Saucerers and Gondoliers - Chapter 4

Chapter 4 - Our Friends The Americans

Things went dark as the much bigger saucer of the other ship closed over the sun. Then there was a CLANG as the two vessels' hulls collided.
Then, suddenly, the wheel in the hatch door above their heads (which had originally been in the floor) began to rotate, as if someone or something else was turning it from the other side.
"What if it's not an American", said Cleo, shrinking back behind a chair in fear. "What if it's an Alien."
"Not much difference between the two in my experience", said Ant.
The hatch swung inwards on metal hinges that shrieked like a scalded cat being dragged down a blackboard. The cargo pallet pinged free of its fastenings - it had been clipped into place over the hatch - and floated free into the centre of the cabin, big, heavy, and covered in sharp corners. The metal of the hatch door was thick as a finger, and it banged hard against the saucer's hull as it flew back.
A voice said: "Sensor says the atmosphere's breathable. Normal oxygen nitrogen." Then, it became puzzled and said:
"Traces of alcohol and hydrochloric acid."
The voice was American. Ant was reassured.
"Better watch your six in there, Billy Hank. Them alien sons of mothers might just breathe alcohol sure nuff."
"Just you pack that alien stuff in there, Wayne Bob. This here is a Royal Space Force moke. Filled to the sills with cucumber sandwiches and English muffins, I reckon."
"It's on the stolen list and you know it", said the second voice sulkily. "Besides, what killed her driver, you tell me that iffen you can."
"We've no proof the driver is dead, Wayne Bob." A head and a pair of hands emerged into the saucer. The head was human. It was the head of a white man with a flat-topped haircut. He winked at Ant.
"Well, what have we here. The RSF is training midgets as pilots to reduce payload weight. Gimme some thrust in here, Wayne Bob, I don't hold with this Free Fall stuff."
The deck around Ant rumbled gently, and all the debris in the air fell to the floor. Ant felt himself drift gently down with it.
"The gravity's back", whispered Cleo. "What did they do?"
"Fired their engines, most likely", Ant whispered back. "It's not real gravity - it's caused by acceleration, like the feel of the seat pressing against your back when you take off in a plane." He kicked himself mentally. "Of course! That's why we had gravity for the trip out here. Our engines were turned on."
"Why did the gravity go off halfway through the trip, then?"
"The ship stopped accelerating forwards and started decelerating. Spaceships don't brake like cars. It takes them a long time to stop."
Billy Hank rolled down into the cabin. He was moving like a moonman - gravity was still feeble.
The American spaceman held a torch, which he played round the cabin.
"Your average human stomach contains a deal of hydrochloric acid, I reckon", observed Billy Hank. "Been a whole lot of barfing going on in here, Wayne Bob."
"Smells like the inside of a diaper", agreed Wayne Bob.
"What's a diaper?" said Cleo.
"Real purdy find", continued Wayne Bob, without replying to Cleo. His head was now in the cabin too; it suffered from a severe lack of teeth. Both he and Billy Hank were wearing flight suits with a number, '12A', on the left breast. "Astromoke Mark Three, if my eyes do not deceive me, in perfect working order."
"These British copies ain't quite so good", said Billy Hank. "Don't got no poke over a standing quarter light year."
The torch swung round to shine right in Ant and Cleo's eyes.
"You kids are in more trouble than a male Black Widow spider in sweet, sweet love."