Chapter 9
Carl had to admit to being more than a little appre-hensive about the whole caper that they were embarking on. He would never have considered attempting anything in the slightest 'dodgy' on safe old Earth, yet here he was in the middle of space on a mission. It was all too much to absorb in the heat of the moment. What had come over the two of them to put themselves in so much peril?
They knew nothing of what lay ahead, had not even contacted the owner of the pleading voice. Pat thought it might alert the captors to their presence and the last thing they wanted was to be met by a band of power-shooting heavies.
So they were then, in total ignorance of the terrain, the attitude of the people, the structure of this 'planet', in fact everything. They had no clear plan as to what they would do when they landed. In all it could be a major cock-up. Carl was only pleased they had their shields and jump modules. It made him totally confident, in the event of a sudden escape being necessary.
The activation of their personal jump modules, to escape a situation, was a complicated affair. They could either manually activate with the finger-press method or, with a simple procedure, programme the module to jump on an 'instinctive' nervous response. They were both very dubious about that. You can just imagine dropping a book or plate on your foot and the next thing you disappear back to Shadow. George was adamant it didn't operate like that at all. The trouble was he couldn't explain how it did operate. If they didn't know how it responded, 'instinct-ively', how could they be trusted to programme it? They decided that they would only put that programme 'live' if a bad situation was in the offing, Carl was pleased about that, because if Pats' went 'off', so did his! It could give you a heart attack or cause you to have to change your trousers!
Their suits were in harmony with travel speed, auto-matically, they stayed together at both speed and distance apart, which was about one metre, side by side. A confi-dence building companionable distance.
The planet's atmosphere was pretty close now. They were five hundred miles from the terra-firma and so they brought their speed down, 'notch-by-notch', until they entered the atmosphere at two thousand miles an hour. It was an unusual entry, according to George. One second they were in space, the next in atmosphere, as if they had passed through the surface of a plastic bag. Neither Carl nor Pat felt it at all.
Carl attempted to breathe in and found some difficulty but it was possible.
“You are on a dead set course for the point of transmission,” informed George,” and you will land at approximately midday.”
“Yes we know George, if you remember we have our Huds,” Carl remarked,” or had you forgotten?”
“Just a bit of information for you and no, I had not forgotten?” Came a somewhat aggrieved George.
“It's coming from that town, or city, which means we've got to come down somewhere close and, sort of, walk in,” commented Pat,” wonder how they are dressed. We could stand out like sore thumbs.”
“That's a fact,” replied Carl,” but don't forget that they might not even be of human build, how about that wood, or whatever it is, over there.” Pointing in the direction he was referring to, they were now two miles up and moving along at 200 miles per hour.
“Looks ok to me,” agreed Pat,” now we find out about a planet without mass.”
They cruised down to the woods, which was a little yellow in colour with not too much green, aiming for about a hundred metres in, they could walk out, again, by instinctive control. They sort-of angled themselves this way or that, or felt like going down or stopping, and the nerves recorded these muscular inputs and relayed them through the shield filaments to the jump module and they went 'that way' and gently landed.
“Oh dear,” complained Pat,” there ain't a touch of gravity, we'll have to keep driving into the ground to stay down.”
“Bloody queer this is,” Carl commented,” I still don't know how there can be no mass.”
“Maybe they're in a stand-still jump mode,” said Pat,” like Shadow during a jump.”
“That's not so bloody daft either,” agreed Carl,” what do you think George?”
“I'm afraid not,” replied George,” I register no outputs like that.”
“I'm registering a bloody force field,” came a slightly panic stricken voice,” all around us.”
“We're stood on one,” said Carl, looking down,” It's the ground. Why put a force field on the ground?”
“Stop the worms being eaten by the early birds.” Said Pat, in a lighter mood. He had obviously realised there was no need to panic, they were safe.
“The force fields around us are these trees,” Carl said, having walked rather awkwardly to a tree,” It's the surface of the tree, must be all the trees. Any ideas George?”
“I am at a loss to suggest a reason,” was George’s reply,” I suggest you carry on to the transmission site.”
“Bloody hell,” came Pat's annoyed voice,” It's worse than being drunk, with this lack of gravity. Me feet keep getting left behind.”
Pat was a sight, walking with a thirty degree forward tilt, then a thirty degree backwards tilt.
Carl stumbled into a tree, bounced off and knocked Pat horizontal, the trees appeared to be of regular non-yielding wood.
“Get the hell out of the way Carl, you drunken sod,” Pat blurted, righted himself and walked straight into a tree,” oh shit, I'm never going to get this. How about this Carl?”
Pat was halfway up the tree, still walking.
Carl was pretty helpless himself. He was standing with his face barely a foot from the ground.
“The grass looks just like Earth’s,” he informed Pat,” bet you didn't know that”.
“I do know one thing, we've got to get the hang of walking steady or we're going to be in trouble.” Replied Pat.
“What's the going-bit, we are in trouble.” Carl added.
They got themselves organised and carefully and deliberately began walking between the trees. There were no weeds or brush in their way, just pleasant yellowish grass. After leaving the wood and heading across a clear grassy-type plain, they managed to co-ordinate forward thrust with leg action.
Five minutes of walking in large circles, stopping and starting, and they were ready to take on the town. There were lovely birds flying everywhere that were a bit of a pest but very colourful, with graceful gliding flight.
“Right, let's get this bloody show on the road.” Came a positive Irish accent.
They headed directly for the town, making a beeline for the transmission.
“The transmission has ceased voice mode and is now only a monotone signal,” informed George,” I think the person responsible knows you are there.”
“How could he know that?” asked Pat.
“I don't know.” Said George.
They were now on the outskirts of the town, not a very big town, more like a medium-to-large village with very regular looking square houses. They had joined a road, of sorts. It was glass smooth and shiny clean. They dodged onto the grass whenever a vehicle came along. The vehicles were lovely shapes. Plenty of low Cd factors and very design conceptionist as well.
The occupants of the 'cars' were normal humanoid, which was a relief, with rather featureless faces, white to very slight tanned appearance. They were dressed in smooth normal clothing of various colours. Both Carl and Pat fitted in quite well.
“Hey,” alerted Pat,” the transmission's moving towards us.”
They were walking beside some houses with low walls surrounding gardens with multicoloured flowers bursting everywhere.
Sure enough, it was. They stood still, about fifty meters from a crossroads, noting that the 'transmission' was only a quarter of a mile away.
“Maybe it's from a car.” Carl offered.
They waited but the transition was pretty slow if it was a car.
“It's bloody close Carl,” said Pat,” what shall we do, hide?”
“I don't think that'll help. He or they,
or whatever, knows where we are anyway. We might as well wait here.”
They had only a couple of minutes to wait and then the transmission walked around the corner. It was a man about six foot six inches tall and he was transmitting a lovely beacon. That transmission ended as soon as he realised what the pair were, he stopped in his tracks and just looked. He was, by this time, only about twenty metres away.
He studied Carl and Pat and they studied him.
“Ready for the old voice tricks George?” Carl quietly asked.
“Yes Carl.” Came the, also, quiet reply. This was a bit of a stand-off with no-one moving.
“Let him come to us.” Said Pat.
“Shall we give him a week and then move?” Carl asked.
The answer to his light-hearted question presented itself to them. Their quest moved towards them stopping when they were two meters apart. He was quite a fit looking figure of a man and well dressed, a bit like the Shadow crew, in a very dark green outfit, ski trousers and a skin-tight long sleeved shirt with no collar or cuffs.
He spoke. The only trouble, there was no sound, not the slightest noise. They leaned forward but didn't hear a single thing.
“Speak up mate.” Retorted Pat.
The Io local stopped 'talking' and gave them a questioning look.
He couldn't hear them either!
Carl then realised that whilst they had been stood there, at least four 'cars' had gone past. They made no sound either.
“There's no sound on this place,” Carl blurted to Pat,” there's no sound George”.
“So I understand,” came George’s reply,” the transmission carrier wave has started and, wait, here is sound.”
By relay through George and in time with the locals lips came his voice.
“Good day to you both and thank you for answering my plea for help. I do not understand what the problem is. I could not receive your voice.” The Io said.” We have to correct this. Do you understand me?”
“We do.” They both said at the same time.” I don't understand the problem either,” Carl continued,” why is there no sound or mass on your planet?”
“But there is,” the Io replied,” this is not my planet. I am not here.”
“He's bloody raving mad,” said Pat,” you didn't broadcast that did you George?”
“Very nearly Pat.” George replied.
“What do you mean you are not here. We are and so are you, that's pretty obvious,” said Carl,” we are looking at each other.”
“Yes you are, but not on my planet,” the Io answered,” I am here where you are but I am not here, you see?”
“I can see the problem he's got,” remarked Pat,” he's stone bonkers mad and has sent out a hoax message.”
Carl couldn't help smiling. This was a ridiculous situation and they just had to get to the bottom of it.
Another Io local was on the path they were on. It was a younger man and coming towards them. Carl pointed behind the Io, who wasn't there, and he moved over. The approaching local drew abreast and greeted 'their' Io, they total silence and was answered in total silence. He then greeted Carl and Pat, in total silence, and they both said, ”Morning”, together.
He gave them a very queer look and walked on.
“What the tossin hells goin on about here?” queried Pat, now a foot off the ground. It didn't phase the local at all.
“My name is Rint,” he exclaimed and stuck out his hand,” I am so pleased you could come to our help.”
Carl shook his hand. It was definitely there. So did Pat.
“He's covered by a force field.” They both said together.
The local was looking at his hand. The one he had used to shake theirs with.
“You are real people,” he murmured,” I was so worried you wouldn't be. We are saved.”
“Not yet you're not,” said Pat,” if you're not here, how can we help you?”
“But that is the whole point,” Rint said,” what are your names please?”
“Forgive us.” Said Carl, and they introduced themselves.
“It is because I am not here that I need you to save me from.” Said Rint.
“I'm going out of my tree,” said Pat,” can we get a beer here, or has that all disappeared as well?”
“There is no sustenance of any kind here. Not on Io.” Rint explained.
“How do you get food and water then?” Asked Pat.
“Food and water, or sustenance, is given to me and all the people automatically, we are fed all the time, together.” Rint replied.
“If there's no sustenance here how do you get fed then?” Carl asked.
“Oh, we are not fed on Io.” Was Rint's reply.
“That's it, I've had it. He's as daft as a coot, let's bugger off and leave him.” Said Pat.
“Don't go Pat, you haven't released me yet.” Was the excited response from Rint.
There was no doubt about it, either Rint was as crazy as a coot or there was some point they were missing.
“Can we find somewhere to sit, a cafe' maybe?” Carl requested.
“Yes, there is one just round the corner,” came the delighted reply from Rint,” follow me.”
With that he turned around and strode off. They did their level best to keep up with him, bouncing off of the wall and each other and missing the right turn, nearly being hit by a 'car'.
The cafe' door was open when they arrived, held open by Rint, and there were a few people at tables. They sat at a table by the window.
“Great, I'll have a coffee.” Said Pat, whatever on Io 'coffee' would turn out to be was anyones guess. Rint ordered in a silent voice.
The waiter was very efficient, they had their coffees within twenty seconds. Rint had one as well.
There was nothing in the cups.
“Hey,” called Pat,” where's the coffee?”
The waiter had not heard a thing, of course.
“In the cup.” Said Rint.
They both put their fingers in their cups. Bugger all.
“Carl, Pat, I have it.” Said George.
“That's more than we have,” said an aggrieved Pat,” my bloody coffee’s the weakest this side of the NAAFI.”
“This is a constructed world. There is no planet here, no people, no mass, nothing but constructed visions, constructed force fields.” Was George’s information.
That would explain everything. Even now, Carl had accepted the force fields on the cup, the table, and the chair, as being normal. Normal it was, for this 'world'.
“You have it George,” Carl said,” why the hell didn't we think of it before. No wonder Rint says he isn't here, he isn't, only his construct.”
“Thank God for that,” Pat added,” I was in danger of going mad myself. So you're not here then Rint, right?”
“Correct,” Came Rint's cheerful reply,” Can you help me?”
“Well,” Carl began hesitantly,” if you are not here and we agree you are not. Where in fact are you?”
“On Io.” Replied Rint.
“He's getting me going again.” Said Pat.
“Rint, listen carefully. You are not getting the inform-ation we need, across to us. Where is the real planet of Io and where is the real Rint?” Carl asked, as carefully as he could.
“If he says on Io I'll brain him.” Threatened Pat, but there was a pause.
“Yes, I can see I have not helped you very well,” said Rint slowly,” it is very difficult to separate Io from Io. You will have to take me to Io. I can separate into another Rint and come with you. Do you agree?”
“That will be alright,” said Carl,” we need to go and now.”
Rint was up and out of the cafe' before they could finish their coffees, which weren't there. They stumbled and staggered about and nearly fell through the window. Eventually they 'fell' outside and followed Rint. He was heading out of town at almost a run and they were in the construct country within five minutes. The birds were still gliding silently about.
; “Please have patience my friends, I hope I can call you that,” said Rint, in a fellow conspirators voice,” I have to take extreme care in forming myself again. The power charge on my cell could activate an alarm sequence. I have to build slowly.”
They both hung around, literally, whilst Rint went through his duplication routine. Carl imagined the power he was talking about was where all these 'constructions' were formed. The 'other' Rint took just over one hour to materialise. They rested bodily, but mainly mentally, this had been a tough couple of hours, physically and mentally.
“I have succeeded,” Rint informed them,” can we leave at high speed, I do not want you to be noticed. I am not visible to the constructor network.
“If you hold our shoulders,” Carl suggested,” you can match our speed. Lets go Pat.”
This time they left Io at a different rate of knots to that with which they had arrived at. Max non-jump speed.
“I register your ship but realise I must stay with you,” Rint informed them. He could speak normally. But let's face it, he wasn't was he!
Both Pat and Carl maintained silence and it was an uneventful journey back to Shadow, and sanity.
Carl recognised relief in George’s voice when they arrived back. Their comfortable seats were waiting for them, including a plate of steaming nosh.
“Very thoughtful of you George, and what a relief.” Said Carl.
Pat was already lounging down with his dinner. Rint was in a seat near the screen and looking very pleased with himself.
“Whilst we eat, Rint,” Carl suggested,” perhaps you could tell us what this is all about.”
“Very well my friends. I will do my best and try not to become too confused. I am so excited.