The Worst Man on Mars
Permission Impossible

Lieutenant Willie Warner’s excitement escalated as he adjusted the sensitivity and resolution of the scanners.

“Whoa! These are seriously big buggers, William. Must be 12 feet tall,” he muttered punching the air, a huge grin on his face. “Real aliens. Real proper aliens. Things with ... limbs ... tentacles ... whatever. Bodies. Eyes. Brains.” This would make him famous the world over. Dugdale might be the first to walk on Mars, but Willie would be the first to make contact with extra-terrestrials. He sat trying to picture what they might look like. All sorts of weird images of blobby things with claws and spines and clusters of eyes on stalks assailed him. Some armed with axes, others with laser guns. He tried to backtrack and imagined them picking flowers and singing songs.

Just then, the sound of the door opening signified someone’s arrival. Instantly, Willie hunched over the screen, like a classroom swot shielding his exam paper from prying eyes.

Zak floated into the cockpit. “What you hidin’ there, pardner? Unscreen the detection machine, man.”

“Not hiding anything,” said Willie with an air of innocence, moving more of himself in the way.

“That’s an order, space-bud.”

“Hah! You can’t order me.”

“Senior lieutenant, dude.”

“Since when?”

“I’m older and bolder than you, space-trooper. And whose Pa’s runnin’ this mish to Mars?”

“How could I forget? Zak Johnston, son of Mission Control Director Montgomery Johnston achieves the totally believable score of 110% in the final Space Cadet Academy exam, despite never having been to any of the lectures.”

“Surprised myself there. But here I am, beamin’ amaze-rays wherever I go. Now show, bro.”

“Nope.”

Zak launched himself across the room and tried to peer round his crewmate, first one way, then another. “Remind me, space-geek, what exactamundo does this machine display onscreen?”

“Ha! I’d have thought Mr 110-percent would know that.”

Zak ground his teeth. “Missed that class. Dodgy grass.”

Willie snorted.

Zak clamped himself to his crewmate’s back, hooking his goatee-bearded chin over the other’s shoulder. Willie squirmed at the close contact with an unwashed man; worse still, a man with food particles lodged in his rancid beard. But he was determined to protect his discovery at all costs and grasped the screen even more firmly.

“Did you have any reason for coming to see me, or was it just to give me a hug?”

“Nearly slipped my mind,” said Zak, releasing his grip on Willie. “The Zakster brings news of an urgent job for mankind. From the Big Guy. Uncle Duggers. Seems InspectaBot’s been neglectin’ his inspectin’.”

“What?”

“Stranded not landed.”

“Come again?”

“The robosurveyor ain’t budgin’. The crazy dude’s just trudgin’ outside the ship. Like a trash can waitin’ for bin day. Flinto wants his top guy on the case.”

“Really?”

“No man, not really. The top guy’s on a cake-break. So you gotta sort it.”

“Great,” said Willie. Still covering the scanner with an elbow he turned to the observation screen and switched between external cameras until he found one showing the slowly cart-wheeling robot outside. He let out a sigh of exasperation and tapped the microphone on the comms console. “Calling InspectaBot. Come in, InspectaBot. Do you read me? Over.”

“Identify yourself!” came the brusque, metallic response.

“This is Lieutenant William Hilda Warner of Mayflower III respectfully calling InspectaBot 360. Over.”

Zak sniggered. “So that’s what the ‘H’ stands for! Suits you, dude.”

“It’s a family name, not a girl’s name.”

“No, dude, that’s a girl’s name.”

The metallic voice boomed out of the speakers, “Please enter your 16-digit PIN code followed by the hash key.”

Willie turned to Zak. “What’s the PIN code?”

Zak shrugged.

“I don’t have a PIN code,” Willie said into the microphone.

“Very well, you will need to answer a security question.”

“Go on.”

“What was the name of the first girl you kissed?”

Zak sniggered again.

Willie turned to him. “You can go now. I can take it from here.”

“Sure man. Understood. Private info.”

Willie drummed his fingers, waiting for the other lieutenant to leave. “Bet it was Mandy Minger, Space Cadet School swinger,” said Zak as he edged towards the door.

Zak reached the door but then floated back into the room. “I’m taking this with me,” he said, grabbing the PredictoHarness and floating out of the door with it.

“What was the name of the first girl you kissed?” repeated InspectaBot.

Willie looked around to make sure Zak had gone and whispered into the microphone, “None. I’ve never kissed a girl.”

“Nun?”

“Yes, none.”

“Answer mismatch. Identification failure. A new security PIN code will be issued.”

“When?”

“Two weeks.”

“This is ridiculous. Ask me another security question.”

“What is your mother’s bra size?”

“Easy. 40DD,” responded Willie without hesitation.

“Caller identified. How can I help you today, Lieutenant William Hilda Warner?”

“InspectaBot 360, could you please report your status?”

“Roger. Current status: stalled. Awaiting new instructions.”

“The new instructions are the same as the old ones, InspectaBot. Your mission is to perform a full building inspection of Botany Base to certify it as habitable. Do you understand?”

“Affirmative.”

“Off you go, then.”

“Inspection of base not possible.”

“Why?”

“Not within visual range.”

“No, obviously. You’re still in orbit.”

“Current altitude 57,842 feet.”

“Exactly. So you need to address that issue first. Have a good day.”

“Please advise.”

Willie sighed. “Look, land down on the planet, tootle across to the base and start inspecting. Couldn’t be simpler.”

“Landing permission refused.”

This stumped Willie. “What? That’s Mars down there, not Heathrow Terminal 3. Who refused you?” Even as he asked the question a cold shiver ran down his spine. Was it possible the aliens down there had already made contact with InspectaBot? Had they forbidden him to land? How had they done it? What had they said? With threats, or without?

“HarVard,” answered the robot.

“You mean the base’s supercomputer?”

“Affirmative.”

The tension in Willie’s muscles relaxed. “Phew. Please ignore HarVard. He has no right to refuse you permission. Although the fact that he’s trying to sounds suspicious. What reason did he give?”

“Transmitting message.”

Willie saw HarVard’s message appear on a screen to his right. He leaned over to read it. “My dear InspectaBot 360. What an inordinate pleasure to hear from you. We are greatly looking forward to meeting you in person and having the honour of hosting you when you come to carry out your important mission. We trust you will replace everything in order. In the meantime, may I request a teensie, weensie little favour? Would you mind awfully delaying your landing for a bit as the base isn’t quite ready for inspection.”

Willie let out an involuntary laugh. “They’ve only been working on it for the past five years!”

He continued reading. “You see, it’s the builder bots. They’re such perfectionists. They want everything to be just right for the humans. Premature inspection would break their little clockwork hearts. There isn’t much to do, really, just a few last-minute soft furnishings that need arranging, but even so they’d rather you didn’t see it until it is all finished.”

Willie cleared his throat. “Technically, that’s not a refusal to land.”

“There’s a postscript,” said InspectaBot.

Willie scrolled down the screen. “PS I will reopen the landing pad when we’re all ready for you. Perhaps you could pop back in, let’s say, a month?”

Lieutenant Warner shook his head. “Now look here, 360. I am ordering you to ignore HarVard and go down there and carry out your duty. That’s an order, OK?”

“Landing pad unavailable.”

“OK, let’s think this through, shall we? We have a large planet down there. So you can actually land anywhere you like. Just pick your spot. Got that?”

A pause. “Risk assessment: terrain sandy, uneven, rock-strewn, pot-holed. Poses a 37.4% possibility of impact damage.”

“Just Do It ... That Is An Order.”

“Received and understood.”

As Willie glared at the image of InspectaBot on the screen he noticed a puff of gas emit from the robot’s behind and its metallic body start to drift towards the planet.

“Well, that was immensely rewarding,” Willie said to himself. But then he looked back at the peculiar message from HarVard. Why was the supercomputer stalling and seemingly denying InspectaBot the chance to land? Did he, perhaps, have something to hide? Was it anything to do with the aliens?