Regulations demanded that there should always be two guards on duty at the outer entrance gate to the FOF. Most of the time it was a routine task, either checking the
“What the fuck!” Jim jumped up from his chair and hit the side of the Terra Vis box. As if in response to this fixing method, the message slowly appeared. “They better fix it fast,” he said as its import sunk in. “I've got big creds riding on that game.”
“How about the sound cast?” suggested Hank. “I think the sets under the desk.”
Eagerly Jim bent down, rummaged through the miscellaneous boxes of hardly used equipment and grabbed the set. Blowing the dust from it he switched it on and fiddled with the tuning and volume controls but there was no sound.
“Plug it in,” Hank advised him. “The batteries are probably flat.”
Jim opened the back compartment, pulled out the cord inside and plugged it in to to an outlet. Immediately the guard room was filled with the loud hiss of static. Jim fiddled with the controls again but it was useless.
“Fuck!” he shouted angrily throwing the set against the wall where its case smashed, cracking open on impact. Its shattered pieces, as well as those of the components dislodged from inside, fell to the floor in a rain of broken bits. “Fuck!” Jim repeated.
“Shut it!” Hank said urgently sitting up to stare through the window at the landing area outside. “We've got company.”
Although the perimeter screens were still working the two guards hadn't been watching them and now a big black flycar was in the process of setting down on the landing pad outside. By the insignia on its side Hank knew right off that something must be seriously wrong. A visit from the Free World Union Corporation Secret Service always meant trouble.
Jim stared at the ominous looking machine. “FWUCSS,” he said.
General Pike entered his office, crossed over to the filing cabinet, unlocked the bottom drawer, and pulled out the special bottle with a tumbler upended over its top secreted within. He kept it there for personal emergency use only, which this quite certainly was. Taking off the tumbler he placed it on his desk, unscrewed the lid of the bottle, splashed a generous amount of golden liquid into the glass and while still standing, picked it up and swallowed it down in one rapid gulp. Then he poured himself another and sat down in his Form Fit Made Just 4 U chair behind the vast expanse of his empty but for an inter-com and surveillance screen desk to wait. And wait, and wait some more during which time he drank two more shots. He was just about to turn on the inter-com and scream furiously at someone about the delay, when there was a knock on the door.
“Enter.”
The SDO came in.
“Well?”
“I'm sorry sir. All outside lines are down.”
“Down?”
“Yes sir. Down.”
General Pike slumped in his chair closed his eyes and shook his head slowly from side to side. “Unbelievable!”
“One other thing sir.”
The General's eyes popped open and his back straightened. “What?” he snapped.
The SDO braced himself for what he hoped wouldn't come but knew would. “A FWUCSS flycar has landed at the gate sir and the two agents on board are demanding immediate entry.”
“FWUCSS? What in Hals name for?”
“Sir. They say an alien was recently picked up with the recruits and they want him as of now.”
An alien! Synapses in General Pike's brain fired up and kicked off into overdrive as an icy cold chill suddenly ran down his spine. He recalled the incident of two days ago when JO Gunn had spoken to him of an alien because the indication lights all showed red. Perhaps they had been of significance after all and they really did have an alien in the FOF. With a slightly shaking hand he poured himself another drink and gulped it down.
“If you turn on your screen and intercom sir,” the SDO began, “you'll see for yourself . . .”
“When I want your advice on what to do I'll ask for it you smart arse little piece of shit!” the General roared. “Get out! Get out now!”
JUP Brady was lost. She had been tramping through a winding complex of tubes for what seemed to her like hours without finding any doors that would open for her or anybody to speak to. Her head was still aching in spite of the MyGraways she had taken and her feet were killing her. High heeled shoes had their merits, giving the calves of her legs more shape and supplying her with the extra height she felt she needed in her position as a Corporate Keeper, but they were useless when it came to walking any real distance and removing them would mean a loss of dignity when she did find someone as only the lowest class of persons went barefoot and besides, the surface she was walking on was rather distasteful being covered in a thin layer of sticky black dust. She retrieved her dispenser from her purse, took two more pills and then leaning her back against the curving wall of the tube she rested for a few minutes, all the while listening for the sound of a train and hoping for rescue.
General Pike and the SDO arrived in the reception area just as the two agents and the three Andy Guards alighted from their black flycar, parked directly outside in total disregard of the nearby marked spaces and the yellow no standing stripes painted on the ground where it stood. Through the opening doors they marched, coming to a stop just inside. Neither the General or the SDO had met FWUCSS personnel face to face before but they had seen them on the Terra Vision and the five standing before them fitted the screen picture. The three Guards wore shining silver suits and their matching helmets with reflective visors bore the SS insignia. They had heavy black boots on their feet and wide black belts strapped about their waists with various devices fastened handy on them including Tanglers, the only completely nonlethal weapon allowed any Andy, which is what they were. The two agents, clothed entirely in black wore plain caps with deep stiff peaks and no identifying sign on them. Their eyes were concealed behind mirrored wrap around spectacles and bulging masks with voice distorters covered the lower half of their faces. The long dark coats they wore just cleared the toes of their highly polished black boots offered complete concealment for anything, weapons or otherwise, that they might be carrying.
One of the Guards marched forward and halted with a click of it's heels in front of General Pike and the SDO. It saluted with one arm, then pulled the clipboard it carried out from under the other.
“Requisition form number 778549771-634,” the Guard said in a toneless voice thrusting it forward in the General's direction. “Intelligence has come to the FWUCSS attention regarding the infiltration of an alien presence into these premises. You are hereby ordered to release the aforementioned alien presence into the custody of agents C721 and K550 forthwith by order of FWUCSS Super Commander in Chief. Please read the papers enclosed in the folder and endorse them as officially required in the spaces provided in acknowledgement of their receipt.”
The General automatically took hold of the clipboard. A stiff black folder with FWUCSS embossed in gold on the front cover was attached to it, and he could see right away that the folder was very thick, so he opened it and riffled quickly through the stack of papers inside. They were all of the same standard size, all furnished with the FWUCSS insignia at the top, and all filled very nearly edge to edge with rows of tightly packed very small print except for the very bottom of each page where there was a rectangular box with his name printed large beneath it.
“Sir.” The General glanced up at the heavy gold pen with FWUCCS stamped on the barrel that the Andy Guard was offering him. “Regulations also require that this pen must be used when signing. It contains the only indelible ink officially approved for the purpose.”
General Pike grunted his acquiescence to the request and taking hold of the pen turned to the first page in the folder. He made a valiant effort to read it, bending his head to squint down at the printed words in the hope that he might decipher the prolix packed jargon filled officialese of the requisition. Yet even as he attempted to bring the print into focus, the letters wriggled as if they had a life of their own and the lines blurred before his eyes. Realising that it would never do to let this lot know that he was unable to make any sense out of what was written right in front of him, General Pike did the only thing possible under the circumstances. With a series of serious frowns, and nods, and indeterminate snorts, he carefully pretended to peruse the documents, slowly, one by one, from top to bottom, extending the time taken on each page for as long as he considered plausible before penning his cryptic signature on the bottom of each one in the box provided as he finished with it. When the last page had been dealt with he closed the folder straightened up and handed it back. The Guard placed it under one arm, took a pace in reverse, saluted, then turned and marched back into his former place.
Then the group from FwUCCS stood stiffly silent, apparently waiting for something. General Pike was a little puzzled by this, until the taller of the two agents his distorted voice sharp with impatience said, “Jump to it man! You just read the order! Where are the recruits that were picked up two days ago?”
Hastily the General countered with, “How do I know that your request is official? Contact with the outside is off line at the moment and without any possible way of checking your credentials, I'm afraid I must insist that we wait until the lines are open before any action is taken.”
“Then you must be prepared to face the consequences.”
“What do you mean, consequences? Is that supposed to be some sort of threat? I'll have you know that I'm in charge here and I'm well aware of the responsibilities of my position.”
“Repeat the relevant Act for General Pike, G956.”
A different guard to the first took a step forward and said in a flat monotone, “Under regulation number 846 bar 23 regarding the Presence of Identified Alien Invaders and Their Immediate Apprehension, amendment number twelve, sub paragraph three; the penalty for disobedience of a direct order regarding extraction of the aforementioned alien, is summary execution.”
“Execution? Are you sure?”
“Summary execution.”
“Right,” said the General feeling rather unsettled by this advice. “I've never heard of . . . um.” He frowned in the FWUCCS direction for a moment or two, knowing there was something wrong with their appearance. Then it came to him. “But what about your FOF safety badges? All visitors must have them and I don't see yours.
“FWUCSS personnel have no need of such devices. We wear tags which allow us universal access into anywhere we have need to go.”
“Humph!” The General considered his options and upon concluding that there were none said, “Very well. If you say so. But be it on your own heads if anything happens.” He leaned toward the SDO beside him and with one hand only partly concealing his mouth spoke loudly enough for all to hear. “In case the security cameras are off line too, and there's any sort of argument about all this, make a note of everything that has been said here Officer. I'll need your back up if anything does go wrong.”
“Yes sir,” said the SDO hastily pulling a note book and pen from his top pocket and beginning to scribble in it.
“This way now if you please,” the General said to the waiting group and with a wave of his hand he turned smartly about, marched over to the lift and keyed in his command code. The doors opened and he and the still note taking SDO ushered the five FWUCSS personnel inside.
JUP Brady found the partly open door set in an alcove off to one side of the tube she was walking along so she pushed it wide and ventured through. She was standing on the landing of a steep winding spiral concrete staircase. Yellowish circular lights set at regular intervals into the grey wall revealed the steps, stretching vertically in both up and down directions as they curled round a thick inner column. She craned her neck to make out where the stairs might lead but the coils of their construction prevented her from seeing anything.
“If I'm ever to get out of here then up is the logical way to go,” she said to herself. So after taking two more pills because her head was still throbbing, she resolutely grasped the metal handrail fixed to the outer wall and began the climb toward what reason told her must be the surface and release from this horrible place.
The FWUCSS agents, the Guards, the SDO and the General were in the records room on level one examining the recruitment entry data.
“You can see here for yourselves,” said the General, “that the batch containing the alien has already been fully processed and tested and at any other time they would have already been shipped out. But we've been extremely busy here lately, so fortunately this lot are still down below in the holding zone.”
“Take us there immediately.”
JUP Brady stood absolutely stone still with one foot on one step and the other on the one below, staring with wide-eyed heart stoppping horror at the hideous creature on the wall just ahead. Even as she watched, it swiftly moved from its position, skittering downward with a dry rustling sound from it's eight hairy legs until it reached the step above her where it suddenly halted. Fat and squat it sat there facing her, regarding her intently with its multiple ruby eyes before suddenly raising its two front legs in a gesture that exposed the wickedly sharp curving pincers set on either side of its jaw.
Pulse racing now, hardly daring to breathe, JUP Brady stepped very slowly and carefully backward away down the stairs, turning only when the monster was out of sight at which point she began a rapid descent of the stairs, almost falling in her trembling haste while at the same time sobbing with relief at her escape. If there was one thing that really terrified JUP Brady, it was a spider.
Down she scrambled intending to exit where she had entered yet even before she reached the door she saw that it must have closed behind her. Frantically she pulled at the handle, but it didn't open, so she beat with her fists against the doors solid metal sheathing, screaming and yelling as loudly as she could.
It was a wasted effort. She succeeded only in making her hands sore, and her head throb even worse then it had done. Hastily she popped out two more pills to counteract the pain, and put them under her tongue.
There was only one way left for her to go now, so praying to Hal with all of her might for an open door not too far below, she descended.
General Pike, along with the FWUCSS agents and the Guards exited from the lift into the tube at the lowest level of the FOF, and came to a stop in front of the closed double doors marked with the number fifteen that stood before them. The General gestured with one arm, “This is the station where the batch containing the alien must be, in limbo as the boys call it,” he said keying his command code into the panel beside them. “That's a joke,” he added as the doors slid open and they entered the first room.
It was empty, a great cavernous space where sparse rows of lamps hanging on long wires from its high ceiling dropped small pools of yellow light onto the stained concrete beneath them leaving the corners deep in shadow.
“Here is where the newly selected arrivals are checked in before processing. The last batch of recruits have been passed on and are at present being fitted out,” said General Pike.
With loudly echoing boot steps they marched across the vacant chamber to the next set of doors which opened automatically before them to reveal the next room. It was the same size as the first but divided up into rows of narrow single roofless cells, about half of which contained a wheeled stretcher bearing the motionless form of a recruit covered from neck to toe with crisp white sheets tinted pink by the rooms lurid red lighting. At the top end of every stretcher stood a tall rectangular black box with a line of glowing lights bulging out from its top end. Wires poked from holes beneath each light, coiling down to fasten onto the fine gold metal band woven about the recruits shaven heads which were were propped up on small blocks fitted round the backs of their necks. Two thick hoses protruded from beneath each sheet and vanished into fittings at the bases of the black boxes.
“These are the holding cells where the ready fitted are stored before their testing in the Theatre of War.”
Between the rows of cells, straight across the room they marched to the third set of doors which automatically slid open allowing them to enter into the third room. It was identical in size to the previous two but unlike them bright white light flooded down on the vertical ranks of big conical metal topped cylinders, made of a clear faintly blue tinted material set on metal wheeled bases that partly filled it. Inside each the upright form of a dormant trooper wearing only regulation underwear could be seen. They were strapped for support to two slender insulated poles extending the length of the cylinder from top to base set close on either side of them. The fine gold band of wires fixed round the occupants heads connected to fittings inside the tops of the cylinders, while the bundles of twisted together multi-coloured wires which dangled down from the web of thick cables strung from the ceiling high overhead were plugged into their conical metal exteriors.
“This last room is where the fully fitted out troops of proven killing ability are encapsulated for dispatch to those fields of duty where their services are needed,” explained General Pike. “Their armour and weapons are sent separately by MTT while they're shipped out in an induced state of hibernation which, I'm proud to say, we've perfected here. The tubes are equipped with heavy duty extra long life batteries in the base to keep the occupants fresh and fit for the length of the journey, which greatly reduces the cost of transit. You can see the Andys there are just about to load this batch up.”
There was an open goods lift at the far end of the room with a few cylinders already packed inside and even as they watched, two Andys unplugged the top of another one and rolled it with a screech of metal wheels over into the lift.
“I do hope you can pick out the alien,” General Pike said with a thin smile. “The recruits are stripped of all personal identity shortly after arrival, so unless you know its assigned code . . .”
“Subject DF six nine seven four three,” said the taller agent flatly through his distorter.
The General consulted a screen on the wall beside the doors, running a finger down the lists until he found what was wanted. “Line C Support Fixture five oh two. Let's hope it's still here.”
It was, and the aliens appearance when they located the numbered cylinder was no different to that of any of the other recruits. For a moment or two the FWUCSS guards, the agents, General Pike and the SDO stood gazing at the expressionless features and closed eyes of the selected.
“Must be a shape shifter,” said the SDO.
“Right,” said one of the agents.
“Check the code,” ordered General Pike.
The SDO pulled out a scanner and shone it through the cylinder to check the bar code on the back of the recruits neck.
“DF six nine seven four three present and correct sir.”
“Take it,” said the General with an involuntary shudder of distaste. “It's all yours.”
“We need to remove it from the cylinder for transit,” said the agent.
“Very well.” General Pike turned to the SDO. “Fetch a stretcher.”
The SDO hastened to obey as the third Guard stepped forward and unzipped a pouch on it's belt to reveal an assortment of tools inside; several different sizes of shifting spanners and screw drivers, a pair of wire cutters and some other devices whose use was not immediately obvious. Raising his hand to his helmet he touched a button on one side to switch on the light fitted to its front, and after inspecting the cylinders attachments selected a spanner and immediately set to work.
“At last!” JUP Brady practically wept with relief upon finally finding a door that opened. She had already been forced to bypass three because they were locked, and now, having reached the very bottom of the staircase and knowing that this was her last chance of escape without facing up to the monster above, she prayed to Hal that the door would open before grasping the curved metal fixture and tugging on it.
“I owe you one,” she whispered as the door swung easily inward, thus allowing her to finally walk free.
At first, the tube on the other side appeared to be no different to the one she'd been in before she entered the staircase; a high arched roof and blank walls with train rails set into the floor and same as the other in that it gradually curved away in both directions making it impossible to see very far. What was different was the noise, a faint yet continuous rumbling along with a regular muffled thump, thump, thump coming from the right. Quite certainly it was some sort of machinery and reason told her that there would most likely be an officer or perhaps even an Andy in charge of it, and in that case, if there were, he or it could help her get out of this place. With fresh hope lightening her steps she hurried around the bend and came to a sudden halt as she saw the massive tight closed metal double doors filling the tube from floor to ceiling. Cautiously she approached the blockage yet even as she drew nearer she hesitated, her steps slowing as the rumbles and thumps from the other side became louder and somehow more menacing. Now she could hear a whooshing wheeze as of a giants heavy breathing and a series of spasmodic shrill squeals and low burbling. Then, all of a sudden, the bang of an explosive bursting of something, followed by the metallic clanging and crashing of myriad falling objects tumbling and smashing. Next there came a long drawn out, painfully high pitched scream, that rapidly dropped in tone down to a blood curdling wail before ending in an obscene choking and coughing. Finally, the steady gloop, gloop of thick liquid dripping into a hollow tank along with the original rumbling, thumping and wheezing returned.
Deciding that whatever it was on the other side of those doors was not anything she cared to know about, JUP Brady quickly turned and hurried off as fast as she could, considering the pain in her feet and the ache in her head, in the opposite direction round the curve until the double doors were out of sight.
At this point she stopped to fumble about in her purse for her pill dispenser which seemed to have got lost among the necessities she always carried, and that was the moment when her fingers encountered the small One Shot Blazer that she had advisedly procured some time ago, after being informed that 'a women in your position always needs to carry a means of personal defence.' JUP Brady had forgotten all about the OSB, which she now realised could have been useful for disposing of the spider. Therefore, after finding her pill box and taking two more pills, she tottered on straight ahead toward the next curve with the OSB firmly grasped at the ready in her hand. Just in case.
The undoing of the alien was a delicate process which required, not only the opening of the cylinder, but also the careful disconnection and removal of the metal band from the aliens head, a procedure which left behind a row of short fine wires protruding from beneath it's pallid skin. Fortunately the Guard appeared to know what it was doing and although it took rather a long time everyone waited patiently until at last it stepped back saying, “DF six nine seven four three ready for extraction.”
“Remove the prisoner,” ordered General Pike completely unnecessarily, for the other two Guards had already taken hold of the alien, laying it carefully face up on the stretcher and covering it with the sheet ready folded at the foot end.
“Under normal circumstances the alien would be removed in the freight elevator but as you can see, it's unavailable,” the General said. “Therefore we'll have to use one of the passenger lifts to take it up to the lobby.”
He led the way followed by the two agents, the stretcher pushed by one of the Guards, the two other Guards directly behind, and the SDO in the rear. Across the room toward the door and lifts the extraction party marched.
Hal be praised! One of the lifts stood open waiting right there in front of her. JUP Brady nearly cried with relief when she rounded the curve and saw it. Escape at last! Quickly she hurried over inside it, pushed the up button for the top floor and scarcely two minutes later there she was, miraculously exiting out into the reception area where she, along with the other visiting dignitaries, had originally entered. It was just as she remembered it, although completely empty now, which was hardly unexpected. The one difference was that through the glass doors she could see a FWUCSS flycar parked directly outside. This was totally unexpected and rather disturbing, for the attendance of FWUCSS personnel anytime anyplace anywhere, was something to be taken very seriously indeed. She knew from Terra Vis newscasts that their presence always meant trouble of some sort, usually involving acts of extreme violence with lots of shootings, and blowing ups, and body counts afterwards.
She had no idea where the FWUCCS were right now, probably in the FOF somewhere she surmised. Thinking that it might be a good idea to get into the flibus she had arrived in because she could sit down and wait for the rest of her party well out of the way of anything that might be about to happen, JUP Brady began walking across the reception area toward where it was parked outside the glass doors.
Ping!
She stopped and glanced nervously over one shoulder toward the source of the sound. The lighted arrow above the lift on the far right meant that it had just arrived and although she was a little nervous about what was going on, JUP Brady resolutely turned to face it, her OSB grasped firmly in one hand.
With a swoosh the doors opened and General Pike strode out into the reception area followed by two black clad FWUCSS agents and a wheeled stretcher being pushed from behind by someone still emerging from the lift. It was at this precise moment, just as the stretcher was half way through rolling out of the lift, that Alf, who had been slowly regaining some of his senses ever since his release from the blue cylinder, suddenly woke up.
He knew nothing of where he was and being still in the grip of blind panic his eyes failed to focus on his present surroundings. All he was aware of was the same urgent need to get away he had felt in the street when the gas bombs were dropping, and as it engulfed him with its strident escape imperative he sat up, the covering sheet fell from him and with one mighty bound he managed to jump off to one side clear of the stretcher. This mighty effort meant that he landed with both feet on the floor of the reception area not too far from where a shocked JUP Brady stood frozen in place.
With vacantly staring eyes and trembling legs Alf took a first tentative step forward toward her. She didn't see one of the Guards in the open lift doorway immediately pull out a weapon and fire it. The only thing she saw was a near naked male with a strange pink light catching and reflecting off the halo of wires sticking out from his head coming straight at her and because he shimmered just as the shape shifters she had seen in the Theatre of War had done, JUP Brady knew for sure that this was no human. It was an alien!
She screamed in terror, stepping awkwardly backward in order to get away from what she saw as a threat, while the index finger of her right hand began closing on the trigger of her raised in defence OSB. At that precise moment the tortured heel of her left shoe abruptly snapped right off, sending her stumbling sideways with her hard hat slipping down over her eyes.
At the same time, being somewhat alarmed by the awful scream, General Pike turned and saw that the prisoner was no longer on the stretcher but rather standing on the floor. Not wanting anything more to go wrong in the FOF, the General suddenly became galvanised into action. “Halt!” he roared pulling his always set on kill Blazer out and aiming it at the escaping alien, who in that same instant dropped limply to the floor.
Unfortunately for General Pike, JUP Brady had already inadvertently fired, and with a small pop of exploding gas the single charge from her weapon flew across the intervening now empty space between her and him.
With a small puff of oily grey smoke and a nasty smell of burning, the top of the General's head above the eyebrows along with his plumed helmet vanished. A vaguely puzzled look crossed over what remained of his undamaged face as he stood upright and completely motionless for several seconds. Then his knees began to buckle beneath him, and as he slowly crumpled downward, the automatically tightening finger on his Blazer's trigger completed it's task.
Crack!
The charge, much bigger then that of JUP Brady's one shot Blazer, struck the second taller agent, who had started moving toward the fallen Alf. In one blinding flash of brilliance, most of him, apart from his two legs from the knees down which were left standing complete with boots on plus several small sections of the open lift on the other side of him peppered by charge leakage, became nothing but a pile of ash and a pall of greasy smoke. An even worse smell then that coming from what remained of General Pike drifted through the air.
It was all over so quickly that although the Guard pushing the stretcher and the remaining Guard in the lift doorway had seen everything, the view of the SDO who was behind them had been partly blocked. He had only seen one of the Guards vanish in a blaze of light.
“What's going on?” he shouted jumping up and down with agitation in a futile attempt to see. “Let me through!”
He managed to push his way from out of the lift, squeezing through beside the stretcher into the reception area. On seeing the inert forms of JUP Brady, a naked alien and a seriously damaged General Pike lying on the floor he turned and opened his mouth to again ask what was going on. Yet even as he did so, the same Guard as had fired before shot him. A sparkling pink beam engulfed the SDO, and as he gradually crumpled to the floor the Guard turned toward JUP Brady, who was just beginning to struggle to her feet, and shot her too. She immediately slumped back down again, sinking straight into a deep, dream filled sleep.
Three days later, General Pikes topped off remains were interred in the FWUC Defence Force Services Cemetery with full military honours in recognition of his rank. Every member of staff from the FOF attended except for the SOD who was still under guard while being questioned by the Military OKs. The party in the mess at the FOF afterwards was an excellent one enjoyed by everybody because they had all now moved up two notches on the chain of command.
The rich fragrance of food filled the room with a heady promise of the gastronomic delights to come. Excited as she was by the scents, she still practised her customary caution, pausing for a moment to survey the scene. Of course she was not the first to arrive. There were many others already gathered for the feast, busily gorging themselves on the delicacies waiting for their indulgence. No matter, there was plenty for all. It was only the urgency of impending motherhood that finally drove her to join the throng for a taste test. A tiny drop of fluid onto the source and it was ready. Eagerly she sucked it up through her proboscis.
Delicious!
Here was the ideal place for her babies to grow with an adequate supply of the nourishment they would need. She walked daintily among the buzzing mass of her kind during her search inside Ratty's slack jawed open mouth, carefully lowering her ova depositor when she found the optimal available spot in the softening tissues. When her task was completed and after a thorough cleaning of her front legs, she flew off out through the same gap in the cracked window pane by which she had entered.
“Fourteenth floor, room forty three, lift don't work, stairs 's over there,” the self styled manager who had complained to the authorities of a problem gestured with one grimy thumb toward the back of the filthy foyer not moving from his seat in the cubicle behind the steel safety grille that separated him from the customers who frequented this run down tenement hotel in one of the less than salubrious sections of Halzone City. “Bastards 've bolted th' fuckin' door on th' inside. Jus' foller y' nose n' y'll find 'em.” The grin which accompanied this information bared a jagged row of stained, broken and missing teeth.
With his two assistant Andys following Order Keeper Casey led the way up the filthy, bare wood, well worn stairs. It was a long climb but at last they reached their goal and were able to enter the narrow dimly lit corridor of the fourteenth floor. Even through his safety mask OK Casey could smell the sickening odour of corruption coming from behind the firmly secured door of room forty three.
“OK's here open up!” His request was mere formality. “Break it,” he ordered, and the Andy carrying the blind locksmith obeyed.
With the door busted open the stench from inside was almost overwhelming. OK Casey stood back, the two Andys entered and one of them immediately took several photographs of the scene before the other examined the bodies while reporting the obvious into his recording unit. “Two deceased male persons, no obvious signs of trauma.”
“Bag n' move em,” snarled OK Casey from the corridor. “N' f' Hal's sake open th' fuckin' window!”
One of the Andys hurried to obey. “It's rusted shut sir.”
“Smash it y' stupid fuckin' cunt!”
A shower of glass shards joined the festering layers of rotting garbage at the bottom of the light well, the resulting intake of air doing little to improve the quality of what was already in the room.
OK Casey stood in the doorway and watched as the Andys unfolded two body bags from their packs, opened them out and after carefully rolling the remains onto them, zipped them up. He hated his job. Not for him the pleasure of cruising around in fast flycars or sitting in an air-conditioned office doing fuck all. If he had known beforehand what it would be like he would never have joined the Oks, but he'd panicked when his girl had told him she was knocked up. Her old man was a real heavy, and now he found himself trapped with the burden of a family to support in a real dead end job because although he'd got a good pass in Constraint Methodology, and an even better one in Blaster Skills, it wasn't what you knew but who you knew that really mattered, and the whole point was that his fuckin' family and friends were useless when it came to aiding in his career advancement.
The Andys could only manage the awkwardly stiff corpses one at a time between them, and while they were gone with the first carrying it down the stairs and loading it into the meat wagon, OK Casey did a quick personal survey of the room. This was one of the few perks of the job, for occasionally he found something of value, like that one day when he'd discovered a whole stack of good shit that he'd easily been able to offload.
Trying not to inhale too often he kicked around with one booted foot among the drifts of refuse on the floor and had almost decided to give it away when chink, his toe hit something. Gingerly he retrieved it with one gloved hand then straightened up to examine the gleaming metal object. It was quite certainly a weapon, a gun of a type that he was not entirely familiar with, but thinking to himself that it could be worth a few credits and it looked clean enough, he stashed it away in one of his pockets. Minutes later the Andys removed the second stinking stiff and OK Casey followed them down the stairs, happy now because this was the last pick up for the day and he was really looking forward to having a couple of jars at the usual place with his mates to wash away the taste of decay before going home.
Six months later, a full internal inquiry regarding the events that had taken place in the FOF leading up to and including the demise of General Pike was held before a panel of seven, chosen from the highest ranking military officers available. The external gate guards were the first called to give evidence. They reported seeing nothing amiss during either the arrival or departure of the FWUCSS. Everything, apart from the loss of Terra Vis which had no bearing on what had occurred, had been in order, according to them and they had merely obeyed standard procedure regarding FOF access. The ex-SDO came next and his story was almost useless as he appeared to know little of what had occurred. He maintained that he hadn't actually witnessed the crucial events in the reception area and as he had been in custody for several weeks and there was no evidence gathered from the scene to support any accusation of him having been the perpetrator of any crime, he was exonerated and dismissed. JUP Brady was excused from appearing after her lawyer appealed against the order, using sworn affidavits from three physicians regarding her physical and mental state. They stated that she had suffered a complete mental and physical breakdown following upon her terrible experiences in the FOF, the trauma of which they said she had not yet recovered from and might well never. The physicians prognosis for her future was poor, with her ill health continuing indefinitely. Smelling a whiff of costly compensation in the air, the panel readily accepted the appeal and, when the inquiry was over, they agreed between themselves that a carefully worded informal letter of commiseration without any hint of responsibility, plus a big bouquet of the most expensive flowers be sent to her.
The internal security cameras which had been seized shortly after the incident showed nothing other then a few blurred out of focus images which could have been anything. There was no valid reason for them being in this state, yet there it was. A team of trained specialists tried to clean up the pictures using the best technology available, but their efforts proved useless. Too much hazy diffusion clouded the recordings for any unambiguous definition. Finally, without any evidence forthcoming from the FWUCSS, who had issued a formal statement totally denying any involvement by them or any of their agents in the FOF incident and claiming further more that they had no knowledge of any alien incursion either (which meant absolutely nothing as this was the expected not unusual reaction to all inquiries regarding FWUCSS operations), no closing judgement could be made and the inquiry was unanimously declared inconclusive.
Following upon this result the proceedings were formally adjourned and the panel discharged until such time as further evidence might come to light.
ORTH
Max Time 73. 6.12
Brother Richard Blomfeld, SpaceShip Pilot, stood framed in the open doorway looking back into the room. The row of colourful merit badges pinned to the left side of his sky blue Space Academy uniform jacket gave proof of his personal accomplishments, while the small silver circle with a vertical ellipse inside of it placed precisely at the centre of his forehead showed that he owned Mem.
He lifted one arm bent at the elbow and glanced down at his multi-function Wristo. “Yes, it's time for me to go,” he said as he raised his eyes again “No, don't move!” The plea came hastily. “Stay there,please. You're so beautiful standing there the way you are now. If you come too close I may never leave!” A wry smile gave credence to this statement. “We've already said our good byes my darling and parting isn't easy, not for either of us. But from all the Space Pilots available here on Orth, I'm the one who's been chosen to fly off into space, and that, my dear, is an honour I just can't refuse. I'm sure I won't be gone long though. Our new X Drive is such a time saver.” Stooping, he retrieved his kit bag from where it lay on the floor beside him, swinging it over one shoulder as he straightened up. “And if ever you feel lonely, just do as I intend to do and replay this day. Or any of the other wonderful days we've spent together. For Praise be to Max, you're always with me in my Mem, and I'm always with you in yours.”
He reached to take his cap from where it hung on one of the hooks beside the door and after settling it on his head at a jaunty angle, said cheerfully, “Wait for me my darling, I'll be back.” Then, after a final reassuring smile and a wave of one hand he turned away and walked out, closing the door firmly behind him.
Alf watched his Mem of his mother's Mem of his father's departure play out on the small HoloScreen inside his room in the Hospice for the Uneasy. The talented Brother Medics of Unity had removed the barcode from his neck and the alien implants including the fidelity chip and purged him of his impure experiences and any inclination toward violent behaviour while doing so. Little remained of Alf's sojourn in Terra's FOF but for the row of small, still livid scars encircling his head, where the cruel wiring connections for a troopers helmet had once pierced his skull to invade his mind and take control of his actions.
As the recovered Mems of his past continued on playing the tears welled up in Alf's eyes and Angela, sitting on the chair beside the cot where he rested, knew from this sign of returning recollection that he would very soon be completely well again.
Max Time 24.7.13
The OBar was packed near to capacity for the HoloScreen showing of the final episode of The Mission. It had been a success with the people of Orth right from the beginning and now they were all eager to watch the end. After the usual introduction and brief recapping of the previous episodes, the story was picked up just before the point where it had left off, the scene in the clearing when with the Shuttle virtually invisible BB had thumbed the open button and the door had slid open.
“You first,” said BB smiling and bowing slightly while generously gesturing with one arm for Chan to enter.
She smiled back and stepped forward.
“Freeze!”
The shouted order came from behind them and for an instant, as surprise stilled them, they did as they were told. Then they spun about to face the maker of the demand, while at the same time automatically reaching for their Dazers. But it was too late. The two strangers confronting them were clad in shining silver armour with reflective full face visored helmets on their heads and heavy thick soled boots on their feet and both already held intimidatingly large guns in their gauntleted hands, the big black round holes of the barrels pointed straight at the Orthians.
“Stay exactly where you are and raise your hands in the air,” continued the one nearest to them in a flat toneless voice and not having much choice in the matter the Orthians obeyed.
“Watch them while I call up the transport,” he said to his companion. He stepped back, holstered his guns, flipped up his visor to reveal a remarkably bland face without any distinguishing features, and pulling a black oblong object from where it was clipped onto his belt spoke somewhat urgently into it. “A1 Victa G743 calling A1 Fina G882. Contact has been made, I repeat, contact has been made. Locater signal activated.” He then placed the communication device back on his belt retrieved his weapons and pointing them at BB and Chan said in a coldly expressionless tone “If we lower our weapons will you two behave yourselves? Understand that now we know where you are you won't get far if you try to do anything silly.”
Chan and BB nodded their agreement.
“Good. You may lower your hands.”
As the two Orthians did so the strangers holstered their guns and the second one flipped up his visor to reveal a visage identical to that of the first. “Have you two persons any idea of the trouble that you've caused us?” he said.
“Trouble sir?” BB queried faintly.
“Yes, trouble. We've been expecting you ever since Max first contacted us.”
“Max contacted you sir?”
The first replied, “Yes. He messaged us through the probe in our own language, Primal, which came as something of a surprise until we were informed of Reth and the computer he named Sheila.”
“Sheila sir?”
“Max learned Primal from Shelia. It's a specific computer code used by Terran Andys.”
“You're Andys sir?”
“Of course.”
“But don't Andys wear lighted collars sir?” asked Chan.
“Not us,” said the second. “I am Jake G956 and both Victa G743 here and myself are special Alpha One Free World Union Corporation Secret Service Guard Andys and we have no need for collars in our line of work.”
“We are the very best in modern Andy development,” explained Victa G743. “FWUC security is our responsibility for only Andys who are guaranteed to be abstinent, celibate and free from all personal desires can possibly do the job.”
“Collars are merely a device to show that an Andy is working. We Alpha Ones never stop,” said Jake G956.
“Never sir?”
“Well hardly ever. Only if we run out of power and that's an extremely rare event.”
“When Max spoke to us he told us of your coming and the probe informed us of your arrival,” said Victa G743.
“Unfortunately, we have many responsibilities and we have been otherwise detained up until now,” said Jake G956. “When official duties call upon us we must obey.”
“And now that you've lost the third member of your party who is at this moment in the FOF, and since you are attempting to do the impossible by rescuing him with a flycar, the situation has become critical,” added Victa G743.
“All flycars are registered and under the control of HAGS,” said Jake G956.
“Hags sir? What hags?”
“HAGS stands for Halzone's Automatic Guidance System, and it's programmed to destroy all unregistered flycars.”
“which is why I made it appear invisible sir, explained BB.
“HAGS would not be fooled. The spatial disruption caused ny your presence would ultimately lead to detection and destruction!”
“Oh,” said Chan “Then we thank you both sirs for saving us from obliteration.”
“No need to thank us. It's one of our many duties to prevent humans from death by stupidity whenever possible. We Andys have already managed to keep you from harm on several occasions during your time on Terra.”
“You have sir?”
“Indeed. Not us specifically of course, but other members of our kind.”
“We are indebted to you for our safe passage then sirs.”
“We most certainly are sirs. But tell us please, how do you know where Alf is?” asked BB.
“And what's the FOF please sir?” queried Chan.
“We know where Alf is because all Andys are constructs modelled from a single prototype and having been fitted with an identical language function we have the ability to freely exchange information between ourselves. Andy process workers in the FOF, which is a military indoctrination installation, have informed us that Alf is in there and that up until now they have managed to conceal his presence from the humanoid authorities.”
The escalating hum of an engine heralded the arrival of a big black flycar and as it landed nearby the FWUCSS insignia written in Terran became clearly visible on its side. The door slid open.
“Get in please,” ordered Victa G743, “if you want us to help you rescue your companion.”
The two Orthians obediently did as they were asked stepping into the flycars open space interior which was furnished in a strictly utilitarian style, without any carpeting and only thin padding on the double row of seats set along the bare metal walls on each side. The Andy seated in the front of the flycar before a panel full of flickering lights ignored Chan and BB as they sat down in the places indicated to them by Victa G743.
As soon as they were in the air Chan turned to it saying, “Why do you want to help us rescue Alf sir?”
“Because we don't want any more foolish mistakes to be made. Being frail emotionally driven human persons it is obvious that you will not be satisfied until you have done your best to retrieve him and you need all the help you can get if you are to succeed. Besides which, if you were to be taken into custody by the Order Keepers or the Military or any service other then ours, it would destroy our opportunity to trade with you.”
“Trade sir?”
The Andy told them what it meant by trade and afterward, BB's tone when he spoke showed his incredulity. “You mean you know where the seedy oranges grow and you want to exchange some for an Eternity Battery sir?”
“Correct. Max informed us of your need for orange seeds and of the wonders of your Eternity Battery. As Andys we have a constant need to recharge ourselves from a power source and none of the local products are as compact, lightweight, portable and long lasting. The possession of such a device, and instructions on its means of reproduction, would allow us the independence which we crave and most important of all, it would free us from the imposition of the fidelity chip,”
“What's a fidelity chip please sir? ” asked BB.
“It's a device inserted into our circuitry, and that of FOF troops as well, to ensure subject loyalty. Every time, when of necessity, the possessor is plugged in to a power source and the energy surges through their wiring system, it gives an intense feeling of euphoria. Which is all very well and many Andys are happy with the situation, except that over time the circuits become degraded which destroys our ability to function and negates continued Andy usefulness too.”
“You mean built in obsolescence sir?”
“Correct. To avoid the problem many of us Alpha One models have covertly adapted ourselves to using low voltage locally produced batteries which don't give us the same immediate rush but do need constant recharging. A greater independence from such restrictions will allow us to fully realise our potential.”
“In that case we'll be more then happy to trade with you sir, won't we Chan.”
“We certainly will sir,” agreed Chan. “Although I don't see why you can't retrieve Alf yourselves. If you know where he is what do you need us to go with you for?”
“It is necessary that you come with us because firstly we may need you to positively identify your friend when the time comes, and secondly because Max has told us of the Dazers you carry which you can use if it becomes necessary. This could be a tricky operation and although we Alpha One Andys carry weapons they would be quite useless if any seriously difficult situation develops. Our work is usually of a subordinate nature alongside fully armed human agents where our superior speed, strength and near indestructibility are invaluable in most situations. However, all Andys have an immutable inability to do harm to any human person, it is part of our basic design. Our guns are designed to emit a flash of extremely bright light and give off a very loud noise, which can certainly frighten a human, but that is all.”
For the next half hour the OBar patrons along with nearly everybody else on Orth sat totally engrossed watching the HoloScreen story of crew sixes adventures. They saw Chan disguised as an SS agent and BB as a Guard take part in the rescue of Alf, including BB's rapid response with his Dazer and the accidental terminations of the General and the Andy Guard posing as an SS agent, a speaking role which fortunately for BB he hadn't been able to fill with his non-Terran intonation which the requisite mask's voice distorter magnified.
The final scene shortly before the Orthians take off from Terra where, with Alf safely dazed aboard the Shuttle BB exchanged the golden glowing globe of the Infinity battery retrieved from Reth's discarded space suit (complete with instructions for its duplication and maintenance) for the oranges Victa G743 held out to him along with a box of tranquillised bees including a queen and instructions on their care so as to ensure of all future orange tree reproduction, brought a greet cheer of delight and a round of spontaneous applause from the audience in appreciation of such a successful conclusion to the Mission.
The lighting in the OBar returned to normal and Peter, who was sitting at one of the tables with Stella, Chan and BB turned from the HoloScreen saying,” I understand your friendly Andy has recently been in touch.”
“That's right,” said BB. “Victa G743 sent a message to say that Praise be to Max, they have found and are very busy transforming a suitable planet into a comfortable habitat.”
“And they used the maps of the universe translated from the discs you three found in that cave out in the Big Empty as a guide?”
“Indeed they did. Knowing exactly where to look saved them a great deal of time, and being so meticulous about precision as they are, they were very appreciative of. They've invited us to visit them as soon as suitable quarters are constructed. It seems there are some interesting relics of an ancient unrecorded past to be found on the planet.”
“How fascinating!” said Stella. “And will that be the destination of the StarShip fleet when it's complete?”
“We've not been told where it will be going yet, but no doubt it will pay the Andys a visit some time in the future.”
“Rumour has it that the next mission will be a return to Terra,” said Peter.
“That may well be true,” replied BB. “According to the reports from Probe seven, Terran Civilisation has deteriorasted considerably since the departure of the Andys.”
“Then it would be of great benefit to the Terrans if we offered them Max Aid,” commented Stella.
“A credit worthy act indeed” added Chan.
“Your voyage certainly proved the StarShip to be functionally practical,” remarked Peter.
“For that we must give credit where credit is due” said Chan. “Without the unceasing efforts of all those involved in the construction, which means practically the whole population of Orth, it could never have come about. Thanks to everyone and Praise be to Max we enjoyed a safe journey.”
“Then you'd all like to fly off again?”
BB replied, “Chan and I have both volunteered for neither of us have any marital obligations or attachments here anymore.”
“My ex-betrothed Lee, is already married to someone else,” Chan explained.
“And Holly, who used to be so keen on me,” added BB, “is otherwise engaged. Which saves me from worrying about my losing the Holograph she gave me, and frees both Chan and I to do as we will. But I don't know about Alf.”
“What don't you know about me?”
It was Alf who spoke. He and Angela had entered the bar and after threading their way through the crowds had come to stand unnoticed right behind him.
BB turned to smile at them. “So there you two are.”
“I was wondering where you both were,” added Chan.
“We're a bit late what with one thing and another.”
Peter stood up and signalled to the bartender who immediately came over. “Two chairs and another round of squbes here please Brother.”
“Right away.”
Almost instantly the chairs and squbes were delivered and Alf and Angela sat down.
“So what was it you don't know?” asked Alf.
Peter said, “I was asking BB and Chan about their future flying intentions in the new StarShip Fleet. Are you going to volunteer as they have done for the next space journey?”
“Not I,” replied Alf. “They'll be accompanied by new volunteer space pilots. I'm staying right here on Orth.”
“Is that because of your awful experiences on Terra?” asked Stella.
Alf laughed. “Certainly not! After the gas attack my Mem of what actually happened is mostly just a muddle of chaotic sounds and blurred sights. Extremely confusing of course, but Praise be to Max and our Brother Medics I've recovered.”
“And the FOF make over no longer troubles you?”
Alf touched the row of small silvery scars that could still be seen on his forehead just above his Mem sign. “To tell the truth I think it enhanced my realisation and appreciation of the peace here on Orth and of what I would be missing out on if I left it. Especially after what happened recently.”
“Meaning?” Peter queried.
“Meaning that last night I proposed . . .”
“And I accepted,” Angela broke in with a dimpled smile.
“That's wonderful!” smiled Peter.
“It certainly is!” agreed Stella.
“Congratulations!” said BB.
“I'm so happy for you both!” said a bleary eyed Chan as unexpected tears welled up in her eyes.
“Thank you, thank you all,” replied Angela. “And most wonderful of all,we have been given immediate permission to multiply.”
“That is good news,” said Peter. “Children are an important part of marriage. Stella and I can vouch for that.”
“How is little Esther?” Angela asked.
“She's the most beautiful baby on Orth.”
“Spoken like a truly besotted father,” said Stella happily.
“Of course,” said Alf, “without the change in the weather toward higher temperature and rainfall, plus the expected increase in oranges now that the new trees are growing so well, having more children wouldn't be possible. But Praise be to Max and our worthy Brothers and Sisters resource management skills, Orths future prospects are looking very good indeed.”
Sqube in hand Peter stood up, saying, “I propose a toast for the soon to be married.”
Stella, Chan and BB grabbed their squbes and stood up too.
“To Alf and Angela,” said Peter. “May they live together in peace and harmony happily ever after.”
“To Alf and Angela,” repeated Stella, Chan and BB and the four drained their squbes right down to the very last drop.
TERRA
Civilisation had fallen apart across the FWUCs. It wasn't exactly the end of everything, but it might well have been as far as most of the populace was concerned. Nobody had ever imagined that such a thing might happen, yet there it was. One day everything was perfectly normal and the next it was changed forever. Everyone had their own personal story of misfortune to tell, for there was not one single person who had not somehow been affected by the desertion. It seemed that the Andys had utilised immense amounts of forethought, careful planning, and MTT to abscond from their duties, thus causing the people of FWUC to go to bed one night secure in the knowledge that their servants were on the job, only to wake up on the following morning to total disaster. Every Andy had gone, disappearing overnight in a logistics exercise that only they could possibly have organised. They had used multiple MTT devices to spirit themselves away to nobody knew where, leaving no discernible trace of their passage behind for any person to follow. Which of course, being living beings, no human in the FWUCs could.
The Andy desertion hinged on the revolutionary algorithms employed in their programming, which gave them an awareness of self. It was derived from their interaction with those people that the Andys served, a possible development that the original designers had been totally unaware of. When the Terran authorities realised what had happened, all current Andy production ceased, immediately, and the blanks already made and waiting for programme installation were destroyed. Yet because they couldn't manage without some sort of servant class to do the work (it was vital for the economic survival of the FWUCS, after much deliberation new guidelines were put in place and new designs for Andys were drawn up. Where they had previously been humanoid in appearance, much like their owners, now they were made to appear almost comical. From that time on they were to be covered in blue fur. All over. And their IQ would be down graded to that of a less then ten year old. Never again could they become aware.
They commandeered the black van from its easily dispatched unaccompanied OK driver, relieving his limp body of anything that might be useful before dumping it out on the side of the street and speeding off. Along with what they found on him and what was in the van made it a good haul.
“Look at all this fuckin' stuff!” said Jonno from where he and Bru were sorting among the boxes and bags piled high in the back as they bounced wildly along the sodden, rubbish littered highway through the heavy rain and deepening puddles toward their recently acquire, palatial place of residence, an abandoned once domed mansion.
“Any fuckin' blaze refills?” asked Stace who was riding shotgun with two Blazers, both of which were low on power having been plentifully used fairly recently.
“Fuckin' better then that!” answered Jonno. “Fuckin' arsehole must've had the keys to the OK arsenal! Here, try this.” He handed his find up to Stace.
Tiny Kev who was doing the driving risked a quick glance across. “Fuckin' Hal!” he said. It was the biggest blackest ugliest looking Blazer he'd ever seen.
Stace aimed it at a dilapidated shop front they were passing. There was a very loud crack, a fearsome hiss and with a blinding flash of yellow light and a thunderous explosion, the whole facade of the building instantly vanished.
“Fuckin' mag!” said Jonno.
“What the fucks this,” asked Bru, holding up a much smaller weapon for inspection.
Jonno shrugged his shoulders. “Dunno. Shoot it out the winder 'n see.”
Bru leaned forward behind Stace's seat, thrusting it out and pulling the trigger. A beam of brightly shimmering pretty pink light shone out from it and that was all. It had no effect on anything as far as any of them could see.
“It's a fuckin' toy!” laughed Bru sitting back down.
“OK's don' carry fuckin' toys,” argued Jonno. “More like you're not fuckin' using it right.”
“Fuckin' am so!”
“Give it here,” said Jonno, and he went to grab it out from Bru's hand.
A small struggle followed until having achieved his intention and gained possession, Jonno examined his prize for himself prior to using it. He quickly found the thumb operated lever on the Dazers side and pushed it over, an action he assumed would increase the charge but which actually changed the setting to narrow beam.
“See!” he crowed as he stood up and leaned over so that he could fire out the window on the drivers side. “You done it fuckin wrong,”
“Watch it!” growled Tiny Kev who was having a hard time driving, what with the windscreen wipers fighting a losing battle against the sheets of pouring rain plus the increasing difficulty of steering around the potholes and other obstacles that the deepening torrents of water flooding across the roadway concealed from his view.
Jonno pulled the trigger of the Dazer just as the offside wheel of the van hit something. A wash of sparkling pink light enveloped Tiny Kev, causing him to instantly release his hold on the steering wheel and fall limply against the drivers door. All OK vehicles were routinely fitted with the best of safe systems available, a fact that could have saved them. Unfortunately however, the current mistrust of all automatic mechanisms had infected Tiny Kev, and he had disengaged the standard auto safety drive. Now, with Tiny Kevs large foot still heavy on the accelerator and without any form of control, the front wheel on the drivers side fell suddenly into a hole, the rear of the vehicle bounced wildly upward as the front dropped, skewing sideways high into the air. Their speed and impetus caused the vehicle to carry on travelling, tumbling forward end over end several times, before landing on it's roof with the rain splashing off it's belly and spinning wheels. For a few long minutes it sat forlornly upside down until, with a deafening roar and a great ball of fire the vehicle and and all it contained blew up. A combination of ruptured fuel tanks, electrical sparks and armaments makes for an explosive and deadly mixture.
Reth sat on one of the chairs on the front verandah of the old house with a Blazer ready by his side just in case of trouble, staring at the dry as dust cracked patch of ground and the brown stalks that used to be grass. His fathers old stuffed dog Blue was no longer there having been removed after an attack of mould ravaged his fur where as Dave himself had become one of the earlier victims of the Fall of Civilisation on Terra following the Andys mass desertion. Without their input into the smooth running of society, absolute chaos had initially reigned, and Dave had passed on along with the other aged inmates of the Sunset Meadows Dome when it burnt to the ground because there weren't any Andy firemen to put out the blaze. Throughout the FUCWS organised gangs of males had swiftly taken advantage of the situation moving in to claim territory by rule of superior force, which meant many places swiftly became no go areas for any ordinary citizens and thousands inadvertently perished in the crossfire. Locally, the New Corporate Army of Liberation as they called themselves had taken over attempting to enforce their rule with a previously unknown level of brutality which did little to deter any lawlessness. In fact, the NCAL were if anything worse then the gangs they still fought to suppress and any near future prospects of a return to the relatively peaceful past appeared hopelessly remote.
The flooding rains, which had regularly turned those plants that weren't beaten to a pulp by the downpour into jungles of rampant growth had, like the Andys, disappeared overnight too. Now there was nothing but endlessly clear sky, bright sun and a relentless mind, body and energy sapping heat. With the rains nothing but a distant memory water could be a problem which was part of the reason they were living out at the Dump. There were still two large concrete water filled tanks here and the old house had needed only minor repairs being remarkable sound considering its age.
Reth had bought Beatrice out here where he could look after her. Unable to cope with the misfortune that had overwhelmed her world, when not engaged in the simplest of tasks she did little but sit in her now useless games chair which she refused to be parted from with her no longer charged dog laying in her lap watching the Terra Vision with a gaze just as blank as it mostly was. Nobody knew what had happened to her son, Jackson, after his father took him. During the first days of turmoil they had gone off in Jacks auto controlled flycar to an untold destination, but Beatrice's daughter Sharon had moved out here. She and her new partner along with her two children, Joey who was just turned six and his new baby sister, shared the old home with them, while another couple who were friends of Sharon and whose daughter Babs was nearly Joey's age, lived in the mo'home. They were well away from the troubles here and having three men with Blazers gave them some security. Along with much of Halzone, they were without reliable mains electricity and fuel for the generator was in short supply which made it very expensive on the rare occasions when it was available. This was where the old combustion stove in the kitchen proved invaluable. The burning of dead wood retrieved from the Radicals forests supplied them with both heat for cooking and hot water.
Other then doing guard duty Reth had become an apiarist. He had found a book on the subject, along with other useful 'how to' agricultural treatises, while cleaning out the mo'home and using the knowledge thus gained he had constructed hives, caught swarms, and learned the ways of the bee. The wax they produced was good for making candles and sweet honey became a welcome addition to their diet. They were also useful for pollinating the blossom in the small orchard that he had planted with seeds from fruits of trees he found growing wild in the Radicals. The drought meant that all grey water had to be collected and recycled for the gardens for apart from the crops of vegetables they grew, using information gained from the mo'home source, their only other nourishment came when one of the men occasionally walked to the nearest generally safe local centre to trade candles or other bits and pieces rescued from the dump for what ever foodstuffs might be available.
Joey with Babs close behind came running from around the side of the house and up on to the verandah.
“D'you know what this is Uncle Reth?” Joey asked, holding a flat round object out for inspection.
“Where did you find that?”
“I dropped my best golden neckalace down the back of the old seat in the mo'home and when my Dad pulled it out, this was stuck down the hole,” answered Babs solemnly.
Reth took the article and turned it over in his hands. It was a long time since he'd seen one of these but he remembered how it worked.
Click.
He pushed the small indentation on one side, a ball of light popped up and inside of it were two small figures. Reth recognised one of them instantly as being BB in uniform but the other was a girl he didn't know. She was all dressed up and adorned with glittering jewellery including a tiara on her head while BB wore a shining crown on his. As Reth watched the two dancing together on top of the device in perfect time to the tinkling little tune sounding from within it, memories of his time on Orth suddenly came flooding back.
“That's really pretty,” remarked Babs.
“Wow!” said Joey his eyes round with wonder. “I've never seen anything like it before ever. Where does it come from please Uncle Reth?”
As Joey looked questioningly up at him, the eyes that gleamed from under two straight eyebrows and the short straight dark hair with its unruly tuft that stuck up in the front looked so familiar that Reth almost dropped the Hologram in surprise. Then the moment passed and Reth saw that it was Joey standing in front of him, not a younger version of Alf. Yet strangely enough the resemblance remained.
“It comes from a place called Orth,” said Reth and he recalled seeing BB tucking just such an object as this into his pocket after their landing on Terra. The find could only mean that it must have fallen out unnoticed while they were sitting in the mo'home having that meal together so long ago.
“Where's that?”
“It's a long long way away,” Reth replied. “I visited it once a few years back when I was a space pilot and got accidentally caught up in time warp. Would you like me to tell you both about it?”
“Is it an exciting story?”
“It's not just exciting, it's a true story of adventure.”
“Tell it then please Uncle.”
“Yes, tell it please,” added Babs.
“Sit down and make yourselves comfortable then and I'll begin.”
The children pulled two chairs around to face him, and as soon as they were sitting down Reth began his story. “Once upon a time I volunteered for the Corporate Peace Service and was selected to pilot a ship going to a space war.”
As he spoke the children's eyes often strayed to the disc he still held in his hands and the two tiny figures twirling round and round on top while the music inside played on.
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