Hal Spacejock Omnibus One by Haynes Simon

Author:Haynes, Simon [Haynes, Simon]
Language: eng
Format: mobi, epub
Tags: novel, spacejock, sci-fi, humour, science fiction comedy, series, science fiction, comedy novel, scifi, humor, comedy
Publisher: Bowman Press
Published: 2012-07-16T16:00:00+00:00

Chapter 21

Later that evening, the Volante was in deep space, approaching the planet's designated hyperspace point. Clunk was at the console, making small adjustments to their course. He'd just finished when the lift doors opened behind him. "Good evening, Mr Spacejock. I'm happy to report —" Clunk broke off and sniffed the air. "What's that smell?"

"Smell?"

Clunk turned round to look at him. "Oh my goodness."

"What's wrong?"

"You … er … um …" Lost for words, Clunk could only gesture.

Hal looked down at himself. He was wearing a velvet suit with a white ruff and a pair of trousers so tight they could have been sprayed on. His hair had been liberally oiled, parted in the middle and slicked down, as if he'd shoved his head under a waterfall. He'd even tidied his eyebrows, which gave his face a slightly quizzical look. Clunk stared at the chunky gold chain, the fob watch and the gleaming gold shoes, shaking his head sadly.

"What is it?" demanded Hal.

"I'm not sure. Dementia? Spring fever?"

"Huh?" Hal smoothed a stubborn lick of hair. "You think I just dressed up because we have a passenger, eh?"

Clunk nodded.

"Well, maybe I did. I'm the captain, right? I have to mingle with the passengers, entertain them."

"You'll do that all right," murmured Clunk, staring at the ruff in disbelief. "Where did you —"

"It's style," sniffed Hal. "You wouldn't understand."

"On the contrary, I have extensive training in haute couture." Clunk paused. "Look Mr Spacejock, that woman's done nothing but butter you up since she came aboard. It's so obviously false it makes me want to —" His fingers creaked as he clenched his fists.

"Give it away! If I didn't know you better I'd say you were jealous!"

"I'm what?" Clunk stared at him. "Mr Spacejock, she's putting on an act. I don't know why, but she's up to something."

"All she cares about is this ancient civilisation."

"What are they called?"

"Huh?"

"These people - what were they known as? Were they space-farers? Did they vanish without trace? Did they have fire? Computers? Literature?"

The gold chain rattled as Hal put his hands up. "Whoa, Clunk. Too many questions."

"Not enough answers, you mean," muttered the robot.

Just then the lift pinged.

"Ah, Sonya! Come in, come in!" cried Hal, as the doors opened. "We're just preparing for hyperspace."

Sonya stopped. "Oh brother. Er … you look smart."

"Come and look at the controls," said Hal. "I'll show you how the ship works."

Clunk folded his arms. "Now this I have to see."

"I do hope I won't be in the way," said Sonya as she approached the console.

"Of course not," said Hal. "Come on."

"Ooh, what a lot of lights and things!" Sonya smiled at Hal. "Do you really know what they all do?"

"Red, red, blue," said Clunk, smothering a grin.

Hal flushed. "The manemol flange on the generator needs adjusting, Clunk. Attend to it at once."

"That's going to take some adjustment," said the robot. "The manemol flange is supposed to be on the hyperdrive."

"Just fix it. And I'd appreciate a bit less of the lip."

As the lift doors swept to, Hal turned back to Sonya.

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