Galactic Keegan

by Scott Innes

  His words chilled me to my bones. Plus it threw me off what I was going to say to him, so I needed an extra few moments to regroup.

  ‘Listen,’ I said, gesturing to Barrington12 to pay attention and translate for Akplatak. I needed him to hear these words, or I’d be haunted by what we had done forever. ‘I’m going to do all I can, son, once I’m back home and after this spy stuff is sorted out, to make sure the people in my Compound do more for you and your kin. We can help you rebuild, to get yourselves back on track. It’s the least we can do. I’ll pull every string. Akkie, I’m just… I’m so bloody sorry. About everything. Please know… that I’m sorry.’

  Akplatak stared at me solemnly. I glanced at Barrington12, who had said nothing.

  ‘Barrington12,’ I said, trying to keep myself from getting choked up. ‘Tell him what I said. I need him to hear this. It’s important.’

  ‘POWER DANGEROUSLY LOW. VOICEBOX NOW DEACTIVATING TO PRESERVE REMAINING BATTERY LIFE.’

  He fell silent and said no more. Akplatak glanced from me to Barrington12, then took one final look at his Mullet God standing by the tunnel entrance, who was picking his nose absently, and then the tribe leader turned without a word and walked away. He vanished into the trees and was gone. I was sure that I would never see him again.

  ‘What a mess,’ I said under my breath. ‘What a damnable mess.’

  I walked back over to my friends. Gillian squeezed my arm.

  ‘Are you okay, Kevin?’ she asked, concerned. ‘You look like you’ve seen a ghost.’

  I thought of Akkie’s pallid face moments earlier.

  ‘I think I did,’ I replied. Thankfully, Gillian was intuitive enough not to press me any further.

  ‘Well,’ she said, slapping her thighs. ‘Let’s get home. I could murder a hot bath, I’ll tell you that much…’

  She trailed off and cocked her head. We could all hear it, clear as a bell: footsteps in the tunnel below. Someone was heading our way – and at a brisk pace, too.

  ‘Quick,’ I hissed. ‘Get down over here. You said it yourself, Gillian: if anyone from back home spots us out here, we’re finished – your Council credentials will count for nowt if they pin this spy stuff on us.’

  Hurriedly, Rodway replaced the grille – extricating his fingers delicately to avoid clanging it shut – and we all ducked down behind a large boulder to one side of the tunnel entrance. Barrington12 joined us at a painfully slow clip and was only just out of sight by the time the grille was pushed open from within. We all peered round from both sides of the rock and watched as a figure pulled themselves athletically up to ground level and dusted themselves down.

  ‘Please tell me I’m seeing things,’ I whispered in horror.

  ‘If you are,’ Gillian replied, ‘then we all are.’

  We watched with a growing feeling of dread as the figure hurried over to a large patch of shrubbery to the far left of the meadow and pulled it to one side like a curtain. My jaw dropped as I glimpsed the metallic sheen of a small one-pilot space shuttle concealed behind it. The figure clambered inside and, moments later, with a deafening roar, took off, propelled into the air, soon nothing more than a tiny speck skating across the blue morning sky. Once we could no longer see it with the naked eye, we emerged from behind the boulder and looked at one another, shell-shocked.

  ‘We need to get back to the Compound,’ I said. ‘Right now.’

  I had no idea whatsoever what we were going to do once we got back there. Who was ever going to believe the five of us when we told them that we had just witnessed General Leigh, the head of the Compound military and protector of all the citizens living within those four walls, covertly leaving to pilot a secret shuttle away from Palangonia?

  Akkie had warned that dark days were coming. It felt to me in that moment that they had already arrived.

  INFINITE MALAISE

  Two days passed and I was getting twitchy. Who knew what havoc Leigh was currently wreaking behind our backs? I remembered grimly the coarse spot of graffiti I’d noticed during my spell in prison, referring to him as a ‘L’zuhl shagger’, and suddenly it seemed less a taunt than a warning. Well, all right, maybe it wasn’t literally true (though listen, if it’s between consenting adults then just crack on, I say) but it now clearly indicated where the man’s true loyalties lay. I’d wanted to summon an emergency meeting of the other members of the Compound Council to announce the General’s treachery but Gillian urged caution.

  ‘It would be disastrous for this Compound if we accuse Leigh of such a heinous crime and turn out to be wrong,’ she said as we emerged from the tunnel behind the infirmary. ‘We have to wait and bide our time, we can’t go in all guns blazing.’

  I was very unhappy with this but, deep down, I knew that she was probably right. I was still reeling from the fact that Leigh was the spy. Oh, sure, I’d entertained the idea and pictured myself exposing him as a fraud to the citizens of the Compound, with me then being lifted aloft by the crowd and hailed as a hero, followed by Stevie Nicks sending me a pre-recorded message of congratulations while I collected my Medal of Galactic Valour from Laika in front of a packed hall of dignitaries. But I’d never seriously considered it a possibility. He was an odious turd, no question, but I never had him pegged as a lover of the L’zuhl.

  But at the end of the day, Leigh was a soldier and – like a pure football man such as myself – soldiers always want to be on the winning side. Leigh was a key figure in the human resistance, working closely with Alliance top brass to try to turn about the fortunes of a seemingly unwinnable war. My own experience out beyond the Compound walls had, whether I liked to admit it or not, affected me in some intangible way. I had seen true horror on that mountainside and had faced the very real possibility of an imminent and violent death. Leigh had no doubt been in just such a position many times in his career on the frontline. Had he seen things that had changed him, convinced him that there could be no victory? Was he working with the L’zuhl purely in the interests of self-preservation? He didn’t have to like it – perhaps he even felt shame. But if it was a choice between his victory and his life or his species… well, was it really so far-fetched? Why else would he be sneaking off down the old Palangonian escape tunnels to a hidden shuttle and then jet-setting off into space? Once his leaked intel brought the might of the L’zuhl armada down upon us, he had a handy little escape route mapped out for himself. The more I thought about the butter-wouldn’t-melt look on his face as he climbed up from the tunnel and into his concealed craft, the more I wanted to grass him up to see how he’d try to weasel his way out of it.

  Gillian raised another vital objection to this, however. If we revealed what we’d seen, then questions would immediately be asked as to why we ourselves were out there during the lockdown. With my reputation already tarnished by my false arrest and with Gillian a member of the Council herself (and one who had lost her security card), Leigh could very easily turn the situation to his own advantage. ‘I was in the tunnel searching for them,’ he’d say. ‘Imagine my surprise at seeing the whole gang loitering outside. I took an emergency shuttle out of there because I feared for my own life after stumbling across their plan; I had no choice…’ Damn it all, he’d have us over a barrel.

  I cannot abide deception; it makes me sick. I remember when I was at Newcastle in 2008, I got a call from some slimy agent promising me a big-name German international. As you might expect, I was thrilled and invited him up to see us. Well, it soon became clear that something wasn’t right. The kid was bang-average at best – and his German accent sounded suspiciously Scottish. Soon, the penny dropped. I marched over to the agent and grabbed him by the collar – I said, ‘What are you trying to pull? That’s just Hutton dressed as Lahm!’ I sent the pair of them packing.

  I had no choice but to stew. In the meantime, General Leigh, who had already returned by that evening, was strutting about the place like nothing had happened.

  ‘He thinks he’s cock of the walk,’ Gerry rem
arked as we sat by the window in Mr O’s Place and saw Leigh cruising by in one of the Harbinger vehicles.

  ‘Don’t be vulgar, Gerry,’ I said, sipping my hot chocolate. ‘You’re better than that.’

  I had been pleased to see an improvement in Gerry since we returned home. The topic of what had happened to him was given a wide berth and we were both happy with that arrangement. But the more time passed, the more colour returned to his cheeks and the bags under his eyes – so pronounced during our sad trek back from Great Strombago – had begun to fade. I was still deeply troubled by what had happened up there and I had a whole stack of questions I wanted to ask, but the truth was, nobody would have been in a position to answer even a single one of them. Whatever had taken place might very well happen again and the most difficult part was that I honestly had no clue what I would do if it did.

  The other nugget of good news – from our perspective, at least – was that Gillian’s Keycard had not been found. On the face of it, that might sound like a bad thing, but I didn’t feel that way. Had her lost card been found while we were out on our expedition to Great Strombago, it would have been catastrophic. A lost card and its owner gone AWOL was a disastrous combination. Wherever the card was, it was still out there. Or was it?

  My own theory, which I hadn’t yet put to Gillian for fear of making her feel even more anxious, was that Leigh himself had it, probably swiping it from her pocket at the end of a Council meeting. He was no doubt keeping it in reserve for when he was in danger of being caught, ready to leave it lying around in order to incriminate her. Or perhaps he was using it to leave a trail of breadcrumbs leading to poor Gillian? Was he perhaps becoming concerned that with her level head and clear thinking she might pose a growing threat to the sway he already held over the Council’s decisions? Perhaps he’d used the card to borrow those library books under her name; after all, she had been adamant she hadn’t taken any of them out herself. Christ, it was all just too perfect. I’d almost admire the bugger if I didn’t detest him so much. How could he do this? I couldn’t wait to see him cop for it eventually. And he would. If it took me to my dying breath, I’d see it done. No one messes Kevin Keegan about and gets away with it.

  Gerry looked at his watch.

  ‘Visiting hours have just started, Kev,’ he said. ‘Shall we head over?’

  ‘Aye,’ I said, scoffing the last of my doughnut. ‘Hopefully they’ll let him out today. Kid’s right as rain; it’s stupid, this.’

  As we had emerged, shattered and dirty, from the tunnel behind the infirmary a few days prior, we were stopped in our tracks by the unexpected sight of Dr Pebble-Mill indulging in a cheeky cigarette beside the bins. I hastily tried to act casual, whistling to myself and looking around like I’d lost my bearings slightly, the others behind me doing the same. To absolutely nobody’s surprise, the ruse fell instantly flat. He stubbed out his fag and strolled towards us, hands stuffed into the cavernous pockets of his white coat. Dr Pebble-Mill was, as Rodway had observed in his report on the Council members during our earlier spy-hunt reconnaissance, a decent man, having treated me with supreme kindness and dignity after I’d been hospitalised with a suspected severe stroke nine months earlier (eventually diagnosed as an allergy to Nice ’N’ Spicy Nik-Naks). He was a handsome chap in his mid-to-late fifties, with a thick mane of hair and a salt-and-pepper beard.

  ‘Morning, doc,’ I said. ‘Listen, I know how this looks, but if you’ll just give me two minutes to come up with something, I’m sure I can explain—’

  ‘Come off it, Kevin,’ he said. ‘You’ve been rumbled. Accept it. And Gillian – your dicky tummy has cleared up, I take it?’

  ‘Please, Andre,’ Gillian said, pushing to the front. She knew the doctor well from their time together serving on the Council. ‘Just allow us to explain what happened. It’s not what it seems, I assure you.’

  ‘You were using the hidden tunnel back there to exit the Compound,’ he said, with a sort of shrug. He must have registered our stunned faces then because he grinned. ‘What, you think I don’t know it’s there?’

  ‘So you’ve used the tunnel yourself?’ I asked. He shook his head.

  ‘No. To be honest, I thought the entrance had been sealed permanently shut when we built this place. Very industrious of you; I would never have thought of that.’

  ‘We’re not the spies,’ Gillian said. ‘Any of us. It’s nothing to do with that. Or, at least, not directly.’

  He held up his hands.

  ‘You don’t need to persuade me. You’re one of the few with any real compassion and heart on that Council, Gillian. You’re the last person I’d believe to be capable of such a thing. Don’t worry.’

  Gillian flushed bright red and smiled. She was absolutely made up with that. I myself felt happy for her, though also a little embarrassed. I had failed to see so much within Gillian for so long. That I had finally done so now was something, yes, but not enough. Not for my own sense of regret. I had doubted her, publicly, and yet she apparently bore me no ill will. That alone said everything about this woman. I was lucky to be able to call her my friend and I knew it, even if I didn’t say it.

  ‘I’m not the spy either,’ I said to Dr Pebble-Mill, fishing slightly.

  ‘I should imagine not,’ he agreed. ‘No offence intended, Kevin, but I think they’d recruit someone a bit more…’ he trailed off. Probably for the best.

  ‘So you won’t report us then?’ Gerry asked, very brazenly.

  ‘No,’ he said. ‘But I’d advise a little more caution in future if you plan any further jaunts out into the wilderness. Leigh will see you all hanged, I have no doubt. Tensions are running very high at the moment. I don’t wish to tell tales out of school, but I hear that the Alliance top brass at The Oracle are having serious qualms about Leigh’s handling of this whole spy business. They’re getting itchy feet and I fear he might be prone to lashing out at anyone who crosses him. Give him a wide berth, that’s my doctorly advice.’

  ‘I’ll tell you why he’s so highly strung,’ I said. ‘Guess what we saw this morning while we were—’

  Gillian elbowed me painfully in the ribs and shushed me.

  ‘Not until we’re sure,’ she muttered.

  Dr Pebble-Mill clocked all of this of course, but didn’t press for more. The man’s a class act.

  ‘What on earth were you doing out there anyway?’ he asked, scratching his beard. ‘Even with the turncoat running amok in the Compound, it’s a far safer place than anything you’ll find beyond these walls.’

  I gestured to Rodway to step forward. He was radiating health, though his clothes were tattered and muddy.

  ‘Hi,’ Rodway said, with an awkward wave.

  ‘This is Rodway,’ I explained. ‘My star striker. A flock of Winged Terrors swooped down and snatched him, right in front of our eyes.’

  ‘Ah yes,’ Dr Pebble-Mill said knowingly. ‘My new junior doctor. How are you finding it so far?’

  There was a hollow pause and Rodway glanced at me with faint panic in his eyes.

  ‘Oh, come now,’ Dr Pebble-Mill said with a small smile. ‘Did you honestly think you’d fooled me with that whole act? That fake ID badge you showed me was a bit of a giveaway – it was just your name and a drawing of a stick man on a Post-it note.’

  Rodway looked sheepishly at his feet.

  ‘I was just pleased to see you taking an interest in a new career,’ Dr Pebble-Mill went on. ‘I knew you were from the football team – I’m a season ticket holder; I never miss a game.’

  I was bursting with pride at this. I’d had no idea.

  ‘Surviving a run-in with those Winged Terrors, though,’ Dr Pebble-Mill puffed out his cheeks. ‘There aren’t many who can lay claim to something like that.’

  ‘It was awful,’ Gillian said.

  ‘Those things are a pestilence on this planet, they really are,’ Dr Pebble-Mill agreed.

  ‘Anyway, they took him alive,’ I said, ‘and… well, I couldn’t just leav
e the lad to die like that. It wouldn’t have been right. So we used the tunnel, slipped out of the Compound and retrieved him from right inside their nest. He was at death’s door; we weren’t a moment too soon.’

  Dr Pebble-Mill raised his eyebrows, looking genuinely impressed.

  ‘My goodness me,’ he said in awe. ‘I’m no expert on those dreadful things but I thought their nests were predominantly found over on Great Strombago.’ He paused – we looked back at him until he put two and two together. ‘You’re not serious? You’re telling me you all schlepped over to the volcano and pulled him alive from inside one of their nests?’

  ‘That about sums it up, yeah,’ I said with mock-bashfulness. ‘All in a day’s work, really.’

  ‘That was a brave and selfless thing for you to do. I… scarcely know what to say. It’s incredible that you’re all standing here in one piece.’

  ‘Listen, if you can survive being England boss, you can survive anything,’ I said. ‘There’s no weight of expectation anywhere in the galaxy greater than that. I mean, they were so disappointed in my tenure that they bulldozed the entire stadium as soon as I left. Rude, actually.’

  Dr Pebble-Mill stepped towards Rodway and squinted at him. He unhooked his stethoscope from around his neck.

  ‘Death’s door, you say?’ Dr Pebble-Mill said, almost to himself. ‘But I see barely a scratch on him…’

  I glanced at Gillian, who glanced at Gerry, who glanced at his fingernails. The subject was still off-limits for him.

  ‘Long story,’ I said eventually, as Dr Pebble-Mill proceeded to listen to an obliging Rodway’s heart and lungs and give him a superficial examination of the limbs, ears and eyes. ‘We met some tribespeople out in the wilderness there. They knew of a… er… a kind of miracle cure.’

  ‘Miraculous would be the word for it,’ Dr Pebble-Mill said in wonder. ‘This is most extraordinary, I have to say. I remember Mr Jones coming in for a minor knee operation earlier this year and yet as I look at him now… there’s no scar.’