The Other Side Of Planet Hy Man: Planet Hy Man, #5

By Kerrie Noor

Those on Planet Hy Man thought they were the only women on the Planet until a sea of mechanical rats exploded onto the scene.
 
H2, still reeling from the near pandemic of COVID-19, has turned from a fearless leader to an agoraphobic who struggles to open a window. She pins her hopes on Woody until Woody's mother is abducted.

 

No one knew Woody had a mother, let alone that she was on the planet, and when the shock subsides H2 realizes the only thing they know about kidnapping is Mel Gibson's film Ransom. They are not alone and before H2 can access the genius that is Woody, he is off and as out of reach as a defunct satellite.

 

Will H2 rise to the occasion and embrace the leader she was? Will she collaborate share resources, or take a leaf out of Earth's defense strategies and blow the other city up?

 

The Other Side Of Planet Hy Man is the fifth book in the Planet Hy Man series, a Sci-Fi comedy where Women rule, and any man left has given up. If you crave fast-paced satire, and meticulously crafted universes then buy The Other Side Of Planet Hy Man today!

• Language: English
• Publisher: Kerrie Noor
• Release date: Apr 30, 2024
• ISBN: 9781914327155

Kerrie Noor

A few years ago I married into a Bangladesh family often helping in their Indian restaurant on the West Coast of Scotland. Living in a culture so different from my own I began to see stories in outsiders trying to understand. Most of the time I was the only woman and I often wondered about a world without men; before I knew it Planet Hy Man was born, a comedy Sc Fi Rebel Without a Clue being the first in the series. Kerrie has been shortlisted for the Ashram Short Story Competition and has had two radio plays performed.

Book preview

PART ONE

Reading lips is not the same as reading minds

PROLOGUE

A dwarf woman with blue skin stood at the river and wrung out her clothes. She stared at the sun. She liked to do her washing before the sun was high in the sky and burnt her skin. This morning she was up even earlier than usual, she had a busy day and wanted to get her smalls done and dusted, before the day began.

She flapped her threadbare underpants, held them up to the sun, and was just in the middle of wondering how much life was left in the crotch, when she heard a rustle: a nibble? Or was it sucking?

She stopped, looked down from her knickers and there inches from the crotch was a rat – the biggest metallic android she had ever seen – licking its paws like it had just tucked into a succulent something and was looking for more.

And before she could shout, scream, knock it down or indeed flap it senseless with her knickers, the rat (along with those knickers) disappeared with a magician-like snatch that had the dwarf woman breathless and cursing at the same time.

Chapter One

WOODY

Being right is not always welcome – Pete

Are you sure there are no other cities? Not even one? said Woody.

Pete, scrolling through his latest-just-out-of-its-box H-Pad (Planet Hy Man’s iPad equivalent, with bells on) didn’t look up. Woody waffling on about how the rest of the planet could not possibly be empty was nothing new. The first time Woody asked such questions Pete was stumped, now he didn’t bat an eyelid.

"There really is no one else?" said Woody.

Pete, engrossed in photos of Earth’s street performers, said nothing.

No other cities, or towns?

Pete sighed, flicking onto pictures of male performers dressed as females.

You can’t just be the only inhabitants? Not even a village shop?

There is no such thing as a village on planet Hy Man, said Pete. Nor a shop.

What about the market place?

That’s different, said Pete. The market is, well… He stopped, lost for words.

Pete had been a PA robot for Mex, an ex-Man Spy, Planet Hy Man’s elite. All that changed when he landed on Earth and, well, virtually saved Planet Hy Man, before returning with his new best mate, Woody.

Woody a real live male dwarf from Earth had elevated Pete’s status to more than a robot. There had been no male babies for decades and decades on planet Hy Man and the only men left were tall, anorexic-lean, ancient, doddery retired footmen. They were so old they looked mummified, which made touching them as attractive as having your teeth pulled with no anaesthetic. Woody, a young man in his twenties, changed all that.

The women watching Earth on their H-pads, swooned like teenage girls when Woody appeared on their screens and almost fainted when he, along with Pete, ‘saved their planet’. And when his fresh wrinkle-free smile bounced onto the planet itself, the women were swept off their feet, proclaiming their undying gratitude to Pete for, ‘making such a gift possible’.

Woody had been brought up in a family that laughed at him, with a mother who talked about his chances of finding love being as small as his height. Yet here on Planet Hy Man he was a god. Women stopped to admire, watch him walk by. They hung on his every word, like he was the next Buddha. But Woody, unlike Pete, was embarrassed about the whole thing.

And now he was driving Pete insane with his ‘there must be others on the planet’ questions.

Woody had no plans to live on another planet, in fact he had no plans for anything and was as aimless as misspent sperm, dreaming his life away in coffee shops, pen poised. He dreamt of being Scotland’s Terry Pratchett, of his books flying off the shelves at Waterstones, of fans lining up for his signature. All he needed was to finish, well, start a book. Now on Planet Hy Man everything was in front of him, he only had to write down what he saw, but one thing niggled him: this planet…there just had to be more than one city, more than one race of women.

Of course they maintained they were the only ones, there was none but them living on the planet. They said their ancestors had landed, discovered and civilised the planet, albeit said ancestors killed all the four-legged creatures, all the water creatures, and just about everything that breathed. The women were so sure of this, they didn’t even have a name for the city, just called it ‘the city’ or ‘our place.’

But how could they truly know, thought Woody. When they didn’t even have a map, let alone a history of exploration.

Still the market is a shop of sorts, it still sells things, said Woody.

It’s not a shop…and we would know if there was another.

How? said Woody

We just would.

What about the emporium, then? said Woody.

The emporium is but a mere memory. Pete sighed again. He flicked onto pictures of burlesque performers. He couldn’t care less about other cities and people, he had enough on his plate, he had his fame to uphold.

Earth had changed Pete, made him all squidgy with human feelings, tough with ambition, addicted to attention, and sometimes a little jealous.

He loved to entertain the Planet Hy Man women with his Earth stories, such as his ‘Edinburgh Festival adventure’, what a flapjack tasted like, and the joys of patting a real dog, and Pete loved to do it dressed as an Earth woman. Dressing as a woman was how he blended in on earth and he hadn’t stopped since. He was addicted to the swish of nylon, the tightness of a bra and the clip of a heel. As for lipstick, he had a drawer full.

Pete could rustle up an outfits quicker than a robot could pant ‘where’s my lubricant?’, which was just as well because the other robots looked up to him. Within months of his arrival back from Earth they all wanted to look like him. Bras were soon all the rage and it wasn’t long before Pete’s spare time was spent giving advice on underwire. Spurred on by such success he acquired a small shed, filled it with robotic tailors and started his ‘finding the woman in robots’ venture: feminine outfits for robots of any shape, any size. They sold off-the-peg outfits at the market, and took measurements in a wobbly tent behind the stall for those of unusual shapes. Nothing was too much trouble for Pete and his tailors and soon he had a following. With good old- fashion marketing he doubled that following.

He wrote books on the subject, and held meetings, claiming that he liberated the robot to ‘almost woman status’ with a bra, a corset and a wig. And it wasn’t long before the city was full of metallic strutting androids done up like drag queens and cheering most women up, even the leader H2 and her sidekicks DBO and Vegas.

Thanks to Pete the city was now a colourful, prettier place – and Pete had more plans.

He wanted to retire from his official role of supporting the leadership team, retire from his work in the scientific shed ‘investigating things’, and devote all his time to his passion, the ‘finding the woman in robots’ venture. He wanted to elevate the dress code, create better outfits, dresses for every occasion, clothes befitting his status. To create the corset to end all corsets, maybe even create a troupe of performers and impress not just the robots but the women too.

What do you think of this? He shoved a picture of Dita Von Tease under Woody’s nose.

It silenced Woody for a least a few days.

Chapter Two

BOOK SIGNING

The best signatures come with a smile – Pete

The second time Woody asked, Mex was dealing with a mechanical rat situation and Pete was reluctantly advising her. There was more than the usual number loitering about the bins and Mex, months into her new semi-retired advisory status, was curious. She had never known rats to loiter before, especially in groups.

Are you sure there are no other countries on this planet? Woody was handing around mugs of steaming caffeine.

What? said Mex lifting a lifeless mechanical rat with a sniff.

He means like in China and India, said Pete.

We don’t have takeaways here, joked Mex.

No one laughed.

He means separate countries, said Pete.

Mex turned to Woody with a flummoxed look, she couldn’t thing of an answer and felt, well, stupid. Like Pete, Mex never thought of such a thing, no one did on Planet Hy Man.

The third time Woody asked Pete they were in the market place. Pete was showing off his latest look of red-everything-with-a-black-wig. He had just developed a new corset range, a corset so tight that bending was impossible. Pete, rigidly upright, was holding court with his ‘I’ve been to earth and back and definitely wouldn’t do it again without a bra’ story, while Woody handed out signed copies of his The Tale of Two Robots memoirs, and Mex, with Woody’s Nokia, dealt with the cash.

On Earth, Woody’s Nokia was an out of date phone that constantly needing charging up. On Planet Hy Man, the atmosphere charged its inner circuits, transforming it into a super sleek, mind of its own, smart-arsed interconnect-or, way above the abilities of even an H-Pad. It took a bit of getting used to for Woody, for it had answer for everything, recorded everything and could calculate on a par with Albert Einstein.

At the market, there was a queue a mile long, all hanging on Pete’s every word – or so Pete thought, until the Nokia pointed out that the queue was in front of Woody.

Woody, catching Pete’s stiff face, slid his Nokia to ‘rest’, sparking a ring tone that faded away as he slid it into his pocket.

Pete was signing another book when Woody popped the question again. What do you mean? he asked, playing for ‘thinking up a decent answer’ time.

You know, like on Earth, China…India…

We don’t do takeaways here, muttered the stall owner next to them.

Nobody laughed.

We are but a solitary civilisation, said Pete.

I find that hard to believe, said Woody.

Pete, still signing, sighed. You Earth folk, you always think you know everything.

What’s civilisation, Woody? yelled a small voice at the back of the queue.

Something us Earth folk know a lot of. Woody handed the book to the young woman.

She sighed, reached to touch him, then with a blush pulled back.

But we know more, said Pete, and there is no other civilisation here.

Has anyone looked? said the small voice at the back of the queue.

Pete yelled across to Mex who was now giving the cash box a bit of a dust. Mex, you seen any Chinas lately?

Mex looked up confused.

Has anyone? yelled Pete, expecting a laugh.

My pal says she seen things, said an older woman.

What? said Woody.

Rats.

Rats are always loitering around, they’re everywhere, aren’t they Woody? said the stall owner.

You’re never more than six feet from a rat, ain’t that right, Woody? The young woman added.

Not sure… muttered Woody.

I think you’ll find that is on Earth, said Pete.

Is that right, Woody? chorused a few women.

But these are different, said the older woman.

How? said the stall owner.

They are bigger and dopier, as if they’re on something, said the older woman.

Robots are always revolving, said the stall owner.

You mean evolving, said the small voice at the back of the queue.

They all looked at Woody waiting for a pearl of wisdom.

None came.

My pal said it didn’t run, even when she took a swipe at it…it just rolled onto its back, said the older woman.

I have seen them, too, yelled a husky voice. Over there.

A rumble of disapproval rattled through the crowd as it looked up at the tall Building of Opulence dominating the skyline. It was the most expensive building on Planet Hy Man, being that it was for those who ruled – H2 and her leadership team.

Not there, said the husky voice. "There…" Her brown hand pointed to the basement.

The women gasped.

The basement was a ghost pit of the past, with the sort of creaky ship wreck noises that would scare the comatose. Years ago it was a gym, producing energy for the planet, until solar power came into its own. Now empty, it was merely a storage facility for out of date equipment that didn’t cut the mustard. The only time anyone went there, was to dump and run.

Someone tripped over one the other day, said the husky voice. That’s how big it was. She was so shaken she got a day off…

No! gasped a few.

…and compensation.

They stared at the empty building, almost willing a rat to emerge.

Chapter Three

RATS

Overlook the small at your peril – The Great Almanac Of Records

It was several weeks before Woody mentioned it again. This time they were down in the basement investigating more reports of unexplained rat activity. Well, they would be if they could get the door open, it was as stuck as a jam jar’s lid, and Pete’s key jiggling was getting nowhere fast.

He tossed the keys across the cobbled floor. These are useless.

Woody handed him another set. You sure there are no other cities, or towns?

Pete tried the keys.

You can’t just be the only inhabitants?

Pete flicked on the high beam of his latest-just-out-of-its-box wrist illuminator (WI) and stared at the keyhole in the door.

It’s a perfectly normal question, said Woody.

Silence.

Anyone on earth would ask.

Well, we are not on Earth. Pete rattled a key. And from what I can remember, normal is just a word down there.

Woody threw Pete a look. I only asked.

Your asking is turning into nagging. Pete looked round. Maybe there’s one of those old-fashioned keypads somewhere?

No keypads, said the automative voice of the WI.

Or a lock to pick, said Pete.

Negative, no lock, said the WI.

Oh, muttered Pete, and Mex will be here any minute…

And her patience is as non-existent as her oestrogen, joked Woody.

Pete said nothing. He was fed up. There he was, just stitches away from the most perfect of corsets when the leader, H2 demands an investigation…like he should just drop everything, call up Woody and Mex, get the team together.

The team that always got results.

Pete couldn’t give a rat’s arse for them or Woody’s questions, let alone his jokes. What did he care about rumours of strange rats? Why was it his job to go and find out?

Woody huffed, and was about to ask, What’s up with you? and maybe pick a fight, when Mex’s WI lit up the dark passage. Her heeled boots clattered on the cobbled floor, along with the swooshing of the sweeper robot and the mechanical rolling of The Helmet (a robot shaped like a helmet).

Pete and Woody watched as the light from Mex’s WI grew stronger.

The Calvary has arrived, muttered Woody.

Mex stopped at the door as the sweeper robot crashed into her heels.

‘Why did you bring them?’ Pete asked.

I had no choice. Mex rubbed her heels. "The powers that be want everything done by the book."

Despite greying about the temples, Mex, an ex-Man Spy still wielded power with her legs, although she did have her vague moments. She was useless at technical things, more a ‘kick and grab’ rather than a ‘let’s pull it apart and see how it works’ sort of hero. Her idea of recycling was to stamp, smash and shovel the pieces into a compost bin, and her understanding of organic was as limited as her understanding of how a man rose to the occasion.

She threw a swift karate kick.

Pete and Woody ducked.

The door’s ancient wood splintered into kindling.

That door wasn’t made yesterday, she muttered with a smug hand dusting.

Perhaps a less wham bam approach would have been more beneficial, said Pete.

Why fanny around with lubricants and keys when…a good kick…

We’ll have to get a new door now, said Pete. Not to mention the paperwork.

The robots, illuminating a path of light, trundled past Mex and Pete into the basement. They crashed into each other with a holt. Retreat, retreat.

Pete and Mex lit up the basement with their WIs, Woody used his Nokia.

They all gasped.

The floor was littered with mechanical rats, on their backs, their legs air-cycling uselessly and their eyes rolling into the backs of their heads. The rats had nibbled their way through the effluent in the basement, the liquids and fluid from the old H-Pads, C- Pads, and any other bits and pieces no one knew what to do with.

The three looked closer.

Don’t get too close, warned the Nokia.

Mex sniffed. What’s that smell?

In fact, probably best to evacuate, the Nokia continued.

Mex shone her light on the crumbling wall. You see that?

Like now! said the Nokia.

Warning, warning, automated the helmet. Retreat, retreat…

Run, shouted Nokia. Now!

Boom!

The three charged back down the corridor, hurdling over the two robots, zig- zagging in high speed gear about their heels. Danger, danger.

Get out of my way.

Move!

They leapt out of the exit door and with a Mission Impossible-Tom Cruise dive, landed in the back alley.

A muffled boom filled the building.

Mex somersaulted onto her feet and ran.

Woody stumbled into a run.

Pete cartwheeled several times before stopping with a lunge and twist to see if his pal was there.

Women in the street stopped, stared.

The sweeper robot and helmet rolled onto the street. Danger, danger.

Danger? Where?

The basement…Run!

Boom.

Boom.

Boom.

Women in the street started to scream, and to panic run.

Boom.

Boom.

Crash.

A rat scurried past, winding between the wheels of the helmet, almost tripping it up.

Danger, dang…er.

Boom.

Crash.

Crash.

Woody, mid run, skipped over a rat and turned back.

The basement building was imploding and a mushroom cloud of dust rose up. Woody stopped, and with a stumble pulled out his Nokia to film a sea of mechanical rats spilling out from the cloud, like larva from a volcano. He watched as the smoke settled and the dystopian shell of the roofless building emerged, its crumbled walls on the edge of collapse.

Silence.

That was some leak, said Woody.

Leak? said Nokia. That is more than a leak.

By the time Woody, Pete and Mex got to their feet, the leadership team had seen everything. Woody’s Nokia had a direct link to Alice, a sphere robot that sailed through the air projecting footage. Alice was instrumental in the latest ‘portal to Earth’ crisis, which elevated her from an annoying ‘hide, here she comes’ robot to an integral part of the ruling team.

A team who, when they couldn’t find her, were known to shout, Where’s Alice?

Something is causing the rats to nibble what they shouldn’t, Nokia transmitted to Alice, both of them unaware their connections had been compromised, that another had full access – another that those on Planet Hy Man had no idea existed.

Days later the city was still reeling. The public was in a state of shock, and the leadership team in turmoil. Films and photos had gone viral, played on every WI owned, watched and rewatched, and still no one had any idea how the explosion happened. An explosion in their city was as probable as pregnancy, as probable as a male stripper appearing from the bushes and presenting his manhood.

And the rats kept coming, appearing from the rubble, swarming into the streets, like a plague of locusts. Crazed, stoned, they rolled over and exploded, leaving that little bit that cats always left when they ate a mouse – not that anyone knew about that until Woody pointed it out.

Chapter Four

THE BLUE WOMAN

Fifty shades of blue died with the last man – The Great Almanac Of Records

The blue woman stared at her empty hands. Her name was Audrey, no surname, no middle name just one plain straightforward name, like most of her class. Audrey hadn’t seen a metallic friggin’ rat in years she, like most blue women thought they had all but disappeared, gone, like the four-legged creatures…

Well, friggin’ good luck to you, she thought, those