Chapter Nineteen – Back to the Shredder
Carrie and Dave walked silently for a while, Gavin and Belinda following a short distance behind.
Carrie said, “It’s odd, don’t you think? Why didn’t the placktoids take us with them when they left the entrance bay? I mean, they knew we were there. Gavin’s a manager in the Transgalactic Council, and Belinda and I have some kind of status, too. Why did they leave us alone like that? Shouldn’t they have made sure we got out before they closed the door?”
Dave nodded. “Something else is funny, too. Ever since we left that place, we haven’t seen a single placktoid.”
They were retracing the route the paperclip had taken on their way to their first audience with the shredder. The corridors were deserted, the doors they passed were closed, and all was quiet. The deep red emergency light gave the ship an eerie, almost subterranean appearance. Their steps and Gavin’s scrabbling tread echoed from the metal floors.
Carrie turned to her companions behind. “Gavin, why does a placktoid spaceship need lighting?”
Her insectoid manager stopped a moment to rub his hindmost legs together, making a thrumming sound. Dave peered over his shoulder at the bug, and increased his pace.
“Did I say something wrong?” asked Carrie as they resumed walking.
“No, not at all,” said Gavin. “I was expressing approval. I believe the human equivalent would be clapping. I was pleased because I think that may be the first intelligent question I have heard you ask.”
Belinda smirked.
“Thanks,” said Carrie. “I think.”
“You have clearly noted a discrepancy between the placktoids’ construction and their chosen environment. The placktoids are not biological, but mechanical. They are manufactured. In fact, they manufacture themselves. As such, they can select the sensors with which to equip themselves. There are a range of methods they could use to perceive the physical environment other than vision, or vision that depends upon certain wavelengths of light. Many of them do employ several other sensory strategies. The question why they light their spaceships has been asked before by anthropologists. As far as is understood, the best answer is that it is an entirely cultural phenomenon.”
“The placktoids have culture?”
“Of course they have culture.”
“But you just said they’re mechanical. They’re robots.”
Gavin chittered. “You must try to keep an open mind. The English word “robot” hardly expresses the widely ranging functions, intelligence and abilities of the placktoids. The species that originally devised and built them became extinct millenia ago. No one is sure why or how exactly; but since that time, the placktoids have developed a rich and diverse culture of their own.”
“And that includes light worship or something?”
“I do not believe it is worship exactly, though I am not an expert on placktoids. Their planet exists within a binary star system and is constantly bathed in sunlight. Therefore light is normal to them. As many species do, the placktoids construct spaceships that recreate some of the conditions of their home planet. It is what they’re used to; it is what makes them comfortable.”
“Comfortable?” Carrie imagined a huge stapler reclining on a chaise longue. “That’s interesting.”
“I agree. Spaceship design is a passion of mine.” Gavin fell silent. Carrie wondered if he was remembering the incident that had got him fired from his position as a spaceship inspector.
“This is it,” said Dave as they entered a large chamber. Carrie recognised the place. It was lofty and wide and characteristically bare of any instruments or decoration. Dave had brought them to the right room, but there was no sign of the shredder or any other placktoids.
“The commander must have gone somewhere to deal with the attack,” said Carrie.
“Most odd,” said Gavin.
“It must have gone that way.” She pointed to the shadowy end of the room, where a massive doorway gaped. “It wouldn’t fit the way we came. That’s strange. The big ones don’t usually move around much, do they?”
“No,” agreed Gavin.
“Did it go to the ship’s command centre?” asked Dave.
“It is the ship’s command centre,” said Gavin. “Placktoids are not humans. They do not press buttons or consult screens. All communications between them and their instruments are electronic. They only emit sounds when talking with biological species that perceive sound waves.” He walked sideways to the end of the room, disappearing into the dark red shadows.
“Is he going somewhere?” Dave asked Belinda.
“He’s thinking,” she replied.
Gavin returned, walking sideways again. “This situation is both inexplicable and unfortunate. We have no option but to search the ship and find the placktoids. We must facilitate communications between them and the oootoon and seek a resolution to this crisis. It is the only means to our survival.”
“Good luck with that,” said Belinda. “The oootoon refuses to communicate and now it has no reason to. As far as it’s concerned, it’s won, for the time being, anyway.”
“Nevertheless, we must try,” said Gavin. “This way.”
The three humans trailed after Gavin as he set off across the room once more, heading for the cavernous exit. Carrie shivered and rubbed her arms. The temperature was dropping. She wondered where the placktoids could be hiding, if that was what they were doing. When she and Dave had been aboard the ship before, the place had seemed to be filled with them. How could they all just disappear?
Belinda fell into step next to Carrie. “So, I’ve told you a bit about my background. How about you?”
“I just started a new job, actually, as a call centre supervisor.”
“Really? How interesting.”
Carrie thought there was a touch of sarcasm in Belinda’s tone. She stiffened.
“And what did you do before that?”
Carrie listed her various minor, menial and dead end jobs as she looked up at the statuesque beauty’s profile. Her voice became quieter and quieter as she went on. As she finished, Belinda turned to her with a condescending smile.
“Forgive me for saying this, but you know what you said before about being determined to succeed in this job, that didn’t really make a lot of sense. If we get out of this alive, you should resign.”
“What? Why?”
“Can’t you see for yourself? It’s difficult and dangerous, and, to be frank, you don’t seem to know what you’re doing. I’m not sure how you managed to get hired. You need years of experience of talking with people in positions of power to do this job. Negotiating skills, sound judgement, diplomacy.” She shook her head. “I hardly think walking dogs or dressing up to deliver birthday telegrams is what the Transgalactic Council is looking for.”
Carrie flushed and her nostrils flared. She fumed for a few silent moments as Belinda smiled smugly, then the realisation hit her. “Oh, I get it. You’re feeling bad because I beat you in that fight and found a way out of the entrance bay. Thought you’d take me down a notch or two.”
“That’s nothing to do with it,” Belinda snapped. “You were lucky, that’s all.”
“Hah.” Carrie smiled.
“Oh, stop it, you two,” said Dave.
“Hey, she started it,” said Carrie.
“And you took the bait,” said Dave.
Gavin stopped in front of a door. “We must enter each room in a systemic manner. We will start here and work our way through the spaceship as quickly as we can. When we find the placktoids we must convince them to communicate with the oootoon. We do not have much time before the ship drops out of orbit.”