Dieter’s strength got us across the shale. He had the sense to head slightly down hill, which made things easier for us and we met the pod as it slithered past. The door opened and we leaped in. No time to buckle up. The leg snapped off and we tilted. The next moment the stampede was upon us.
Something big and heavy hit the roof. The ceiling sagged badly, tiles fell and wires dangled, spitting and twisting. The lights flickered wildly. Something else kicked us and we tipped over, rolling down the slope. Locker doors swung open and their contents crashed down on top of us. We were hurled around the inside of the pod, bouncing painfully off the walls.
With a bellow, something really big fell on top of us, the walls bulged outwards and frighteningly, with a noise like a pistol shot, the screen cracked. I think Dieter was yelling. I know I was.
I shouted, ‘Computer, emergency extraction …’ and it all went horribly quiet. Through the distorted screen I could see the ground – a long way down. We’d gone over the bloody cliff!
‘… Now!’ hoping desperately we would jump before we hit the ground, which was getting closer and closer. And then the world went black.
Much later, I saw the tapes of our landing. Every alarm in the unit went off. The hangar was still full of nosey sods awaiting our return. As our pod appeared about eight feet above the plinth, people scattered. Techies threw aside their umbilicals and ran for their lives. The pod landed on the plinth with a thunderous crash. Dust and debris dropped from the hangar roof. The whole hangar shook. They felt the impact all through the main building. Apparently, the shock was such that one of our decorative stone pineapples fell from its plinth and crashed onto the front steps beneath, narrowly missing our caretaker, Mr Strong, who had stepped outside for a crafty fag.
The pod bounced down the hangar like something dreamed up by Barnes Wallis, inventor of the famous bouncing bomb, scattering people as it went and finally came to a stop, door side down naturally, in front of Plinth Three at the other end of the hangar.
On the tapes there was a long, shocked silence. Red and blue lights bounced off stunned faces. Chief Farrell moved first.
‘Emergency evacuation! All non-essential personnel out. Now. Crash teams to me. Move.’
Karl and Peterson got people off the gantry while contriving to stay put themselves. They were joined by the Boss, who had turned up to see who was trying to wreck his unit.
Major Guthrie and a security team appeared from the back of the hangar, closely followed by Helen and her team of medics. All in all, the hangar cleared and key personnel assembled in around two minutes. Quite impressive. When they discovered the pod had landed on its door, the Chief kicked the pod in frustration, snapped an order, and Polly Perkins dashed off out of the picture.
Inside the pod, where the important people were, Dieter and I were still wondering who we were and what the hell was going on. Amazingly, we were still conscious and gave thanks for our vests and helmets.
‘Jesus,’ whispered Dieter, ‘I am never going anywhere with you again, Max. Ever. I’m not even using the dining room if you’re there. You’re a fucking disaster!’
‘I think that’s a little unkind,’ I said, weakly. ‘You’re surely not blaming me for this.’
There followed some argument which it would not be useful to repeat, but he seemed better afterwards,
‘How are you?’ I asked.
‘Well, I’m lying on the door which means we can’t get out and they can’t get in, with the contents of seven lockers on top of me and there are live wires everywhere. What about you, Max. You OK?’
‘Yes, I think so. Listen, Dieter, this is important. If I pass out you must make them download the tapes first. I know we’ve got live cables everywhere, but if they switch the power off then we might lose all our data. I’m sorry, kiddo, but it’s more important than we are.’ Silence. ‘Dieter, I’m sorry, but you’ve just become an honorary historian, which means you rank somewhere between blue-green algae and the duck-billed platypus in the scheme of things. The Boss must see those tapes.’
More silence. I didn’t know what to say to him. I’d brought him with me in a stupid attempt to promote equality and co-operation and I’d nearly got him killed.
‘Dieter, are you still awake?’
‘Honorary historian, eh?’
‘Could be.’
‘So how does this work? Do I have one orange leg and one blue leg?’
My com crackled. Farrell said, ‘Max, can you hear me?’
‘Good afternoon, Chief.’
‘Is Dieter OK?’
‘Yes, we’re just redesigning his uniform.’
‘Are either of you injured?’
‘We may be a little shaken.’
‘We’ll get you out in a jiffy.’
‘Is the Boss there? Can I have a word?’
‘Just a minute.’
He came on immediately. ‘Miss Maxwell. That was quite an entrance.’
‘Sir, I apologise for disturbing your afternoon. We’ve got some data here and it’s important you see this. It’s more important than we are. Please sir; under no circumstances allow them to disconnect the power in this pod. You must preserve the data. You’ll understand when you see it.’