The Mechanical Messiah and Other Marvels of the Modern Age

by Robert Rankin

  Dragons were untrodden territory for Mr Bell. And so when Alice asked him whether the dragon would eat them all, he had little he could tell her in reply.

  ‘Arm up, chaps,’ called Colonel Katterfelto. ‘If you’re up to shooting something, now would be the time.’

  Alice peeped out at the dragon. It really was a most exquisite creature and looked to her exactly how a dragon really should. Fifty feet from tail to snout. Green and scaly all about. Tiny wings upon its back and smoke coming out of its nostrils. It paced up and down outside the spaceship upon four stubby legs, occasionally flicking its barbed tail and snorting fearfully. It made Alice feel most terribly afraid, but also strangely excited.

  The Jovian hunters, now unroped, were cocking their ray-gun rifles.

  ‘Rank up facing the door,’ said Colonel Katterfelto. ‘Two ranks, one kneeling, other standing behind, that’s the stuff. Now imagine you’re potting the Zulus at Rorke’s Drift. Or, if that means nothing to you, just do as I say. When I unbolt the door, front rank fire, then we’ll take it from there.’

  Colonel Katterfelto approached the door. Darwin the monkey shook his head.

  ‘Ah,’ said the colonel. ‘Understand your doubts. Might get cut down when they all fire together.’

  Darwin the monkey nodded.

  ‘You must not shoot it,’ said Alice.

  ‘Madam,’ said the colonel, ‘I have no wish to be ungallant, but I will leave the training of kiwis to you and you must leave the slaying of dragons to me.

  ‘Saint George had a lance,’ said Alice. ‘Ray guns are not very sporting.’

  ‘Sure Saint George would have liked a ray gun,’ muttered the colonel, positioning himself to the rear of the hunters’ ranks. ‘Open the door, please, Stumpy, then we’ll have a pop at the beast.’

  Corporal Larkspur came bustling up from somewhere. ‘Thou shalt not discharge any weapon aboard this spaceship,’ said he, in no uncertain manner. ‘One misplaced bolt might breacheth the hull. A hole spelleth doom in space.

  ‘Fellow’s right,’ agreed the colonel. ‘Stumpy, open up the door. Others march outside and form new ranks.’

  None of the Jovians seemed too keen to comply.

  ‘Imagine that head on your study wall,’ said the colonel. But even this incentive failed to move the hunters.

  ‘I shalt turn the cannon upon it,’ said Corporal Larkspur.

  ‘And lo the beast shall grievous fall beneath its mighty prang.

  ‘Cannon?’ queried the colonel. ‘Prang?’ he queried also.

  ‘Mark Five Patent Prang Cannon,’ explained the corporal. ‘Latest thing, thou knowest. It employeth the transsubstantiation of pseudo-kharmic antipasti.’

  ‘Think you have that in a bit of a twist,’ said the colonel, who did his best to keep abreast of all the latest innovations in death-ray technology. ‘But catch the drift. Give the beast both barrels and see if the job gets jobbed.’

  ‘Cameron, stop this, please,’ said Alice.

  ‘Perhaps if we all stay very quiet it will lose interest and go elsewhere,’ Cameron Bell suggested to Corporal Larkspur.

  The corporal eyed the private detective in a manner far from friendly. ‘Perhaps thou wouldst care to stepeth outside and shooeth it away,’ he suggested.

  The dragon now struck the side of the spaceship, shaking the occupants all about and causing considerable alarm.

  ‘Breeched hull will meaneth all die-eth,’ said the corporal.

  ‘Man the prang cannon,’ said the colonel.

  The existence of the prang cannon came as something of a surprise to Cameron Bell. This was, after all, a commercial vehicle of space, not an armed man-o’-war. A spaceship such as this, one that might be chartered by whomever could afford such a luxury, would not normally be expected to carry inbuilt weaponry. True it had originally been a Martian invasion craft. But these did not have cannons mounted upon them.

  There was clearly much much more to this venture beyond an illegal hunt.

  Darwin the monkey tugged at the colonel’s trousers.

  ‘What is it, my dear fellow?’ asked the oldster.

  ‘I want to fire the prang cannon,’ said Darwin.

  But this he was denied.

  In fact no one upon this particular midday of the London clock got to fire the prang cannon. There was a manual containing many pages of complicated instructions that had to be read and thoroughly absorbed before this technological terror weapon was even switched on. And the firing seat had thirty-two different position settings and the prang cannon could not be charged up ready for firing without the brass ignition key to the spaceship being inserted into its dashboard.

  And the brass ignition key had unaccountably gone missing.

  Which caused considerable distress to Corporal Larkspur.

  ‘I am sure it will turn up,’ said Cameron Bell, smiling somewhat as he said it.

  Another great buffet upon the hull informed all and sundry that the dragon’s intentions, whatever they proved ultimately to be, included gaining access to the Marie Lloyd.

  ‘Back to Plan A,’ said the colonel. ‘Open the door, Stumpy.’

  ‘No,’ cried Alice. ‘Please don’t shoot the dragon.’

  ‘Balls,’ said Colonel Katterfelto, ‘take the young lady to her cabin, if you will.’

  The dragon struck the hull once more and everyone fell over.

  ‘Right,’ said the colonel, struggling up to his feet. ‘Nothing for it. I will deal with this.’ And drawing his ray gun from its holster he ordered Stumpy to unbolt the door.

  ‘Perhaps we might reconsider our options,’ Darwin suggested. ‘I have no doubts as to your bravery, but many for your prospects of survival.’

  ‘Duty,’ said the colonel. ‘My responsibility. Safety of all up to me.

  ‘Perhaps it might just go away,’ said Darwin.

  The dragon struck the Marie Lloyd once more.

  Stumpy drew the bolts with some difficulty, then kicked open the door. Colonel Katterfelto charged out through it, ray gun raised on high.

  Stumpy hastily drew the door shut and nudged the bolts back into place.

  ‘Brave fellow,’ said Cameron Bell. ‘I will miss him.’

  Darwin’s face was one of horror. ‘Someone help him,’ he cried.

  But none showed any enthusiasm. All just peered through the portholes.

  Beyond the portholes stood the colonel, squaring up to the dragon. The thing of myth and wonder towered above, smoke issuing from its nostrils, up on its stocky hind legs, scaly and fearsome to behold.

  Colonel Katterfelto aimed his ray gun at its head. ‘Now see here,’ he told it. ‘Have to ask you to take your leave. Or be forced to shoot you dead. Understand? Don’t speak dragon language, but I’m sure you catch my drift.’

  The dragon glared down on the figure below. Flames licked at its lips and its jaws went snap-snap-snap.

  ‘Cut along now,’ ordered the colonel. ‘Nothing for you here. Back to your nest, or whatever.’

  Flames roared down from the dragon above. The colonel stepped nimbly aside.

  ‘Final warning,’ said he. ‘Make off now, or in future folk will know me as Colonel Katterfelto, the chap with the dragon-skin luggage.’

  ‘And hero of the Martian Campaign.’

  ‘Napoleon’s pickled nads,’ said the colonel, employing an expression indicative of extreme surprise. ‘Talking dragon, is it, be damned?’

  ‘Same old Katterfelto.’

  ‘Didn’t see your lips move,’ said the colonel.

  ‘If you look over here, then you might.’

  ‘Know that voice,’ said the colonel. ‘Recall it from somewhere.’

  ‘Of course you do, you fearless fool. And please don’t shoot me pet.’

  The old soldier stared and then he said, ‘Damn me, Tinker, it’s you.

  A ragged figure stood beside the dragon. He wore the ruins of a military uniform and sported a vast mop of snow-white hair with massive matching beard.
>
  ‘Major Thadeus Tinker, Queen’s Own Electric Fusiliers, ‘said this war-torn apparition. ‘Permission to come aboard the Marie Lloyd?’

  ‘Permission granted.’ The colonel saluted. ‘But leave your pet outside.’

  38

  tay here, Colin, and don’t cause any fuss,’ Major Thadeus Tinker told the dragon.

  ‘Colin?’ queried Colonel Katterfelto.

  ‘Seemed as good a name as any.

  The colonel ordered the opening up of the spaceship’s door and he accompanied his old friend aboard the Marie Lloyd. And then made introductions all around.

  ‘Bar, I think,’ said the colonel. ‘I’m sure you can remember where it is.’

  Off to the bar went the reunited friends, followed by everyone else. Seats were taken, champagne poured and the major told his tale.

  ‘As some of you will know,’ he began, ‘after the defeat of the Martians, Katters here took to leading big-game hunts on the red planet. Terrible business, very sad—’

  The colonel raised an eyebrow.

  ‘Quite so,’ continued the major. ‘I myself had always had adventure in me veins. So, got a licence from the Ministry of Serendipity in London to explore and chart Mars. Then thought I’d take off and have a look around hereabouts.

  Things, however, went the shape of a pear and found meself marooned. Chummed up with Colin for company, as it were. Waited for rescue. Pleased that you came so quickly, really.’ The major, evidently of the opinion that his tale was now told, got stuck into the champagne proper and sought to help himself to biscuits.

  ‘Not quite following you there, old bean,’ said Colonel Katterfelto, drawing the biscuit plate beyond the major’s reach. ‘We all thought that you were long dead, doncha know.’

  ‘Long dead?’ said the major. ‘In a week?’

  ‘Not quite following you there, either.’ The colonel helped himself to a biscuit and dunked it in his champagne. ‘You have been missing for seven years. Not seven days.’

  ‘Hardly sporting to pull a chap’s plonker with a lady present,’ replied Major Thadeus Tinker. ‘The first day dragged a bit, I recall. The other six went speedily.’

  ‘Oh my,’ said Alice. ‘I understand.’

  ‘I certainly don’t,’ said the colonel.

  ‘This is a magical world,’ said Alice. ‘Time is different here. As it is said to be in Fairyland. When I was a child, my uncle told me stories of children in past times who wandered into fairy mounds, met with the secret folk, danced with them and ate their food. These children returned to their own world after what they thought to be a few hours to find that one hundred years had passed.’

  ‘Tish, tosh and old wet fish,’ said the colonel. ‘Never heard such folderol.’

  Darwin the monkey nudged at the colonel’s elbow. ‘Let us not forget the matter of the invisible spaceship and the dragon outside,’ he whispered.

  ‘Quite so,’ puffed the colonel. ‘But tell me this, Major, old mucker me lad. If you are convinced that you’ve only been here seven days, explain the face furniture and the long snowy locks on your bonce.’

  ‘Thought it something to do with the atmosphere.’ The major reached out and drew the biscuit plate to him. ‘Felt a lot fitter since I’ve been here.’

  ‘As a matter of interest,’ said Cameron Bell, ‘my eyesight has improved considerably since we landed here. Always needed my pince-nez before, but I seem to have perfect vision once again.’

  As evidently this was not considered a matter of interest amongst the general assembly, Cameron Bell said no more. He sought to get a biscuit, but there were none to be had.

  ‘Tell us about the dragon, please,’ said Alice.

  ‘Colin?’ said Major Tinker. ‘Harmless enough beast in his way. But apparently dragons guard gold. That’s their role in life. Other than for getting up to unspeakable carryings-on with virgins—’ Alice blushed at this. The dragon had stirred certain feelings within her, this was true. ‘—and being bothered by knights in armour. They guard gold. Like griffins do. And other beasties, too, I understand. My fellow explorers got a bit carried away when they discovered just how much gold there was on this world. I was away when Colin came upon them. There was considerable unpleasantness. Not much left to bury, if you follow what I’m saying.’

  Heads nodded gravely. Jovians glowered at Colonel Katterfelto.

  ‘Come now,’ huffed and puffed the colonel. ‘How was I supposed to know that?’ He straightened his uniform, which bulged with its hoard of Venusian gold.

  ‘Kept dogs all my life,’ the major continued. ‘Spaniels mostly, just to know the weather in advance. But there’s not much difference between a spaniel and a dragon. But for the size, and the scalyness, and the wings, and the fiery breath, and the—’

  ‘But similar to train,’ said the colonel.

  ‘Not really,’ said the major. ‘But for the sake of argument, let’s say yes.’

  ‘Why did you not fly back to Earth in your spaceship?’ Alice asked.

  ‘Yes,’ agreed the colonel. ‘Good question. Was going to ask that myself. Yes indeed. Most certainly.’

  ‘It vanished,’ said Major Thadeus Tinker.

  ‘Ah,’ said the colonel. ‘Let me put you straight, my good fellow. Turned invisible is what it did. Ours did likewise, too.’

  ‘I know it turned invisible,’ said the major. ‘I’m not a dammed loony, you know. Came back to find Colin charcoal-grilling my fellow explorers and the ship no longer where it should be. But no dents in the ground where it stood. Suspected some kind of trickery involved. Did bang my head the first time, though.’

  ‘So your spaceship is still where you left it,’ said Alice.

  ‘No, dear lady, no. It reappeared, but then went away for good two days later. Vanished a bit at a time. First the tail fins, then the stores, then the whole damn shebang. By the fourth day the ship had gone completely. I should have taken off when I still had the chance. But you know how it is. If you’ve never had a dragon for a pet before, you get carried away. But the spaceship, poof, gone, pity really, but there you are.

  Darwin looked at the colonel. The Jovians looked at one another. Corporal Larkspur looked at all and sundry.

  ‘Given the temporal differences,’ he said, ‘and the strong possibility that this spaceship will inevitably become subject to a supernatural disassociation with our reality, it is my considered belief that we should not remain upon this planet any longer than another twelve Earth hours.’

  Corporal Larkspur blinked. All eyes were suddenly upon him. ‘Why do you look at me so?’ he asked. ‘Surely I am voicing a consensus opinion. We do not wish to become marooned upon Venus, do we? What?’

  ‘Your accent,’ said Darwin, saying what all others thought. ‘You are suddenly speaking like an English gentleman rather than a Jovian. What of this?’

  Corporal Larkspur looked from one to the other. And from one to the other and back again. ‘I tookest a language course, said he. ‘I readeth a pronunciation book by Herr Döktor. Learneth to speaketh the Queen’s English. It ith my ambition to gaineth the job of Society columnist on The Times newspaper. Yea, verily, thus and so and things of that nature generaleth.’

  ‘Well, that’s all right then,’ said the colonel. ‘Thought for one moment that something suspicious was going on.’

  Corporal Larkspur shook his head vigorously. ‘Noteth one bit of it,’ said he.

  The Jovians began to laugh, which eased away much of the tension.

  Cameron Bell quietly ground his teeth and felt shamed to his very core. Corporal Larkspur was clearly not a real Jovian. But somehow, even after searching his private quarters, this had slipped by Cameron Bell.

  ‘Are you all right, Cameron?’ asked Alice. ‘You seem to have turned a most unpleasing tone of grey.’

  ‘Iffy biscuit, perhaps,’ said the private detective. ‘Might I ask the major a question?’

  ‘You certainly might,’ said himself.

  ‘During your stay
here have you had any contact with the Venusians?’

  ‘Happily not.’ The major drained champagne from his glass. ‘They adopt the methods of our American cousins when dealing with Red Indians: shoot first and ask questions later. I have seen their aether ships many times, drifting overhead like fairy castles in the sky. It’s a queer world here, right enough. Ray guns don’t work on the animals. Make them damned angry, though.’

  The Jovians were once more done with laughter and took again to making grumpy faces.

  Stumpy said, ‘I think I shalt require my money back.’

  Corporal Larkspur made an uneasy expression. ‘The colonel shalt organise something,’ he said. ‘Shouldest he wish to pocketeth his fee.’

  ‘Bows and arrows, perhaps,’ said the colonel. ‘Catapults at a push.’

  ‘I think our major concern,’ said Cameron Bell, ‘should be for the time differences, naturally not forgetting that the spaceship might start to vanish for good. If a day here represents a year upon Earth—’ But then he paused and smiled. The passing of a year upon Earth actually suited him rather well. Things would have quietened down considerably in a year. The Crystal Palace would probably have been rebuilt and Commander Case, having failed to solve the cases of the incinerated bill-toppers, would be very grateful indeed to become reacquainted with Mr Cameron Bell.

  ‘Another twelve Earth hours on our watches,’ said Cameron Bell. ‘Then we should depart, no matter what.’

  ‘How proposeth thou to pay for thy return flight?’ asked Corporal Larkspur. But Cameron Bell did not reply to this.

  ‘Damned fine to see you again, though, Tinker,’ said the colonel. ‘Let’s pop another bottle of bubbly. Talk the toot like the old days. Get all rat-faced and maudlin. How does that suit you?’

  ‘Very well,’ said the major. ‘And damn fine to see you, too. It will be absolutely splendid to get back to London once more. We might have a night out at the Music Hall. What do you say to that?’

  ‘We might,’ said the colonel. ‘We might.’

  ‘Of course we might, we can chuck old fruit and veg at the useless bugger who bottoms the bill and eye up the dolly-mop girls of easy virtue who parade about onstage training their birdies. What do you say to that?’