A Toaster on Mars (23 page)

‘There goes me breakfast!' Goyle rasped.

Blake struggled against the g-force. He fought to push himself off the wall, but the ship was accelerating too fast for him to make any headway. One of the seats broke off and speared towards Goyle. Nicki caught it.

‘Thanks, missy,' the captain grunted.

‘It's Agent Steel!'

The whine of the engines lessened and Blake felt
the g-force subside as they all slid to the floor in an untidy heap. The parrot ejected more plastic pellets onto Blake's head.

‘That bird doesn't like me,' he grumbled, climbing to his feet.

‘His name's Columbus,' Goyle said. ‘Named after an ancestor.'

They stumbled over debris to the front window.

Goyle pointed excitedly. ‘Here we be!' he cried. ‘Mars!'

The red planet loomed below. Two centuries ago it had been a cold, red ball in space, but now it was a mottled green and crimson sphere with water covering half its surface.

‘Can you see Badde's ship?' Blake asked.

‘It be on the sensors! Straight ahead!'

The
Star of Fire
appeared. It was very close to the pale blue atmosphere.

‘He's preparing to jump to sub-light speed,' Goyle said.

‘Can we stop him?'

‘I can fire on his engines.' Goyle hit a button and a joystick appeared from the console. ‘I wasn't expecting a fight, so I'll have to compromise.'

He fired on the
Star of Fire
.

They watched the projectile arrow through space.

‘Captain Goyle,' Blake said. ‘Is that a cabbage?'

‘Necessity is the mother of invention,' Goyle said. ‘Or something.'

It slammed into the rear of the other ship and they saw a brief flash. Goyle let out a triumphant cry.

‘A direct hit! That's taken out their sub-light engine!' he yelled. ‘They'll not be going anywhere fast.'

The ship veered towards the planet.

‘He's landing to make repairs,' Nicki said. ‘Maybe we can—'

Everything went dark. The console displays faded, the engines stopped and the lighting failed. It was like being in a coffin.

Even the parrot died and fell off Captain Goyle's shoulder.

‘
Columbus!
'

Goyle scrambled to resuscitate the mechanical creature.

‘What the sprot's going on?' Blake demanded.

‘Dead!' Goyle wailed. ‘Dead!'

Blake grabbed him. ‘Forget the parrot!' he yelled. ‘What's wrong with the ship?'

‘There be nothing wrong with the ship!' Goyle shook him off. ‘Some sort of pulse has wiped out all our power.'

The Super-EMP!

‘Nicki!' Blake turned to her. ‘Badde must have fired the—'

But Nicki was frozen. She was like a statue, stuck in the very instant of leaning forwards to speak.

‘Everything electrical is fried! Destroyed!' Goyle sobbed. ‘Including Columbus!'

The EMP had knocked out—maybe even destroyed—
every circuit in the ship, and Nicki as well. Blake reached over and touched her hand. Earlier she had been warm to the touch. Now she was stone cold, the bright blue spark in her eyes gone.

Blake peered through the windscreen. The
Rancid Cat
was still heading towards the planet. If they didn't turn around, they would burn up in the atmosphere.

‘Captain! We've got to change direction!'

‘Dead! Dead!' Goyle appeared traumatised by the death of the parrot. ‘Life be not worth living without—'

Blake slapped him across the face. ‘Listen! We're going to die if you don't take control of this ship!'

The words seemed to bring Goyle around. Wiping away his tears, he lurched back into the captain's chair and started stabbing controls.

‘Can you restart the ship?' Blake asked.

‘I can't perform miracles,' Goyle said. ‘The helm won't respond, the engines are shot—'

Mars now filled the window.

‘It's getting very hot in here,' Blake said.

‘We're going to burn up.'

‘Surely there's some way to restart the engines or adjust our descent?'

Goyle stared into the distance. ‘Aye,' he muttered to himself. ‘That's it.'

‘What's it?'

‘The manual override in the engine room can adjust the angle of the wings.'

‘Which means?'

‘I'll be able to manoeuvre the ship.'

‘So we can land on the surface.'

‘It won't be easy,' Goyle said, climbing from his seat. ‘Those controls haven't been moved in years—'

Blake glanced back at Nicki. If this didn't succeed, he'd never see her again. While Goyle dragged piles of rubbish away from a hatch, Blake reached out and touched her hand again.

‘Thanks,' he said. ‘For everything.'

Blake went with Goyle down the hatch to a room that seemed to double as the engine room and kitchen. The air was stifling.

‘We've got minutes before we burn up,' Goyle said, pointing to a crankshaft in the middle of the floor. ‘You've got to pull back on the crank.'

‘Me?'

‘I've got to helm the ship.'

Goyle disappeared back through the hatch as Blake grabbed the control. ‘How far back do I have to pull it?'

‘I'll tell you when to stop,' Goyle yelled.

Blake grasped it hard and pulled. Nothing happened. He dragged back on it with all his might until he felt his face growing red.

Nothing.

‘It's not moving!'

‘Have ye disengaged the brake?'

Blake looked down and cursed. He pushed a lever aside.

‘Try again!' Goyle yelled.

This time the crank moved begrudgingly towards Blake. Sweat ran down his face and into his eyes. The ship was shuddering and the heat intensifying. Smoke poured past the window.

‘More, lad! We need another twenty degrees on the column or we're dead.'

Sprot
, Blake thought.
It's now or never
.

He applied every bit of force he could to the lever. It was slippery with his sweat, but somehow he clung on. His whole body shook with effort.

‘We need another fifteen degrees!' Goyle cried. ‘We're burning up!'

Blake had used up every last bit of strength he had, but now he saw the control mechanism inching back towards its starting position.

‘The air resistance is pushing it out of alignment,' Goyle screamed. ‘We're finished! Finished!'

Blake thought of Lisa.

He applied every last iota of strength—and for the briefest of moments he was able to stop the lever from moving back into position. Then, heartbreakingly, it started to draw away from him again as smoke filled the cabin and the interior began burning up.

That's it
, he thought.
I've done my best, but we're done.

I'm sorry, Lisa.

Then a golden hand reached out of nowhere and grasped the shaft.

‘Will someone turn on the air-conditioning? This heat is destroying my hair.'

‘Nicki!'

She grabbed the shaft with her other hand and pulled.

‘I thought you were dead!' Blake said.

‘That EMP didn't do my circuitry any good,' Nicki said, as she pulled back on the shaft. ‘But my human side was able to initialise my cybernetic repair protocols. I'm only operating at twenty per cent, but I'll be right as rain in a week.'

They turned their attention to the shaft. With Nicki's assistance, the lever started to pull back again.

‘We need another seven degrees,' Goyle screamed. ‘Come on, ye landlubbers! Pull back, blast ye!'

‘I knew we should have thrown him out the airlock,' Blake muttered.

‘There's still time,' Nicki said.

‘Five degrees…four degrees…three…' Goyle paused. ‘That's it! The wings are level! I've locked them.'

The control stick loosened in their hands.

‘We're gliding,' Goyle cried. ‘We've done it!'

Exhausted, Blake and Nicki made their way back to the bridge.

‘So we're saved,' Blake said, grinning. ‘We're going to live.'

‘No,' Goyle said. ‘We're still finished.'

‘
What?
'

‘All we've done is adjusted our angle of pitch,' Goyle
said. ‘I still need power to land.' He slammed his fist on the console. ‘We're as dead as a dodo.'

‘You boys are forgetting my electrifying personality,' Nicki said, reaching behind her hair and pulling out an extension lead. ‘Where do I plug in?'

A few minutes later, Goyle had the ship restarted and the engines operational—or what passed for operational. The vessel shuddered and weaved, but that may have been Goyle's usual manner of flying. The
Rancid Cat
came in to an untidy landing on the edge of a red hill.

‘We've done it again,' Goyle said, patting the control panel. ‘We're still the best ship this side of Qualargus Prime.'

Blake and Nicki exchanged glances.

‘Don't say it,' Blake said.

‘It's not worth it,' she agreed, turning to Goyle. ‘Do you know where we are?'

‘Robot lass, we're on Mars.'

‘That's Agent Steel,' Nicki said, through clenched teeth, ‘and can you be a little more precise?'

‘We're very close to the bilge rat.'

‘Is that a pub?' Blake asked.

‘No! It's the slimy pirate you've been chasing,' Goyle explained. ‘Bartholomew Badde.'

‘What? Where is he?'

‘His ship's about three miles east of here. There's also a building nearby, some kind of bunker.'

‘Badde could be at either location,' Nicki said.

‘Then we need to split up,' Blake said. ‘Nicki, you go to the ship. I'll take the building. Goyle, you stay here.'

They started for the door.

‘How will we stop Badde?' Nicki asked.

‘I wish I knew.'

Blake breathed in deeply as he made his way up the ancient riverbed. A million years ago the ancient waters of Mars would have run freely along this channel. Now it was bone dry. On both sides, low-lying shrubbery dotted the dusty plains. A single tree sat on the horizon.

Rounding a hill, he saw the building, a rectangular concrete structure without windows, and a door at one end. Goyle had been right in describing it as a bunker. If it was a home, it was the most unhomely home Blake had ever seen.

Nearing the building, Blake climbed from the riverbed. A dam, thirty feet across, lay next to the building. Martian land was cheap, but water was precious. Blake peered at the dam. Feldspar had said the suit failed in water. If he could get Badde into the dam, he might be able to stop him.

He wondered how Nicki was faring. She would be at the
Star of Fire
by now. Blake tried raising her on his wristcomm, but got only static.

Badde's probably blocking the signal
, Blake thought.
At least I've got the element of surprise.

‘Ahem.' A voice came from behind Blake. ‘Are you looking for me?'

Okay
, Blake thought.
Maybe I don't have the element of surprise.

36

Badde was dressed in the phase suit. It shimmered slightly in the light of the red planet.

Blake pulled out his blaster. ‘Where's my daughter?' he demanded. ‘Where's Lisa?'

‘She's back at my ship. No doubt your robot has already retrieved her.' Badde shrugged. ‘Never mind. I'll get to them once I've finished with you.'

‘You're under arrest.'

Badde laughed. ‘Really?'

‘Yes. For robbery, kidnapping, extortion and…' Blake tried to think of more charges. ‘…for being very unpleasant.'

‘You can't arrest what you can't touch.'

‘We'll see about that,' Blake said, pulling the trigger.

The stun blast passed harmlessly through Badde and ricocheted off the embankment behind him.

Blake turned and ran.
The dam's only twenty feet away
, he thought.
If I can reach it—

Bang!

A shock of pain ran through Blake's left leg. He felt as though he'd been hit with a baseball bat. His leg gave way and he went sprawling, blood pouring from a wound. Badde held an old-fashioned weapon in his hand.

‘It's a revolver,' Badde explained. ‘A gun from ancient Earth that fires a metal projectile.' He started towards Blake.

Blake struggled to stand, but fell. He dragged himself along the ground, Badde following sedately behind.

‘I'm rather pleased you survived my little diversion at Moxy's Diner,' Badde said, conversationally. ‘It's more appropriate that you should die at my hands. The greatest evil genius the galaxy has ever seen should duel his nemesis to the death.'

‘You are the greatest criminal the galaxy has ever known,' Blake grunted, trying to play for time. He was almost at the water. ‘After all, you're responsible for the bank robbery on Tarzus Four.'

‘No, I didn't do that one.'

‘The jewel robbery on Sigmus Nine.'

‘Uh, uh. Not me either.'

‘What about the heist on Garbus Twelve?'

Badde's face brightened. ‘That was me!' he said.

The cold water of the dam was almost within Blake's grasp as Badde grabbed his left leg and dragged him backwards.

Blake screamed in agony.

‘Sorry,' Badde said. ‘Did I hurt you?'

Blake rolled over and made a desperate grab for Badde, but his hands passed through him. It was like trying to hold on to a ghost.

‘I know all about the suit's weakness,' Badde said, nodding towards the dam. ‘That little problem with water. How frustrating it must be for you. Salvation being so close at hand, yet so far away.'