phil jones2 (45 page)

A speaker blared into life. 'What's going on out there?' demanded a voice. 'The computer detected a discharge in your vicinity, are you under attack?'

'Negative! Situation normal!' RJ hedged. 'It was a weapons malfunction, nothing to see out here. Carry on.'

There was a pause, as if the speaker was considering the words with great care. 'You don't sound like anyone on duty, who is this?'

'Negative. Situation critical. Er... very bad things happening out here. It's not safe to come out, you are in quarantine.'

'If we are in quarantine, why are the doors not in lockdown?' asked an increasingly angry voice.

'The doors are malfunctioning.' Trigger supplied.

'The doors are malfunctioning by working perfectly?' countered the voice.

'Er... yes, it's very bad out here.' he coughed, feigning illness.

'We're sending a detachment of troops out, if you fire upon us you will be killed. Is that understood?'

'Perfectly.' squeaked the Ensign.

They raised their weapons, and Phil commandeered one of the pistols from a stunned officer. So this was it then, their final stand against the operatives of the Human Genome research station. It was strange, he didn't feel that worried about it at all, if anything he felt quite happy to finally be doing something of worth and value. Light-headed at the prospect of going into battle but ready nonetheless, in fact, he was almost giddy at the idea. Yeah! Bring it on! He would take his chances against these foes and deal with the weapon. Even if they were captured or killed they owed it to the other members of the crew blasting away into the Voravian mothership to get this weapon disabled.

He laughed then, a clear and vibrant sound that seemed to bubble up from his throat, and to his surprise he found the high-pitched tittering of Trigger joining them as they struggled to point their weapons at the door. It was a hilarious situation, the thought that the two of them would be any good against trained and lethal operatives. To their surprise RJ joined them in the laughter, a merry sound that reverberated through the small enclosed space.

Then the laughter lingered, and everything was funny, and he couldn't hold his gun straight. What was it he was meant to be targetting again anyway?

His arm slackened, feeling warm and fuzzy as it dangled by his side. The feeling passed through to his legs and he found himself lying on the floor in fits of giggles, stretched out and staring at Trigger as he did the same.

Then everything went black, which Phil in turn found very amusing indeed.

Chapter 44

Hamster! Saccharine! Bath!

H
e awoke in a comfy chair overlooking a viewscreen that displayed an entire cosmos worth of stars, floating around in some dizzying cosmic ballet. His first thought was that he'd really like a monitor that was that large.

'Welcome back to consciousness, Mr. Jones.' came a familiar voice to his left. Hanniman.

He made a brief effort to struggle against the restraints in the seat and nearly fell out in surprise, he wasn't restrained at all, simply disarmed.

'There will be no need for those kind of measures here.' Hanniman assured him as he walked round into view, he looked completely unchanged from when Phil had last seen him, right down to the white lab coat with dozens of stains upon it. 'I trust that you will appreciate this sentiment and keep things civil?'

Phil looked around him, the room was large and intimidating, the ceiling sloping up and oddly curved as if they were inside a giant computerised hamster ball. 'What happens if I decide otherwise?'

'The automated turrets will make quick work of any attempts on your part to assail me.'

'Indeed.' Phil replied, trying not to think of the potentially gruesome death that awaited him. 'So what happens now then?'

Hanniman played with a small device in his pocket before bringing it out and staring at it. 'Have you any idea what you've been doing since you first left Earth, Mr. Jones?'

'Not really, no. I figure this is the part where you tell me, right?'

The Professor cracked a smile that sent wrinkles shooting out into laugh lines all over his face. 'Oh no, I won't tell you what you're doing here, but I will tell you exactly what it is I am doing.'

He didn't respond to that, seeing little point. From all the movies he watched he knew that his cue to say they'd never get away with it was due a little later.

'You see Mr. Jones, the Human Genome station was originally constructed as a research platform to bring all the greatest minds of the galaxy together under one roof, unimpeded in their plans by governments or wars or border disputes. Then came first contact with the Voravians.'

There was a pause here, and a slight flick from Hanniman's hand indicated to Phil that he was meant to fill it.

'Er... that's bad.'

'Indeed.' Hanniman continued, striding back and forth as he spoke. 'You see the realisation that we were not alone in the world caused a greater shift in our choice of research than any power upon the planet below could have. The general consensus was that the Voravians were a savage and unpredictable race, prone to violence and entirely unsuitable for populating the galaxy. Our brightest minds shifted the focus away from simple domestic improvement and into dealing with matters abroad.'

There was that pause again. 'Yes.' Phil stated into the silence, hedging his bets.

'As a result, we began research and construction of various weaponry and defence capabilities in preparation for the day that the Voravians would assault us on a major scale. The culmination of this project was the weapon that this very station is armed with, all that was left was to lure them here in force.'

'I know.'

'Anyway, the beauty of this plan is that we sent Captain Darwin out to the negotiations and... what?'

Phil suspected he probably shouldn't have said that. 'I... that is... I know already.'

Hanniman's initial shock turned into that same knowing smile. 'So you came all the way here not to assault us but to disable the weapon. You've been working for the Voravians all this time!'

Phil shook his head. 'We were going to disable both the Voravian fleet and the weapon, that way nobody could hurt anybody.'

The Professor had stopped walking and had now returned to a frowning look of confusion, as if Phil was speaking some obscure dialect that he coudn't quite make out. 'You were going to disable us both? Then what did you expect would happen? That we'd just sign a truce and realise what a silly mistake we were making?'

Phil shrugged. 'I hadn't thought that far ahead yet. I figured that if you both couldn't shoot at each other then you'd be forced to talk to each other and maybe you could sort something out.'

The response was laughter, scaling upward into a rather maniacal timbre that suggested its owner wasn't particularly sane. Gone was the smooth-talking analytical scientist and in its place was a raving loony in a coat. 'Talk to them? You actually think that talking to those lizards would do anything but buy them more time with which to destroy us in?'

'From what I heard had it not been for Captain Darwin, my crew would have talked some sense into them.'

Hanniman's hands flew wildly about the place like a scarecrow caught in a blizzard. 'Your crew, your crew! You seriously believe that anything a Voravian tells you is the truth? They lured you in, all smiles and sharpening claws and you think they were going to give you peace? I knew you were a buffoon Mr. Jones, but I never realised you were this naïve.'

Phil stood up, much to his own surprise. 'That's Captain Jones to you.'

The Professor turned wildly, his coat billowing out before him. 'Captain Jones? If you are a such a great Captain then where is your ship? Where is your crew? You are Captain of nothing! You hear me? Nothing!'

Phil had assumed that the role of tyrannical mad man was limited to fiction these days and that no self-respecting operation would place such a person in power. Judging from the dance that Hanniman was performing in front of him he was sorely mistaken.

'Guards!' he bellowed at the doors, ignoring the communications system. 'Take this man away to Star Command, we'll see what Grand Admiral Burroughs makes of all this.'

At this point Phil was expecting a final word, instead he got bodily lifted from the chair and dragged out before he could think of anything to say. As they continued pulling him along the corridor he realised there probably wasn't any words that could have convinced the insane Professor otherwise. He only hoped that Grand Admiral Burroughs was somewhat more amenable when it came to discussing things. Having dealt with the man already he wasn't holding out much hope, instead he spent most of his time wondering where his crew had been taken, and how Smith, Annika and Terry were doing on board the Voravian fleet. At least if he failed and they succeeded then Earth itself would be safe, a noble sacrifice that he would not forget even if nobody else below them knew it had happened.

He was bundled into a shuttle in short order, and the relatively brief trip was spent in silence as none of his entirely unnecessary guards were all that talkative. He should have been flattered really that they considered him dangerous enough to warrant security, but all he could muster was the continual pondering over what was going to happen to the rest of his crew once the Voravians got here.

It all seemed like a dream after his conflict with Hanniman. Star Command should have evoked feelings within him, after all this was the place he had first blasted off from into his ludicrous adventures. None of it seemed important now, all he had left was churning away in vain trying to figure out some solution to a problem too immense to handle. That and the lingering taste of egg-nog that seemed to pervade his mouth more often than not.

There was nothing, zilch, nada. His head was a-flurry but there was no end product, no miraculous idea searing through his skull for him to place into action at the given moment of opportunity. He walked up the corridor obediently as he was led to the office of the Grand Admiral and there was nothing more to it. He suspected at this point that any budding hero would have discovered a way to evade the guards, free their friends and save the day, instead he found himself dizzy and almost incapable of putting one foot in front of the other. Inability to walk man was not the super hero anyone required.

The shining corridors gave way to a large set of familiar double doors that indicated the entrance to Grand Admiral Burroughs' office; Phil had no idea what to expect from the man.

The doors flew open and the sound of engaging music blasted out, the guards flanking Phil looked at each other with a brief moment of hesitation before bundling Phil inside.

'And breathe and stretch and pivot!' came a saccharine female voice, followed by the crash of a heavy object hitting the deck plating with some force.

'Confound it! Pause!' came the voice of the walrus-like man as he rose panting and grasping his desk for support. His eyes widened as he spied Phil's intrusion, and he subsequently stared down at his slacks and sweat-stained wife-beater which Phil admitted didn't make him anywhere near as important-looking.

The woman on the screen had paused in an entirely improbable position, her face half-way between a smile and a grimace with her leg above her head.

'I wasn't aware you were a fan of yoga, Admiral.' he said into the awkward pause.

'I'll have no lip from you, Jones!' the empurpled man bellowed breathlessly. 'There's nothing wrong with a healthy bit of exercise in the mornings, you could use some yourself.'

He ignored that comment, and the guards did not venture an opinion whilst finding the corners of the room.

'Go on then, take a seat.' the Admiral said, gaining some measure of composure as he planted himself firmly behind the desk and tried to reassert his authority.

Phil took the Admiral's advice, there was no sense in being petulant over such a comfortable chair and he fully suspected that the guards would assist him into it if he did not go by his own volition.

'Now, on to the matter at hand.' Burroughs blustered, 'the comandeering of a Star Command vessel is a crime worthy of capital punishment in the eyes of many, myself included.'

Phil reeled in his chair. They were going to kill him? All this technology and advancement and they were simply going to have him executed as if they were back in the ancient times?

'Unfortunately...' the Admiral continued. 'My lawyers have informed me that to do so would most likely cost my position, if not my career. So it is with some regret that I instead must only imprison you for life, but before this you and I are going to have a little chat.'

Realising that there was no way out and that to his relief they weren't going to do away with him, Phil could now say whatever he wanted to the Admiral without any repercussions beyond what was already going to happen. It was strange, he didn't feel frightened or worried in the slightest, just angry at the injustice of it all and ready to speak his piece.

'Yes Admiral.' he began. 'You and I are going to have a chat indeed.'

Burroughs' brows raised, this was a man who wasn't used to the streak of defiance that was evident in Phil's tone. Nevertheless, a wry smile curled around the man's stained and flabby lips, he knew something that Phil didn't and he was going to revel in drawing it out.

'The Professor may have touched on this before, but you have no idea why you are here, do you Jones?'

'The crew were encumbered by that lout Darwin so they replaced him with me.' Phil replied, staring directly at the man's eyes and trying to figure out just what he was keeping from him.

The Admiral laughed, and it wasn't a pleasant one. 'Yes, that's what they would have told you. Heroic Captain Jones come to save the day and somehow prevent the Voravians and Star Command from coming to blows that destroy all of mankind as we know it.'

Phil narrowed his eyes. 'I never thought of myself as the hero. What is this all about?'

Burroughs smiled gleefully. 'All in good time, my dear Captain.' he bit off the last word with dripping sarcasm. 'Haven't you been noticing the changes around you?'