phil jones2 (29 page)

The system ran as smooth as butter now that the new graphics card had finally been installed. He quickly clicked through to his local bank and found that his ISP payment had been rejected. Not because his regular stipend hadn't been enough to pay it but because it was now free of charge as the earlier phone call had suggested.

Now that Phil had solid digital evidence to back up the phone that he mistrusted at the best of times, the uncanny reality of these lucky occurrences reasserted themselves in full. There was no way any of this could be circumstantial, not to someone as unfortunate as himself.

Casting aside his concerns for the time being, Phil decided to indulge in some quality time in his favourite online world. The latest patch was downloaded almost instantaneously by the launcher and much to his satisfaction the next thing he knew he was sucked in.

Even he had to admit that it wasn't the most fruitful or exciting voyage he'd ever navigated with his keyboard. It was that time of day when all the usual players were heading to bed and all the recluses from the other side of the world had yet to wake up. Still, to him this was a good thing in so much as it prevented him from wasting hours at a time completely engrossed.

He was hunting deer for the sheer fun of it when he spotted another player approaching him upon the horizon. Their movements were strange and erratic, as if someone were controlling them after a heavy bout of drinking. There was no doubt about it though, they were definitely heading in Phil's direction.

Phil finished off scavenging a previously reluctant piece of venison and cautiously approached the newcomer. They were a particularly low level upon inspection and had no rights being in this zone, had they got lost?

'Hello!' they typed, and started an impromptu dance on the spot.

'Can I help you?' Phil asked after they had ceased their movement.

They didn't respond immediately, causing an awkward staring contest to begin between the two avatars. Phil was about to stop wasting his time and head elsewhere when the next message finally came through.

'We're coming for you Phil, but you need to get out of there. They know that we're on our way.'

Phil blinked, an action not reflected by his own avatar which stood staring at this newcomer with the same blank expression. 'Who are they? Who are you? What are you talking about?'

'It's Annika, we're on route to Earth and I knew that I'd find you on here eventually. I have no other way of contacting you and it would appear that Star Command has gotten wind of our betrayal and plans to beat us to you.'

'Star Command? I thought you worked for Star Command? I don't...'

'Please, just listen, Captain.' Annika interrupted. 'We don't have time to discuss this, they could track us down at...'

With that the avatar was gone, and Phil found himself alone in a field. Judging from what he had just heard he didn't think it was connection problems that had caused it.

He stared at the screen blankly for a moment before scrolling through the conversation history, his head trying to register everything he had just read. Why would Star Command be after Annika? Was it the whole crew that was involved? It became very apparent that he would have to leave very soon indeed, lest someone track him down before the crew could.

A knock came on the door that sent a chill through him, had they arrived aleady?

'Who is it?' he called out hesitantly, trying to compose his voice and failing miserably.

He was greeted by nothing but silence, which only served to increase his sweaty palm issue. Were they going to break the door down if he didn't answer? Phil suddenly had images of an armed SWAT team descending upon his apartment and felt his heart trying to escape his chest in protest.

The knock came again, this time slightly more insistent. Surely if it was the armed men of his imagination they would have been more authoritative than this?

'Who is it?' he asked again, shocked to find irritation in his tone rather than fear.

'Me, señor Jones. Forgot key!'

Phil stared over at the key bowl and discovered there was indeed a second set of keys there. Letting out a sigh of relief he crossed the room and unlocked the door to let the cleaner in.

It was amazing how quickly a homely and diminutive old woman can be transformed when armed with a gun and pointing it in your general direction.

'Someone has been receiving messages they shouldn't have been, Mr. Jones.'

Phil stared down the barrel of the loaded gun and promptly wet himself. 'What do you want from me?' he managed to squeak, his eyes fixated on the hovering death mere inches away.

'The Human Genome folks were most keen to let you live in indolent peace, controlling your every whim by sating it immediately and having you forget all about your little space journey. It would appear that certain others had a different idea, and for that intrusion you must pay.'

In some tiny detached part of his head that wasn't screaming, Phil couldn't help but notice that in addition to looking distinctly unlike a cleaner, the accent had completely shifted to the tones of a stone cold killer. Not that this observation was going to do him any good of course.

'I haven't done anything!' he finally wailed, realising that this probably wasn't the most heroic thing to say.

The woman gave him a look of disgust and her finger started to ease its way further down the trigger.

Then the phone rang, and she froze. It chirped away merrily, completely oblivious to the tense life-or-death situation that surrounded it.

She tipped the gun slightly to the left, refusing to let it leave its target entirely. 'Answer it.'

Phil slowly crossed the distance to the phone and picked it up in his shaking hands. 'Hello?'

'Hello there Mr. Jones! It's Terry Stevens here, from the gym?'

Phil nodded, before realising that he was on the phone.

'Anyway, I was wondering if you had a moment to discuss something really odd that happened to me the other night.'

He gulped, realising there was a small window of opportunity here, no matter how crazy. 'Sure Terry, what is it you wish to discuss?' he replied, staring directly at the increasingly sour-looking woman.

'I was minding my own business and cycling home from work when I think... I think I was abducted.'

Phil tried to keep the surprise off his face and failed miserably. 'What happened?'

'I know, it sounds crazy. There was this big light and then I remember being in this weird fluid and these guys telling me to cancel your gym subscription, imagine that?'

He stared at the gun and smiled nervously. 'Yeah, imagine that.'

'Well, anyway.' Terry continued, oblivious to the situation. 'I was wondering if this had anything to do with all that talk of yours about being ready for something. Is some government agency after you or is this all just one crazy dream that I had?'

Realising that his answer would determine whether he would get shot or not, Phil chose to extend his life that little bit longer. 'That's some crazy dreaming you've been having, Terry.' he replied, forcing a chuckle that stuck in his throat and descended into spluttering. 'There's no government after me and no secret conspiracy.' he managed, continuing to stare at the Agent with the loaded gun. 'I'll catch you over at the gym later, until then!'

He set the receiver down with a positive chime as it entered its cradle and then continued to stare at his fate in silence.

'Now, slowly make your way toward my position with no sudden movement, we're going to take a little trip back to the Human Genome research station.'

Back to where Hanniman and the rest of his cronies were, back to the people who had used him as a human guinea pig.

'But what if...'

'No words!' the little woman hissed, aiming the gun a little lower. 'They simply want you alive, they didn't specify in what condition.'

Phil knew enough of physics and biology to determine that the gun was aimed squarely at one of his kneecaps. He suspected that this nice lady wouldn't miss should he open his mouth again.

'Much better. Now be cooperative and make your way toward me and I'll try and make this as painless as possible.'

She backed toward the door and kept the gun trained on Phil, as if for some reason she expected him to transform into some detached killing machine should he leave her sights. He suspected she could have battered him to death while pretending to be his cleaner if she really wanted to, so to Phil's mind all this gun play seemed unnecessarily terrifying.

Then something completely unexpected happened.

A loud bang resounded and the next thing Phil knew his assailant was on her back outside his door. She had tripped over the pizza, now was his chance!

He rushed forward, heart pounding and arms waving frantically before him like ropes made of jelly. Slamming the door shut he firmly locked it with shaking hands and then realised the mistake he'd made.

There was no other way out of the apartment, and a very angry assassin on the other side of a temporarily locked door.

A thud came on said door and Phil started to panic, looking about him for any possible means of escape.

Only the window presented itself, even he knew that three stories from ground level was a recipe for a Phil Jones-shaped pancake.

Then the phone rang. Again.

He juggled it between his shaking hands as it bounced out of its cradle, eventually scooping it up from the floor and answering breathlessly.

'Phil? Is that you?' came the voice of Annika.

'Annika!' Phil cried. 'I'm trapped in my room and there's a crazy woman on the other side of a locked door and she's going to take me to the Human Genome people and there's a window but it's too high and I don't know what to do!'

At least, that was what he was trying to say. The resultant single word would have devastated even the most expert of scrabble players had it been viable or even playable, given that it probably would have gone something like anniamqtrappenmroahthazzzoomaothovvsahhhandshh... you get the idea.

'Phil, I've triangulated your position and scanners indicate that you're trapped. I need you to make your way to the window and jump.'

A thud against the door caused Phil to whimper down the line to Annika.

'Captain, you need to make your way to the window, now!'

A bang went off outside the door and caused it to swing open, revealing the woman with the gun once more. Phil dropped the phone and then dimly registered what it was that his Lieutenant had been trying to tell him.

He wasn't naturally inclined toward sprinting, but the numerous visits to the gym had certainly helped matters. Dashing in the general direction of the window, he let out a yelp and heard the crack of the gun go off once more.

A searing pain engulfed his left shoulder and brought him to his knees, she had shot him!

Something changed then, some fundamental primal instinct within Phil reasserted itself after this pain had been inflicted upon him. He snarled in anger, completely unaware of anything but the window and this woman's attempts to prevent him. Picking himself up, he heard the whistle of a bullet fly past him and dove directly at the glass with every ounce of strength he had left.

The window shattered into a thousand pieces under his force, even double glazing couldn't contain him as the frame began its unenviable journey with him out into thin air. It was then he realised his terrible mistake.

Gravity reasserted itself in timely fashion, and he plummeted toward the pavement below to the sound of screaming that was growing increasingly loud. Fortunately he had kept his eyes firmly screwed shut so he didn't have to witness his impending meeting with the ground below. He still screamed like a baby.

Except that this falling to his death business was taking an awful long time to happen. His life wasn't flashing before his eyes and there was no great epiphany or pearly gates greeting him either. What was going on?

It was with no small degree of hesitancy that Phil Jones finally opened his eyes and stopped screaming. Then started screaming again.

He was flying over the city, watching the blocks beneath him crawl about like some urban version of Tetris in constant motion. Such a sight would have been awe-inspiring had he been attached to a parachute or a hand glider. Floating in mid-air suspended by nothing he could think of made the scene far less appreciable. So instead he screamed.

'Captain!' a shout came from above him. 'Look up!'

Phil craned his head in the general direction of the voice and spotted the ship, a small ramp detached from it and he also noticed RJ's calm smile attempting the impossible task of reassuring him.

'Quite the predicament you were in back there, Captain!' RJ yelled, working away on come kind of device attached to the ramp. Phil realised what it was as soon as he started to rise. 'Looks like the new grappling hook worked a charm though!'

Inch by inch, Phil was raised up until the platform was within touching distance. He hugged it gratefully and refused to budge for a full minute before RJ started to close it up.

They had come for him, they had actually come for him. Annika and RJ and the rest of the crew, they had saved him!

He rose to his feet and promptly remembered that he had been shot, his knees felt like jelly and refused to support him any further. He sank down into the cold embrace of the deck only to have RJ bodily carry him in the direction of sick bay.

'Welcome back, Captain Jones.' RJ said.

It was the last thing he remembered.

Chapter 35

Brine! Tennis! Cheesecake!

H
e awoke to a strange beeping noise and the glare of a light that wasn't too bright and thus did not perpetuate his previous fright. Looking around he discovered that the noise was coming from a machine that had been attached to his arm and the light was the reassuring glow of the sick bay. He was on-board the ship, safe and sound for the time being.

'Wakey wakey, rise and shine, before I douse the equipment with brine!' came a voice that could only be described as perfect for toy commercials.