Galactic Rescue Inc. Vol 1. Prelude

by James Lay

  Chapter 18

  Shadow was certainly the centre of a very heated debate. There was no way the Waterians could decide on a policy of saving themselves from the onslaught of the Neft, or Befax 4 - as known to George.

  Pat and Carl stayed out of the conversation to a large extent, only answering questions applicable to the Neft, these were the only ones asked of them.

  They conversed between themselves in English, which had the Waterians really confused, who then went back to their deliberations when Carl explained it was their native tongue. George did very well with the screen mouth-projection, to be able to determine when they were either talking to each other or to the Waterians.

  “It’s all in your speech pictures.” Was his stock reply, but he was still super quick with the switching.

  After about an hour Carl could see the Waterians weren't getting anywhere very fast, they had to be given an alternative to the purely defensive position they were planning.

  Evidently they had over one thousand troop ships in deep storage, 'deep' being the operative word, at the bottom of the sea, three thousand feet down. These ships could not be re-commissioned quickly enough to pose a threat to the next attack from the Neft, and even then they were without weapons or shields of any kind. They also explained that the ships were purely straight-line fliers, only built with one purpose in mind, to evacuate the populace from their now destroyed home planet. These ships were out, as far as a home guard was concerned.

  The one Waterian ship that was in commission was fitted out as a rock carrier, they were also without a hope from that quarter.

  The council was also most surprised about having no inkling of the Neft's ships approach to Water. The attacking forces obviously had an effective shield against the type of radar Water employed.

  “You are talking all the time about defence,” Carl interjected,” how can you hope to defend against a continuous column of Neft ships that will be arriving here for the ever foreseeable future?”

  That had them cold. They hadn’t an answer to that point. Before they could start talking for another hour, to find a solution to that new problem, Carl gave them an option.

  “Pat and I have this ship, which is able to go out and destroy the first Neft ship.”

  Pat's eyes went up a bit, in surprise.

  “We can ram the Neft ship into destruction if need be but,” pausing,” but this would give them time to warn the other ships about our attack and we don't want that to happen.”

  “What do you suggest we do then?” Rolf asked.” The only other option is defence and hope to finish them all off.”

  “What hope do you have of that?” Carl pointed out.” You haven't succeeded over the last five years.”

  “What Carl is suggesting, I think,” said Pat, in a careful voice,” is that we go out to the first ship and capture it in very rapid fashion, correct Carl?”

  “Exactly so, we go out and board the Neft ship and work out its controls and systems and use that knowledge to attack all the other Neft ships.”

  “How can we attack all the ships?” Olaf asked.” They are ten to eleven light years away?”

  “That presents us with no problems,” Carl calmly stated,” ten light years would take us barely a split second to cover.”

  Both Olaf and Rolf stood up in astonishment at that statement.

  “That is not possible, surely,” said Olaf,” we can travel a maximum of one tenth the speed of light and you say you can travel ten light years nearly instantly, impossible.”

  “We can and we will,” said Carl,” I will give you a simple run-down of a plan.”

  He then detailed a plan whereby they would pop into existence beside the nearest Neft ship. George would jam the communication transmitters and both Carl and Pat would board the ship and, with the help of some mice, destroy the entire Neft crew, if forced into it.

  The noise following this statement was of extremely high volume and from only five men. After a few minutes of this chaos Rolf looked first at Carl and then at Pat.

  “You can do this?” He asked.

  “Bet yer life we can,” Pat answered,” not only that but I can see a way to get your people back, alive and in one piece.”

  He had Carl listening now. Had he missed something along the line? He would find out no doubt, and he did.

  “George,” Pat started,” how far is the furthest ship away, of the ones returning to Neft?”

  What use was that, was Carl's thought, then he saw the obvious point. Had the first cargo of kidnapped Waterians arrived at Neft yet?

  “That ship is four light years from Befax.” George stated.

  “That means the Neft, as you call them, travel at well below light speed,” Pat said,” your people are on board that and all the other ships. Still only interested in defence?”

  “My God no,” said Jank,” we have to have a go at them. I just don't see how you can board them if they don't want you to.”

  Neither could Carl!

  “We either cut our way into the hull or fly straight through their cockpit window and I mean through it.” Pat said.

  Obvious really. Pat sounded as if he had been doing that sort of thing on a regular basis. He must have been eating a lot of spinach.

  They talked over further options, and the plans to go with them, but Carl's first idea came out as the one they all thought would meet with the best chance of success.

  George confirmed the radio jamming as being very basic. He would just irradiate all their signals into a scatter, so much mush, easy if you knew how, and obviously George did.

  A lot of time was taken up in giving the council their assurances that the Neft would not be able to detect their approach. That approach would be at a higher speed than any return signal they could receive. They would simply suddenly be there, because they wouldn't be approaching in the true sense of the word, they would just be there.

  When it came down to hard facts, it was only Pat and Carl who would be able to carry out any useful attack. The Waterians explained that their space suits were too old and, anyway, too clumsy for any sort of rapid attack. They were out of the picture.

  So, here they were again, faced with a situation of their own making really, too bloody generous by half. But you couldn't just say cheerio and leave these people to become meat on a farm on Neft - could you? No.

  George had the pin-point accurate position of the approaching Befax 4 ship, at this time they had no idea of its size but it must be pretty big to take back a hundred or so Waterians and have in excess of fifty Neft.

  The idea was to arrive very close to the Neft hull and instantly silence all radio contact. Pat and Carl would then enter the ship, the mode of entry as yet to be decided. Then, with fifty mice, would take the crew apart. It sounded as if it was going to be absolute carnage. The mice use one tactic, slam into anything that they are programmed to. That meant hitting as many Neft as they could at a speed in excess of 4000 miles an hour. It was going to be messy and was something they were not looking forward to.

  What really put Carl off the whole thing was the size and appearance of the Neft, Befax 4 as George had them categorised. They were eight feet tall and looked like Hyenas with arms. He didn't like Hyenas, which are three feet tall, without arms, and what about those shark’s teeth! This was all turning into a nightmare come true. He just hoped his shield wouldn't decide to go on strike at the wrong time.

  “Thinking about them bloody Befax are you?” Pat asked.

  “They don't look like Andy Pandy toys to me.” He replied.

  “Don't worry, we'll give em a bloody hiding, you, me and the mice, a good Mission-Impossible crew.” Pat laughed, nothing seemed to phase him at all.

  The idea of boarding the lead ship, was to see how many Neft they were up against and what made the ships go. George wanted a computer readout. Fortunately it appeared that any travel in space necessitated the use of computers, sentient minds just could not output enough, quickly enough, for all t
he processes needed for successful space flight. It would always amaze Carl that George could plug into an alien computer and read out any information in a matter of minutes. Total mystery.

  They asked if the council would come along with them, on their first sortie, and the council jumped at the chance and asked if they could give them some of our space suits, so that they could join in the fighting. It threw them somewhat when Pat said that they had no suits at all, they would go as they stood.

  “What about the vacuum, and where are your weapons?” Trestin asked.

  “We are totally protected from the vacuum and most forms of attack,” Carl informed him,” and these are our weapons.” Pointing to his right wrist,” you will have to believe us when we say we are more than very confident of their power. These weapons are just about without equal.”

  “Not only that,” Pat added,” but we're taking fifty mice with us, send up a couple George.”

  The mice rocketed into the lounge, to the great consternation of the council. However, they soon calmed down after a closer look at them and the assurance that they were dedicated friends.

  “You are indeed impressively powerful,” said Gard,” I am glad you are on our side.”

  They all laughed at that and Carl detected a certain relaxation of tension by the Waterians, their way out of a horrifying living hell appeared close at hand.

  “When will you want to leave for the attack?” Rolf asked.

  “They're seven days away,” said Pat,” I wouldn't mind a day to prepare, mentally that is, and have a bit of relaxation. I wouldn't mind a glass or two of your excellent beer either, that's as long as you have plenty to spare.”

  Olaf laughed at that.” Not a chance of running out. Beer is what we have by the corridor full. Please, come back down and we'll all have one.”

  Everyone agreed on that as the immediate course of action.

  “It would be a good idea gentlemen,” interrupted George,” if the beacon was turned on again. I suspect that is how the Befax first located you and are using it as their target. We don't want them to become suspicious about the loss of signal.”

  “Good point George,” said Carl,” could you get your Beacon turned back on, as soon as possible.” Looking at Rolf.

  “Straight away, it has never before been turned off, so you have a very valid point.”

  On leaving Shadow, they all but bumped into the huge great rock carrier ship that was perched close to Shadow. Carl's opinion of the strength of the platform and the supporting tube was very much improved. The Waterian ship was enormous and precariously balanced on its belly.

  “Won't it fall off if there's a wind about?” Carl asked of Rolf.

  “It hasn't happened yet,” Rolf assured him,” and in any case it is under drive power now and cannot be moved from this co-ordinate until a new co-ordinate is selected. It bears down on the platform with barely a hundred kilos of actual weight.”

  Right, thought Carl, why didn't I think before speaking, dummy.

  A good evening - an evening outside - was being had by all. The news had been passed throughout the community and the 4000th mile tunnel celebration turned into a Save-the-People celebration. Carl had a serious doubt he would be in a fit state to do anything the next day. He talked over the plans with Pat for half an hour or more and it was agreed that they could cut their way into the Befax ship, very easily, with their photon projectors, they could be set for a metre range on high power. They could take a huge lump out of the side of the ship, if necessary. Carl couldn't see any other way to get in, so that would most probably be the modus operandi.

  They also discussed the stupidity of the Waterians, in as much as they hadn't realised the Neft were from off-planet. Where the hell did they think they came from? There was no land on Water. Did they honestly think the Neft, Befax 4, were also tunnel dwellers and if so why hadn't they been overrun by the horrors in one massive assault. They were lost for words on airing their views about the Waterians, they had an intelligence problem somewhere, perhaps it was simply a lack of common sense.

  Pat was away, into a group of beer swilling and singing people. Carl seemed to have got stuck with Rolf and Olaf somehow and they filled him in on the tunnel system. It wasn't on one level but one hundred levels. They were now on the top level and the rest went down over two thousand feet below. That meant that the area spread of the tunnels was pretty much localised around the lift. The lift was another oddity. For rock removal, the lift would drop down to below the lowest level and the shaft would be converted into a belt-bucket sort of system, except the buckets were driven by anti gravity devices. The Waterians removed rock about once a month, in one massive load, to be dumped where the level of the ocean floor was being raised. Sounded like a job for life to Carl. Why didn't they crush the rock into dust and make floating pontoon cities? Sort of concrete islands. They could sail the oceans doing their farming bit, and all that. He even mentioned it to Rolf who gave him a look as if the penny had just dropped.

  “What a damn good idea. Why didn't we think of that?”

  Why indeed, Carl wondered.

  Carl was, after three hours of talking shop and drinking the lethal beer, a bit more than ten parts cut, so he excused himself and returned to Shadow. Not before noticing Pat with a 'bird' he had trapped and seemed to be getting on very well with too.

  He hit the sack and obviously really crashed out, no dreams, nothing, and simply woke up and it was morning. On checking the time he saw he had slept for ten hours.

  “Breakfast and tea, or coffee?” George enquired.

  “Tea please George, where's Pat?”

  “He's been up a couple of hours and is doing a tour of the tunnels.” George informed him.

  Well, surprise, he thought he would have been dead. Hang-on, he felt fine himself, no hangover.

  “That beer is obviously not as strong as I thought George,” he chatted,” I haven't got the slightest of hangovers.”

  “Yes Carl, it's marvellous what your friendly shield can do, isn't it?” Was Georges' response.

  His shield? Bloody hell, he was wearing a wet nurse, he thought, it had given his blood a wash and brush-up whilst he had been asleep. Thank God he never took if off, he would have felt like death warmed up by now, had that have been the case.

  He collected his breakfast and was pleasantly surprised to see he had kippers or something very close to it.

  “George?”

  “They are the local fish,” George explained,” smoked only two days ago. I hope you like them.”

  They were delicious, with real-looking toast, probably seaweed, and mashed spuds, sort-of, what a mixture - but so tasty.

  “There's something to be said for real food George.”

  “You are correct Carl, I cannot duplicate this. The taste of the smoke is virtually impossible to copy accurately.”

  Carl ate on, supping his tea and watching a black storm, just over the horizon, shooting lightning across the dawn sky. The sun came up at seven and went down at seven. A very good orbit or spin angle.

  “When is Pat due to return George?” He asked.

  “I'll be with you in five minutes.” Came Pat's reply.

  “Ah, morning, had a good trip?”

  “Bloody awful, but I had a good evening, if you know what I mean?”

  “I think I can guess. I suppose we had better get the show on the road. Can't say I'm looking forward to it too much.” He said.

  “Same here,” was the serious reply,” I've organised the off for three this afternoon. Ok with you?”

  “Suppose it'll have to be, can't wait for ever can we?”

  “That's a fact,” agreed Pat,” you were right about these people being thick. They are all asking me how to design and build a soddin city, that floats?”

  “Perhaps if I could have a sample of the aggregate, I could suggest a way to fuse it.” George nipped in.

  “Do what with the what?” Pat asked.

  “We'll do that George,
” said Carl,” bring a couple of bits of rock with you when you come back.”

  “Ok, ok, I've got a bit now. How big?”

  “Half a pound would be adequate.” George advised.

  “That's what I've got, bit of a waste of time if you ask me.”

  Carl walked towards the cockpit and, as he passed the exterior entry door, he noticed crowds of Waterians on the platform below having a squint at Shadow. He gave them a wave and they all burst into spontaneous cheering. Bloody hell, heroes, and nothing had happened yet. It was a good, if not a slightly embarrassing, moment. He just waved them his thanks and carried on to the cockpit.

  Pat joined him shortly after.

  “Georges’ got the rock,” he murmured,” let's run over what we are going to do. If we know!”

  “That sums up this operation,” Carl answered,” I honestly haven't a clue, I think we'll just have to play it by ear.”

  After twenty minutes they realised that that was to be the way. Trial and error. More of the latter, Carl suspected!