Authors: Oliver EADE
“What do I do
now?” she asked.
Mike! God!
Someone help me!
Gary jumped
up. Passing with his back to her for fear she’d object to his erection, he went
into the bathroom. No towel!
“Damn!” he
muttered as Beetie, right behind him, started to shiver through her giggles. He
searched the cupboards and finally found a large fluffy pink towel. He held
this out for Beetie to run into, and began to rub her dry; rubbed her all over
whilst she giggled and giggled. She allowed his hand to touch her smooth, warm
skin and, when dry, she stopped giggling and looked up at him in silent, loving
anticipation. He let the towel fall as rub became embrace, aware of his hands
exploring those contours of bliss as if they were now disconnected from him but
still sending messages to his brain more wonderful than anything he’d ever
dreamt possible.
He should
never have worried, he told himself afterwards. So easy, so natural… so
unbelievably beautiful! When he asked, she assured him he hadn’t her hurt at
all.
“Not one
little bit. You were so gentle,” she replied as they continued to fondle and
caress each other, both exhausted after such unbridled passion. Finally Gary
fell asleep, Beetie’s arm about his waist, her face, her eyes, her incredible
eyes, still there in his mind, her soft breathing like music to his ears.
He’d hoped for
pleasant dreams… at least
that
night. Not to be! His mind danced from
one nightmare to another, each worse than the last. Being eaten alive by
gee-rats was one of the better ones, but none were as bad as the reality of
waking up in bed alone, Beetie gone.
He sprang from
the bed and rushed to the bathroom. Empty! He hopped about as he struggled into
his jeans, only to discover the time-specs were missing from his pocket.
“Jesus Christ,
Beetie,” he swore, “what’ve you gone and done?”
On the way to
the door he checked the bags of clothes and the rucksack, for the girl’s top
and jeans lay strewn on the floor of the bathroom where she’d left them the
night before. The yellow and blue dress and the blue hair-band she’d been
wearing when he rescued her from the Hatcheries were missing, together with the
pair of high-heeled shoes he’d bought for her the previous day.
He ran down
the stairs, two at a time, and burst into the dining room. The B&B
proprietress hovered behind his mum and dad, about to serve their breakfast.
“BEETIE! SHE’S
GONE FROM OUR BED! WHERE THE HELL IS SHE? HAVE
YOU SEEN HER?” he yelled.
His mum turned
scarlet. She grinned sheepishly at the proprietress whose expression spelt
danger.
“What the…?”
the woman began.
“Same bed? Oh,
he gets these funny dreams. The girl’s probably gone for a walk,” suggested Mrs
O’Driscoll. She scowled and nudged Gary’s dad. “Have a word with Gary, for
God’s sake!” she whispered.
The man let
out a sigh and pushed his chair away from the table. Taking Gary by the arm he
ushered him from the dining room into the hallway.
“Not very clever,
Gary! The woman’ll go bananas if she thinks we let you and the girl spend the
night together. You’re supposed to be brother and sister! Remember?”
“Dad, she’s
bloody gone! Taken the time-specs. Gone back to
them
. Don’t you
understand what this means? Don’t you care?”
“Gary! Get a
grip! Look… we’d better go upstairs! Out of earshot.”
“No! Outside!
I’m gonna look for her… gotta find her.”
Gary’s dad
followed him out of the front door, along the path to the pavement. The boy
scanned the street in both directions. Not a soul! A typical quiet Sunday
morning!
“BEETIE!
BEETIE!” he shouted... over and over and over again.
She was gone.
He checked his pockets, in case he’d been wrong about the specs, in case he’d
missed them with his first frenzied fumbling. No specs, but his fingers touched
a crumpled piece of paper. He
never
put bits of paper in his pocket. He
opened it out and stared at the girlish writing:
‘
The first
time had to be with someone I love, Gary. I’ll never, never forget you. I’ve
had my happiness and the rest I’ll put up with till I die so Mike can come
back. He’s someone’s son, Gary. Please remember this... and forgive me. I love
you so much, Beetie.
’
“NO!” Gary
shrieked, screwing up the paper and throwing it to the ground. “NO, NO, NO!”
His father
retrieved the paper and read the message several times over. He rested his arm
across his son’s shoulders, and Gary turned to the man and gave him the hug
he’d so wanted to give the night before as he fought against tears with anger.
“Gary, what
happened to the weird green tracksuit you had on before?”
Gary frowned.
Of
course. The tracksuit!
His only link with the future… and with Beetie.
“Why?”
“On the radio
news this morning. A down-and-out landed up in hospital last night. The Royal
Free. He was found unconscious on the Heath wearing an identical tracksuit.
He’d been stabbed…”
His dad’s
words cut through Gary like a knife.
“Jesus!”
“Gary…
whatever’s happening, remember you’re still a Catholic!”
“But… but they
thought that was me. Oh God… it’s all my fault… my stupid bloody plans again!
If only Mike were here! Dad, it’s safe for you and Mum to go home now. I’ve
gotta visit this guy in the Royal Free right away.”
“Gary…
please
come back with us. Drop this whole thing, can’t you? Mum’s beside herself with
worry.”
“NEVER!”
You stupid
prick, Gary. Shouldn’t shout at Dad like that… and you’re gonna have to get
lessons in bullshitting from Mike
,
too!
Later, at the
hospital, a nurse blocked his way and said he couldn’t possibly visit a certain
Seamus O’Malley lying unconscious in the High Dependency Unit.
“I’m a very
old friend,” insisted Gary.
“Bit young for
a ‘very old friend’, aren’t you? Anyway, the police are coming back some time.
They need to question him about the robbery at the British Museum when he recovers.
Seems he’s involved. They think he must’ve handed over that stolen ancient
tablet thing to a third party who tried to kill him to break the link.”
“That’s the
point! I’ve got his clothes here. Forensics might be interested.”
“I’ll take
them... oh… wait…!” Gary was holding the bag open in front of the woman. She
cupped her hand to her nose and stepped backwards. “Okay! Be quick! Before the
doctor does his round.”
Gary
sat at the Irishman’s bedside in the High Dependency Unit, staring at the spiky
tracing moving across the monitor screen. A hand reached up and tapped on his
shoulder.
“Holy Father,
if it isn’t de little green man his self! Tell me, Gary, where’s de Holy
Virgin?”
Gary’s heart
wobbled like the monitor tracing. He stared at the pale, clean-shaven face
peering up at him from under a pair of thick eyebrows.
“That’s the
trouble, Seamus. I need your help.”
“Hell! It’s
her
! The girl
who was running towards Gary when I got zapped in the Hatcheries,” Mike
whispered to Cathy. “Beetie… or Belinda. Whatever!”
Cathy, too,
peered down.
“Belinda!” she
agreed. “The Chairman’s girl.”
“She’s not
with the Chairman now!”
A bespectacled
old man with an untidy mop of white hair and a bushy white beard was holding the
terrified girl by the arm.
“I don’t like
this one bit… and
there’s
another old chum of ours!” Blinker, his face
bruised, stepped forward into a space opening up in front of Beetie and God
whilst surfacers were roughly pushed out of the way by three snappy Atlanteans.
“Blinker not
dead? Well I never! Anyway we got
’er
back at last, the stupid bitch.
’Spect that little shit who stole ’er ’as been turned into rat turd already for
wastin’ our time like this! And who on earth are
you
, ya ’airy old git?”
The Atlantean
prodded God in the belly, fixing his evil eyes on the old man’s inscrutable
face.
“Allow me to
introduce God,” explained Blinker. “Thanks for returning my sister, God. What a
naughty little girl she’s been holding us all back like this!”
“
You
?
Watcha mean ‘’oldin’
us
back’? So where d’ya fink yer
goin’ to,
ya arse’ole?”
“Far from
here, Zogor...
very
far from here!”
The Atlantean
reached for his mag-stunner, but Blinker was too quick for him. He punched the
little blighter in the face, causing him to stumble, and snatched the
mag-stunner. The other big-heads backed away, uncertain.
“So, where’s
the Chairman, now?” he asked. “Need to find out before we suck out your own
Life-Force, God.
Ex
-God, I should say! Might give us a little extra
boost, ay… the old God’s own Life-Force?”
“Zaman? Oh,
he’s still looking for her in the past.”
“Well, go and
get him! Meanwhile I’ll sort out my naughty little sister. Very soon she’ll be
his, and good luck to him.
I’ll
take the cute little one with black hair
and a white dress whilst you become fuel for the Belindaron to help us on our
way to Paradise Planet! Funny when you think
you
were the one who
started the whole enterprise. You even thought up that silly term ‘Civilisation
Transference’, as our Chairman says you used to call the whole exercise. What
big words, huh? Boy, I just can’t believe
you
were ever Chairman! They
must have been desperate in the old days.”
“Beetie can
never be his!”
“Oh, is
someone gonna fight over her, then? Gary? He’s dead, isn’t he? Oh, of course!
It’s why you’re here. They killed Gary and you tried to get my sister for
yourself, using those specs of yours. Grabbed her, but forgot to readjust them
you were in such a hurry, and, hey presto, here you are! Good one!”
“Wrong! We
came for Mike. The Chairman expected you to keep him alive, whatever he said to
you. I know how
he
thinks. We used to be friends. Beetie for Mike then?”
“Mike? Oh, you
should’ve seen him struggle as his Life-Force got sucked out. Bit tough he was
when we started cutting him up, though. Must be all that ball kicking he gets
up to!”
“I don’t
believe you. Even
you
wouldn’t be that stupid, Blinker.”
“Believe what
you like, you old waster. Makes no odds to me.”
Blinker walked
up to Beetie.
“So, what are
we gonna do with
you
, my dear sister?”
Beetie’s large
blue eyes narrowed. She spat in his face.
“I hate you,
you traitor!” she replied. “And they haven’t killed Gary. He’s far too smart
for them. Smarter than any of you. You wait! I’ll… I’ll… make sure the Chairman
sorts
you
out, stupid little brother!”
“Oh, I’m so
scared,” mocked Blinker. “Trouble is you’re not in a particularly good position
to make sure of anything. I’ll soon have
you
begging for mercy!”
He ran his fingers
through her blond hair with mock gentleness, before gripping her hair-band and
yanking this free with a violent twist of the wrist.
“OW!” Beetie
cried, cupping her hands over her smarting scalp. “You’re an animal!”
Blinker
grabbed the girl’s arms, pulling them downwards. Beetie twisted and struggled,
and tried to kick her brother’s shins, but in vain. He was too strong, and soon
he had her wrists bound together behind her back.
“I’m sure the
Chairman will think up a fitting punishment for his girl for running off! Mind
you, if left to me, I’d hand you over to the gee-rats as a little treat before
they disappear with the rest of London. I still can’t think why he’s the
slightest bit interested in you.” He spat back in her face. “Put her in the
Belindaron, someone! Away from the other girls. Don’t want to contaminate
them.”
Blinker pushed
Beetie into the bulging arms of a waiting heavy.
“I’ll tell the
Chairman how you tried to climb into my bunk in the Retreat, Blinker! How I fought
you off! No girl would
ever
want you anywhere near her.
I
should
know!”
Blinker
stepped forward, gripped her by the chin and yanked her face level with his
forcing her up onto tip-toes. For a few moments he only seemed able to blink in
impotent fury before letting his hand drop with disgust.
“Flog her!” he
commanded.
“You wouldn’t
dare!”
“Flog her in
front of all the other girls till she begs for my forgiveness. And when she
does, tell her… ‘sorry, Blinker doesn’t do forgiveness!’ Ha ha! Only keep her
alive enough for the Chairman to decide on her final punishment!”
Beetie looked
pleadingly at God, hoping for a miracle.
“I told you,
pretty one! That old guy’s a walking corpse, and your little friend from the
past’s already dead meat!” teased Blinker.
Mike watched
these goings-on as he lay stretched out on the broad tube with Cathy beside
him. The girl’s presence made him feel brave. He wished to show her he was no
chicken… but, knowing what happened in the grey building, he decided to hold
onto his Life-Force a little longer, until…
“ZAMAN!”
God’s deep
voice bellowed out as the heavy dragged a reluctant Beetie in the direction of
a stepped ramp leading up to the oval door of the giant craft. Mike craned his
neck. Teeth and Arthry stood below them having materialised from nowhere. The
Atlantean appeared tiny beside the large black man, and Mike was tempted to
call out to Arthry and suggest he shove the little wanker in his pocket. Common
sense got the better of him, and he placed a hand over Cathy’s mouth in case
she should start to go on about ‘windows’ again.
He was
definitely warming to the girl. From the way she looked at him he was pretty
certain she felt the same about him. If only his lips could come into contact
with her sweet mouth…not his fingers! In fact, the more he thought about the
girl the less the appeal of Veronica despite the redhead’s fantastic legs.
“My old friend
God! Been such a long time, eh? Suppose I must thank you for delivering Belinda
to me. Always thought you’d come to your senses in time. So you want that
little waster, Mike, in exchange for my girl… right?” Blinker coughed with
embarrassment. “Blinker promised me he’d look after him for you… but he so
loves playing games.”
“Sir?”
“
I
taught
him to say that.
Sir
! Could never get my Belinda to say ‘sir’, when she
was a young girl in the Hatcheries. Pleased to see you’ve tamed her, Blinker.
Can’t have her running away like that again. So… hand Mike back and let my
friend go!”
“He… Mike,
sir… he, well… he offered himself up. Yeah! Donated his Life-Force to your
cause. After a little persuasion... and what you said, sir. Kind of ran amok
first, slashing through the Life-Force tubes in the Hatcheries. So keen he
started crawling along the main pipe to get to the Belindaron himself. I decided
to make things easier for him.”
The Atlantean
shrugged his small shoulders.
“So! Seems
we’ve no more need for
you
, my old friend!’
He turned and
winked at Beetie.
“KILL HIM!” he
shouted.
A heavy armed
with a spear stepped forwards and aimed his weapon at God.
“STOP!” Beetie
screamed just as another Atlantean appeared at the open door of the Belindaron.
The little fellow shouted to Teeth: “WAIT!” He scurried down the steps past
Beetie.
“Okay! I’ll
wait… like the man asks. Always obliging! Give God another few seconds on
earth. In his beloved London.”
Teeth folded
his arms and tapped the ground impatiently with one foot. The big-headed minion
trotted up to his leader and whispered in his ear. The Chairman glanced over
his shoulder at God.
“Seems you’ve got
yourself a short reprieve… if that celebrated brain of yours can come up with a
solution.” The heavy with the spear backed away. “It doesn’t work! Our chief
engineer says your little toy here’s not working! To think we followed your
design to the letter! Something wrong with the Life-Force injector, he thinks.
Not your design, I hope! If that, well, what I plan for Belinda will be nothing
compared with what I’m gonna do to you. If you’ve made a monkey of me all
along, a spear through the heart is far too pleasant a death.”
“You just
wouldn’t listen to me when we were friends, Zaman. Didn’t even believe what I
told you about the imminent destruction of Atlantis until I took you forwards
and showed you. I always said extracting Life-Force from ‘volunteers’, as you
used to call those poor people, wouldn’t give you a high enough concentration
of energy to drive the Belindaron. You know, it’s extraordinary you never once
asked me how the time-specs work!”
Teeth glowered
at the old man. Above anything else, he hated to be made a fool of in public.
“Been busy in
the past quietly getting on with my project!” continued God. “Civilisation
Transference. The
important
part. Learning how to trap and convert dark
energy from the space all around us. We’ve entered a whole new era of physics,
Zaman. After you lot are extinct again, turning into fossils entombed in a
flooded London on a dead planet, we’ll be light centuries away.
We’re
the ones who’ll start afresh.”
“Aren’t you
forgetting something, God?”
“Beetie? Yes, she’s
your one bargaining point. Beetie! I’ll do anything for the girl. So I’ll be
back. In a flash… because you’ve very little time left. The tectonic plates are
more unstable than I thought. Only promise me you won’t harm her if you want to
live a little longer!”
“
Harm
the
girl? My own sweet love? Whatever can you be thinking of, God?”
“Blinker and
his bullies? Threatening to flog her?”
“A flogging’s
not
harming
her! Only teaching her a lesson for running away. Right,
Blinker?”
“Sir!”
“So well
trained, eh? No, when she’s learned her lesson I’ll be so kind to my dearest
love. I’ll give her what she’s been dying for ever since our times together in
the Hatcheries. She’ll be
mine
! My very own Belinda. Forever!”
“You’re wrong,
Zaman. She’s mine
already! Carrying my child!”
In the deathly
silence that followed God’s announcement an almost touchable shock filled the
hall. Teeth went rigid, momentarily struck dumb, but Mike’s reaction changed
everything. The thought of the dirty old man below impregnating his best
friend’s girl was too much to bear.
“YOU FILTHY
OLD BASTARD!” he screamed from his lofty perch. In a flap of fury he wobbled
and slipped, landing on top of Teeth and pinning the Atlantean to the ground.
Something shaped like a large eye sparkled as it shot from the spread-eagled
little man’s hand. Mike grabbed it before Teeth could retrieve the spectacles
case, snapped it open, took out the time-specs and jumped back up.
“Doesn’t look
dead to me!” exclaimed God.
“I’ll kill you
myself,” threatened Mike. “She’s Gary’s girl. He’s mad about her.”
“MIKE…
IS THAT YOU?” Beetie called from the steps of the ramp.
“Bloody well
is! And if you’ve been leading my mate up the garden path, you little cow,
I’ll…”
“MIKE,
IT’S NOT HOW YOU THINK IT IS! I LOVE GARY!
HE KNOWS I DO.” But the look Beetie gave God said it all as far as Mike was
concerned; just cheap trash for glad-eyeing a spent old geezer. “HE’S…” she
began, but was cut short by a scream as Cathy, too, fell. The girl’s wide white
dress billowed like a parachute about her waist and Mike’s mouth fell open with
approval at what was revealed as she dropped. Arthry caught her and let her
down with surprising gentleness.
“Wow, Cathy!”
Mike exclaimed. “They’re better than Veronica’s.”
“WATCH OUT FOR
THE WINDOWS!” Cathy shouted.
Mike caught
sight of Blinker staring greedily her.
“No you bloody
don’t,” he cried, before running at Blinker and launching a kick at the boy’s
groin. “She’s
my
girl! Like I thought Beetie was Gary’s.”
“URGH!” yelped
Blinker, his knees buckling whilst his hands frantically clutched at his
wounded manhood.
“
You’re
gonna
pay for this, you old shit!” Mike barked at God.
What happened
next was so quick neither God nor Beetie could stop Mike. He pulled Cathy free
from Arthry, held the girl firmly, made a quick adjustment to the time-specs
before putting them on and together they vanished. Teeth struggled to his feet.
He grabbed the groaning Blinker by the throat and shook him until the boy
turned a funny shade of blue and made a noise like a frog croaking inwards as
he fought for air. Finally, Teeth let go, and Blinker dropped, gasping, to the
floor.