* * * * *
The crew sat on deckchairs in the direct sun while 234 and Bink inspected the ship's legs and the underside of the hull for marks and burns. Wingclipper inhaled deeply on his cigar and spluttered out a carcinogenic plume of fog. He turned to Elwood and Rodeena with a deeply ingrained smile, sighed heavily and arched his head back to get some rays on his neck.
"I don't see how this is helping," said Elwood.
"We sit this one out and wait for the creature to let go of the ceiling."
"So your answer is for us to do nothing?" said Rodeena.
"Of course, maiden. Why bother to try and rip its furry arms from the wiring? It will only damage the ship and provoke the creature into a frenzy. We have a rare glimpse of direct sunlight and an opportunity to absorb vitamin D. Or you can wait inside the ship in the darkness, get cold and bored hoping the hair bear will decide to come down on its own. This cigar is, how do you liberal spiritual types say it...divine?"
As Wingclipper drew another impossibly long puff, the engine of the Chromium Bullet ignited and switched to idle, causing 234 and Bink to immediately remove themselves from the underside and to signal attention to the others. Wingclipper stood up with instant elasticity and ran towards the ramp. Elwood moved hesitantly and then stooped into his seat.
"Should we help out?" he said.
"No. We can sit this one out," said Rodeena, opening a magazine and sipping Wingclipper's drink.
"Captain? What is happening?" said 234 as he followed Wingclipper in desperation into the ship's corridor. The hull began to rock from side to side with the increase in thrust, and Wingclipper covered his ears.
"Get the child of the planet of the apes out of my cockpit!" he yelled at his robotic assistant.
"Captain, it sounds like you said you want me to get the grapes out of a cock and put them in my armpit. Do we have chickens on board?"
Wingclipper raced into the cockpit and found the hairy critter pushing several buttons at once, yanking and pushing the thrust levers. It giggled and gurgled as Wingclipper threw his arms around it and tried to pry its fingers from the thrust. 234 grabbed Wingclipper from behind, wrapped its arms around both of them and pulled with extreme might. There was a snap, Wingclipper and the hairy one slammed into the dashboard, and 234 was left standing with half a thrust lever in his grip. Seconds later, the engine spluttered to a standstill, there was an eerie silence, a creaking of metal, an unhealthy shudder in the hull and then the world turned ninety degrees on its side. Elwood and Rodeena witnessed the entire incident from the comfort of their deck chairs.
"We should probably go and help out now," said Rodeena.
With the aid of the side boosters, 234 spent fifteen minutes rocking the ship from its side position using the exceptional strength in its arms. Its pneumatics worked into overdrive, and with one final cementing push, the ship passed the forty-five degree point, hopped unsteadily from foot to foot as it tried to stay upright, then fell on to its other side, revealing Wingclipper and the hairy one upside down with their faces pressed against the cockpit window.
"Did that work?" said 234 over its intercom.
"I am going to swap your arms and legs over, then reinstall your skull and wiring upside down and in all the wrong portholes," said Wingclipper on the cockpit radio. "Then we would have more in common right now."
When 234 had finished rocking the ship back into an upright position, the crew assessed the overall damage. One of the landing legs had a kink and a few panels on the side were ruptured. As a result, the chances of the ship vaporising during the next re-entry were significantly increased, causing Elwood some distress.
"We are going to get these replaced before we land on the next planet, right? Right?" he said as Wingclipper inspected the damage.
"I'm wondering if we can hold out for a bit longer. Have you seen our budget recently?"
The hairy one sat taped to a command room chair as 234 and Elwood repaired the overhead electrics, soldering wires and running entire lengths of cable across from one end of the ceiling to the other. Wingclipper sat facing the critter. It looked around like an excited toddler and eyed up its next victim for a violent swarm of incoherent biting and wrecking.
"I don't know what you are, and to be honest I don't really care. But know this. You are the reason I am never having children. Are you a spy? Are you a criminal? Who sent you? Are you on a reconnaissance mission? We have something of sizeable value to your race, don't we? You have been sent on a mission of theft."
The hairy one struggled to free its arms and rocked the chair vehemently.
"I know you can understand me, you putrid scummy mop. I know my words are making you incredibly nervous, so you may as well confess."
It rested briefly and then began to sob. Tears rolled down its exposed cheeks and disappeared into the thickness of matted hair, and its thick prominent lips began to blubber and tremble. Rodeena entered and instantly gauged what was happening, freeing the creature from the chair and cradling it in her lap. It sucked its thumb and played with Rodeena's hair.
"You're scaring the poor thing," she said, and Wingclipper threw his hands up in resignation.
"All I'm doing is trying to elicit an appropriate response. It's not like I am interrogating the damned thing. It really doesn't have a choice but to try and communicate with us. What else is around that can understand it?"
"Relatives," shouted Elwood from the cockpit, and from the other direction, 234 rushed along the corridor to provide an update.
"Captain, we are not alone out here."
"234, this isn't time for one of your lectures about the existence of the supernatural."
"Come and see for yourself," said Elwood in a serious manner from the cockpit doorway. Wingclipper arose leisurely and picked at his teeth, walked into the cockpit, looked out of the window and stopped dead in his tracks.