14. THE BIG BANG

THE CASE OF MERCURY RISING, 14

I scowled at Sandy Grimsdyke who was looking around for the owner of the weird speaker. But Mercury Rising’s voice was everywhere, coming at us from every direction and impossible to pin-point. The bonus of that is we couldn’t miss its wisdom no matter where we are on the ship, and the downside is exactly the same.

“That’s Blinky,” I said, using the first name that came into my mind even though I knew that it wasn’t because if I used the computer’s given name it might take it as an instruction and wait for the rest of the sentence, “it’s what we call the computer.”

“You’ve got a really advanced computer capable of making decisions, like which gear to be in?” asked a suddenly bemused Sandy.

“Look around you, man,” I said, what do you see in the way of controls for this piece of spaceware? What about a gear-stick if its gears you’re bothered about? A steering wheel, then? Foot pedals, maybe? There aren’t any. That’s the whole point of it being automatic. It’s the computer that drives this ship, and we do as it says, no more and no less, and we can’t override it if it goes wrong.”

Sandy looked at me, then he looked at Angelina.

“That’s right,” she said, smiling that sweet smile of hers, “and one of its most annoying programs is the big bang one. For safety, of course.”

“Safety? What’s the big bang program?” asked Sandy, “I never heard of a ship having a big bang program!”

“Then it’s some time since you were back in Barnsley,” I said, shaking my head whilst inventing futuristic scenarios as I went along. “Things change, you know. It’s the pirates, you see. There are more pirates than you’d believe possible, all hurtling around in orbit ready to leap on to passing strangers and stealing their hardware. These days, there’s quite a lot of traffic going the other way, heading out to Mars and beyond, and they’re all equipped with big bang software.”

“Boss man masser, it’s eight to big bang an’ I’se scared it might crack my chips,” put in Mercury Rising, still almost but not quite emulating an impossible accent.

“What’s it on about? I’m no pirate!” almost shouted Sandy, “I’m just asking in a friendly way for a lift back to Yorkshire if you’ve got space on board, and I see that you haven’t so I might as well bid you tata and go back to my hearth and home...”

“You’ve got a hearth?” asked Angelina, “how quaint!”

“Seven,” put in Mercury Rising.

“And if we don’t register as the same two individuals who took off back home then the big bang software will take over and the engines will go into overdrive, resulting in one huge bang. It’s all down to the thing detecting DNA. It’ll flatten anything within, say, a couple of miles in every direction. Nuclear, it is, real nuclear,” I said, anxious to see our visitor make his way back into his crater and away from our pretended blast area.

“It’s a crying shame,” stammered Sandy, “but I dared say you’re right to take precautions. Pirates have always been scary, Black Beard, and all that. Two miles, you say?”

“At least,” said Angelina brightly, “and we look on it as a bonus because the very last thing we want to do is take the suicide way out, which we’d have to do if we were captured or overcome by pirates. They can be cruel, dead cruel, can pirates, what with torture and worse, raping being high on their list of things to do with women, and being vaporised in a big bang is definitely a better option than being gang-banged by them.”

I chose that moment to black out, inopportune, you might say, but I have no say in the matter, and I staggered back and flopped into my chair before I was completely out of it. Angelina told me afterwards the gist of what happened whilst I was in cloud cuckoo land, and I’ll render it here as best I can.

“What’s up with him?” asked Sandy, backing slowly to the still open door into the airlock.

“He’s in mental communication with the computer,” replied Angelina. “He does it all the time when there are strangers about, and even though we know your name I guess we’d call you a stranger. It’s all part of the big bang process.”

“Five,” intoned Mercury Rising, a dark sound in a quiet space.

“I’ll be seeing you, then! Two miles, you, say, in every direction? That’s an awfully big bang!”

“Nuclear, it is,” smiled Angelina, “it makes sure that everything in that range is vaporised. Precautionary, you know.”

“Even downwards?” he stammered.

“Oh, most certainly downwards. The epicentre makes sure of that. It vaporises everything for at least two miles in a downwards direction, and probably further if the rocks are porous like they can be. Just to make sure the pirates don’t get hold of stuff they wouldn’t be able to understand and end up doing innumerable nasty things with it.”

“I won’t be cadging a lift with you, then,” stammered Sandy as Mercury Rising intoned “Four and a Half.”

“That’s a shame, I don’t think,” whispered Angelina to herself, and I found myself re-emerging into the light of day, my unwanted trip to a black world of darkness coming to a very welcome end. And I was just in time to hear, “I’ll be going, then,” said Sandy.

He pulled his visor down and made sure that the seal that prevented his air being lost was in place. “It’s been nice seeing you, buddies, but I’ve got a woman waiting for me by my hearth and she’ll be getting impatient.”

Then he made his way back into the airlock, and Mercury Rising slid the door slid shut behind him, again with speedy enthusiasm.

“That was a little something I wasn’t expecting,” I said to Angelina, my voice groggy after the blackout, “I certainly didn’t expect to bump into a Yorkshire man on the moon and If I did I didn’t expect him to threaten us until we offered him a lift and squeezed him in.”

“Mercury Rising, has he gone,” asked Angelina, and the monitor showed him stepping out of the outer airlock door which was closing behind him.

“Gone and not forgotten,” replied the computer with what almost sounded like jollity, “and some impressing lying, if I may say so, from you two. But a few fibs, according to master Igor, or a little bit of stretching the truth, is better than a bullet in your back!”

“Mercury Rising, take off and continue your course before we were interrupted by the Yorkshire Kid,” I ordered, “and we’ll have a full debate on the merits of truthfulness when we’re safely in the black of space!”

“Yes, Masser boss-man, we’s off!” grated the computer’s artificial voice.

“And thanks for suggesting the big bang argument,” said Angelina, “it was clever of you!”

“I is a clever computer,” chortled Mercury Rising, “and then, in its more normal voice, “we’re on our way. This is going to be the longest part of the journey by far, and it might get a bit monotonous. I suggest you play some of your bedroom games as often as you can, just to wile away the time...”

“You know what we do?” gasped Angelina, blushing.

“I try not to look,” the voice teased, “but there’s something else you ought to know before you go to sleep...”

“And that is?” I asked.

“We’re still being followed. And now I’m absolutely sure it’s of terrestrial origin. I just hope it’s not a nuclear bomb gone astray!”

© Peter Rogerson 26.02.20