The Mechanical Messiah (40 page)

‘You look after me so wonderfully,’ said Alice, a little later.

‘Well,’ said Cameron Bell, ‘it is the wish of most men to look after someone they 1—’

‘What is
that?’
asked Alice. Pointing as she did so. ‘I see trees and I see flowers,’ said Cameron. ‘And I lo—’ ‘Out there,’ said Alice. ‘Beyond those trees, but coming this way rather fast.’

Cameron stared, then said, ‘Oh no. A Venusian death patrol.’

ovian hunters were lumbering back to the spaceship. Some burdened, it appeared, by considerable mineral wealth, loaded into each pocket of their big safari suits. Some carried pith helmets stuffed with emeralds. All were once more making very good speed.

Major Tinker called to them to hurry as best they could.

‘They’ll scoop you up,’ the major called, ‘and that will be that for you.

The Venusian death patrol craft was not without interest. It somewhat resembled a fanciful castle with towers and dwindling spires, but was composed, it so appeared, of gossamer, soap-bubbles, thistledown and things of a fairyish nature. With no obvious means of propulsion, it drifted on a steady course, one bound for the
Marie Lloyd.
As dreamy and fey as this sky castle was, those aboard it dealt death.

The wonderful structure was suddenly overhead, lost amongst the leafy canopies of the towering Nabana trees. But then down in a manner silent but deadly came slender silver rods. Scarcely the width of a broom handle but terminating with a single eye-part, within a thrice-pronged claw.

Cameron Bell had steered Alice back into the spaceship. Major Tinker entered too, still calling to the Jovians to hurry as best they could. A slender silver rod, writhing snakelike, snatched at the Jovian last in the scurrying party. The three-pronged claw caught him hard by a leg, hauled him from his feet. As his companions rushed on towards the possible safety of the
Marie Lloyd,
he was swept up into the sky, to meet, all supposed, a very terrible end. Further rods came flashing down. Two more Jovians, calling for mercy, found themselves dragged skywards.

Only five of the original hunters now remained alive. And these five, once inside the spaceship, demanded the use of their ray guns to make a fight of it.

‘Too dangerous,’ cried Corporal Larkspur. ‘Breaching the hull with gunfire could spell doom. Bolt the door and take your seats, we depart this planet with alacrity.’

‘He’s making very good progress with his Queen’s English lessons,’ Darwin observed as the colonel fastened the seat belt around the monkey’s waist. ‘I really have not taken to Venus. I don’t think I’ll come back.’

An awful scratching, raking sound now put many teeth upon edge. Major Tinker, strapping himself in next to the colonel, said, ‘If they can get a purchase on the old
Marie Lloyd,
they’ll drag her back to one of their cities. Things won’t go well for us.’

‘We’ll make a damned good fight of it,’ quoth Colonel Katterfelto. ‘Corporal—’

Corporal Larkspur was heading for the cockpit. ‘I don’t have time to talk,’ he said.

‘And I don’t have time to die. Give me the key to this prang cannon jobbie. I’ll make short work of the blighters.’

‘Ah,’ went Corporal Larkspur. ‘About the ignition key.’

‘As chance would have it,’ said Cameron Bell, ‘I just found it on the floor. Perhaps you dropped it, Corporal.’

‘Perhaps.’ The corporal made a face of hatred. The spaceship shuddered as claws raked over its hull.

‘Come to think of it,’ said Colonel Katterfelto, ‘don’t quite see how this works. Need ignition key to get spaceship engine going, yes?’

‘Yes,’ went the corporal, looking most exasperated.

‘But need same key to work prang cannon. Or do you have two?’

The corporal examined the single key that he now held in his hand. Words of profanity rose from his lips, in perfectly formed Queen’s English.

‘I can pick the lock,’ said Cameron Bell. ‘Corporal, get us into space. Colonel, accompany me to the prang cannon.

‘Which is
where?’
asked Colonel Katterfelto.

‘Down that way. First on the right and up the stairs,’ shouted the corporal, now rather red in the face.

Darwin was starting to shiver with fear. Alice moved from her seat into that vacated by the colonel.

‘Might I sit here?’ she asked the monkey. ‘And perhaps hold your hand? I am rather afraid, you see.

Darwin looked up at Alice and smiled. And put out his small hairy hand.

There were now a hundred snaking silver rods curling over the
Marie Lloyd,
touching, sweeping, probing with evil caresses. The Martian hulk was once more rocking as, snapping like serpents, these sinister agents of doom sought to penetrate the hull.

Corporal Larkspur dropped into the pilot’s seat and keyed the ignition. The engines gave a kind of strangled cough, then went very silent indeed.

‘No,’ said Corporal Larkspur. ‘That is most unsatisfactory.’ He let the key spring back into place then turned it once again. A lesser cough issued and then a greater silence.

‘Oh no!’ cried Corporal Larkspur. ‘The battery’s flat. But it should have been good for weeks.’ A sudden thought entered the corporal’s mind. ‘It’s the magical time here,’ he said. ‘The magical time is to blame.’

There is sometimes comfort to be found in explanation.

This was not one of those sometimes.

‘We are doomed!’ cried Corporal Larkspur. ‘Doomed!’

Things were not going as well as they might have been in the armoured gun port that housed the prang cannon.

‘This one makes the seat go up, I think,’ went the major, harnessed into the firing seat and pushing a button to no response whatever.

‘“Thank you for choosing the

MARK FIVE PATENT PRANG CANNON.”‘

Cameron Bell was reading aloud from the instruction manual.

‘“The Mark Five supersedes the Mark Four, lessening the danger of severe radiation damage to the operator. Incidences of fatal static discharge to the operator are minimised by almost three per cent. Rubber boots and a hardy disposition are, however, recommended.

“‘Sterility may be avoided through the simple expedient of shielding the operator’s private regions by wearing the

MARK FIVE LEAD-LINED LONG JOHNS.

‘“Thank you for choosing the

MARK FIVE LEAD-LINED LONG JOHNS.

The Mark Fives supersede—

‘This might take a little time,’ said Cameron Bell.

But time, however, was
not
upon his side.

A horrible groaning sound accompanied by a sudden forward movement informed all aboard the
Marie Lloyd
that the ship was taking off. Not, though, by the power of its very own engines. The snaking silver rods had woven themselves into a kind of web about the hull and were dragging the helpless hulk into the sky.

‘Oooooh!’ went all who were not firmly strapped in. Cameron Bell amongst them.

‘Start, you *****!’ went Corporal Larkspur, frantically twisting the key.

In a great swinging arc, which avoided any damage at all to the mighty Nabana trees, the
Marie Lloyd
was drawn from its hiding place into the naked heavens.

Within there was madness and mayhem as, but for most of the passengers, absolutely nothing had been secured prior to this unscheduled take-off Food and furniture, beer bottles, brandy balloons, shoes and safari suits, servings of Treacle Sponge Bastard, each of these and so much more were all flung about within the spaceship.

Cameron Bell found himself catapulted from the armoured gun port and bounced down the central aisle between the ranks of passenger seats.

‘Come back, Balls,’ bawled the colonel. ‘Must I do everything myself?’

The
Marie Lloyd
was now some three thousand feet up in the bright blue sky. A beautiful cloudless sky today, had anyone sought to enjoy it. But within this captured spaceship most were consumed by terror. The engines clearly were not on the go and should the Venusians choose simply to release their captive from the silver cables that netted the ship, all aboard would surely die when it struck the valley floor.

That the Venusians had no such intentions might have been speculated upon. To them an object of blasphemy had been removed from the sacred valley of Efland. It and all it contained would be destroyed in the great furnace at Rimmer, which had been specially constructed for such purposes.

A letter of stern protest would be penned to the British ambassador. And the delivery of those little round chocolate sweets that he loved so much would be curtailed for a month, in punishment.

Darwin held tightly to Alice’s hand and wondered what dying was like. Since he had learned to speak the Queen’s English and to read and write also, Darwin had read many books. Amongst these the Bible. He had been greatly taken with the Old Testament. Especially all the animals going into Noah’s ark, two by two by two. But there had been a question nagging away at him and that was regarding souls. Men had souls, the Bible made clear, but what about the monkeys?

The swinging about of the spaceship made for upset stomachs, but there was a queer calm silence all around.

‘Alice,’ said Darwin, ‘might I ask you a question?’

‘Certainly,’ said Alice, who was shaking very much.

‘When we die in a minute,’ said Darwin, ‘will you take me to Heaven with you?’

Alice looked at the monkey and tears welled in her eyes.

Cameron Bell had tears in his eyes. But these were not from emotion. These tears were from a cheesecake that had struck him in the face. He was back on his feet now and at the cockpit door. Forcing his way in, he frowned at Corporal Larkspur.

‘Why have you not switched on the engines?’ he demanded to be told.

‘The battery is flat. Because of the difference in time. It would have been good for weeks under normal circumstances.’

‘Don’t you carry a spare?’

Corporal Larkspur glared at the private detective. ‘No, ‘said he. ‘I do not.’

‘Then improvise, man. Don’t you realise what peril we are in?’

‘Peril?’ said Corporal Larkspur, bitterly. ‘Oh, I thought we were all just going for a jolly joyride. You stupid *****!’

The two men looked hard at each other. Cameron Bell knew instinctively that only one of them would return to Earth alive.

The private detective drew out his ray gun.

‘Ah!’ cried Corporal Larkspur. ‘So now you show your hand.’

‘Out of the seat,’ shouted Cameron Bell, ‘and let me deal with this.’

‘You cannot pilot the ship,’ said Corporal Larkspur. ‘In fact no one can but I. If you wish to return in safety to Earth you would do well to offer me your protection.’

‘I only mean to get the engines started.’

The city of Rimmer, capital of the magical world of Magonia, sparkled on the horizon like the Emerald City of Oz. Romantic, beautiful, unearthly. This city was ancient, built before Mankind had first set foot upon the Earth. Here the mighty ones of old, whose epic adventures were now the myths of other worlds, had done their deeds and lived their lives of magic.

Sailing towards it in gossamer glory, the aether ship of the death patrol dragged the
Marie Lloyd.

The great furnaces were stoked, awaiting heretics to burn.

‘You don’t know what you are doing,’ complained Corporal Larkspur. ‘What
are
you doing, by the way?’

‘Connecting the charging cable from my ray gun to the ignition panel,’ explained Cameron Bell. ‘I pull it out from the stock, see? Then plug it into here, see?’

‘It is a
charging cable,’
said Corporal Larkspur, ‘for charging the ray gun. Not the other way round.’

‘Ah,’ said Cameron Bell. ‘But here is the beauty of it. If I make a small adjustment here to my ray gun— ‘Yes?’ went the puzzled Corporal Larkspur.