by Scott Innes
‘Who’s Mr Jones?’ I asked, baffled.
‘That’s me, gaffer,’ Rodway said. ‘Rodway Jones.’
Damn.
‘Yeah, of course,’ I said. ‘Just messing and that.’
‘Anyway,’ Gillian said, trying to sound as casual as possible, ‘I guess we’d better get going, Andre. You’ve probably got a lot on your plate.’
‘I think this supersedes anything else I currently have on my roster,’ he said. ‘I’d like to admit Rodway immediately for observation. This is all most irregular and I’d like to study him to learn how this could be so.’
‘Ah, no,’ I said, ‘I don’t think that’s really necessary. Look at him – he’s fit and strong, raring to go. We don’t need to trouble you with this. It’s not important.’
‘On the contrary,’ Dr Pebble-Mill said, barely able to take his eyes off Rodway, ‘this could be of the utmost importance. I’d like to know more about this miracle cure you mentioned – it could have innumerable implications for healthcare here on Palangonia.’
‘Well, I mean…’ I began.
‘The Compound would be indebted to you all,’ Dr Pebble-Mill said. ‘And it’d be awful if they found out you’d been off honeymooning beyond the walls during the lockdown.’
I gasped.
‘You wouldn’t!’ I cried. He smiled.
‘Well, okay, of course not,’ he said. ‘But still: Rodway, would you consent to coming in? Just for a few days? If we could examine you, perhaps take a few blood samples, we could potentially learn so much.’
Rodway looked at me. I shrugged – it was beyond my purview now.
‘Sure,’ he said. ‘If you think it’d help.’
‘Great!’ Dr Pebble-Mill said. ‘Come on, I’ll get you signed in and find you a bed.’
He led Rodway enthusiastically by the arm. Then suddenly he paused and looked Barrington12 up and down, an expression of childlike fascination on his face.
‘Good heavens, I’ve not seen a 12-series in years!’ Dr Pebble-Mill said. ‘You know, I used to absolutely love putting these things together when I was a younger man. I’d often stay up all night – I even built my own Barrington50 once. It’s actually quite soothing work.’
‘Aye, well,’ I said, not the least bit interested. ‘We’d better let you get on. Cheers.’
Dr Pebble-Mill waved in a non-committal way and then vanished inside.
‘Well, if his tests determine that Rodway was healed by Gerry’s godlike powers then the doc deserves the Nobel prize,’ I said. I saw Gerry flinch in my peripheral vision.
‘Sorry,’ I said awkwardly. ‘But, Gerry… we do have to talk about—’
‘I’m going home,’ he said huffily.
Gerry stalked off, Barrington12 clunking painfully slowly after him.
‘Get him charged up before you turn in, Gerry,’ I said to his back.
‘Goodnight, Kevin,’ Gillian said. ‘And please, keep this Leigh business under your hat for now. We have to know for definite before we make our move. Anything less and we’ll blow it. Trust me.’
I nodded and, satisfied, she walked away. I exhaled deeply, puffing out my cheeks. A chilly midday breeze rattled my aching bones.
‘Hell of a damn adventure,’ I said to no one in particular.
A WAY OUT
‘It really is great of you to come and visit so often,’ Rodway said as we sat down a week later in the uncomfortable plastic chairs on opposite sides of his bed. He was wearing a gown and eating from a bowl of grapes. Outside his room, there was the usual bustle of a hospital ward: nurses and clerks at the desk, doctors doing rounds, a cleaner who had taken to calling me ‘Big Dog’ during each visit and always had his fly open. There had been a bit of hubbub when I’d popped by the previous evening as a patient came in with a swollen green head, spewing pus all over the place, and had been diagnosed with a severe, advanced case of approxial mylosia.
It was the first time I’d ever witnessed the disease up close and it was not pretty. It typically affected those who had recently undertaken deep space travel for the first time but there had been an increasing number of cases in patients who had been healthy for months, even for more than a year after arriving on Palangonia. I had lingered in the doorway of the poor man’s room as the medics dashed about trying to save him but once his legs exploded I decided to take my leave. To add insult to injury, I went to the vending machine for a Twirl after experiencing a strong sugar craving only to find it was out of order. I glanced back towards the patient’s room, the door now closed, and I felt a certain kinship – we were both having a rotten old evening and no mistake.
Now, the morning after, the hospital seemed mercifully quiet. I unfolded a newspaper and began to scan through it.
‘I assume they’re still no closer to finding out what happened to you, then?’ I asked Rodway – but Dr Pebble-Mill, who had suddenly appeared in the doorway, answered for him.
‘Not even close, I’m afraid,’ he said, scrutinising his clipboard and frowning. I hadn’t seen anyone look that confused since I watched Inception with Steven Taylor. ‘This really is a genuine mystery. I’ve been working overtime to try to get to the bottom of it all and I do have one or two theories I’m testing out but… well, as with anything of any importance, it requires time and patience. Neither of which are often abundant in a hospital environment, but I’ll keep plugging away.’
‘Oh well,’ I said. ‘You win some, you lose some. A lot like football, actually.’
‘Although sometimes you draw, Kev,’ Gerry chipped in.
‘Good point,’ I agreed.
‘Well,’ Dr Pebble-Mill said with equanimity, ‘at the end of it all, the most important thing is your own health. Rodway, you’re free to go. I’ll sign your discharge papers.’
I clapped my hands. ‘Excellent stuff.’
‘The tests we ran all came back completely normal, nothing out of the ordinary whatsoever. The strangest thing. The injuries he must have sustained… it’s utterly remarkable. As though God himself came down and touched you, healing your wounds.’
I shot a glance at Gerry, who looked panicked. I hastily forced a laugh.
‘Haha, imagine!’ I said, a little too exuberantly.
‘It really was a remarkably brave thing you did, Kevin,’ the doctor said, watching me thoughtfully. ‘Going out there to retrieve Rodway. I’ve rarely seen such valour.’
‘Oh, well,’ I said, feeling a little embarrassed, but also absolutely chuffed. ‘At the end of the day it was a group effort.’
‘The way Gillian tells it, she practically had to restrain you from leaping off her sixth-floor balcony when they took Rodway,’ Pebble-Mill went on.
‘Aw, cheers, gaffer,’ Rodway said, looking up from pulling his trousers on. ‘That’s lovely to hear. I’d do the same for you.’
‘I’ve got to head off shortly,’ Dr Pebble-Mill said. ‘Laika flew in from The Oracle first thing this morning – she’s convening an urgent Council meeting to discuss the spy problem. As I say, the Alliance are not at all happy with the way it’s being handled.’
Wow. That was huge – the equivalent of Man United bringing Sir Al out of retirement to weather a rocky spell. Leigh would be extremely embarrassed by it too, which was a bonus.
‘If you’ll bear with me for a moment,’ Dr Pebble-Mill said, ‘I just need to make a phone call.’
‘Aye, on you go, Doc,’ I said. ‘We’ll be out of your hair as soon as Rodway’s got his shoes on.’
‘Actually if you could just hang around,’ the doctor said mysteriously, ‘that’d be great.’
He left the room and his footsteps faded down the corridor.
‘What was that all about?’ Gerry asked.
We waited around for a few minutes but Pebble-Mill did not return, so I tucked my newspaper under my arm and stood up.
‘Let’s get off,’ I said. ‘I want to keep an eye on Leigh – I don’t feel comfortable with him out there, unmonitored.’
I’d been trying, in the days since we had returned, to keep an inconspicuous eye on the General. Obviously it was near impossible when he was within the walls of Fort Emmeline, but while he was out and about in the Compound – and he’d made a concerted effort to be a more visible preference during the current faffery, apparently vain enough to think residents might be reassured by the sight of him – I wanted to keep tabs as much as possible.
As we made our way down the hospital corridor, Dr Pebble-Mill appeared from a side room. He looked slightly disappointed that we’d headed off without waiting for him.
‘Oh… sorry,’ I mumbled. ‘I was just… looking for the loo.’
‘What, all of you?’ he asked, surprised.
‘We just drank loads of Ribena – it goes right through you,’ Gerry offered.
‘Look, the reason I wanted you to hang about a second is this,’ Dr Pebble-Mill said. He produced a crisp sheet of paper and passed it to me. ‘I had Laika’s approval to stamp it; I’ve just spoken to her now and she faxed it over. I didn’t tell her the details of your trip beyond the Compound walls of course, but just enough to emphasise your bravery. Even as a Council member, I couldn’t override Leigh’s order – but she could.’
I took the piece of paper and stared at the heading. DEPARTURE REQUEST 227/B99 and beneath that, the ‘APPROVED’ box had been stamped, with Laika’s signature (a single paw print) underneath.
‘What does it mean?’ I asked, utterly dumbfounded.
‘It means,’ Dr Pebble-Mill smiled, ‘that you can go. There’s a +1 on it if you want to take Gerry. I heard whispers that, after your football team was shut down, you had your eyes on another post elsewhere. David Moyes’ team or something like that.’
For a moment I wondered how he could possibly have known that, but then I remembered my arrest being reported in the Chronicle and how my defence (or ‘excuse’, as they’d labelled it) had also been included in the story. I was rather touched that the doctor had remembered.
‘It’s… very kind of you,’ I said. ‘Really it is. But unfortunately I read the other day that Moyesie got a win in midweek, so his job’s safe for a while longer.’
‘They played again yesterday,’ Dr Pebble-Mill said, tapping the paper still tucked under my arm. I pulled it out and flipped straight to the back page.
FIFKA WANDERERS IN TURMOIL – MOYES AXED AFTER 10–0 HAMMERING, CURBISHLEY AND KEEGAN IN FRAME.
‘Bloody hell,’ Gerry said. ‘With a decent shuttle, we could get to that nebula within a day, Kev. Maybe sooner.’
‘Why?’ I asked Dr Pebble-Mill. ‘Why me?’
‘Because you’re one of the good ones, Kevin,’ he said. ‘A brave man to whom this Compound should be indebted. You’ve proved that by saving this young man’s life.’ He clapped Rodway firmly on the shoulder. ‘The greatest reward I could imagine for your efforts would be for you to get off this sinking ship while you still can.’
I looked from the newspaper to the departure request form and felt utterly overwhelmed. It was there if I wanted it: an escape from Palangonia, with Gerry, to start afresh. To leave the Compound and General Leigh and the whole spy nonsense behind forever and to nip this Mullet God situation firmly in the bud. I could focus on more important things. On the one important thing: football.
‘It’s turning bad here, can’t you feel it?’ Dr Pebble-Mill said wistfully. ‘Take my advice. Go and never look back. And I’ll be cheering on your new team from afar.’
He left us alone then, turning to speak to one of the nurses at the reception desk about another patient. I looked at Gerry and Rodway, who watched me hopefully. A no-questions-asked way to leave the Compound, with Leigh powerless to do anything about it. Any number of people would give their right arm to obtain the piece of paper I was clutching tightly in my trembling hand. And thinking of precisely that, I made up my mind.
‘You’re going to use the form, aren’t you, Kev?’ Gerry asked hopefully. ‘I mean, you’d have to be crazy not to.’
I smiled sadly.
‘I guess I’m crazy, Gerry,’ I said and walked away.
A GOOD MAN
‘Right, keep them closed.’
‘Okay…’
‘Are they closed?’
‘Yes, I said they were, didn’t I?’
‘You’re peeking, aren’t you?!’
‘No! Kevin, what is this?’
I took my hands off Caroline’s shoulders and stepped back.
‘Right then… and… open!’
She blinked and stared around at the near-deserted shuttle bay. Ordinarily this place would have been a bustling hub of activity, people dashing to and fro, hurrying to either board or disembark from all manner of spacecraft – from small one-seater shuttles (like the one Leigh had concealed near the tunnel entrance) to hulking great Stargazers, enormous monstrosities that were predominantly used to ferry weapons and other large pieces of equipment around Alliance-occupied space. That evening, there was almost nothing. There was a skeleton crew of staff pottering around – one man in a high-vis jacket was just staring intently at the floor by his feet, away in a dream – and no incoming or outgoing air traffic. There were several grounded shuttles of varying size and class but all were sat there, lights off and motionless, like relics from an aviation museum. Caroline was nonplussed.
‘Why have you brought me here?’ she asked. ‘Wait – has the lockdown been lifted?’
‘Has it heck,’ I sniffed. ‘They couldn’t catch that spy if he was walking around in a mac taking photos of the General’s office. Clueless, the lot of them.’
‘So then, why…?’
I grinned.
‘Because I have something special,’ I said. I reached into my shirt pocket and produced a piece of folded paper, handing it to her. ‘Have a read of that,’ I said.
Clearly intrigued, Caroline unfolded the document and I watched with pride as her eyes scanned over the page. I could only imagine what she must have been thinking as the realisation set in.
‘Darcey Bussell, Richard Branson, Anne Robinson, Anneka Rice, Kriss Akabusi, Nelson Mandela, Roland Rat, Dame Diana Rigg and Eddie the Eagle. Kevin, what—’
‘Damn, sorry!’ I said in dismay, snatching the sheet of paper from her and stuffing it into my pocket. ‘That was just something I was working on this morning over breakfast – dream dinner party guests. No, it’s this – here you go…’
I handed Caroline another sheet of paper and this time I got the desired response. Her eyes lit up and she beamed at me.
‘Oh, Kevin,’ she said. ‘This is wonderful – however did you manage this? I could never have imagined General Leigh agreeing to this in a month of Sundays!’
‘He doesn’t know anything about it,’ I said gleefully. ‘And if he did, there’d be Jack Sprat he could do about it. This departure approval form has come from way over his head – look at the signature there at the bottom.’
‘Laika!’ said Caroline in astonishment. ‘My goodness! I’d heard whispers that she was in the Compound for some big meeting – you mean you’ve actually met her?’
‘Yep,’ I said, then thought about it some more. ‘Well, “no” is probably more accurate. But Dr Pebble-Mill put in a good word for me and she agreed to override Leigh’s order on my behalf. She’s an absolute corker, that one.’
‘This is fantastic,’ Caroline said, handing the paper back to me. ‘I really am so pleased. I think this could be a brilliant opportunity for you and Gerry to make a fresh start and continue your football careers. What can I say? I wish you only the best – I hope you’ll keep in touch.’
I frowned.
‘No, do you not…? Caroline – this is for you.’
I handed the form back to her; she took it reluctantly, looking completely bemused.
‘For me? What does that mean?’
‘It means I don’t want it,’ I replied. ‘Or, at least, I can’t take it. Not now, not with so much still up in the air. We’re close to finding the spy. Gerry, Gi
llian and me, we… have an idea who it might be. I can’t say anything,’ I added hurriedly as Caroline tried to interject, ‘but I think it’s only a matter of time. Whether we’ll be fast enough to stop the spy bringing the L’zuhl down on our heads is another matter altogether.’
‘Kevin, no,’ Caroline said, ‘you cannot forfeit an opportunity like this. And certainly not on my account – this your golden ticket, you must take it. You’d be insane not to.’
‘So they keep telling me,’ I said. ‘But my mind’s made up. I’ve already had a word with the shuttle bay supervisor on shift tonight; he was a regular at Palangonia FC and a Newcastle fan back in the day. It has a +1 but technically the form is strictly in my name; however, he’s agreed to turn a blind eye this once, purely out of the goodness of his heart, plus a cash bribe. Caroline, my place is here, for now. And… I dare say there are others who have a more just reason for wanting to get off Palangonia. I’m looking at one of them right now.’
Caroline looked dumbstruck. I smiled.
‘Go,’ I said. ‘Be with your sister.’
It was her sister, wasn’t it?
‘I don’t know what to say,’ she said, fighting back tears. ‘This is a monumentally kind gesture. You’re a good man.’
‘It’s only what any right-thinking person would do,’ I insisted selflessly.
‘Thank you, Kevin,’ Caroline said, leaning in and giving me a firm peck on the cheek. I felt myself blushing. ‘And Angela thanks you too.’
‘Who’s Angela?’ I asked, baffled.
‘My sister,’ she replied and laughed.
‘Right, yeah. Well, time waits for no one,’ I said, and nodded towards the shuttle bay.
‘I honestly cannot thank you enough for this gesture, Kevin. The galaxy is a dark and frightening place these days, but you’ve proved that there’s light out there. Hope for a brighter tomorrow.’
‘Nice one,’ I agreed, unable to quite replicate Caroline’s poetic way with words. I gave a small wave and walked away – turning away from an opportunity to escape this madness forever. I could only hope that I wouldn’t regret it.