Chapter 4
“This is all very well Carl,” complained Pat,” but I could do with a beer, I've got some somewhere, and I'm sick of this piggin room.”
“P'raps we can get your beers,” Carl answered, with a little hope in his voice,” let's see if our machine is about, hey, machine voice, are you around?”
“I am here, can I help?”
“Yes you bloody well can,” ranted Pat,” where's me bloody beer?”
“You mean your red grenades, I presume?” Came the quiet reply.
“It sounds human! You're bloody right, have you got 'em?”
“That's correct, would you want them with you now?” Came back the voice.
“That's an A1 affirmative,” said Pat,” can they be cold?”
“How cold?”
“What do you reckon Carl, not frozen, ay?” Enquired Pat.
“I reckon about 5 to l0 degrees C will do it, can you do that voice?”
“But of course, you don't want them frozen, just as close to it as possible, is that correct?”
“That's the size of it, and by the way,” said Pat,” have you got a name, instead of machine or voice?”
“That has never been required before. I was just addressed and I responded.” Came the voice.
“What shall we call it Carl? How about George for autopilot, cause that's what he is. Our guide.” Said Pat.
“Sounds good to me,” Carl answered,” George, your name is George.”
“As you wish, my name is George, do you need anything else?” George enquired.
“Any rooms other than this canteen, how about a map of the place?” Came back Pat.
“That is a good idea,” replied George,” if you would go to the access hatch I will programme the Junction diagram for you. Simply place the frame on your head, it will adjust to your contours, lower the lenses and earpieces to align with your eyes and ears. You will see a countdown on the lens of 3,2,l, then watch carefully.”
They spotted the hatch as the door raised. There were over 20 of the frames. They were of very thick padded mesh construction, similar to the 'old-style' cycle racing crash hats. There were four small dark glass screens and four earphones.
They placed them on their heads and, as George had indicated, they felt the helmets gently gripping.
Carl lowered the two nearest lenses, he wondered what needed four lenses, and also two sets of earphones.
The screens lit up with 'Ready'.
“Please watch the screen carefully after three and listen to the earphones.” Informed George.
“If he thinks I'm going to remember a diagram of this poxy place, he's going to need his circuits modifying.” Grumbled Pat.
On the screen came 3, with the word 'three' spoken, then 2 (two), then 1 (one), the screen lit up with some patterns. There was an extended 'pop' and the screen lost its colour and light. Silence.
“That's it gentlemen,” came the gentle voice of George,” and your Red Grenades are here.”
“Great,” said Pat,” but what about the diagrams?”
“You have them in your memory, you can find and access any part of the Junction,” came back George,” you can move any controls you find, they will either be de-activated - for your own safety - or operate to your advantage.”
“I don't believe it, there was nothing on the screens,” argued Pat,” and the sound was buggered up.”
“On the contrary, your memories are activated to perform at certain stimuli, you received concentrated stimulation of sound and vision, it doesn't necessarily take a week to learn a fact. It's all in the science of method and stimuli,” answered George,” please have confidence. Should you need more of your 'red' liquid, I can synthesise it if you simply pour about a quarter of a tin down the waste access.”
“If you think Pat's going to pour away good beer, you are mistaken.” Laughed Carl.
“I can assure you, I will return an identical liquid to you, in unlimited quantity, there is no difficulty whatsoever,” George replied,” do you want the toxins and poisons removed first?”
“What bloody poisons,” came back an annoyed Pat,” there's no bloody poisons in any beer.”
“There are quite a few, there are bacteria, preservatives, heavy metals, ketones and alcohol.” Said George.
“Leave the bloody alcohol in there,” shouted Pat,” but you can take the rest out, only on the condition it tastes exactly the same.”
“Of course,” replied George,” anything else?”
“He's a patient bastard, I'll give him that,” Carl murmured,” only one thing George, where do we sleep? Hang on I know where, hey Pat, I know where every place is, how about you?”
“I'm buggered, so do I.” Was the startled reply.
“As I informed you, it is all in your memory. Until tomorrow, eight your Casio time Carl, have a comfortable rest.” Was George’s' parting reply.
“Thanks.” They both answered.
There came the unmistakable 'crack' of a beer can, taken from the top of a small round floater, the top of which was recessed and the inside was pretty chilly. To Carls amazement Pat deliberately poured half a can down the loo, even before taking a swig himself.
“How did George know about alcohol in the beer if we hadn't poured any away?” Wondered Pat.
“We did pour some away, don't you remember, we had an urgent pee. He must have correlated the contents of our pee to the beer. Pretty wild guess on his behalf. Then again, maybe not, God knows how far we were stripped down in that bloody theatre. Bloody must have been the word.” Carl surmised.
“Suppose so,” said Pat,” fancy going to the observation dome?”
“Good idea,” Carl replied,” it's getting on a bit you know, well past my beauty sleep time, but I know we can sleep there if needed. Let's go.”
They took a tube lift up to the dome and were both stunned by the sight of a clear sky, with the huge red sun on one side and the red planet on the other.
It appeared that the Junction was stuck in a set position between the two, because after one hour neither sun nor planet had changed position. The moons were definitely going round the red planet and Carl could make out very slight changes in the position of a couple of stars that were nearly in line with the edge of the sun's surface. The Junction was in orbit with the planet, around the sun.
The dome was all kitted out in the black surface, Carl had seen no other colour anywhere, apart from the operating theatre, and he didn't want to bring that memory back.
The couches they were seated on were fully reclinable to enable the viewer to study the entire visible space from floor to floor, across the dome. The dome itself was in one whole piece, one piece of glass or quartz or some other clear substance about one hundred metres across, it must have been thick to resist the air pressure and what about micrometeorites?
Suddenly the dome glass went pitch black. No light came through.
“Ah,” said Pat,” I did that, hang on I'll try and get it back”
He operated a control on a console, attempting to reverse the procedure. The light came back.
“Ok, got it, I think I'll sit down and leave it all alone.” He said, in a despondent tone.
“I wonder where the people are who built this place.” Carl murmured.
“They must have plenty of spare cash to leave places like this lying about. What sort of bugger could leave it to fade away and all?” Queried Pat.
“Suppose it was easier, or cheaper, to leave it than take it with them. It’s like trying to take a block of flats with you when you move on earth, ain't it?” Said Carl.
“Suppose it is,” said Pat,” bloody shame though.”
“Hey, I'm going to have a kip,” Carl said,” wake us if anyone comes.”
“Bloody right I will, I'm going to try some home-made beer.” So saying, he went to the console, pressed a button and said,” Beer”, and out came a jug of amber liquid. He lifted the jug, which was about half litre size and took a swig.
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“By the Christ, this is nearly the same as the original beer, magic, see you in the morning, sort of thing, when's bloody morning? I haven't got a watch.” With that he flopped onto the nearest couch and slurped at the beer.” Better than bloody Butlins.” Was the last thing Carl heard.
“Hey wake up you bugger, something's arrived.”
It was Pat giving Carl a push on the shoulder.
“What's going on?”
“Four floaters are here, one gave me a shove and woke me up. What's the time?” He asked.
“Well it's Monday, and I reckon I've been asleep for about ten hours. It's one in the afternoon.” Carl informed him.
“Good day Pat, good day Carl, are we ready for our first lesson?” It was George.” I let you sleep on. You were obviously tired.”
“Not until I've had some eggs and bacon.” Informed Pat.
“That is one order I am afraid I cannot give you, but I realise you need sustenance. How are you feeling, apart from some hunger, I am somewhat interested to see how you are responding to the cleansing you received, a most unfortunate method of mine before I understood your feelings.” Was George's reply.
“I'll tell you one thing, that bloody beer is damn good. It's even given me a soddin headache, it must be good. Part from that I feel fine, funny thing is I don't want a fag, that's your doing I suppose?” Asked Pat.
“Yes it is,” said George,” and I am pleased you enjoyed your red grenade, do I call it red grenade or beer? It is most confusing”.
“Beer will do George,” Carl replied, with a laugh,” red grenade just refers to the colour of the can and a weapon we use on earth, a small cylinder that explodes with force when thrown, same as a can of beer, when swallowed.”
“How quaint, just call me when you are ready, and do you feel ok Carl?”
“Haven't felt better in years and thanks about my eyes, it's great not having to wear glasses any more.” He replied.
“You refer to corrective lenses, yes, I saw the damage they had contributed to your sight muscles. You will not need them again.”
“By the way George, you mentioned about infra red and ultra violet sight and breathing water, care to explain what that was all about.” Carl queried.
“Why of course Carl. As both you and Pat knew, you had lost the power to see with your IR and UV nerves, hadn't you?” enquired George.
“We've never been able to see in the IR range and I've never heard of the UV sight possibility.” Carl replied.
“Oh, have I made an error? You had the facility but the nerves were undeveloped, like wasted muscles, impossible to use, I just got them going for you. You can now see, selectively, in the IR and UV bands of light. I didn't realise this was not natural for you, I can reverse the process if you desire.”
“Not ruddy likely,” jumped Pat,” I'll stay with it, whatever it is, and thanks.”
“The 'water' item was where your lungs had lost efficiency and the ability to breathe under water any more. Oh dear, I register from your brain waves that I was again mistaken. You can now breathe water, clean, dirty, or salty, with no ill effects. Is that acceptable to you?”
“Too damn right it is, thanks again, that means I can never drown, this is going to surprise everyone, ain't it Pat?” Enquired Carl, turning to Pat.
Pat didn't reply and Carl suddenly realised that they were in a very odd situation, thousands of light years away from home and, according to George, no easy route back.
“George, are you sure we can't get back home easily? Can't we just aim in the same direction we came from and jump back?” Carl asked, hoping for a good response.
“I am afraid you do not know all the facts Carl, and that is not surprising, you have only been here a short while. You did not come here in one jump. As you understand, and I use your words, we have space and we have hyperspace or the type of space we are in whilst jumping. It is fortunate you read science fiction Carl, I can convert these fictional terms into reality. Do you follow Pat?”
“Load of ruddy gibberish to me, but I get the general idea, carry on.” Grumped Pat.
“In hyperspace we can only travel in straight lines and those lines are distorted by gravity warps and cosmic clouds or the ionised parts of space. For every distortion, and there are many, including stars and planets, we have to recalculate and jump again. That happened when you both travelled here.”
“But it was nearly instant,” argued Pat,” we pressed those switches and we were here, it was one quick jump, as you call it.”
“It may very well have seemed like one jump but it was not. Not by a long way.”
“How many.” Carl asked.
“Do you really want to know?” Answered George.
“Course we bloody do, how many?” Snapped Pat.
“2,740,640 in total.”
“Bloody hell, you sure?” Queried Pat.
“Yes, it was logged.” Answered George.
“So why wasn't the route logged?” Carl moaned,” I know, no way-point.”
“None of the 2,740,640 jumps were waypointed, that is the error you face, you see the crew were dead and the ship was still in malfunction mode when you selected. It is not a surprise you came back here but it is a surprise you were alive, it usually takes thousands of your years to return on the non-directional hyperspace beacon. You were exceptionally lucky to have hit good routes and to have had a good hyperspace navigating module. We are studying the module at this present moment and it appears that in its re-growth it has modified out some irritating problems that we didn't know were there, but they must have been because your module is not of standard growth.”
“So what would happen if we selected these thousands of jumps, aimed where we came from and pressed go?” Carl asked.
“You would end up, most probably, a couple of million light years in any direction, each jump must be aimed. Where would you aim and, consider this, how long would it take to program those thousands of jumps. Even at one minute a time, and that is when you know where you want to end up, it would take years of your time, and that's when you know which point you are aiming at. I don't like to dishearten you but you have to see the facts.”
“We've soddin-well had it, in a word, haven't we?” Said Pat.
“I don't want to admit it but we have. What can we do George, you know, to try and find our way back?” Carl asked.
“Well, it's not a problem I have ever had to consider and I don't have the answer. Maybe if you were to aim in the direction of your last jump, we have that on our own records, we scanned you entering our zone, aim on the reciprocal and keep going until I recognise something like your constellations.” Suggested George.
“You're going to come with us.” Said Carl, in a surprised and pleased voice.
“But of course, I am but a set of wiggly amps and I take up no space, you confuse me with a person. I am none-sentient intelligence, purely a programme.” Said George. His voice held no sorrow for being 'only-a-programme'. That's a computer for you.
“Hey, that's bloody great, will you be able to make the food and beer on that ship.” Asked Pat.
“Of course,” replied George,” weren't you going to have some breakfast?”
Carl looked at Pat, Pat looked back, and with a laugh they jumped up and strode to the console for their breakfast.
“Mushrooms on toast and rare steaks?” Joked Pat.
They were in better heart now. It was a boost to know they had George as a partner.
“I fancy that first meal we had, can we have that one George, and a cup of coffee with milk and sugar?” Carl asked, tongue in cheek.
But believe it or believe it not, with the food was coffee, as real as any coffee you would find anywhere and not wishy-washy, pucker stuff.
“Hang on Pat,” Carl said,” George, got anything like a knife and fork?”
“One minute Carl.” Came the reply.
In less that twenty seconds a couple of comfortable knives and forks appeared.
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nbsp; “Bloody ace.” Said Pat.
“How did you guess that first meal George?” Asked Carl.
“You were scanned for body type and recognised as similar in nearly every respect to other sentient life, the carbon chain. We have the safe foods to cover a massive spread of that life. I chose one with spicy flavour rather than green, if you follow me.”
“Certainly do George, you'll hear from us shortly.” Carl answered.
With that they proceeded to get stuck into the meat and rice, or as near as damn it meat and rice. Carl was much happier now and was quite excited about the thought of arriving home with George and the ship. That started in motion all the doubts of ever finding home. Home was going to be anywhere between Earth and Alpha Centauri, and all the other stars around, George would be able to pull a sky map from their 'brain waves' to fit any position in that area. Space is big but it didn't seem an impossible task, but they had travelled thousands of billion of light years, and that is a long way. Carl glanced at Pat, he was quiet, in a contemplative mood. Although he wasn't married it must be nearly the same for him, just being away from what you are used to. Carl wondered what was happening at home? He expected Kate to be with Debra and Morris with all the Hashes' out in force, scouring the countryside along Jalan Tutong. They were bound to have found their cars, Carls being a 'Company' car as well. That wouldn't have gone down well with the General Manager. ‘No Company cars to be taken on the Hash!’ Well it wasn't, it was just parked on the side of the road.
‘God, what a bloody state to be in’, Carl thought, ‘why, oh why did we have to get in that ship without making sure there was a way out’. Well there had been a way out but how were they to know it would close.
It's very clever to know the answers after the event, after the horse has bolted, but this was a major 'barn door' that was closed in their faces, with a vengeance.
“You should see your friggin face Carl,” said an amused Pat,” it looks as if you have just coughed in you rompers.”
“I don't know whether to laugh or cry, what a bloody state we're in, I can't see any way out, can you?” He asked, hoping Pat would come back with the Esso Road map of the universe and point to Brunei and say, 'Press the button, I've got it aced.'
“Not a bloody idea anywhere in the brain-box, can't see a way anywhere, same as you.” He added.
“You're a right bloody help, you are,” Carl said, and couldn't help but laugh,” but it's good to have you along you stupid bloody Irish you.”
“Piss off Carl,” he laughed as well,” we'll kick arse and get out of this pridhickament in no time flat, I'm tellin you.” The leprocorn in full song.” I've already finished my breakfast, so let's get this show on the road, 'George, where the hell are you?’”
“We are ready, I understand,” said George,” what we will consider first is the ship and its operating controls and then we will have a break and take a physical look at the ship, how does that sound?”
“Ok by me,” Carl said,” what's involved?
“Do you want to stay here or go elsewhere?” George asked.
“Here's as good as any, get on with it.” Flustered Pat, neither of them knew what to expect.
“The procedure is exactly the same as before, the head frames and lenses. They are in the hatch by the console.” Was the info from George.
They wandered over and took out a frame each.
“What had four eyes George?” Carl queried.
“It was a being similar to yourselves in stature but its eyes were on....organ stops? Is that correct? Yes, I see it is. The viewing part of its eyes were actually similar to a prism, each eye looked at a ninety degrees angle away from the other half of his eye. Most unusual but quite efficient. It had a magnificent field of view and it could zoom magnify as well, in fact......”
“Ok George, we get the picture.” Carl stopped him.
“Yes, well, place the frames on the same as before. If you blink whilst watching the screen, which you undoubtedly will, it will not disturb the program. It will automatically roll back and cover that piece again. The input will last a little longer this time, we have a more complex subject. If you are ready, and I see you are.”
Carl noticed he already had the Ready sign on his lenses, the Ready was replaced by 3(three), 2(two), l(one) followed by a mass of straight lines, curves, boxes, arrows, so many at once that the screen was practically solid with them. The sound was very similar to the noise of a very large waterfall, deep white noise that fluted and warbled. Carl was expecting speech and a little man with a pointer. ‘How could this teach anyone a single thing’, he wondered. There was an intense feeling of heat and pressure in his skull. There was no logic or any sequences that he could recognise, only shimmering lines and the deep bass roar.
“Carl,. ... Carl,...are you with us?” It was George. Carl had been day dreaming, with his eyes open, his mind an open sponge.
“It's over for today, I record total success, and your aptitude for the systems is very high. You obviously already had a grasp of the matter and only needed a change of outlook.” He advised.
“George, I knew nothing of that ship before, but now I know everything about it. It's strange to have this knowledge and have done nothing to gain it. What a brilliant learning system,” Carl noted,” how long was this session?”
“It took you both fifteen minutes,” answered George,” but that was long enough, you will need a full 24 hours to absorb, adjust and come back to normal electrolyte level. It was a massive input.”
“It feels a bit foggy up there, I must admit,” commented Pat,” but only fifteen minutes. It seemed like hours.”
“Why don't you rest or do whatever you wish, I am always available but we cannot carry out any more input for now. Does that suit you?” Asked George.
“That suits us fine, what do you say Pat?”
“Ok by me, we'll give you a call if we need you George.”
“Very good, rest well.”
“Tell you one thing Carl, I've got a flat arse, let's take a wander to the hanger, see what those mice things that George mentioned are.” Suggested Pat.
“Can't argue with that. It's down two levels.”
“And first left,” said Pat,” yes, I've got the map as well.”
“Right.” Said Carl.
The down two levels meant using lift tubes, there are no stairs on the Junction. A tube is just that. A hollow tube that you step into, one is for down and the other for up. No arrows to indicate which, they just knew. The speed of travel is about walking pace which, they knew, changes to twenty miles per hour on emergency call. That must be hairy getting off!
“Down there and into the corridor, doors opening, how nice.” Said Pat.
They walked into the hanger. It was now a blaze of brilliant light, amazing when you consider the light was coming out of solid material.
“Where the hell's it gone?” There was a worried note in Pats' voice.
With good cause. There was no ship, it had completely disappeared.
“I don't believe it, George, where are you, where's the ship?” Carl shouted.
“It's above you, respectively, on hanger deck two.” Came George’s reassuring voice.
“Oh be-Jesus, I'm goin to fall over.” Qualmed Pat.
Above them on the ceiling, some one hundred metres away, was the ship, with loads of scurrying 'mice' around it.
“I can't get used to this. That explains those seats on the ceiling of the ship.” Said Carl.
“It was only sensible to use both surfaces, not logical to have one empty.” Came George's calm voice.
“We can't fall up there can we?” said Pat, now holding Carl's sleeve,” let's get out of here, I don't trust it.”
“We'll go down, or up, to the other deck and look at it from there, I must admit I'm having difficulty coping with this feeling of height, as if I'm hanging from the ceiling but my feet are down,” Carl was having a problem explaining it to himself, let alone putting it into words,?
?? this is all part of the learning curve Pat.” As they left and made their way to the tube.
They were happier seeing the ship on the same floor as themselves, even the tumbling experience as they prepared to exit the tube. They both looked up, wondering what they expected to see.
The ship was not a ship at all. There was only a framework of dull shining H girder-like beams that followed a horseshoe curve.
“Where's it all bloody gone?” Wondered Pat.
As if in answer, a large and heavy looking pipe or tube affair began to move towards the hanger wall. They could see the 'mice' now, all different shapes and sizes, quietly floating pieces away. They followed the tube, which was a good 3 metres long and one metre in diameter. It passed through a doorway, which stayed open for them to pass through, and then they were in a massive workshop. The workshop was worse than the hanger. There must have been twenty different levels, going up, but not a single floor or support for anything. It was all in the hover.
“Bloody hell,” Pat staggered back, with Carl moving back with him,” I wouldn't work here if they paid me in gold bars, and I wanted to see what they were doing. Let's get out of here before someone shows us!”
They both turned in unison and beat a very hasty retreat back into the hanger, nearly beating the doors in opening.
“They are welcome to that,” Carl said,” did you see the size of those pieces, just hanging there, with us stood under it all. I've gone all goosey, how about a beer?”
“Now your talking sense, bollocks to this crap, make with the booze.” Said Pat.
They made hasty work of getting where they were going, back to the dome and a half litre of ‘Astro’ beer. Pat was right, it was damn tasty and welcome relief from what, at first sight, should have been a simple viewing of the ship. It could wait until it was back together.
“Pat?”
“What.”
“George said we'll have a look at the controls tomorrow.”
“So?”
“Did you see where the pilots console was?”
“Oh Christ.”
“George!”
“George!”