Dying is easy. Comedy is difficult.
—Edmund Kean
The docks were in chaos. It was like a scene from hell. Hundreds of vessels of all shapes and sizes were pulling out as fast as they could. They were banging into one another, hooting and tooting, waving and shouting, all trying to cram through the tiny air lock and head for the safety of space. Orange shuttle ships from the Princess Di bounced around them, filled to the brim with terrified tourists. The lights kept flickering on and off. Each time the power cut, the sodium emergency lights cast an eerie yellow glow over the pandemonium.
“Jesus,” said Alex.
“Get the hell out of here,” said Rogers. “You may not have much time.” As he spoke H9 gave a great metallic groan. “Whoops,” said Rogers grimly. “I’ll be on the Di, if this place holds long enough.” He raced off towards the bouncing orange shuttles.
Alex was almost bowled over by a crowd surging out of the subway. They raced around him shouting and yelling in several languages. He pointed them towards the line of desperate souls waiting their turn for the orange lifeboats. British sailors in their neat white shorts were hopelessly trying to instill some order into their panicking passengers. They were saying those maddeningly cheerful British things. “Don’t worry, girls, never happen. One at a time, love. Oops, steady there. Never mind, dear, I’ve got another foot. Tis but a flesh wound. Worse things happen at sea. Always look on the bright side, eh?” He watched them calmly reassuring the little old ladies and loading them onto lifeboats as if they were organizing a picnic on the beach. A cheery cockney gave him a big thumbs-up and yelled, “Nice work if you can get it, eh, mate?”
A couple of the little old ladies recognized him and nudged each other.
“Look who it is, Doris. It’s him. Remember, Doris, ’e was the monkey. You were ever so good on the show, love.” He dutifully signed the paper they thrust at him. This was madness, signing autographs at a time like this. They might all be dead within minutes. As if to underline this insanity, H9 gave another huge groan. Good grief, it’s coming apart, he thought.
He fought his way blindly along the docks through masses of terrified people. It was hard work against the flow. Eventually he spotted the Ray up ahead of him in the compacts-only berth. Almost all the other vessels around it were gone. He broke into a run. As he drew near, he could see the lights were on and hear the engines were running. Thank God. Almost there. He raced up the gangplank.
Lewis’s white faced greeted him. “Where you bin, for God’s sake? We gotta get out of here.”
“You’re telling me. It’s a madhouse.”
“Okay, we’re powered up, let’s go.”
“Daddy, Daddy, wait.”
He turned in surprise to see a frightened little girl staring at him. “Oh, Alex, this is Tay.”
“Oh my God, a munchkin. Hello, Tay. I’m Alex.”
“You’re the monkey.”
“That’s right.”
“My mommy is missing,” she told him.
“She’s gonna be fine,” said Lewis. “But we really have to get out of here now.”
He raced for the controls.
“Undocking,” he yelled.
Emergency lights flashing, the Johnnie Ray began to pull away.
“Wait,” said Alex. “Where’s Carlton?”
“I don’t know,” said Lewis. “He was with you.”
“You mean he’s not on board?”
“No.”
“But we can’t leave without him.”
“Alex, he’s a tin man.”
“My God, he must still be at the Rialto.”
“What?”
“I told him to wait for Katy Wallace.”
Lewis stared at him in disbelief. “Excuse me?”
“I followed McTurk, Carlton stayed. Then I found Sammy—dead.”
Lewis was fish-mouthed.
Another large metallic groan from the bowels of H9 brought him to his senses.
“We gotta go.”
“No.”
“What?”
“I’m not leaving without Carlton.”
“He’s a robot, for Christ’s sake.”
“So?”
“Alex, we can buy another one.”
“Not like him.”
“Are you going to risk all our lives for a tin man?”
“He’ll make it,” he said, desperately trying the vidphone.
“Alex, you’re out of your mind.”
There was only static.
“Nothing,” he said.
“Okay, that’s it. We gotta go.”
“No.” He shook his head stubbornly.
“Alex, it’s not just you here. There’s my daughter, for Christ’s sake.”
“Okay. You leave, I’ll get off.”
“Goddam you, Alex!” He beat the side of the ship in frustration. “Don’t do this to me.”
The place began to shake. The whole dockside was shuddering.
“Let’s give him five more minutes.”
“Are you out of your mind?”
“I mean it. Five minutes or I get off.” Lewis looked at him. He was dead serious.
“Five minutes,” he said.
It was a very long five minutes. The whole time H9 groaned and shuddered. Huge girders fell from the ceiling, lights swayed and shattered and threw sparks across the cement floor. Way over towards the air lock exit they could see the last of the orange shuttles packing people in. Almost all the vessels were gone now. Alex said nothing, but sat grim-faced, staring at the entrance tunnels. Only a few people were still arriving, almost all now were running. Lewis held a pocket watch in his hands and breathed deeply.
“Okay, that’s five minutes, chum.”
Alex was in tears. Tay went over and put an arm round him. He patted her hand.
“I’m casting off,” said Lewis. “I’m sorry, pal.”
He went forward to cast off.
“Wait,” screamed Alex. “There he is.”
Carlton was running along the emptying docks. Draped in his arms was a female figure. One of the deskbots was with him.
“What the hell’s he got there?” said Lewis, frowning.
“C’mon Carlton,” yelled Alex, “we gotta get out of here. It’s all about to blow.”
H9 was rocking and shaking, the groaning sounds amplified now and echoing every few minutes with a loud metallic banging, as if someone were hammering on every beam and rivet.
“Oh my God,” said Alex, “he’s got Katy Wallace.”
Lewis glanced at Alex in disapproval. “He’s bringing her on board?”
“What’s he supposed to do, dump her?”
“Fine by me,” said Lewis.
“I’m gonna assume that’s a joke,” said Alex as he leapt forward to help Carlton.
“I wish,” said Lewis.
Carlton entered with the limp figure in his arms, almost stumbling in the doorway. Alex glimpsed Katy’s pale face and saw she was unconscious.
“Stick her in the sick bay,” he said. Carlton nodded.
“Hold tight. This could be a bit hairy,” yelled Lewis.
“You coming?” he said to the deskbot.
“Can’t,” it said. “Orders.”
“Oh well, suit yourself,” said Alex.
He could see the deskbot reach for his vidphone as the door closed.
As they headed for the air lock, they could see the line of waiting passengers had diminished. The docks were emptying rapidly. Only emergency crews remained, getting the last of the craft away. One or two British sailors in their white shorts smiled and waved cheerfully at them as they passed, as if they were off for a pleasant Sunday cruise. Just before they entered the air lock, Alex saw one of the sailors bend over and moon him. Fucking nuts, he thought.