Chapter Twenty-Five – Oootoon Solution
A grinding lurch from the commander drove the four down the corridor, away from the struggling machine. They huddled in a bend, joined in silent thought about how they were going to persuade the oootoon to release the ship.
All except Belinda. She laughed grimly. “Huh, you’re all busily rearranging the deckchairs on the Titanic. It’s hopeless. We left orbit—”
Dave’s punch hit her right cheekbone and sent her to the floor. She sprawled, holding her cheek. “What the hell?”
“Dave,” exclaimed Carrie. Gavin chittered.
Dave rubbed his right hand. “Damn, that hurt more than I thought it would.” He shook out his hand and stretched his fingers. “First time I’ve ever hit someone, and I hope the last. But as for you,” he pointed at Belinda, “you’ve been nothing but trouble since you arrived. What have you done to help, huh? You didn’t listen to the oootoon—I mean, neither did Carrie, but at least she’s a nice person. At least she tries. I don’t think I’ve ever met anyone so rude, arrogant and negative. So if you won’t help, shut up and keep out of the way, and the rest of us just might save your life.” He turned to Carrie. “What’s wrong with you?”
Her eyes were filled with tears and her chin trembled. “Do you really think I’m a nice person?”
“Hey, you just tried to save me from a terrible death at the hands of a rampant item of office equipment. After these two ran away and left me to my fate—sorry, Gavin, but it’s true. Do you think I’m gonna hate you after that?”
“I know, but it’s my fault you’re—”
“Oh stop beating yourself up. We don’t have time for this. We’ve got to figure out a way to make the oootoon listen to us.”
“But it’s too late,” said Belinda.
Dave threw her an angry glance, and she clamped her lips shut.
“I keep trying to think of a way,” said Carrie, “but I can’t come up with anything. I’ve listened to the oootoon so many times now, and it’s just a mass of conflicting voices. There isn’t one representative to listen to or talk to. It’s impossible to communicate with it.”
“But you did,” said Dave.
“What? When?”
“When it had me trapped, you persuaded it to bring you to me, and later you persuaded it to let us go.”
“But, I...yes, I did, didn’t I?” Carrie frowned. How had she done that? Why had the oootoon listened to her? “I don’t know how, though. I just talked to it, shouted at it until I got its attention. Then it did what I was asking. I don’t know why.”
“Perhaps you should try again?” said Gavin. “I doubt there will be any harm in the attempt, or that it will make matters any worse than our current situation.”
“I think he means we’ve got nothing to lose,” said Dave.
Carrie set her jaw and strode, translator in hand, into the entrance bay.
It was a complete mess. At the far end was the gaping hole edged with torn metal, in the right nearest corner the shredder was embedded, surrounded by crushed and collapsing walls, and the floor was strewn with broken boxes and slippery with yellow, liquid oootoon. The remaining intact boxes were scattered everywhere.
Turning the translator on, the first thing Carrie heard was the outraged roar of the shredder, still struggling to free itself from the oootoon that had infiltrated it. As she walked hurriedly away from it, the voices of the spilled oootoon became more distinct. Where are we? What are we doing here? Where’s the rest of us? Oh, thank goodness. How nice to merge with you again. Where are my friends?Carrie guessed that, cut off from the rest of its ocean, the oootoon in the boxes had been lonely. Other voices echoed the sentiment that pervaded the oootoon entity. Where are the placktoids? Let’s get them. We hate placktoids.
The oootoon that had been spilled was reconnecting with the rest of itself. Pools of liquid were moving sluggishly towards other pools. As soon as two made contact they flowed into each other, and the larger pool would continue searching for more oootoon.
Carrie neared the bulge of oootoon in the floor, which was joined to the mass surrounding the ship. She noticed the strong emotions of the voices and their obsession with their task. We’ve got them now. They’ll never escape. Down we go. Back home, we’re going home! Not long now. Curse the placktoids forever. There must be hundreds on this ship. They’ll never take us away again.
A pool of spilled oootoon oozed nearer the bulge in the hatchway. It was striving to make contact. Carrie squatted and put two fingers in the edge of the puddle. She dragged her fingers across to the bulge, creating a pathway for the isolated oootoon pool to merge. Screwing her eyes shut, she listened as hard as she could.
Who’s this? Hooray, we found you. Welcome back. Where have you been? That feels so good. The placktoids took us. It’s some of the ones we lost. So good to have you back. We rescued them. We’ll take them home. Down with the placktoids. Yes, down with the placktoids. We won’t let them take you again.
Carrie turned off the translator. It was impossible to think with the constant cacophony of voices in her head. She circled the bulge, studying it. The captured oootoon pool had slipped in easily and disappeared. No doubt it was mixing with the rest of itself, adding its voices to all the others in the oootoon surrounding the ship.
Carrie stopped, her last thought echoing: Adding its voices to all the others in the oootoon surrounding the ship. She looked around the entrance bay at the still-intact boxes of oootoon. They were cut off from each other and wouldn’t be able to communicate with oootoon in other boxes, pools, or the bulge in the floor. She wasn’t sure how many oootoon voices or thoughts or personalities—she’d never quite figured that out—the boxes held, but talking to only the oootoon in each box had to be easier than trying to communicate with a whole mass of the stuff.
“Get in here, you lot,” Carrie called. “I think I might have a plan.”
A scent filled the air. It was delicious. Sweet, but slightly acrid, like, like...caramelised custard. The outer edges of the oootoon were burning. Carrie realised she was sweating. The temperature in the bay was rising. There was no time to lose.