Nettie looked around for the intercom. Her idea had been quite a simple one: if they wanted to communicate with the Captain, and they couldn’t get up to the Captain’s Bridge to speak to him personally, then she’d telephone him from the Engine Room. There had to be some sort of communication between the Bridge and the engineers.
In the corner there was a small cabinet. Maybe that was it? She opened the doors to reveal two buttons.
One read: ‘Bomb Monitor’ and the other: ‘Press To Arm’. A sudden wave of cold, even colder than the current temperature of the ship, swept through Nettie’s body. ‘Bomb!?’ Was there a bomb on board?
Nettle pressed the button that read ‘Bomb Monitor’. A polite voice said: ‘Thank you for enquiring about the status of the Mega-Scuttler Corporation’s SD-96 Full Force Mega-Scuttler – ‘A Bomb To Be Proud Of’ – which has been installed, for your convenience, upon this Starship. It is my pleasure to inform you that the Mega-Scuttler is currently not activated. Thank you for showing an interest in bombs.’
‘Bit of a relief,’ thought Nettle. ‘Now where’s the intercom?’
What happened next is totally unclear. Certainly Nettle herself had no recollection. She remembered climbing up the ladder next to the armour-plated window. She could recall feeling colder than ever and finding her breathing harder and then feeling a force gripping her… a force pulling her sideways off the ladder… a force so vast that she thought she was being sucked into a Black Hole or something… as she felt herself falling horizontally off the ladder towards whatever it was behind the perspex window… The next thing she knew she was whirling round in blackness – fighting for her life…
11
Dan and Lucy were having trouble.
They had both procured their vouchers and had successfully wheedled an upgrade to Second Class out of the Deskbot, but the trickier negotiation re an upgrade to First Class was proving to be a remarkably harrowing experience.
‘You have no Credit Card. You are not members of the Sixty Million Miles Club. You are not even registered Frequent Travellers. This whole discussion is pointless. You will find the Second Class facilities on board this Starship more than adequate for your requirements.’
How could even a robot be so unbelievably, unremittingly snotty, wondered Dan.
‘Dan!’ said Lucy. ‘We’re wasting our breath in fact, is it my imagination or is it getting harder to breathe?’
Dan sniffed the air. Lucy was right. It was also getting colder. ‘Jesus!’ he muttered.
‘The air and heating are at normal levels,’ announced a Doorbot.
‘That’s bullshit!’ snapped Lucy. ‘It’s getting colder and it’s getting more difficult to breathe!’
‘I can assure you that the air supply and the temperature are set to maximum for Super Galactic Traveller Class comfort,’ said the Doorbot.
‘Are you trying to tell us there are different levels of air supply for the different classes of traveller?’ exdaimed Dan.
‘Not normally, sir, no,’ replied the Doorbot. ‘However, should the ship be travelling without First or Second Class passengers, the oxygen and heating will – naturally – be lowered to the comfort requirements of Super Galactic Traveller Class passengers.’
‘Jesus!’ exclaimed Lucy. You guys are the most cynical bunch I have ever come across!’
‘I’m going straight to the Travel Association when I get home!’ Dan was not messing about any longer. He was now beginning to sweat with panic despite the cold. ‘There isn’t enough air to breathe!’
‘There is ample air and heat for the Super Galactic Traveller decks, sir, but unfortunately it is getting dispersed over the whole ship.’
Lucy, meanwhile, was back at the Deskbot, hammering on the desk.
‘I’m sorry, madam,’ the Deskbot was saying, ‘but it is company policy to supply First and Second Class air and heat only if there are First and Second Class passengers on board.’
‘But we are Second Class passengers now!’
‘I have no record of any Second Class passengers on board.’
‘But you just gave us an upgrade! We had vouchers!’
‘I’m afraid vouchers are not processed until the end of the month. Thank you for your enquiry.’ The Deskbot suddenly turned itself off.