped and slowly advanced towards their new positions. It was easy to move out of their way, but for how long.
The bugs obviously ran out of patience very early. A small panel opened up in the front of the one nearest to Carl and a tiny rod extended. Without any hesitation a deep blue beam of light winked across the intervening gap, there was no feeling of it striking Carl but his muscles slowly refused to operate until he was forced to stop. Pat was going the same way. The bugs had them, it was funny really, they looked like those stunned people in films, where they can't keep still enough. Both Pat and Carl were still able to move but oh - so slowly.
Carl only had eyes for his bug now, it was right in front of him. His senses were in full gear, it hadn't knocked him out and his eyes and breathing were all fine.
The bug opened long slits in its side and out came 'arms' that split into a network of fine mesh. It placed the mesh around Carl, and he could see Pat was also netted, and picked him up bodily and proceeded on its gentle way to carry him out of the room. So bloody frustrating, nothing could be done about it, netted, but now for the answers to their questions maybe.
They didn't go along the corridor, but instead passed through a large square hole in the corridor ceiling, through another corridor and two more ceilings, along a final corridor and into a shiny and horrible looking room.
The shiny bits were instruments, the sort of instruments you find in an operating theatre. This was an operating theatre, of sorts.
Pat was now ahead and Carl could see some very slow struggling going on and could make out a hollow noise from him, a sort of slow cry.
He was turned onto his back, on a black bench, under soft lights, and already a shiny slim arm was pressed to his throat. Pat's eyes were closed.
As Carl was similarly slowly turning he saw another arm extend over Pat, it lowered and a soft pink light winked at its end. It positioned itself on Pat's stomach and without bothering with his clothing, cut him open from stomach to throat.
Carl fell into blackness...........he could only think that this was what death felt like. It was so comfortable and warm, another half-hour and he would get up, maybe breakfast.
It was then that Carl realised he was lying on his back and very much alive. He opened his eyes and looked around and saw that Pat was next to him, they were both stark naked. Pat had not a mark on him, yet Carl had seen the light-knife open him up. He took a closer look, not a mark.
“Fancy a tumble under the sheets do you.” Said Pat.
“Christ you made me jump you bastard,” said Carl,” do you remember what happened?”
“Hey, I do, what happened?” He asked.
“I definitely saw them open you up from stomach to throat. It was gross.”
Pat had a quick look and feel of his front.
“Nothing here, even my appendix scar is missing. What the hell happened?” He said.
“Maybe they had a look to see what we are made of, I feel ok, how about you?” Carl asked.
“Ace,” he replied”and I'll tell you what, my knee cartilage feels l00%, do you think they've sorted us out?” He asked.
“I've only just realised I can see perfectly and I haven't got my glasses on.” Said Carl.
He looked down at his wrist and saw that his Casio watch was still there. It was now Sunday, 8 p.m.
“Hey, it's Sunday, eight at night, we've been out that long,” he said,” wonder what's happening in Brunei?”
“I bet they are going ape-shit. Gurkers will be out with the dogs, hope they find us,” Pat laughed, but it was a bit of an empty laugh,” Kate will be going hairless with you lost. What can we do?”
“Buggered if I know, one thing I do know, I'm getting dressed.” Carl said. He had just noticed a change of clothing on the floor, with new shoes and socks.
“Pretty efficient of them to have our sizes in stock,” said Pat,” unless they made them specially.”
“That wouldn't surprise me at all, but who are 'they'?” He wondered.
They slipped into their new togs, grey sort of overalls with no fasteners, at least, none you could see, the join at the front went together and held fast and only came apart with a fair bit of force.
“Very bloody smart Mr. Webster,” said Pat,” how do I look?”
“100% better than I've seen you in years, good fit, where to now?” Carl
replied.
As if in answer, the door opened and a floater-thing half entered and then went out. It came half way in again and then went out again.
“Like a dog who wants us to follow.” Said Carl.
“Lead on Mutley, we are close behind.” Said Pat.
And it was like that, the 'mutley' led them to a room similar to the first one they had entered. Same console, same buttons, so Pat did the same as before and some more 'food' was delivered. This time it didn't resemble anything they'd ever seen before but smelled good and tasted a bit Indian curry-like.
“Good food, where's the beer.” Laughed Pat.
“Funny,” Carl said,” all the time we've been here and I don't feel thirsty, ought to have been after that jungle trek.”
“You're right, same here,” said Pat.” Bloody Hell.” He exclaimed, as two clear glass screens popped out of the top of the tables, straight up about half a metre. As one they both looked under the table, clear air, how the hell.......
“Andarf drafendil.” said the screen and some symbols were shown.
“What the hell's all that about?” said Pat.
The queer lines and squiggles disappeared.
“See napt in all darfed dan et lote.” Said the screen. More lines and dots and circles.
“This is worse than Chinese to me,” said Pat,” they are obviously trying to teach us their language.”
“No, I think it's the other way about. They're asking us and we are not giving the customary reply, so they're adjusting their words to suit us.”
The screen was clear again. They waited about three minutes and then.
“Welcome to junction BND404 animals. We are giving some problems in asking the wrong speeches, and you dimp help them.” Said the screen.
“That's nearly it,” said Pat,” how about a couple of beers, that's beer, a drink, slurp-slurp from the red grenade.”
“Bloody great, how's that going to help, you're likely to get a can of oil instead of beer, let's see what they have to say.” Said Carl.
There was another, even longer, period of silence. During that time Carl found the buttons again, under his seat's armrest and managed to raise the 'window' screen. The other button dimmed the lights. There were six more buttons to go, but the screen came to life again.
“I have not been able to find your language in any of our files which is most peculiar. I am able now to communicate with you. Your speech has been recorded from the moment you entered BND404. I apologise for the event of the operation room, as you call our recovery area. You had eaten our food and deposited waste products into our survey system. We had an emergency response due to the life threatening creatures you have lodged in your bodies. You must forgive our actions, we believed them to threaten your existence. It was only during the cleansing that we found that many of these small creatures assist you in your peculiar method of living. We found it necessary to remove many creatures, some that were breeding in many cells of your bodies and causing serious decay to many of your important organs.”
“Mr. Murtagh, we found a type of creature in your lungs which was producing cells out of control and would have stopped your life within a short time. You also had a drug coated on your lungs, heart, liver, and kidney that was causing serious aggravation. You will no longer need this drug. Nicotine you call it.”
“Mr. Webster, your eyes were in poor condition and you had lost the power to see in the Infrared and Ultra Violet wavelengths. This has been corrected and is under your control. Your blood was of poor quality and is now modified. You will no longer need to worry about lack of oxygen either in the air or under water. You will be a able to exist easily in both without effort.”
Hold on, hold on, hold on, stop,” said Pat,” you're worse than my bloody mother, she don't stop talking once she's started either. Where did you learn the words for heart and kidney and stuff if our languages are not on file? I've never said them, nor has Carl.”
“No but you are now communicating on a partial mind wave process. I could not communicate or read your understandings until I had been able to enter verbal communications, it's like tuning a radio into the correct station. Now I have your wavelength.”
“Where are we?” Carl asked.
“On Junction BND404.” Said the screen.
“I know that for Christ’s sake, I mean where in relation to our home planet, Earth?”
“I cannot identify where your planet is. It is not on my file.” Said the screen.
“Well ring up the main base, the boss, and see if they have it on file.” Said Pat.
“That is not possible, this Junction was abandoned over 1,500,000 of your years ago. We will never be contacted again. This station is abandoned and only maintains itself in the unlikely event that it will be re-opened.
“Have you tried to contact them lately?” Carl asked.
“Oh yes, that is done approximately every one of your earth years, but there has been no response.”
“What about the ship we came in, where's the crew?” Pat asked.
“They have now been removed. They were in deep sleep but perished over 1,500,000 of your years ago. The ship suffered mechanical failure.”
“But how did it get us here then?” Carl asked.
“It grew its repairs during the last l00,000 of your years. It can carry out that function but requires the correct nutrients, chemicals and cosmic rays for the process. It lost its crew so remained in an abandoned state, similar to this Junction. It came back to operation when you entered and then proceeded here when you activated the code sequence.”
“Surely you know then, where we came from, from the flight record of the ship?” Asked Carl.
“If that were the case I would then know, however, the ship had not been programmed with its point of departure, you sometimes call it a waypoint. It travelled here on the homing beacon.”
“Then you know the direction it came from don't you?” Carl asked.
“Your distance of travel could have been thousands of billions of light years and the warps of space cancel out any direction on a beacon return unless the waypoint is set prior to return. You are from unknown territory I am afraid gentlemen.”
“I was just thinking that myself,” said Pat,” we're regularly screwed but this time it looks pretty permanent.”
“You will have to leave this Junction within the next one year of your time gentlemen, the local sun is very unstable and it is not beyond the possibility that violent storms will send fatal doses of radiation through our shields, but you are safe for the time being.” Said the screen.
“We don't intend staying long, we're going back home”. Said Pat.
“How do you intend to do that gentlemen, when even I don't know where you came from and you have no idea of the complexities of machine flight?” Asked the screen.
“If that's the case,” Carl said,” how are we going to leave?”
There came a short and profound silence.
“Good point,” said the screen,” You had better prepare for a crash course on all aspects of machine interstellar flight, it will not be easy but you will learn.”
“When do we start?” Asked Carl.
“I will prepare the necessary disciplines whilst the repairs to the hyperspace machine are carried out. There will be many repairs and it will take some time to activate the repair mice, but should not take longer than one of your earth months. We begin lessons tomorrow, the courses are prepared. The Junction is activated to your commands. We will meet tomorrow.”
“Where.” said Pat.
“Anywhere you are.” Said the screen and turned off.