by Oliver EADE
‘The first time had to be with someone I love, Gary. I’ll never, never forget you. I’ve had my happiness and the rest I’ll put up with till I die so Mike can come back. He’s someone’s son, Gary. Please remember this... and forgive me. I love you so much, Beetie.’
“NO!” Gary shrieked, screwing up the paper and throwing it to the ground. “NO, NO, NO!”
His father retrieved the paper and read the message several times over. He rested his arm across his son’s shoulders, and Gary turned to the man and gave him the hug he’d so wanted to give the night before as he fought against tears with anger.
“Gary, what happened to the weird green tracksuit you had on before?”
Gary frowned. Of course. The tracksuit! His only link with the future… and with Beetie.
“Why?”
“On the radio news this morning. A down-and-out landed up in hospital last night. The Royal Free. He was found unconscious on the Heath wearing an identical tracksuit. He’d been stabbed…”
His dad’s words cut through Gary like a knife.
“Jesus!”
“Gary… whatever’s happening, remember you’re still a Catholic!”
“But… but they thought that was me. Oh God… it’s all my fault… my stupid bloody plans again! If only Mike were here! Dad, it’s safe for you and Mum to go home now. I’ve gotta visit this guy in the Royal Free right away.”
“Gary… please come back with us. Drop this whole thing, can’t you? Mum’s beside herself with worry.”
“NEVER!”
You stupid prick, Gary. Shouldn’t shout at Dad like that… and you’re gonna have to get lessons in bullshitting from Mike, too!
Later, at the hospital, a nurse blocked his way and said he couldn’t possibly visit a certain Seamus O’Malley lying unconscious in the High Dependency Unit.
“I’m a very old friend,” insisted Gary.
“Bit young for a ‘very old friend’, aren’t you? Anyway, the police are coming back some time. They need to question him about the robbery at the British Museum when he recovers. Seems he’s involved. They think he must’ve handed over that stolen ancient tablet thing to a third party who tried to kill him to break the link.”
“That’s the point! I’ve got his clothes here. Forensics might be interested.”
“I’ll take them... oh… wait…!” Gary was holding the bag open in front of the woman. She cupped her hand to her nose and stepped backwards. “Okay! Be quick! Before the doctor does his round.”
Gary sat at the Irishman’s bedside in the High Dependency Unit, staring at the spiky tracing moving across the monitor screen. A hand reached up and tapped on his shoulder.
“Holy Father, if it isn’t de little green man his self! Tell me, Gary, where’s de Holy Virgin?”
Gary’s heart wobbled like the monitor tracing. He stared at the pale, clean-shaven face peering up at him from under a pair of thick eyebrows.
“That’s the trouble, Seamus. I need your help.”
Chapter 13: And God’s Baby
“Hell! It’s her! The girl who was running towards Gary when I got zapped in the Hatcheries,” Mike whispered to Cathy. “Beetie… or Belinda. Whatever!”
Cathy, too, peered down.
“Belinda!” she agreed. “The Chairman’s girl.”
“She’s not with the Chairman now!”
A bespectacled old man with an untidy mop of white hair and a bushy white beard was holding the terrified girl by the arm.
“I don’t like this one bit… and there’s another old chum of ours!” Blinker, his face bruised, stepped forward into a space opening up in front of Beetie and God whilst surfacers were roughly pushed out of the way by three snappy Atlanteans.
“Blinker not dead? Well I never! Anyway we got ’er back at last, the stupid bitch. ’Spect that little shit who stole ’er ’as been turned into rat turd already for wastin’ our time like this! And who on earth are you, ya ’airy old git?”
The Atlantean prodded God in the belly, fixing his evil eyes on the old man’s inscrutable face.
“Allow me to introduce God,” explained Blinker. “Thanks for returning my sister, God. What a naughty little girl she’s been holding us all back like this!”
“You? Watcha mean ‘’oldin’ us back’? So where d’ya fink yer goin’ to, ya arse’ole?”
“Far from here, Zogor... very far from here!”
The Atlantean reached for his mag-stunner, but Blinker was too quick for him. He punched the little blighter in the face, causing him to stumble, and snatched the mag-stunner. The other big-heads backed away, uncertain.
“So, where’s the Chairman, now?” he asked. “Need to find out before we suck out your own Life-Force, God. Ex-God, I should say! Might give us a little extra boost, ay… the old God’s own Life-Force?”
“Zaman? Oh, he’s still looking for her in the past.”
“Well, go and get him! Meanwhile I’ll sort out my naughty little sister. Very soon she’ll be his, and good luck to him. I’ll take the cute little one with black hair and a white dress whilst you become fuel for the Belindaron to help us on our way to Paradise Planet! Funny when you think you were the one who started the whole enterprise. You even thought up that silly term ‘Civilisation Transference’, as our Chairman says you used to call the whole exercise. What big words, huh? Boy, I just can’t believe you were ever Chairman! They must have been desperate in the old days.”
“Beetie can never be his!”
“Oh, is someone gonna fight over her, then? Gary? He’s dead, isn’t he? Oh, of course! It’s why you’re here. They killed Gary and you tried to get my sister for yourself, using those specs of yours. Grabbed her, but forgot to readjust them you were in such a hurry, and, hey presto, here you are! Good one!”
“Wrong! We came for Mike. The Chairman expected you to keep him alive, whatever he said to you. I know how he thinks. We used to be friends. Beetie for Mike then?”
“Mike? Oh, you should’ve seen him struggle as his Life-Force got sucked out. Bit tough he was when we started cutting him up, though. Must be all that ball kicking he gets up to!”
“I don’t believe you. Even you wouldn’t be that stupid, Blinker.”
“Believe what you like, you old waster. Makes no odds to me.”
Blinker walked up to Beetie.
“So, what are we gonna do with you, my dear sister?”
Beetie’s large blue eyes narrowed. She spat in his face.
“I hate you, you traitor!” she replied. “And they haven’t killed Gary. He’s far too smart for them. Smarter than any of you. You wait! I’ll… I’ll… make sure the Chairman sorts you out, stupid little brother!”
“Oh, I’m so scared,” mocked Blinker. “Trouble is you’re not in a particularly good position to make sure of anything. I’ll soon have you begging for mercy!”
He ran his fingers through her blond hair with mock gentleness, before gripping her hair-band and yanking this free with a violent twist of the wrist.
“OW!” Beetie cried, cupping her hands over her smarting scalp. “You’re an animal!”
Blinker grabbed the girl’s arms, pulling them downwards. Beetie twisted and struggled, and tried to kick her brother’s shins, but in vain. He was too strong, and soon he had her wrists bound together behind her back.
“I’m sure the Chairman will think up a fitting punishment for his girl for running off! Mind you, if left to me, I’d hand you over to the gee-rats as a little treat before they disappear with the rest of London. I still can’t think why he’s the slightest bit interested in you.” He spat back in her face. “Put her in the Belindaron, someone! Away from the other girls. Don’t want to contaminate them.”
Blinker pushed Beetie into the bulging arms of a waiting heavy.
“I’ll tell the Chairman how you tried to climb into my bunk in the Retreat, Blinker! How I fought you off! No girl would ever want you anywhere near her. I should know!”
Blinker stepped fo
rward, gripped her by the chin and yanked her face level with his forcing her up onto tip-toes. For a few moments he only seemed able to blink in impotent fury before letting his hand drop with disgust.
“Flog her!” he commanded.
“You wouldn’t dare!”
“Flog her in front of all the other girls till she begs for my forgiveness. And when she does, tell her… ‘sorry, Blinker doesn’t do forgiveness!’ Ha ha! Only keep her alive enough for the Chairman to decide on her final punishment!”
Beetie looked pleadingly at God, hoping for a miracle.
“I told you, pretty one! That old guy’s a walking corpse, and your little friend from the past’s already dead meat!” teased Blinker.
Mike watched these goings-on as he lay stretched out on the broad tube with Cathy beside him. The girl’s presence made him feel brave. He wished to show her he was no chicken… but, knowing what happened in the grey building, he decided to hold onto his Life-Force a little longer, until…
“ZAMAN!”
God’s deep voice bellowed out as the heavy dragged a reluctant Beetie in the direction of a stepped ramp leading up to the oval door of the giant craft. Mike craned his neck. Teeth and Arthry stood below them having materialised from nowhere. The Atlantean appeared tiny beside the large black man, and Mike was tempted to call out to Arthry and suggest he shove the little wanker in his pocket. Common sense got the better of him, and he placed a hand over Cathy’s mouth in case she should start to go on about ‘windows’ again.
He was definitely warming to the girl. From the way she looked at him he was pretty certain she felt the same about him. If only his lips could come into contact with her sweet mouth…not his fingers! In fact, the more he thought about the girl the less the appeal of Veronica despite the redhead’s fantastic legs.
“My old friend God! Been such a long time, eh? Suppose I must thank you for delivering Belinda to me. Always thought you’d come to your senses in time. So you want that little waster, Mike, in exchange for my girl… right?” Blinker coughed with embarrassment. “Blinker promised me he’d look after him for you… but he so loves playing games.”
“Sir?”
“I taught him to say that. Sir! Could never get my Belinda to say ‘sir’, when she was a young girl in the Hatcheries. Pleased to see you’ve tamed her, Blinker. Can’t have her running away like that again. So… hand Mike back and let my friend go!”
“He… Mike, sir… he, well… he offered himself up. Yeah! Donated his Life-Force to your cause. After a little persuasion... and what you said, sir. Kind of ran amok first, slashing through the Life-Force tubes in the Hatcheries. So keen he started crawling along the main pipe to get to the Belindaron himself. I decided to make things easier for him.”
The Atlantean shrugged his small shoulders.
“So! Seems we’ve no more need for you, my old friend!’
He turned and winked at Beetie.
“KILL HIM!” he shouted.
A heavy armed with a spear stepped forwards and aimed his weapon at God.
“STOP!” Beetie screamed just as another Atlantean appeared at the open door of the Belindaron. The little fellow shouted to Teeth: “WAIT!” He scurried down the steps past Beetie.
“Okay! I’ll wait… like the man asks. Always obliging! Give God another few seconds on earth. In his beloved London.”
Teeth folded his arms and tapped the ground impatiently with one foot. The big-headed minion trotted up to his leader and whispered in his ear. The Chairman glanced over his shoulder at God.
“Seems you’ve got yourself a short reprieve… if that celebrated brain of yours can come up with a solution.” The heavy with the spear backed away. “It doesn’t work! Our chief engineer says your little toy here’s not working! To think we followed your design to the letter! Something wrong with the Life-Force injector, he thinks. Not your design, I hope! If that, well, what I plan for Belinda will be nothing compared with what I’m gonna do to you. If you’ve made a monkey of me all along, a spear through the heart is far too pleasant a death.”
“You just wouldn’t listen to me when we were friends, Zaman. Didn’t even believe what I told you about the imminent destruction of Atlantis until I took you forwards and showed you. I always said extracting Life-Force from ‘volunteers’, as you used to call those poor people, wouldn’t give you a high enough concentration of energy to drive the Belindaron. You know, it’s extraordinary you never once asked me how the time-specs work!”
Teeth glowered at the old man. Above anything else, he hated to be made a fool of in public.
“Been busy in the past quietly getting on with my project!” continued God. “Civilisation Transference. The important part. Learning how to trap and convert dark energy from the space all around us. We’ve entered a whole new era of physics, Zaman. After you lot are extinct again, turning into fossils entombed in a flooded London on a dead planet, we’ll be light centuries away. We’re the ones who’ll start afresh.”
“Aren’t you forgetting something, God?”
“Beetie? Yes, she’s your one bargaining point. Beetie! I’ll do anything for the girl. So I’ll be back. In a flash… because you’ve very little time left. The tectonic plates are more unstable than I thought. Only promise me you won’t harm her if you want to live a little longer!”
“Harm the girl? My own sweet love? Whatever can you be thinking of, God?”
“Blinker and his bullies? Threatening to flog her?”
“A flogging’s not harming her! Only teaching her a lesson for running away. Right, Blinker?”
“Sir!”
“So well trained, eh? No, when she’s learned her lesson I’ll be so kind to my dearest love. I’ll give her what she’s been dying for ever since our times together in the Hatcheries. She’ll be mine! My very own Belinda. Forever!”
“You’re wrong, Zaman. She’s mine already! Carrying my child!”
In the deathly silence that followed God’s announcement an almost touchable shock filled the hall. Teeth went rigid, momentarily struck dumb, but Mike’s reaction changed everything. The thought of the dirty old man below impregnating his best friend’s girl was too much to bear.
“YOU FILTHY OLD BASTARD!” he screamed from his lofty perch. In a flap of fury he wobbled and slipped, landing on top of Teeth and pinning the Atlantean to the ground. Something shaped like a large eye sparkled as it shot from the spread-eagled little man’s hand. Mike grabbed it before Teeth could retrieve the spectacles case, snapped it open, took out the time-specs and jumped back up.
“Doesn’t look dead to me!” exclaimed God.
“I’ll kill you myself,” threatened Mike. “She’s Gary’s girl. He’s mad about her.”
“MIKE… IS THAT YOU?” Beetie called from the steps of the ramp.
“Bloody well is! And if you’ve been leading my mate up the garden path, you little cow, I’ll…”
“MIKE, IT’S NOT HOW YOU THINK IT IS! I LOVE GARY! HE KNOWS I DO.” But the look Beetie gave God said it all as far as Mike was concerned; just cheap trash for glad-eyeing a spent old geezer. “HE’S…” she began, but was cut short by a scream as Cathy, too, fell. The girl’s wide white dress billowed like a parachute about her waist and Mike’s mouth fell open with approval at what was revealed as she dropped. Arthry caught her and let her down with surprising gentleness.
“Wow, Cathy!” Mike exclaimed. “They’re better than Veronica’s.”
“WATCH OUT FOR THE WINDOWS!” Cathy shouted.
Mike caught sight of Blinker staring greedily her.
“No you bloody don’t,” he cried, before running at Blinker and launching a kick at the boy’s groin. “She’s my girl! Like I thought Beetie was Gary’s.”
“URGH!” yelped Blinker, his knees buckling whilst his hands frantically clutched at his wounded manhood.
“You’re gonna pay for this, you old shit!” Mike barked at God.
What happened next was so quick neither God nor Beetie could s
top Mike. He pulled Cathy free from Arthry, held the girl firmly, made a quick adjustment to the time-specs before putting them on and together they vanished. Teeth struggled to his feet. He grabbed the groaning Blinker by the throat and shook him until the boy turned a funny shade of blue and made a noise like a frog croaking inwards as he fought for air. Finally, Teeth let go, and Blinker dropped, gasping, to the floor.
“Flog the girl then flog her brother!” he commanded.
“WAIT!”
It was Arthry. Until then he’d been a mere onlooker, taking no active part other than catching the falling Cathy.
“You? Are you gonna let me down as well? After all my promises?”
“No, Chairman. Better if you give the job to me. The flogging of Belinda, at least. No telling what damage Blinker’s brute would do with the whip. She’s your girl after all, and no one in their right mind can believe what God says, anyway. He was unable to give the old Belinda a child! How come he’s now so successful with her daughter? He’s lying, Chairman. It’s a ploy. I’ll deal with her myself. Rest assured I’ll not mark her where it shows. You’ll get your girl back and then you can comfort her with your poetry. Afterwards it’ll be like this little episode never happened.”
Teeth stared at Beetie, contemptuous of her tears.
“Make sure she’s sorry for the trouble she’s caused!”
He turned to God.
“If you happen to be right, my friend, her next punishment will be to kill your child with her own bare hands. Afterwards, I might consider sparing her from something worse than you can possibly imagine. Take her away, Arthry! Bring her to me when you’re sure she’s truly repentant! As for Blinker… we’ll let the other fellow get to work on him!”
“No! Please, Chairman. You hate bad news. I only wanted you to hear good stuff. I…”
“SHUT UP!”
Blinker was dragged off, protesting undying allegiance to The Agenda, as Teeth spun round and headed for a small door in the far wall... too small for anyone other than an Atlantean to pass through without crouching.