“Just putting the safety catch on,” he told the eye in the ceiling. “Don’t want it to go off, but those people out there were trying to kill me earlier, and I feel safer with it in my hand, know what I mean?”
“Well, not exactly, Orab,” the shuttle said, “but I think I can understand. But you’ll have to give the gun to me before we take off.”
“Oh sure. As soon as you close those rear doors.” Horza was in the doorway between the main compartment and the smaller control area now. It was in fact a very short corridor, less than two metres long, with opened doors to each compartment. Horza looked round quickly, but he couldn’t see another eye. He watched a large flap open at about hip level to reveal a comprehensive medical kit.
“Well, Orab, I’d close those doors to make you feel a bit safer if I could, but you see I’m here to rescue people who want to be rescued when the time comes to destruct the Orbital, and I can’t close those doors until just before I leave, so that everybody who wants to can get on board. Actually I can’t really understand why anybody wouldn’t want to escape, but they told me not to get worried if some people stayed behind. But I must say I think that would be kind of silly, don’t you, Orab?”
Horza was rummaging through the medkit but looking above it at other outlines of doors set in the wall of the short corridor. He said, “Hmm? Oh, yeah, that would be. When is the place due to blow, anyway?” He poked his head round the corner, into the control compartment or flight deck, looking up at another eye set in the corresponding position to the one in the main compartment, but looking forward from the other side of the thick wall between the two. Horza grinned and gave a little wave, then ducked back.
“Hi,” the shuttle laughed. “Well, Orab, I’m afraid that we’re going to be forced to destruct the Orbital in forty-three standard hours. Unless, of course, the Idirans see sense and are reasonable and withdraw their threat to use Vavatch as a war base.”
“Oh,” Horza said. He was looking at one of the door outlines above the opened one the medkit was protruding from. As far as he could guess, those two eyes were back to back, separated by the thickness of the wall between the two compartments. Unless there was a mirror he couldn’t see, he was invisible to the shuttle while he remained in the short corridor.
He looked back, out through the open rear doors; the only movement came from the tops of some distant trees and the smoke from the fires. He checked the gun. The projectiles seemed to be hidden in some sort of magazine, but a little circular indicator with a sweep hand indicated either one bullet left or one expended out of twelve.
“Yes,” the shuttle said. “It’s very sad, of course, but these things are necessary in wartime I suppose. Not that I pretend to understand it all. I’m just a humble shuttle, after all. I’d actually been given away as a present to one of the Megaships because I was too old-fashioned and crude for the Culture, you know. I thought they could have upgraded me but they didn’t; they just gave me away. Anyway, they need me now, I’m happy to say. We have quite a job on our hands, you know, getting everybody who wants to get off away from Vavatch. I’ll be sorry to see it go; I’ve had some happy times here, believe me… But that’s just the way things go, I suppose. How’s that finger going, by the way? Want me to have a look at it? Bring the medkit stuff round into one of the two compartments so I can take a look. I might be able to help, you know? Oh! Are you touching one of the other lockers in that corridor?”
Horza was trying to lever open the door nearest the roof by using the barrel of the gun. “No,” he said, heaving away at it. “I’m nowhere near it.”
“That’s odd. I’m sure I can feel something. Are you sure?”
“Of course I’m sure,” Horza said, putting all his weight behind the gun. The door gave way, revealing tubes, fibre-runs, metal bottles and various other unrecognisable bits of machinery, electrics, optics and field units.
“Ouch!” said the shuttle.
“Hey!” Horza shouted. “It just blew open! There’s something on fire in there!” He raised the gun, holding it in both hands. He sighted carefully; about there.
“Fire!” yelped the shuttle. “But that’s not possible!”
“You think I can’t tell smoke when I see it, you crazy goddamned machine?” Horza yelled. He pulled the trigger.
The gun exploded, throwing his hands up and him back. The noise of the shuttle’s exclamation was covered by the crack and bang of the bullet hitting inside and exploding. Horza covered his face with his arm.
“I’m blind!” wailed the shuttle. Now smoke really was pouring from the compartment Horza had opened. He staggered into the control compartment.
“You’re on fire in here, too!” he yelled. “There’s smoke coming out everywhere!”
“What? But that can’t be—”
“You’re on fire! I don’t know how you can’t feel it or smell it! You’re burning!”
“I don’t trust you!” the machine yelled. “Put that gun away or—”
“You’ve got to trust me!” Horza yelled, looking all over the control area for where the shuttle’s brain might be located. He could see screens and seats, readout screens and even the place where manual controls might be hidden; but no indication of where the brain was. “Smoke’s pouring out everywhere!” he repeated, trying to sound hysterical.
“Here! Here’s an extinguisher! I’m turning mine on!” the machine shouted. A wall unit spun round, and Horza grabbed the bulky cylinder attached to the inside of the flap. He wrapped his four good fingers on his injured hand round the pistol grip. A hissing noise and a light vapour-like steam was appearing from various places in the compartment.
“Nothing’s happening!” Horza screamed. “There’s loads of black smoke and its — arrch!” He pretended to cough. “…Aargh! It’s getting thicker!”
“Where is it coming from? Quickly!”
“Everywhere!” Horza yelled, glancing all round the control area. “From near your eye… under the seats, over the screens, under the screens… I can’t see…!”
“Go on! I can smell smoke, too, now!”
Horza looked at the slight smudge of grey filtering into the control area from the spluttering fire in the short corridor where he had shot the craft. “It’s… coming from those places, and those info screens on either side of the end seats, and… just above the seats, on the side walls where that bit juts out—”
“What?” screamed the shuttle brain. “On the left facing forward?”
“Yes!”
“Put that one out first!” the shuttle screeched.
Horza dropped the extinguisher and gripped the gun in both hands again, aiming it at the bulge in the wall over the left-hand seat. He pulled the trigger: once, twice, three times. The gun blasted, shaking his whole body; sparks and bits of flying debris flew from the holes the bullets were smashing in the casing of the machine.
“EEEeee…” said the shuttle, then there was silence.
Some smoke rose from the bulge and it joined with that coming from the corridor to form a thin layer under the ceiling. Horza let the gun down slowly, looking around and listening.
“Mug,” he said.
He used the hand-held extinguisher to put out the small fires in the wall of the corridor and where the shuttle’s brain had been, then he went out into the passenger area to sit near the open doors while the smoke and the fumes cleared. He couldn’t see any Eaters on the sand or in the forest, and the canoes were out of sight, too. He looked for some door controls and found them; the doors closed with a hiss, and Horza grinned.