phil jones2 (50 page)

The guard frowned. 'It's a weapon, not a reactor. How's it going to go critical?'

Trigger tapped the name plate on his coat pocket and feigned an importance that he didn't feel. 'Who is the scientist here, hmm?'

The guard mumbled something that didn't sound very complimentary but relented with his inquisition. Apparently Trigger had guessed right and the scientists were afforded more importance than the military personal on the station. The doors unsealed themselves and slid open to reveal the weapon.

It was a huge cone-shaped device that pulsed rhythmically in time with some strange stalk-like things with big glowy orbs atop them. He had expected a large gun with a computer panel on the side or something, instead he was greeted by something that looked like it came straight from a 50's science fiction flick. Trigger hadn't the faintest idea how he was going to disable this thing.

'Well? Are you going to go in?' the guard asked, growing more suspicious at Trigger's gawping.

Not needing any more prompting, Trigger paced his way in, trying his best not to run as the double doors closed behind him, resounding ominously and sealing him in there with the device he was supposed to sabotage.

'Now what?' he muttered to himself, nerves starting to get the better of him in this enclosed space. Where were the other scientists?

'Ah, there you are!' piped up a high-pitched voice from the centre of the machine. 'Just the man I was looking for.'

Trigger stared at the talkative machine aghast, not knowing what to say to the weapon.

'Well? Don't just stand there, come up and give me a hand with this!' a bald head peered over the edge of the main cone and beckoned him up a ladder which was swaying dangerously under the man's lack of balance. 'Never could get these things right.'

'Couldn't get what right?' Trigger asked, trying to sound as normal and routine as possible.

'Ladders. They're a real nuisance, but they don't allow the jet packs in here. The energy interferes with the machine's operation, causes it to go hay-wire.'

'Yeah, of course it does.' the Ensign in disguise replied, starting to piece together what it was he had to do. 'Where do they keep those jet packs anyway?'

'Why, they're located in a storage not that far away from here. I'm sure one of the guards would be able to show you where it is.'

This proposition didn't fill Trigger with anything but dread, but he tried his best not to let the alarm show on his face. 'I don't suppose you could show me where this storage compartment is, could you?'

The scientist stared at him as if he were mad. 'You want me to get off this accursed thing and walk you all the way to the storage compartment so you can stare at the jet packs?' there was an edge to the voice that indicated to the Ensign that this most certainly wasn't an option.

'Okay, I'll go ask the guard instead.' Trigger said, turning back to the doors and hoping they would let him out again.

'Hey... Hey!' the Scientist yelled behind him, clearly unhappy at the lack of assistance rendered to him with regards to the stabilisation of the ladder.

Trigger hoped he fell for all he cared, making his way back through the mercifully opening doors to speak to one of the guards stationed beyond. The man stared at him in confusion, given that he had just gone in there less than five minutes ago.

'As Junior Scientist I have been sent on a mission to acquire a jet pack.' he stated in as officious a voice as possible. 'You are to assist me in acquiring one for the delicate work that needs to continue if we want the weapon to be fully operational when the Voravians arrive.'

The guard shrugged, clearly not pleased at having to take orders from someone as insignificant as Trigger but not overly bothered at being given the opportunity to stretch his legs.

'So what do you need the jet pack for?' he asked as they walked together down the winding corridor. 'Seems a bit of an odd request from one of you scientist types.'

Trigger froze on the inside, his feet making a remarkable effort to keep moving forward and his face refusing to betray that he was terrified of the man seeing through his wrinkled too-large uniform and discover the would-be captive masquerading within. 'I... that is... it's much too complicated to possibly put in words that you'd understand.'

The guard smiled back at him and Trigger offered him a nervous smile in return. 'This might surprise you, but my dad was always a very keen amateur Engineer, so I picked up a lot of stuff that you guys take for granted as out of our range of understanding.'

Oh crap.

'So you really want me to explain why we need the jet pack then?' Trigger tried not to whimper.

The guard nodded at him amiably. 'If I don't get it, I don't get it. It sure beats standing there like an idiot no wiser to what you're doing in there though.'

For all his fears and the terrors that assailed him, Trigger's mind operated best when it was put under an undue amount of pressure, which resulted in the following pouring out of his mouth:

'The reverse flux capacitor is de-stabilised by the Neutronium base inherent within the weapon's gravimetric compensator. The innards of one of these jet packs allows an alternative power flow to regulate this in order to reduce the inherent risks of compensation during the weapon's firing cycle.'

He stopped for a breath after this lengthy diatribe and waited for the sceptical guard to shoot a hole in him.

'Yeah, that seems about right. Clever thinking.' the guard remarked, and continued walking.

'What? I mean, yes, it is.' he quickly added.

'You were right, I don't understand a word of what you just said. Looks like you Engineers work on an entirely different level, it sounded like absolute gibberish to me.'

Trigger nodded, his extremities feeling numb at the shock of that actually working. 'We sure do.'

They stopped at a sliding door that didn't look any different from the dozen they'd already passed. He knew in his heart of hearts then that there was no way he could have found this by himself.

The guard wandered into the darkened room and there was the sound of rummaging.

'Is this what you were looking for?' his arm said as it shot out of the room, holding what looked like nothing more than a white backpack. Trigger wouldn't have been able to find that even if he had found the room, it was a fortunate stroke of luck that he'd been able to convince this man.

'That looks fine.' he said, realising that the hanging arm of the guard was awaiting a response.

The rest of the guard appeared from the dark and the door shut behind him. 'It's an older model, but it checks out.' he said, blowing dust from off the slightly yellowed surface. 'They keep them in storage and I doubt anyone would be fool enough to use them.'

'Why wouldn't they be used any more?' he asked, trepidation creeping into his tone against his own wishes.

The guard chuckled. 'I guess this is more my area of expertise than yours. If someone were to try and fly this thing they'd probably make it a few meters before it exploded. You weren't going to try that though, were you?'

'Oh...' Trigger replied.

This produced outright laughter from the man now. 'You scientist Engineer types crack me up with your jokes.'

Yes. Jokes.

'How do you even fly such a thing?' he asked as they wandered back toward the weapon.

The guard pulled up the slightly yellow pack and clicked a button on the side. Two wings and arms sprung out of the pack, causing Trigger's heart to jump. Fortunately his legs were on auto-pilot.

'That's pretty much it, you just hit the ignition button and that's it sorted.'

Trigger offered his thanks to the man, who seemed very amiable for a person on the bad guy's side. He reminded himself that it hadn't been that long since he was on that side too. He hoped that in saving the world from the Voravians that they weren't condemning hundreds of innocent people to death. Better than billions he guessed, fortunately it wasn't up to him to make those decisions.

Before he knew it he stood by the doors that led into the room with the irritating scientist. All he needed to do now was activate the jet pack beside the weapon and hope for the best, right?

The doors slid open, and the scientist was in much the same position as he left him, trying to fiddle with things atop an impossibly tall ladder that wobbled threateningly.

'Ah, you're back! Good, now help me with this damn... wait, what's that you've got in your hand?'

Trigger stared down at the back pack, he hadn't thought this through.

'That looks awfully like a...

Trigger kicked the ladder.

He then checked the man's pulse. He was out cold. He really didn't want to hurt the man but what choice did he have?

He ignited the jet pack and nothing happened.

Well, that's not true in the strictest of senses. The jet pack hummed happily to itself and bobbed up and down, waiting for an occupant to take it on a trip somewhere. There was a distinct lack of nothingness that came from the weapon. It continued pulsing away to itself as if completely unaffected by the jet pack that the scientist had so direly warned him about.

Well, that was a big let down. He stared down at the scientist he had incapacitated, hoping that the man was okay. Violence wasn't really within Trigger, and he felt guilty about his actions so far even if he was saving the world.

Then one of the large round pulsing things exploded, sending shards of glass all about the room. This was followed in short order by the other one, which the computers about him greeted with a shrill alarm sound.

Realising that any second now there was going to be a lot of guards pounding at the doors and asking what was wrong, Trigger decided to take the initiative.

'Computer. You know those little arrows that led me here?'

'Voice pattern not recognised, information supplied will be on a limited basis only. Yes.'

'Can you show me the way to the shuttle bay with those arrows?'

A reluctant pause followed. 'If you insist.'

'Thank you!' Trigger said, his gratefulness entirely unforced.

'Have a nice day.' the computer informed him, somewhat mollified by the appreciation in spite of the lack of security clearance for the voice.

The arrows lit up on the floor, helpful as ever. Now Trigger had to divine a way to somehow get past the guards without their catching him.

He found himself staring at the jet pack.

Oh no.

A knock came on the door, quite a firm one too. 'I'm hearing alarms.' the muffled voice said. 'Is everything okay in there?'

'Computer...' Trigger asked, afraid of his own voice as he formed the words. 'If I was to get on the jet pack and fly out of here, would you open the doors for me so I don't crash and die?'

A long pause again.

'You were a very polite stranger, so I shall allow you to not crash and die.' the computer informed him, shortly before the doors opened.

Trigger jumped onto the controls of the jet pack and started soaring about the exploding weapon. Lurching left and right and up and down in no given order, he felt sick to the pit of his stomach and completely out of control. Fortunately the small analytical part of him assumed control over the panicking twitching of limbs and forced the jet pack to guide him directly at the double doors.

He really, really hoped that those double doors would open.

The computer was true to its word and they shot open just in time, as did the second set to prevent him being trapped in a room with a very surprised set of guards. Now it was a matter of following the arrows and making sure he didn't run into that wall that was approaching at great speed.

He yanked the controls at the last second, feeling the tips of his toes scrape the side of the bulkhead as he tucked them in and span off down the corridor. The whining of the jet pack increased, clearly audible over the roaring of its engines. Getting out of here was all very well and good, but if he was strapped to an explosive then it wouldn't matter where he went.

The few pot shots that various startled members of security managed to get off at him were ineffective at the speed he was travelling, and his instinctive twitching this way and that was the only thing that saved him from being pulverised on a number of occasions.

Just follow the arrows and everything will be okay, just follow the arrows and everything will be okay.

His body autonomously followed the frenzied suggestions of his brain this time, and he noticed that as he grew closer to the bay the arrows got bigger and consequently easier to see. There was a giant one up ahead that pointed to a large set of doors that didn't look like they were going to open any time soon.

'Computer!' he wailed. 'Open the shuttle bay doors!'

'There's no need to raise your voice.' the computer replied, seemingly put out at the tone of address. 'I might not open them now, that was very rude of you.'

Trigger took a deep breath and closed his eyes. 'Computer, would you please kindly open the door for me so that I don't die? Thank you.'

'Much better.' the computer informed him sweetly over the sound of the doors opening. 'Have a nice day.'

He flew into the huge bay and was disorientated by the sheer amount of space he had to not crash and die. Now he just had to figure how to turn this damnable thing off without it...

'Trigger, down here!' came the call of RJ. The pilot was stood on the ramp into the shuttle beside two considerably incapacitated men.

'The controls aren't responding!' he screamed back in sudden realisation. 'I can't get down!'

As if to emphasise the point, the back pack took him higher into the room, to an altitude that eliminated all possibility of falling to safety.

'Just wait for it to get lower again and then let go of it!' RJ shouted back up at him, now flanked by Captain Jones, who looked as if he was coated in jam and had just spotted a hornet's nest.

Trigger just about caught this, as the jet pack had decided to turn itself into a roller coaster minus the rails. 'What if it doesn't come back down?' he asked, fearing the worst.