Alien Caller (63 page)

In short order
he also understood why the building had no windows. It wasn’t a
house. It was a shed. But not a farmer’s shed. What was it Cyrea
had suggested the planet was, an ancient trading post? Well if it
was then these were surely the tools of traders. Cash registers,
wrapping machines, forklifts and the like. They looked nothing like
anything he’d ever seen in a shop or warehouse, but that he was
beginning to realise, meant nothing.

As time passed
and nothing bad seemed to happen, David grew more bold, and dared
to think about venturing inside. Though not before he managed to
find a large rock from his pile of diggings and wedge it in the
door frame. The last thing he wanted to be was trapped inside an
airtight brick tomb.

First, after
testing the air and finding it somewhat stale and smelling of metal
but otherwise breathable, he walked down the three small steps to
the floor, and then carefully over to the far wall where at least
half a dozen of the largest steel structures hung like sides of
beef in a freezer. With his tongue stuck firmly in the back of his
throat he touched one, feeling the cold metal under his fingers and
noting the fact that it had not the slightest trace of corrosion on
it. In fact, it had only the smallest trace of dust too. Power,
lubricant in the door hinges and no dust, - this place had been
built to endure.

The main trunk
was about a foot wide and six feet high, and was shaped with an
almost aerodynamic curve so that it was pointed at the top, and
then simply cylindrical with a slightly narrower waist. At the
pointed end were a number of what looked like grills and plastic
headlights, while the bottom end was a tangle of metal tubes and
wires. Running off its sides were six projections, all hanging
limply. They too were shaped somewhat aerodynamically, and
possibly, though he couldn’t be certain, hinged in the middle. The
bulges could be just that, bulges, and the lines around them could
simply indicate where the plates connected.

In his mind he
tried to visualize what it would be like when it was fully erect,
but failed. He couldn’t work out which way the legs went. But at
least he realized they were probably legs. His best guess was that
when open it would resemble a six legged saw bench. But why would
anybody want something like that? Alternatively he realized, the
legs could be arms spreading out horizontally, turning it into a
giant metal spider. Something that didn’t appeal, especially after
his time with the Mentan’s spider robots. But maybe that meant it
was a wall or floor mounted electrical device with antennae? Like a
radar station to greet ships arriving? That could be very
useful.

David ran his
hands over its body a lot more, trying to work out the details of
which way its hinges if they were that moved, but its secrets were
well hidden. Nothing moved under his hands, and he had to face the
likelihood that they were in fact just single pieces of moulded
metal.

He turned his
attention to the pointy end and in particular the strange lumps
around its neck. They made even less sense than the rest of it to
him. The rest could be switches or sensors, but the lumps could
only be lumps. They weren’t attractive, weren’t aerodynamic, and
surely couldn’t do anything useful other than to sit there like
steel moles. But then again he realized, whoever had built these
things, wasn’t human. They might be aesthetically pleasing to them.
Like fins on a classic car.

Experimentally
he pushed harder at them, trying to see if they might move with a
little more pressure, like switches that had frozen up over time.
But they didn’t budge an inch. They were solid and had been moulded
into the metal.

His hands moved
on, exploring the rest of the pointed head end, which was far
higher than his own. In fact he had to stand on the tips of his
toes just to touch it. Then he did and wished he hadn’t. The tip
turned out to be a switch, even though nothing moved under his
fingers. At first.

His first clue
that something was wrong, was when several of the lumps he had been
so critical of, suddenly turned sky blue. He leapt back startled,
realizing that this thing too had power. But more important than
that he realised, he had turned it on.

At first, the
blue lights didn’t really seem that threatening as nothing else
happened. They were just a little worrying. Then the thing started
moving, and he leapt backwards again in shock. Then he took a few
more steps back, all the way to the steps and then the door, as the
thing grew more active.

First it was
the tips of the legs that moved, perhaps the bottom six inches or
so, all writhing in unison like snake heads. It was not a pretty
image. Then, once they had had their turn the knees started
flexing, and he realized the machine was slowly testing out its
systems. Next it was the turn of the hips, and he watched all of
the legs moving in unison like a spider's. Cold ran down his spine
at the sight. He’d never liked spiders, and this thing, whatever it
might be, could be the granddaddy of them all, even if it had only
six legs.

He gripped the
door tightly, and kicked away the rock he’d so carefully placed in
it. The ancient steel door could be his best defence. It might also
be his only one.

In time the
machine seemed to have finished its testing, and it stopped moving,
something he hadn't expected. Maybe it had done all it intended to.
Gone through its checks and powered down. It could be. He began to
breathe again, daring to hope that that was all it was going to do.
He should have known better.

A sudden
whirring noise caught him by surprise, and then he watched with
horror as the machine was slowly lowered to the floor, like a pull
down bed from a wall. Its legs in turn moved into their walking
positions and in seconds he was staring at a six legged metal
spider as big as a pony. A spider that was staring back at him, if
the glowing blue eyes on the top of its head were anything to go
by.

Then it moved,
and he nearly had a heart attack.

Its front legs
moved forwards, then its middle pair, then the hind most, and it
took a careful step towards him. For a fraction of a second David
stood there, frozen in shock, then he leapt backwards, slammed the
door shut behind him, scrambled up the bank, and ran for the grass
behind it, praying it wouldn’t be able to follow.

It was a faint
hope.

He turned in
time to see the door handle being pulled inwards, and then the door
opening slowly, silently, to reveal the spider. A split second and
a million panicked heartbeats later he watched the mechanical
nightmare smoothly leaving the shed as if it was something it did
every day, simply pulling its legs in tighter as it squeezed
through the door, and then letting them extend out to their normal
width when it was outside. It even closed the door behind it,
before it lightly vaulted the eight foot high trench wall, David
had just scrambled up. Quicker than he could believe possible it
ran towards him, its legs moving in a sinuous harmony, and David
knew he couldn’t out run it. Two good legs or not, it was faster
than him. A lot faster.

He grabbed the
only weapon he could find, the rake, and held it before him as it
charged, ready to fight it, if only he knew how. But he didn’t have
to.

Even as he was
bracing himself for its mechanical onslaught, the machine stopped,
eight feet from him. Then it just waited, blue lights on its head
glowing, moving not a muscle while he in turn waited for it to
pounce. It didn’t. As the eternally long seconds ticked by, it just
stood there, patiently waiting. Like a cougar, waiting to
strike.

Taking his
courage in his hands David, backed away from it, step by cautious
step, daring to hope it might let him go. He never took his eyes
off it and for some reason with each cautious step it did nothing.
Perhaps it realized he was armed. Perhaps it had done all it was
going to do. He almost dared to hope. But it wasn’t to be. After
only four steps the machine moved once more into life, taking a
couple of quick steps towards him. But again it stopped eight feet
away, and David swiftly realized it was a pattern that was going to
continue. He took a few more backwards steps and watched as it did
the same. Sure enough it was following him. Why? Though was that as
important as the fact that it wasn’t attacking him? Probably
not.

Cautiously he
tried moving sideways, hoping maybe to get behind it and creep away
then, and oddly it seemed to work. The spider had no problem with
him moving sideways. In time he worked out that the machine also
had no problem with him being beside it or even behind it. As long
as he was no more than twelve feet or so away. If he increased his
distance from it any more than that, it turned around to face him
and then closed the distance between them to its set eight
feet.

After maybe a
quarter of an hour of testing it out he at least had come to the
conclusion it wasn’t going to attack him, though being a giant
metal spider, he wasn’t about to trust it any time soon. He
couldn’t get away from it, but he also sensed he wasn’t in any
immediate danger. His panic finally beginning to subside, he took
the time to start studying it again.

Now that it was
in the open air, and fully erect, he realized he could see the one
surface he hadn’t been able to see when it hung in the shed. Its
back. And its back was quite different to the rest of it.

For a start it
was smooth sculptured steel, polished as though it was meant to
have hands rubbed on it. There were also some short stalks on the
back of its head behind the blue lights, obviously controls, and
also two smooth hollows, one in between each pair of legs. To add
to his discoveries, he suddenly realized it had two pairs of
plastic straps hanging between each pair of legs. And the straps
had little loops on their ends. Something about them looked
familiar.

It took a
moment, but in time those straps with their oddly familiar loops
were enough like their earthly counterparts to tell him what they
were, and perversely what the machine was. They were stirrups and
it was a mechanical horse, with two saddles. It looked nothing like
any horse he’d ever seen, but then why should it? Humans hadn’t
built it, and the people who had presumably didn’t have horses
anyway.

A few minutes
later he also realized why it kept following him, and waiting. It
was waiting for him to ride it. He had activated it and now like an
obedient horse, it awaited his commands. A slight, nervous giggle
escaped him about then.

When his heart
rate had finally begun to return to some semblance of normality, he
realized he had only one option. To get closer to it. That was the
only way he was either going to be able to turn it off, or ride
it.

Holding the
rake before him, though he hoped it wasn’t necessary and he
suspected it would be next to useless if he needed a weapon, he
approached the spider from the side. The way a rider would approach
and mount a horse, he hoped. The spider moved not a single muscle,
not that it had any. Instead it just let him approach, confirming
his theory. And then just as he got to within a couple of feet or
so, it moved again, squatting down on its legs to let him mount up,
and sending his heart into overdrive again as he thought it was
about to jump on him.

But once he
realized why it had done what it had, he stilled his panicked
thoughts, took a few more calming breaths, and gathered up his
courage once again. It took less effort than before. There were
only so many heart attacks a man could have in a day before he just
gave up panicking.

Quickly he
swung one leg over the front saddle, and immediately the machine
rose to its full height with him on board. That at least, he had
expected though perhaps not so quickly, and he found himself
quickly trying to adjust his position so as not to have his
privates squeezed so tightly by the steel saddle. But soon he was
suspended off the ground exactly as a rider should be.

Once he was in
the saddle he started to realize that while the people who had
built this thing might have had two legs like a human, that was
where the resemblance ended. They were obviously far broader across
the hips than men, with the saddle being at least a foot wide,
which was relatively uncomfortable for him. They also had no male
anatomy from the way the front of the saddle rose sharply at the
front. Then there was the shortness of the control columns,
suggesting they either had longer arms or shorter backs than a man.
All in all it was a distinctly uncomfortable riding position, but
no doubt still easier than walking.

If he could
figure out how to drive it.

In front of him
were three small stalks with knobs on the ends, and what could only
be some sort of computer screen. Arrows around the stalks which
looked strangely like those found painted on any earthly motorway,
told him which way they moved, and also suggested what they did.
Two moved forwards and backwards, the inside pair being far longer
than the pair of arrows on the left, which strongly suggested to
him that they moved the machine forwards and back, and surely
faster and slower. The third on the right hand side, moved left and
right and were undoubtedly for steering. As controls went, they
didn’t seem particularly complex.