by J Battle
‘If we don’t comply, what happens?’
‘Why, they switch off the containment fields of course, and all the planets will be destroyed in a matter of seconds. I’ve told the President all of this, of course.’
‘What did he say?’
‘He wasn’t best pleased when I told him about the mix-up with Earth and Greenhaven.’
‘What mix-up?’
‘Oh, just for a bit of a laugh, I told them that Greenhaven is your home planet, and so it doesn’t have black hole in orbit around it.’
‘But Earth does?’
‘See, you’re just the same, going all frosty on a girl who just wanted a bit of fun.’
‘Is he closing down the planets?’
‘He hadn’t started when I left, but I’m sure he will. He’s got two days; did I tell you that already. Oh, I nearly forgot to tell you, the President, he was so pleased when I said I might help him keep his job through all this that he agreed that it was in the interest of humanity as a whole if you, and all your family, and your strange little friend Sam, were locked away. Never to see the light of day again, I think he said; very Victorian I thought. ’
‘Right, I’ve had enough of his nonsense. Neville, I think…’
‘ATTENTION, ATTENTION. HOLD STILL FOR BOARDING. DO NOT MAKE AN ATTEMPT WITH WEAPONS OR TO ESCAPE. THIS IS THE GALACTIC CONFEDERATION WILL IMPOSITION FORCE AND NONE MAY WITHSTAND US.’ The voice reverberated around the room; startling in its upper-casedness
‘They always say that last bit,’ said Millie, with a slightly subdued tone.
Then we were surrounded by tall angular creatures with too many limbs and not enough manners, in my humble opinion.
‘DO NOT RESIST AND YOU WILL NOT BE HARMED.’
I was flat on my stomach, with a large heavy foot in the middle of my back, so resisting was a long way from my thoughts; well behind survival and I wish I’d worn nicer underwear.
‘Squirt us out of here, Neville,‘ I hissed. ’I shouldn’t have to tell you to do this in this sort of situation. It should be obvious to you, even if you are much dumber than LOrd.’
‘We can’t squirt at the moment. That facility is being blocked by our new visitors.’
Damn! I thought. Not good, I thought. Will I be able to sneak out when no-one is looking? I thought.
‘EX-YMPLAT-DONE (Millie to us) YOU HAVE BEEN CHARGED WITH CRIMES AGAINST BALANCE AND YOU MUST RETURN WITH US TO FACE TRIAL.’
‘Can’t you see I’m a bit busy at the moment?’ she said, without any spark or venom, as if she was just going through the motions and her heart wasn’t really in it.
‘COME NOW OR FACE IMMEDIATE AND SUMMARY CONSEQUENCES.’
‘Alright, alright. You can stop with all the threats. I’m coming. Look, I’m not resisting.’
‘Philip, I have an idea. You’re not going to like it, but trust me, it is critical that you do as I say.’
‘What are you going on about?’
‘We don’t have time to argue, so please repeat what I say verbatim. Quickly, before they go.’
‘What? You can’t expect me to…’
‘We don’t have time Philip, please just trust me.’
‘But…’
‘Just say these words, now. They are getting ready to go.’
‘Alright, if you say so, but if I end up hanging from mile-high cliffs again, you won’t hear the last of it.’
‘OK, repeat after me...Excuse me members of the Galactic Confederation Will Imposition Force…’
‘Excuse me members of the Galactic Confederation Will Imposition Force…’
‘I have important information in support of your case against Millie…’
‘I have important information in support of your case against Millie…’ Where is this all going? I wondered.
‘So please take me with you to testify at her trial.’
‘So please take me with you…What!’
‘Say the words Philip, the future of Earth could well depend on it.’
‘Please take me with you to testify at her trial.’ I didn’t want to say the words, but Neville knows his emotional blackmail; I’ll give him that.
The nearest of the Aliens turned to me and gave me one of those are-you-really-going–to waste-my-time-with-this? looks.
‘YOU MAY ACCOMPANY US, AND YOUR ACCOUNT MUST BE HONEST AND COMPLETE.’
Great, I thought. Just what I want, I thought. Here we go again, I thought.
(The astute reader, if any are still reading, will wonder what language the members of the Galactic Confederation Will Imposition Force used. Well, of course they used Galactic Standard. In reality Neville had to translate every word for Phil, but it was such a long-winded affair that I decided to go with Phil understanding alien speech; it’s hardly the most ridiculous idea you’ll find within these pages. N.F.)
Chapter 20 Then, round them up boys
Chips Chandler took a moment to glance over the audience. More than 20 people were scattered about the small bookshop, so it was a better turnout than the last few presentations.
Still, Mary was probably right when she said that he was wasting his time on this book tour. Although, it had to be said, she felt the same about everything he did with his life.
‘Thank you, Ladies and Gentlemen for coming out on this wet night just to listen to me. It’s much appreciated.’
He could hear Mary’s voice in is head, as if she was standing right beside him, giving the crowd a sharp look.
‘They’re only here for the free books,’ she would have said.
Chips pushed her out of his mind, before he double-checked the audience to see if Julie or Phil had turned up. He was back in Manchester for this part of the tour, and he’d left messages, but so far, there was no sign of his children.
He held up the thick volume he was intending to talk about today. It was part I of his monumental and much anticipated new work (at least it was much anticipated by his single fan in Australia, who had so far read all of his books, and given each a five-star rating), The Demise of Northern English Working Class In the Last Third of the 20th Century (Part I).
In a slight departure from his usual practice, he’d done a bit of research for this new tome; mostly in the form of watching re-runs of Coronation Street and listening to Oasis songs.
He was, however, not entirely happy with the title. ‘It doesn’t sing to me,’ he told Mary, at one of their occasional and somewhat tense dinners. Everything was somewhat tense with his somewhat estranged wife.
‘I’m going to read from the chapter entitled ‘The Yuppie and the Lumpen’, which describes in exquisite detail how the Working Classes of this great region tore itself in two; one half reaching desperately for Middle Class, and the other sinking with a mixture of despair and gratitude in to the depths of…’
‘Mr. Chips Chandler,’ called a loud, authoritative voice from the entrance to the shop.
Chips smiled. ‘Yes, of course. Come in, you haven’t missed much. I was just about…what’s going on here? Is that really…?’
Three tall, well-built men, all dressed in matching black outfits and sunglasses, marched through the shop, barging aside those who were too slow to move out of their way.
‘Mr. Chips Chandler, will you please come with us? Do not think of resisting, as that would only make the whole experience more fun for us,’ said the leader of the team.
‘But…who are you, anyway?’
‘That is on a need to know basis, and you don’t need to know. This is a matter of Global Security, so don’t give us any trouble.’
Chips looked down at the book in his hand. It was of a good weight, but it was hardly a weapon, unless it was in the war against ignorance.
He lowered the book to the desk before him, and he raised his hands. He’d seen the films; he knew what to do in this situation.
‘I get a phone call, don’t I?’
The leader laughed. ‘What do you think this is? The 20th Century?’
Within seconds Chips was in cuffs and was marched from the shop, leaving a small, stunned crowd of history and freebie loving readers behind.
The door had barely swung closed behind Chips when the first of the group managed to overcome the shock and moved to pick up one of the books from the stack by the desk.
‘It’s what he would have wanted,’ he said, by way of justification.
**********
Sam was sitting in a coffee shop, nursing his fourth coffee of the day.
It wasn’t the same as sitting in a pub, but they’d all been shut down by decree of LOrd, so he had little choice.
He checked his watch; an ancient manual timepiece that actually needed to be wound up on a daily basis. Of course, he wasn’t wearing a wrist-top, because that would make it just too easy for them.
He had half an hour before the night’s curfew kicked in, and the dregs of his coffee were already cold. Could he face another coffee? Or should he just go home to Auntie Nellie’s?
He’d just about decided that the answers were no and yes, when the door to his right burst open, and three dark-suited, dark-glassed, and dark-attituded men rushed in.
They immediately gathered around Sam, possibly glowering down at him, but it was difficult to tell when you couldn’t see their eyes.
‘So,’ said Sam, with the casual I-know-how-this-is-going-to-play manner that he thought Phil would have used, ‘you’ve come for me at last?’
He gave his watch another glance, and then he picked up his hat.
‘You’re late,‘ he said, as he began to stand.
‘Don’t give us any trouble, son,’ said the closest of the newcomers. ‘We like trouble.’
As they cuffed him, he asked, ‘where are you taking me?’
‘Can’t say, son. Matter of Global Security. I can say that you won’t like it.’
‘I understand,’ said Sam. ‘You’re just following orders.’
The shove was entirely uncalled for.
**********
Mary heard them coming before she saw them.
‘City boys,‘ she whispered as she slid back into the shadows
There were three of them, and their dark clothing should have given them a little more stealth but with those sunglasses and the low light conditions, they kept bumping into each other.
‘Spread out,’ said the obvious leader; the one with the big silver gun in his right hand. ‘She has to be near.’
Mary smiled at that, and she slipped her garrote from her belt. She gripped it for a moment, and then she changed her mind. Too slow, and too fatal, she thought. She replaced the garrote and took out her cosh. That’s better, she thought.
She’d left her wrist-top just on the edge of the clearing, so she knew exactly where they would be, and where she shouldn’t be.
They stood around for a couple of moments, staring down at the discarded wrist-top that had led them to this forest in a deep valley in the middle of nowhere.
‘What now, boss?’ said one of the men without the gun.
Mary smiled, and put away her cosh. There’s no need for violence, she thought, not when I can leave them stranded here.
She slipped back through the trees and easily found their Google Super-Stealth helicopter, sitting in the open for everyone to see, with only the pilot standing guard.
‘Excuse me, young man,’ she said, in her best quivering old-lady voice.
He turned and looked down at her with a puzzled expression on his face.
‘Aren’t you…?’
With a quick blow to the carotid, she helped him fall to ground.
The helicopter was not one she’d flown before, but these days everything is so intuitive that she had no trouble taking off and making her escape.
**********
Julie stared up at the gleeful grin on Mrs. Masters’ face, and she tensed, preparing to throw herself at her captor in a desperate bid for freedom.
She knew that it was probably hopeless, but it was better than helpless in her mind, so she was going to do it.
Then the door burst open. It’s probably more accurate to say that the door burst into pieces; it just incidental that the result was effectively an open doorway.
In dashed three men, all dressed in black, with dark glasses and big guns.
‘Julie Chandler? You’re coming with us,’ said the leader of the bunch.
Julie jiggled her restraints, then she looked from her crazy-eyed jailor to the three guns pointing at her in a relaxed, but we-can-still-kill-you manner.
‘Yes,’ she said, ‘you’re probably right.’
Chapter 21 Now, the convicted
Now you’ve caught up with me and we’re going all present tense. As usual, if I shut up abruptly, or start to cry, or rush to hide in a corner, it’s only because I’ve seen something horrible coming my way and I haven’t got the time to tell you about it.
So, here we are in the court, on Millie’s home planet of, well, nobody's bothered to tell me the name, so we’ll call it planet X.
‘The court will accept a brief statement from the convicted, Ex-ymplat–Done (that’s Millie, just so you know),’ says the judge-guy.
Millie stands up a little straighter and she shuts her lower mouth. I can’t take my eyes off the string of drool that drifts slowly down to the floor of the court.
‘Thank you, Your Judicial Highness,‘ she says, and the frills along the top of her head ripple.
That’s what you call him, I think, I must remember that if I need to speak to him.
‘There has been a serious misunderstanding of my part in the proceedings to be discussed here today, and of my motivation and intentions. I intend to show this clearly to the court, and I would also urge the court to be wary of giving any weight at all to the words of the prevaricating and perjurious human I see in the court before me.’
I feel myself shrinking in my seat and I’m hoping that no-one is looking at me. If I had Neville, he could explain to me what she said, but even I can see it wasn’t nice. When she was a little girl, she was much nicer, I think.
She’s stopped talking now, and settled back on her haunches, and her lower mouth has dropped open and she’s started with the drooling again.
‘The court calls…’ the judge-guy looks down at the lectern, and I can see his wide flexible lips practicing the words he can see before him. ’The court calls Mister Philippa Humphrey Chandler.’
I’m just about to protest that he’s got my name wrong, and that I’m really not a girl, and… but, no; I ‘ve got more important things to fret about, because he means me and he’s calling my name. He wants me up there now, and my stomach flips and my legs suddenly decide that they like where they are and they don’t have the strength to lift me.
‘Now, Mister Philippa Humphrey Chandler. The court is impatient.’
‘Yes…your judicial… thingy.’ What did she call him?
There’s a little platform in front of judge-guy and across from Millie, and that’s where I’m standing. They don’t even give you a chair. I’m trying not to look at Millie, but this close it’s hard to keep your eyes off those flotation sacs.
‘Do you intend to speak the truth to the court?’
It seems a stupid question to me. I’m hardly likely to say no, I’m going to lie my little heart out to the court, so there!
I play it safe.
‘No, your highness, I mean, yes, your highness. Sorry I got that wrong.’
It’s hard to tell from an alien’s expression what he thinks of you, but he doesn’t look impressed.
‘Mr. Philippa Humphrey Chandler, will you look at the accused and confirm that you recognize her.’
I’m giving him a look now, because I think he’s got it wrong. Hasn’t he read his notes, or whatever the prosecution has given him?
He’s obviously not up on human expressions, because he ignores it completely.
‘The court requires a confirmed identification of the accused.’
‘But,’ I beg
in, and then I try a long pause, because how am I going to say this? ‘I don’t recognize her, as she is now, because she didn’t look like that when I knew her.’
There, I‘ve said, and I think it came out right, didn’t it? What do you think?
Oh, you’re no help.
‘The court requires a confirmed identification before your testimony can be accepted.’
Now I’m getting annoyed. Didn’t he hear what I said? Perhaps my squawks came out wrong.
‘I don’t recognize her, as she is now, because she didn’t look like that when I knew her.’ I speak very slowly, so that he can get every squawk.
He calls an official over to him, and he whispers something to him, and the official gives me the sort of look I normally only get from my mother, and that’s not good.
‘Please explain to the court.’
‘When I knew her, she was an eight-year old human girl, with long blonde hair and a party dress.’
There was more discussion, and more disparaging glances my way.
‘Is the court to understand,‘ he begins slowly, as if he can’t believe what he’s about to say, ‘that it is your intention to testify against a human child, an eight-year old female human child, and not against the convicted?’
Now, how do I answer a question like that?
I have to give it a go, though, because I’ve come a long way, and I’ve still got that ulterior motive I mentioned earlier.
‘The accused has the ability to appear in other guises, your Highness, sir. And when I knew her, that guise was as a human female child.’
Now, he’s got to get that, hasn’t he? I can’t be any clearer, can I?
‘Mister Philippa Humphrey Chandler, the court understands the accused’s shape-shifting capabilities. Of course we do, it’s not at all unusual for a 9th level citizen. I myself spend my weekends and other leisure times in the form of a centaur; it is just so invigorating. But, to get back to the issue at hand, what the court doesn’t understand is how you think you can accuse this citizen of the Galactic Confederation of the heinous crimes listed in the indictment, when you can’t even be sure that she was the perpetrator of these crimes. Surely direct identification must be the minimum requirement in any such circumstance.