The Ultimate Inferior Beings (4 page)

“That’s correct, cap’n!” said
LEP gleefully. “I’m so glad you noticed. Most people don’t.”

jixX shoulders sagged even
further. What could be worse than a computer with a wit-box?

“I have two, in fact,” LEP
was adding. “One’s a backup.”

jixX opened a few drawers in
the main control desk in the hope of finding an operating manual or something
similar.

“So, ready for lift-off?”
asked LEP suddenly.

“Already??” asked jixX. “Is
that the time?”

“Countdown about to start.”

jixX looked about him. “But
what about the crew? Am I doing this alone?”

LEP gave a little laugh. “No,
no,” he said. “You have a fine crew of three. They are currently in suspended
animation in the Frigidaire Tempofrost Hibernation Tubes.” Then, after a pause,
he added, “You could say they’re chilling out.” LEP chuckled to himself.
“That’s a little joke, cap’n.”

“Very little,” agreed jixX.
“Tell me, LEP. Do any of the crewmembers possess sufficient electrical
knowledge to, say, remove a wit-box or two?”

LEP chuckled some more. “Not
with their skill sets.”

“And what would their ‘skill
sets’ be?”

“Er, let’s see,” started the
ship’s computer. “Firstly, there’s fluX the behavioural chemist. Then we have
twaX the carpenter. And last, but not least, anaX the gynaecologist.”

jixX’s eyes narrowed. “I
see.”

“Each is an expert in his or
her chosen profession,” continued LEP.

“I don’t doubt it. And have
any of them ever flown on a spaceship before?”

“Let me see,” said LEP,
checking his files. “According to my records, none of the crew has as much
flying experience as you, cap’n. Which, I guess, explains why you’re the
captain and they’re not.”

jixX nodded. “Maybe it’s
because I’m new to this job, LEP, but those professions don’t strike me as
being terribly relevant.”

“Not relevant??”

“Let’s take the behavioural
chemist,” started jixX, speaking calmly and patiently. “What ‘skill set’ does
he bring to the mission?”

“He’s a scientist,” said LEP
after a hesitant pause. “Technical knowledge, analytical skills, eccentricity
bordering on madness... er... rotten dress sense...”

“A carpenter?” continued
jixX.

“Ah, yes,” said LEP more
confidently. “Ship’s carpenter. Every ship needs a carpenter.”

jixX looked around the main
control room for any signs of wood, but all he could see was the little that
was in the thin trunk of his dwarf spruce. Indeed, it was a curious fact that
there were no mature trees on Tenalp – something that affected jixX’s own
profession. He often wondered how Capability Brown might have fared on this
planet.

“Gynaecologist?” said jixX
finally.

“Another key crewmember.”

“Is he.”

“She.”

“She,” echoed jixX. “And in
what way is a gynaecologist key to this mission?”

“Er, in case any member of
the crew is in need of... er... any gynaecological assistance?” offered LEP.

“Yes, of course. That would
be the reason. Thank you, LEP. And she’s the only female on board, right?”

“Er, yes,” said LEP.

“That sounds perfectly
sensible, then. I can see it’s been carefully thought out.”

*

jixX strapped himself into
the anti-inertial command couch as LEP prepared for countdown. The closer it
got to lift-off, the harder his heart pounded. Beads of sweat appeared on his
forehead. He kept wondering what he was doing there.

“Ten...,” boomed LEP’s voice.
“Switching on phonon-drive plasma compressor. Warning: pressure low.”

jixX looked up in concern,
gripping the sides of the anti-inertial command couch.

“Nine... checking
microbe-feedback life support system. Beep. Insufficient backup nutrients.”

jixX’s grip tightened, and he
opened his mouth to say something.

“Eight... Activating fissile
fluid wave generators, error on generator 3. Shutting down.”

jixX’s eyes widened in mild
panic, all his worry lines suddenly visible.

“Seven... Cutting in Lagrange
multipliers. Seem okay.”

jixX relaxed a little.

“Six... Engaging partial wave
reactors; major fault on reactors 3, 4 and 7. No power.”

jixX’s tension returned.

“Five... Locking on SCN8-4
coords for phase stability. Warning. Beep, beep. System showing signs of
chaotic behaviour.”

“Shouldn’t we abort
take-off?” asked jixX, his panic now severe.

“Four …,” continued LEP,
undaunted. “Confirming equilibrium of neutron surface charge density. Er...
unable to confirm.”

jixX’s eye was caught by a
furiously blinking red light on one of the control panels to his left.

“Three... Energizing stasis
field. Catastrophic failure.”

The red light was joined by
several others.

“Two... Decoupling
synchro-symmetric momentum node. Major malfunction. Major malfunction.”

Now trembling, jixX turned to
his right and encountered more blinking red lights and a cluster of flashing
warning signs.

“One... De-ionizing thermal
antineutrino emission bands. Overload. Repeat, overload.”

jixX could now smell smoke.

“Zero... We have lift-off.”

“We do??” said jixX looking
wildly about him. “But what about...”

The rest of jixX’s sentence
was lost as The Night Ripple started juddering and shaking on the launch pad,
its phonon-drive tubes groaning and creaking as they slowly, painfully pushed
the ship up from the surface of the planet. The juddering and the shaking
seemed to go on for an eternity, and it was all jixX could do to hold on to his
seat. His potted spruce seemed to be trembling in terror on the main control
desk. But within a few minutes, the shaking lessened and The Night Ripple
headed into space – into the darkness, into the icy vacuum, and into the
unknown.

jixX suddenly realized there
was no turning back. He took a deep breath and swallowed hard to prevent his
ears popping.

PART THE
SECOND: THE NIGHT RIPPLE

Chapter 1

The
lights went
on
in the Cryothermal Potentiozombic Cold Storage Room and the crew were gently
roused from their deep-frozen sleep. One by one the glass cocoons swished open
and a small bell went “Ding!”

The first to emerge,
shivering, was twaX the carpenter, small and wiry, with features so boyish that
he was often mistaken for a twelve-year old. On his nose he wore a pair of
broken spectacles, inexpertly mended with sticking plaster, and behind his ear a
pencil stub. He looked shifty and nervous, but that was probably just the cold.

Next came anaX the
gynaecologist, raven-haired and beautiful, with a proud air about her. She
exuded the sort of hard-edged beauty that terrified men. Already twaX trembled
in her presence, although again that was probably just the cold.

Finally, fluX the behavioural
chemist emerged, wearing a white lab coat. He was the eldest of the three and
looked every bit the scientist: long, white, dishevelled hair, a pair of
crazed, bulging eyes and a set of wildly mismatching eyebrows.

LEP gave a little chuckle.
“You look like death warmed up.”

There was not a flicker of a
smile on their faces, still stiff with cold.

fluX the behavioural chemist
was the first to speak. “Vot ze...?” he said, tapping the timepiece on his
wrist. “My votch has stopped! It still says 12
^th
March.”

“That is correct,” said LEP.

fluX looked puzzled. “Vot
year is it?”

“Same year.”

“How long have we been
frozen?” put in anaX the gynaecologist.

“One hour and thrity-five
minutes.”

All three stood,
open-mouthed, trying to absorb the information.

anaX was the first to react.
“What?!?” she thundered.

“Hey, chill,” said LEP.
“Sorry, bad choice of words. Look, rules are rules. And...”

“And what?”

“There are various ways of interpreting
them.”

“Meaning?”

“Nothing,” said LEP. “Look,
you’re warming up already!”

twaX the carpenter gave an
involuntary giggle and the others glared at him.

“Vat do ve do now?” asked
fluX, blowing lukewarm air into his numb and bluish hands.

“I’d recommend the ship’s
common room,” said LEP. “Nice and warm in there. You can relax in its congenial
surroundings and convivial atmosphere until the captain comes to meet you.”

The three looked at one
another and shrugged.

“Where is the common room?”
asked anaX.

“Second door on the left,”
said LEP.

Without exchanging a word,
the three crewmembers trooped out of the Cryothermal Potentiozombic Cold
Storage Room and into the corridor outside.

The second door on the left
opened onto a broom cupboard. Their initial bafflement soon turned to a much
stronger emotional response.

*

LEP was helpfully giving
directions to jixX, too. “Captain’s cabin. Straight down the corridor, turn
right, up the stairs to the third floor and it’ll be right in front of you.”

jixX nodded. He picked up his
jacket from the back of the command couch and headed down the corridor. After
no more than five paces he came across a door on the left marked: ‘CAPTAIN’S
CABIN’. He frowned. Surely there weren’t two captain’s cabins?

“Isn’t
this
it?” he asked
LEP, pointing at the name-plate.

“Hmm, certainly looks like
it,” answered the ship’s computer.

“So what were all those
directions you gave me about?”

“Er, short-cut,” said LEP
with a little cough.

“The directions you gave me
cannot possibly lead to this door,” said jixX evenly.

“Try them.”

“No,” said jixX, unamused. He
turned the handle of the door, but it was locked. “It’s locked,” he said.

“Yes, security,” explained
LEP.

“And where’s the key?”

“No key. Just say ‘Open
Sesame’.”

“Very funny.”

“I’m not kidding. The door
has a highly sophisticated voice-recognition system.”

“If this is a joke, LEP...”

“No joke. Scout’s honour.”

“Alright then,” said jixX
doubtfully. He looked mistrustfully at the door. “Open Sesame.”

Nothing happened.

“I’m warning you, LEP.”

“You can’t expect it to work
first time,” protested LEP. “It doesn’t know your voice yet.”

“So what do I do?”

“Just repeat the command a
few times and I’ll program it to recognize you.”

jixX sighed, feeling his life
ticking away.

“Open Sesame,” he said. “Open
Sesame. Open Sesame. Open Sesame.”

“Once more.”

“Open Sesame.”

There was a slight click and
the door creaked open.

Not bothering to hide his
surprise, jixX entered the cabin. It was not an impressive room. Largely bare,
it contained a bunk bed, a desk, a chest of drawers and a dusty bookshelf on
which lay a single tattered and very dusty book. He tossed his jacket onto the
bed and, out of curiosity, picked up the book and blew the dust off. It was:
‘Captaincy for Dummies’.

He turned to the Contents page
and scanned the chapter titles: ‘Introduction and Historical Survey’, ‘Your
First Steps: Cadet to Commander ‘, ‘Becoming a Captain’, ‘Captaining a Yacht’.
About two thirds of the way down was a chapter called ‘Captaining a Spaceship’.
He flicked through the book until he came to the relevant pages, which seemed
well thumbed. Leaning against the desk, he started reading.