by Phil Cocker
which football player was the best ever across generations of schoolchildren. It had seen many a love story blossom, flourish, and die, having many tears splashed onto its cold unfeeling form, and many a set of initials scratched off its surface.
Eric admired the view whilst waiting for his friend to finish chatting to a young lady. He smiled, as he could see that Tom was completely blind to her not too subtle flirtatious manoeuvres. The young lady giggled at Tom’s one-liners, stroked her hair back, blushed a little, touched his arm; all of which Tom couldn’t read.
The Bench was the starting point for any meeting at each break time, and always there before they went for lunch. The Bench had seen better days, but was still serviceable enough to be used every day, by lots of kids. It looked out over the school playing fields, speckled with thin white metal trees, marking the goals and posts of various football and rugby pitches. Looking north, and on a clear day, you could see the gently rolling outline of the Bowland fells.
Today was such a day and Eric remembered many a lovely walk around Beacon fell, and Parlick pike with his dad before he’d died. He sighed quietly, the morning’s dream having brought his father’s image back into the forefront of his mind.
“Oh before I forget.” Tom hitched his rucksack onto his shoulder with a simple flick. “Can I come for a sleep-over this weekend?”
“I’ll have to ask my Mum.” Eric replied, considering the advantages of having his best friend over to watch DVDs, play games and, as they were growing teenagers, eat midnight feasts of cheese on toast. This made him smile, his previous sorrowful thoughts drifted away to complete their own ascent of the fells in the distance.
“Mum and Dad aren’t going to the van as they’re off to a Concert, so I asked if I could stay at yours rather than be stuck in with a sitter.” He nodded enthusiastically at the simple brilliance of his idea. “We can play some Pool, a bit of Wii…” Tom excitedly said. “Gonna whip your butt, Boy.” He added in an American accent.
“Yeah right.” Eric replied. “You never beat me at anything; I can even beat you at Snakes and Ladders.”
“Ahhh, but what you don’t know is!” Tom waggled his head defiantly, “I’ve been practicing.”
“What, at Snakes and Ladders?”
“Nope, at Pool.” Tom played an imaginary shot that rocketed into a corner pocket, to which he celebrated by waggling the invisible cue in the air to the adulation of an adoring, and also imaginary crown in the Guild Hall. “And the winner is…”
“Once again, Eric Peterson.” Eric interjected. “As usual. So much so, that the bookies didn’t even take bets once they knew he had entered the competition.” He bowed to Tom’s imaginary crowd.
“What are you two doing?” John Armer had been watching for a few seconds from a distance. “You don’t half look like Numpties.” He added and glanced at his two now present henchmen to cue their laughter.
“Yeah John, you’re right, Numpties.” Dave Leach, the smaller of the two added, and then laughed.
“Yeah.” Trevor Rawlins, commonly known as Trev, simply added between his forced guffaws.
“I was just whipping this poor Saddo at Pool, if you must know.” Tom threw his arm around Eric’s shoulders and nodded vigorously.
“I don’t think so, Chummmmmm-p.” Eric countered with a grin. “I’d just won the Snooker Championships at the Preston Guild Hall.”
“What?” John was confused. He’d placed his hands on his hips, his elbows sticking out, one in front of Trev’s face, the other over the top of Dave’s head. The outline shape created by the three bullies was one of a small mountain.
“No worries, Mate.” Tom replied in an Australian accent.
“Yeah, we’ll show you the pictures and the DVD when we’ve come back from spending the £210,000 prize money.” Eric added, giving John a thumbs-up.
“And don’t forget to add in my £100,000 bonus for hitting a 147 in the 6th frame.” Tom added to the imaginary tale, and piled more onto John’s confusion.
“Oh Aye, although that was only one of 2 frames you won in the entire final.” Eric quipped. “Ah well, there’s always next year, isn’t there Tom.”
“Yep, there’s always next year.” He sighed a little despondently. “So, off to the Bahamas for a month then?” He asked Eric.
“Good idea, I’m getting fed up of Florida, the Australian Gold Coast, Port Aventura, and of course, Skegness.” He managed to control himself before he sniggered out loud. “All the great holiday resorts from around the world.”
It took a few seconds for John to work through the list before his face screwed up and he asked, “Skegness? Skegness?” Repeating the Lincolnshire resort’s name out loud, as if it would start to sound like one of the world’s great resorts. Dave and Trev kept quiet, not daring to question if Skegness was really one of the greats.
Eric seized his chance. “Lunch Tom?” He asked.
“Yep, it sounds like my stomach’s rumbling something rotten.”
“Sorry about this John, but we’re gonna have to dash again.” Eric threw his back over his shoulder, held up a hand apologetically, and then nodded sideways for him and Tom to make their escape, once again.
Chain of Command.
“I apologise for interfering with your normal routine, oh Great Commander Eklan.” Harrap spoke clearly into the communication unit that hung on the wall of the laboratory; he was extremely wary of who was on the other end of the line. “I also apologise for it taking 2 years, but I think we’ve finally perfected it.” Harrap’s hushed voice spoke as if it daren’t say the words out loud, in case he and his colleagues were wrong once again. Many failed experiments had been carried out on many subjects, and because of that; many of his former colleagues had never been seen again. He was now in charge of the team, but that leadership was only gained because of the mistakes his predecessors had made. His slight frame was quaking as he waited for a reply.
“Think?” The speaker replied.
“Erm.” Harrap realised he’d been over-cautious with his words, but had to be certain with his results. “All of the tests so far have confirmed a 100% success rate.”
The speaker remained silent.
Harrap felt a bead of sweat appear on his forehead. A second one appeared, then another. Two seconds passed, such a short span of time, but to Harrap it was an eternity as it felt as if a flood of sweat was pouring from his forehead. He had his hands on the metallic worktop, and they were getting damp and sticky. He lifted them to reveal two discoloured patches of sweat. Harrap swished an arm across his forehead, the silence unbearable.
“Good.”
The speaker clicked and the green light at the side flicked off, ending the call.
Harrap breathed a small sigh of relief. He knew that he was destined to be a scientist. His small physical build dictated that he couldn’t be a soldier or fulfill some other manual task. He was actually grateful for this, and was equally pleased that he’d been blessed with reasonable intelligence. This meant that he could apply himself to his education, and gain respect with his peers when he became a qualified scientist. The only downside was that he’d spent his life in similar featureless boxes, moving from one assignment to another, accepting that until it was completed, he was a prisoner. There were no windows to see any of the wonders that were undoubtedly outside.
He had seen many changes over the past 2 years, when he’d finally made the huge leap from the Science Academy to a Commander’s ship. He’d been brought on as a Junior 3rd Scientist, a rank never achieved before within by anyone in his village, and his last day with his family and friends had been one of celebration and wonder for what lay ahead. At that point nobody knew who he would be stationed under, and it was bad luck to guess at the outcome.
At the end of his first day of orientation, the rosters were posted and he was on the Supreme Commander K’nash’s ship. When he rang his wife, she wept with joy at how
high her Husband had climbed. Little did he know that within 2 years he would end up as Lead Scientist under the most feared of K’nash’s second tier, Commander, Eklan. This was widely known as a tainted position, as he’d got there by a series of dead-mans-shoes promotions, which occurred every time one of his predecessors failed Eklan.
He’d also witnessed massive advances in science. New ways of locating and creating test subjects had been developed along with more discrete methods for the physical extraction of those test subjects from unknowing and subterranean locations. He personally had made huge advances in understanding Human blood types, ever since the pure one had been found. Transporting people and equipment down from a ship to the surface of a planet had also been improved, using a new beaming technology that had been finally unlocked. This had taken years of testing by scientists working under Commander Prant on a desolate planet at the edge of their Galaxy. These technological advances were added to the latest ships, or ones with a Supreme Commander at the helm, but on the older ships, where Harrap was stationed, they still had to use the original methods.
Harrap had a few extra years over most of his colleagues on Eklan’s ship, and as such could help calm any problems & keep the younger ones focused on their tasks. He would also be willing to guide them through to completion, and had been known to send someone to