Hal Junior 1: The Secret Signal, Page 3

  He reached for the big plastic dial and turned it to Medium.

  Whirrr!

  The machine started to move again, and the plates coming out the other end were clean enough. There was a speck of food here and there, but who was going to notice? Hal eyed the pile of cups and cutlery he still had to deal with, and decided to do the whole lot in one go. He put all the items on the belt and twisted the knob through 'Fast', 'Very Fast', 'Very Very Fast' ... all the way up to 'Ultra-Fast'

  Zoooooooom!

  The belt fairly flew as the machine kicked into top speed, and the crockery disappeared into the machine as though sucked into a black hole.

  Zzzinngg!

  Gleaming cutlery arrowed out of the dishwasher, streaking towards the wall in a blur of silver.

  Gadoiinnnggg! went the knives and forks as they stuck into the wall, quivering with the force.

  Spat-spat-spat! went the dishwasher, rocking on its feet as it hurled teacups around the kitchen.

  Clatter clatter crash! went the plastic cups and plates as they bounced off the walls and cupboards.

 

  Hal ducked under the barrage and turned the knob back to 'Slow'. The last plate had just stopped spinning when his dad appeared in the doorway.

  "Don't look at me," said Hal. "It just went wrong. I think it's ... obsolete."

  His dad crouched to gather up the scattered crockery, shaking his head at the mess. Hal tried to give him a hand, but ended up smearing food scraps all over the floor with the broom.

  "It'll be quicker if I do it," said his dad. "Go and start your homework."

  Hal nearly reached the exit before his dad called him back to wash his hands. Hal put his hands in the sink and there was a tingly blue glow as the field did its job. When he raised his hands they were perfectly clean and dry. His dad once told him about people washing with actual water, splashing it all over themselves like there was an endless supply. Aboard a space station water was hoarded for drinking, and the idea of pouring it on your skin or sloshing it all over your plates to clean them was insane. In fact, Hal sometimes wondered whether his dad made up half the things he told him. Most of them were certainly crazy enough.

  After he'd cleaned up Hal went to his cabin, where a narrow bunk jostled for space with a tiny desk and a fold-out chair. It wasn't much of a room, and Hal wondered what their new place might be like. A computer terminal of his own would be fantastic, especially if Stinky could hack his way around the usual blocks. Unrestricted terminals had views of the outside, huge libraries of music and video, access to any number of cool games and stacks of other delights. For that, he'd even put up with the kids from C-section.

  Hal sat at the desk and opened his workbook, which still had the Morse alphabet on its screen. In all the excitement of meeting Tina the tech and learning about his mum's new job and their new home, he'd forgotten his plan to study the secret code. He figured he had an hour before his parents sent him to bed, and he decided to spend the time learning Morse.

  After a while he'd managed to draw his name using dots and dashes, and then he amused himself by converting swear words into code. It wasn't the same though ... shouting 'dash dot dot, dot dash, dash dash, dash dot' when you tripped over a stray power cable wasn't really practical. By the time you got to the second 'dot' your face would be firmly planted on the floor.

  There was a knock, and Hal turned to see his mum in the doorway. "I'm just doing my homework."

  "Teacher's still fond of Morse code, eh?"

  "You know about it?"

  "Everyone has to learn Morse. It's a useful backup."

  Hal's face fell. So much for the secret code. Then he realised his mum was eying the workbook screen, where he'd written several choice phrases in Morse. He closed the lid quickly, hoping she hadn't read them.

  "I'm glad you've finished. It's time for bed."

  "But I have to do an assignment on obesity!"

  His mum raised her eyebrows. "Hal Junior, you're not pulling that old trick on me. You've had plenty of time to finish your homework."

  "You want me to do well at school, don't you?"

  "All right, you can have five minutes."

  "Mum!"

  His mum tapped on the door frame: Dash dot, dash, dot. "And not a second longer."

  Ten minutes later he said goodnight to his parents, turned off the light and clambered into his bunk. In the dark the space station rumbled and thumped and creaked all around him, making all the noises you never heard when the lights were on. It was easy to imagine himself aboard a star fighter, patrolling deep space for enemy ships. His thoughts turned to Captain Spacejock, and he pictured the Peace Force officer flying alongside in his Phantom X-1. Together they would keep the galaxy safe!

  Truth was, Hal didn't know much about his hero. When he was young his mum told him a fantastic story one night, all about a pilot called Spacejock. She explained how this brave character flew around in his ship, saving people from danger. The following night, when he asked her for the story again, she just shook her head. Hal asked his dad about Captain Spacejock, hero of the galaxy, but he just laughed. Since they wouldn't talk about it any more, Hal made up his own stories.

  A little later, in the middle of the patrol, he dozed off.

  Where's Teacher?

  When Hal turned up to lessons the next morning he found the class strangely silent. All the other kids were there, but instead of fidgeting and chatting they were sitting like statues, eyes fixed straight ahead. And instead of Teacher rolling by to tell Hal off for being late, there were two men standing at the front of the class. One was the head of security, Chief Bignew, while the other was a grey-haired man in a white lab coat.

  Hal stared at the men in shock. Bignose? What was he doing there? And who was the other guy? He spotted Stinky's face amongst the other students, looking pale and worried, and suddenly it dawned on him. The men were there to investigate the events at the recycling hatch! Hal's stomach contracted, and he was about to run for it when Bignew spotted him.

  "Late to class, Junior? You're about as reliable as your father."

  Hal frowned. Investigation or not, he wasn't letting Giant Bignose push him around! "I had to run an errand."

  "Is that so? Well let me tell you ..." Bignew paused as the grey-haired man spoke in his ear. "Very well, I'll deal with your attendance record later." Bignew cleared his throat. "This is Mr Thimp, and he's taking over lessons until Teacher comes back."

  Hal breathed a sigh of relief. It wasn't about the recycling hatch after all. So why was the head of security there? It was bad enough him creeping all over the space station poking his nose into everything. Was he going to spy on the class as well? Surely Teacher would have something to say about that? "Sir, what happened to Teacher. Why isn't he here?"

  "Had you been punctual ..."

  The grey-haired man leant over and whispered something, and Hal grinned at the security chief's annoyed expression. Old Bignose wanted to tell Hal off but he wasn't getting the chance. After a deep breath, Bignew continued. "As I explained earlier, your teacher went in for an upgrade and it didn't work. It'll be a day or two before the techs can get him running again."

  That explained Stinky's expression, because if ever there was someone worried about missing a day's worth of lessons, Stinky was that person. As for Hal's feelings on the subject of missing lessons ... "Sir, can we all go home?"

  "Certainly not. Mr Thimp will mind your class until Teacher is fit and ready. Now, I have much more important work to do so I shall leave you in his capable hands."

  After Bignew left Mr Thimp looked around the class, studying each student carefully. "I don't think we'll bother with lessons," he said softly. "Let's all go on a little field trip."

  There were several groans. Excursions were all very well, but how many times did they have to see the suit lockers, or the airlock simulator, or any of the other systems which kept the space station running? They were all vital, but they could also be very dull.
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  "Today we're going to visit Traffic Control, which overlooks the central docking bay. There's a supply ship due in half an hour, and I thought you might like to watch it arrive."

  Instead of groans, now there were gasps. Traffic Control was strictly off-limits and Hal didn't know anyone who'd been within a hundred metres of the place, let alone set foot inside. He'd always been fascinated by space ships, and rare glimpses of supply vessels arriving and departing were never enough. Now they were going to watch one docking with the station, right up close!

  "I don't have to remind you how important it is that you keep quiet and don't interfere with anything." Thimp's expression was serious. "You can look on this field trip as a test. If you don't cause any trouble, I might be able to get you into engineering, the workshops ... even the research labs."

  Hal's eyes widened. His mother worked in the labs and she'd never even hinted at what they did there. Now Mr Thimp was offering a guided tour if the class behaved themselves? For the first time in his life, Hal swore he'd be the model of good behaviour, and he glared at the other kids to put them on notice. If anyone caused trouble, they'd have Hal Junior to deal with!

  * * *

  They made their way to the control room in pairs, with Mr Thimp at the head of the line. He walked quickly, his lab coat flapping behind him like a pair of wings, and the others had to hurry to keep up. Hal and Stinky started off at the rear, but they worked their way forward by elbowing past slower classmates. Hal was determined to have a good view of the docking bay, and if that meant pushing ahead of the rest so be it. He'd enjoy the outing first and apologise later.

  They turned the final corner and Mr Thimp stopped at a sturdy double door. A large sign said 'Warning, No Unauthorised Access', and Hal could scarcely believe they were going to be allowed inside. But before the doors opened Mr Thimp motioned everyone to silence.

  "I want to remind you how important this area is. It's vital you keep your hands to yourselves, and I don't want you speaking to anyone, distracting anyone, or making a nuisance of yourselves. Is that clear?"

  Everyone nodded.

  "Very well." Mr Thimp touched a swipe card to the controls and an access light turned green. There was a clash of bolts and the heavy doors parted silently, disappearing into the walls on well-oiled mechanisms. The lights inside the control room were dim, and Hal's gaze darted this way and that as he absorbed every detail. The first thing he noticed was the cavernous docking bay, visible through a row of large windows. A flexible boarding tube was moving towards the middle of the bay, and he could see a couple of workers in spacesuits at the controls. Opposite the tube, the gigantic hangar doors stood open, and Hal could make out a small section of inky black sky sprinkled with stars.

  He tore his gaze from the docking bay and looked around the control room. Beneath the windows was a row of terminals where operators were studying columns of figures, pausing one display or another as they entered corrections. At the far end a female technician had the cover off a terminal, and was working on the complex circuitry inside. And near the centre there were three people in uniform, talking in low voices.

 

  "In you go, children." Mr Thimp pointed out an empty desk near the window. "Stand over there and don't touch anything."

  They filed in silently, eyes wide and heads turning from one awe-inspiring sight to the next. This was what space was all about, thought Hal, not airlock simulators and mouldy old suit lockers! He felt a rumble through the soles of his feet, and he was wondering what it was when Mr Thimp pointed out the window.

  "Look there, children. The supply ship!"

  Watching the Tiger

  Hal stared into the docking bay and saw a long burst of fire between the outer doors. The flames left a cloudy haze, and he felt a thrill of excitement as the curved nose of a spaceship crept into the bay, its hull scarred from space dust and meteorites. Hal remembered reading about the dust, how even the tiniest speck was like a supersonic bullet at the mind-bending speed of interstellar travel.

  The ship's thrusters fired again, slowing the large vessel. The jets were silent in the vacuum of space but Hal could feel the space station trembling as it absorbed the shock waves.

  The ship got closer and closer to the end of the boarding tube, and coloured lights flickered like a laser show in the haze. There was a final burst from the jets before a pair of arms extended from the space station to anchor the ship tightly in place. When it was still, the flexible tube attached itself to the hull, covering the airlock.

  During the docking process Mr Thimp had been talking to the officers in the centre of the control room. Now he picked up a headset and spoke into the microphone. Hal heard a tinny voice through a headset lying on the desk nearby, and he realised it was plugged in. He checked nobody was watching, then scooped up the earphones and placed them on his head.

  "Tiger One ... docking successful. The board is green. I repeat, the board is green."

  Hal could hardly believe it. He was listening to the pilot of a real spaceship!

 

  "Thank you, Tiger One," said Mr Thimp. "The situation here is under control. We have the minor packages in the control room."

  "What about the primary cargo?"

  "Tiger One, primary is en-route. Stand by for confirmation."

  Hal lapped up every word, even though he had no idea what they were on about.

  "What are you doing?" hissed Stinky, who had noticed the headset. "He said not to touch!"

  "I'm not touching," whispered Hal. "I'm listening!"

  "Control, I missed that. Please repeat."

  They'd heard him! The microphone was active! Hal stared at Thimp, hoping he hadn't recognised the voice, but their relief teacher was talking to the officers and his own headset was dangling from one hand. Hal jumped as Stinky tugged his sleeve, and he turned to see his friend miming taking the headset off. Hal pretended not to understand.

  "Tiger One, primary cargo is entering the docking tube. I'll bring the minor cargo across once you give me the all clear."

  "Affirmative, Control. Primary is in sight now, and she doesn't look happy."

  Hal frowned at this. The primary cargo sounded like a person, not boxes of freight, but who could it be?

  "Listen to me, children," said Mr Thimp, turning to face the class. "I've spoken to the captain and he's agreed to invite you aboard the supply ship for a quick tour."

  A tour of the supply ship! Would the wonders never cease? Hal slipped the headphones off before Thimp spotted them. The last thing he wanted was to be stuck in the control room as punishment while everyone else went on the outing!

  * * *

  On a normal excursion Teacher would spend half his time trying to keep the class quiet and the other half telling them off, but the entire class was wide-eyed and silent as Mr Thimp led them along the boarding tunnel to the waiting ship. There were no windows or portholes to look through, but knowing the vacuum of deep space was just the other side of the thin walls was exciting enough.

  The tunnel was like a giant snake and the floor moved up and down under their feet. Hal tried jumping, which made the entire tunnel wobble like a bouncy castle full of jelly, and he was about to try his next experiment -- throwing himself at the curved wall to see whether he could knock all the other kids off their feet -- when Mr Thimp scowled at him. Hal dropped his head and meekly followed the rest.

  At the end of the tunnel the ship's airlock waited like a gaping mouth. Part of the hull was visible around the edge, and Hal ran his palm over the rough surface. It was scored with horizontal lines, some dull and others bright and new. The metal looked like it had been attacked with a giant sheet of sandpaper, and Hal wondered what happened when space dust wore all the layers away. Did they replace sections of the ship, or did they buy a new hull and recycle the old one?

  "Come on, lad. We're waiting."

  Hal took his hand off the hull and stepped into the airlock. There wasn't much room with the whole class cra
mmed in, and it was even more of a squeeze when the outer door closed. There was a hiss as the pressure equalised, and Hal jammed his hands over his ears at the sudden pain. From the yelps around him he wasn't the only one.

  "Try swallowing," advised Mr Thimp.

  Hal obeyed and his ears went 'pop'. With the pain gone, he turned to watch the inner door opening. Warm air filled the airlock with a smell of disinfectant and hot food, making his stomach grumble, but for once he had more important things to think about than his next meal.

  It was years since he'd boarded a real spaceship!

  All Hands on Deck

  The airlock opened onto the Tiger's flight deck, where a young woman in grey overalls was sitting at a bank of screens. She was talking to someone, and Hal realised the flat, confident voice was the ship itself.

  "Refuelling in progress," said the voice. "Would you like frequent traveller points with your purchase?"

  Frequent traveller! Hal didn't know what it was, but it sounded like his sort of job.

  "Give me a break," said the woman at the controls. "I've told you before: no special offers, no points, no customer reward programs ... just fill the tanks with fuel!" She heard a cough and turned to see two dozen pairs of eyes on her. "Oh great. More visitors?"

  Mr Thimp nodded. "They're here for the guided tour. Can you show them around?"

  "Sorry sir, I'm busy." The pilot checked a list on her screen. "Slayd's off duty."

  "Get him up here."

  "Aye aye."

  A few moments later the doors opened and a young man entered the flight deck. Petty Officer Slayd was a tall, thin man with a sour face beneath a shock of ginger hair. His flight suit fitted him like a paper bag, and there were rough patches of mismatched fabric at the knees and elbows. Stick a red nose and big shoes on him, reckoned Hal, and he'd make a pretty good clown. He snorted at the image, and everyone looked at him.