by Hatchett
After half an hour of silence, bar the chomping of food and slurping of drinks, the fat man had built up a bit of Dutch courage. He burped and patted his stomach and decided to ask a few questions.
“It was you lot who caused all the mayhem on the A3 earlier?” He still didn’t look around but spoke as if he was talking to the windscreen. Anyone seeing him from outside the van would assume he was talking to himself or singing along to the radio.
“It was,” Mason replied, deciding that it would break the boredom by baiting this snivelling excuse for a human.
The fat man thought about it for a few moments then asked, “I get it. You’re ‘lying low’. So, what are you planning to do next?”
“None of your business.”
“How can you speak English?”
“Years of learning.”
“How long have you been here?”
“Years.”
“So, how come no one’s noticed you before now? You’d be hard to miss.”
“We take over human bodies.”
The fat man drew in a sharp breath and it was some minutes before he plucked up the courage to speak again.
“But you promised you would let me go unharmed.”
“I did.”
“But, do you keep your promises?”
“Sometimes.”
The fat man lapsed back into silence, lost in his own thoughts and wondering if there was any way he could do a runner and get away from them. He didn’t fancy his chances, especially after hearing what had happened on the radio and having seen first hand their silver ball punching holes in his van as if it was nothing more than a piece of paper. The fucking van! It probably looked like one of those World War I trucks with little holes down the side for poking your rifle out. He’d seen that on ‘Dad’s Army’ on the TV years ago. His bosses would go mental and how would he explain it? ‘I just gave a few aliens a lift and they decided to improve the ventilation’. They’d take the cost of the repairs out of his wages and probably sack him. What the fuck was he thinking about? He might not even get out of this alive, never mind the crappy van or his crappy job!
Once it was dark and the streetlights had switched on, Mason felt the time was right to move on to the next stage of his plan.
“Right, let’s go.” Mason ordered.
The fat man looked over his shoulder, thinking his luck might be in and these aliens would just disappear out the back of the van. No such luck.
“Come on, start it up!” Mason ordered more loudly.
The fat man quickly turned back and started the engine. “Where are we going?” he asked.
“I’ll give you directions.”
Mason directed the fat man to drive towards and across Westminster Bridge. The fat man was feeling the effects of the beer he had been quaffing and was struggling to keep the van in its lane and avoid getting too close to other traffic; not easy in the middle of London at the best of times. He began to get really concerned as they crossed Westminster Bridge; he could see Big Ben and the Houses of Parliament across the water and thought back to a terrorist incident a little while back. He didn’t want to be part of any such attack and didn’t want to die at the hands of the police marksmen but considering what was in the back of his van he didn’t see that he had much choice in the matter.
His relief was palpable when he was ordered to turn right into Parliament Street, away from the Houses of Parliament. The road became Whitehall and he was ordered to turn right into Richmond Terrace, but there were bollards everywhere, so had no choice but to keep going. In the end he turned right into Horse Guards Avenue heading back towards the river. After the traffic lights at the end had changed from red to green, he turned right again onto Victoria Embankment, hoping to get into Richmond Terrace from the Southern end. He pulled in but was met after twenty metres or so by a set of gates.
“I can’t get in there,” he said. “It’s a gated road and has guards.”
“Leave that to us,” Mason ordered. He nodded to one of his stormtroopers who fumbled around in one of his pockets before withdrawing a couple of small metallic objects, one in the shape of a stellated cube about three centimetres across and the other an ellipsoid about the same length. The Laakuu ran a claw along each device until they lit up with a feint bluish hue, whereupon he placed them on his palm offered them towards one of the holes made earlier by the Orb. The two devices rose from the palm of his hand and moved through the hole before speeding away towards the gate and the gatehouse next to it.
The Laakuu put their helmets back on and closed the visors. On the inside of the visor they saw what the stellated cube and ellipsoid were seeing.
The cube hovered just outside the guardhouse, scanning the insides. As it did so, the ellipsoid entered the guardhouse through an open window and located the guard sitting on the chair in front of a panel of monitors and switches. One end of the Ellipsoid peeled back and shot a tiny dart into the guard’s neck, before closing back up and speeding back to the van.
The guard felt a small inch and scratched his neck. He then noticed that a van had pulled up to the gates. He saw himself reach forward and press the button to open the gates, confused as to why he was doing it. The van moved into Richmond Terrace and the guard closed the gate behind it.
The fat man drove towards the far end of Richmond Terrace, looking to park up as close to Whitehall as possible, just as he’d been ordered to do. He passed lots of expensive luxury cars, the van looking a little out of place in such esteemed company but managed to find a spot a few metres from the end. He pulled in and turned off the engine. He had no idea exactly where he was, why this road had been chosen nor what was going to happen next.
In the back of the van, the Laakuu continued monitoring the pictures on the inside of their visors as the stellated cube moved along next to the van then continued straight across Whitehall, narrowly missing a collision with one of the huge London Buses, and then into Downing Street.
Mason noted the number of armed police guarding the gates which blocked off Downing Street, then the number of police outside the door to Number Ten. The security was laughable. If he wanted, he could just send a similar device to the cube to wipe out every human in the building, but where was the fun in that. He wanted to be there and take an active role in their destruction.
The cube roved all over the street allowing them to check everything out before moving back to focus on the house itself. Once it had checked the front, it rose into the air and crossed the roof to check the rear. Mason had been looking for an open window or door so that the cube could venture inside the building without being detected. Unfortunately for them, there was no such opening.
Mason was annoyed. The cube had the ability to separate into much smaller components and continue to display the same pictures from wherever each piece happened to go. But this wasn’t much use if even the smaller pieces couldn’t find access to the building. He considered other possible access points such as the sewers or air conditioning units but that would all take time, and frankly, he couldn’t be bothered. He wanted to get it on, sooner rather than later. He considered just smashing a piece of the cube through one of the windows, but this was bound to cause alarms to go off and he didn’t want to give the humans inside any inkling of what was coming.
“Fuck it,” Mason said, “Let’s go! Shields up.” With that, he moved to the back of the van and opened the doors. The seven of them jumped down and started walking in the direction of Downing Street. The fat man took his opportunity and jumped out of the van and started running as fast as he could, which wasn’t very fast, in the opposite direction, back towards the guardhouse. Mason noticed him go and pondered whether to send a disc in the fat man’s direction but decided that he had bigger fish to fry and let him go.
As they approached the end of Richmond Terrace, the Laakuu took out orbs and rods. They released the orbs which took off towards vehicles moving up and down Whitehall and it took only a few seconds to create a pile up and bring
the traffic to a standstill. Humans who weren’t injured were getting out of their vehicles and screaming at one another. The Laakuu spread out and walked across Whitehall as if nothing had happened, moving silently past steaming cars and vans and watching as humans jumped quickly out of their way. A cacophony of horns started up further down each side of the street, impatient humans wondering what the hold-up was all about and wanting to get on with their journey.
One of the Laakuu was about to release an Ellipsoid with the intention of controlling the police guards around Downing Street and get them to shoot each other, but Mason instructed him to stop. It would be too easy and where was the fun in that? He extended his rod, both ends like sharpened stakes and strode towards the nearest police officer.
The police officer spotted the huge figure in riot gear approaching and ordered him to halt, bringing up his weapon to back up his order. Mason didn’t even hesitate but kept on coming so the police officer offered one more warning before he opened fire.
The bullets bounced off Mason’s force field and he continued his unerring approach. The police officer turned and ran back in the direction of Number Ten, his colleagues in hot pursuit, leaving no one at the gates. Mason considered launching his rod at the retreating figures, but again, that would be too easy, like squashing ants. He wanted this to be up close and personal.
Mason and his stormtroopers converged on the gates into Downing Street, oblivious to the destruction in the road right behind them. Mason released an orb which breezed through the locks on the gates and he pushed them slowly open before retrieving the orb.
“Time to party,” he whispered under his breath as he strode forwards, the others following and the stellated cube still hovering above their heads. They reached the entrance to Number Ten and found the door wide open. Mason didn’t expect this but figured the cops had forgotten to close it in their haste to get away or to get close to the PM as fast as possible. To be on the safe side, he directed the stellated cube through the door so he could see if there was anyone waiting for them, not that he was in any way concerned.
He couldn’t see anything on the small screens on the inside of his visor, so Mason walked into the entrance and called out, “Samanthaaa, Mason’s here to see you. Or should I say ‘Robert? Come out, come out, wherever you are!” He walked into he reception area, closely followed by his colleagues. There appeared to be no one around and there were no noises, save for the muted sounds still coming from the direction of Whitehall.
Mason was about to direct the stellated cube to split into smaller versions and search the house for occupants but before he could do so, the floor, ceiling and every wall in the room was bathed in a blue glow.
Mason realised what was happening and turned all around to see if there was any escape route, but the wall of blue was constant and unyielding wherever he looked. A bloody containment unit! Where the hell did that come from? He’d been so sure of his own invincibility and supremacy against the puny humans that he hadn’t even considered that his own technology might be used against him. He couldn’t understand where they had got it from or how they knew how to use it.
He screamed in frustration as the blue transparent curtain of light detached itself from the walls and ceiling and slowly moved towards the group of Laakuu near the centre, the cuboid continually reducing in size until it stopped around thirty centimetres from them. Then it crept closer, forcing those inside to squeeze closer together. Once they were all squashed next to each other the cuboid stopped moving and was around two metres wide by two metres deep and two point five metres high. The tallest of the Laakuu at just over eight feet tall had no option but to lean forwards slightly.
The lights came on in the room and Harry, John, Robert, Jason, Andy and Joshua entered, with the PM and her bodyguards following close behind.
Mason spotted Joshua and sneered, his sharp teeth on display. “Now it all makes sense. The weakest of the weak working hand in hand with the enemy.”
“Mason, my dear fellow,” Joshua replied with a smile on his face, “we can’t have Laakuu like you representing our species. After all, we are here in peace, and had I been in charge down here, we wouldn’t be in this situation.”
“No, we’d still be giving bed baths and clearing up shit if it was left to you!” Mason shrieked at him. “You are nothing but a two-timing worm, Joshua, and you will pay for that.”
“I would be more concerned about your own situation if I were you,” Joshua taunted. “There’s a Council waiting to determine your future, a very short one in all likelihood.”
Joshua placed his palm against the transparent blue wall of the cuboid and after a few seconds, all the metallic devices like the rods, discs, orbs, ellipsoids and stellated cubes rose up and hovered in mid-air before slowly moving towards Joshua. They reached the wall of the cuboid and passed straight through with just a small rippling of the blue light before continuing their journey and collecting on a side table sitting against the wall.
In frustration, Mason grabbed at one of the floating rods and tried to force it to expand, but nothing happened. Mason continued to hold on to the rod and tried to pull it back, but it was inexorably drawn towards the cuboid’s wall and slipped out of Mason’s claws and out to join the other devices.
Mason bellowed in frustration, causing the lights to blink and the windows to shake. Joshua quickly lent forward again to press his palm against the blue wall of the cuboid and immediately all sound from within was cut off.
“Never did like listening to him,” Joshua commented.
The Prime Minister nodded to her bodyguards and they immediately set about their pre-agreed tasks. While she went back to her main office, followed by Harry, John, Robert, Jason and Andy, the bodyguards admitted some members of MI5 to the room and they quickly loaded the alien devices into a metal container, secured Joshua and led him away.
The bodyguards then kept a close eye on the blue cuboid and the angry aliens contained within. They would stay here until arrangements could be made for them to be picked up and taken off the planet.
44
Once in her office, Samantha indicated that her guests should take a seat and offered them a drink.
“Well, that was interesting,” she commented as she poured out some brandies.
“That’s one way of putting it,” Robert confirmed. “I’m just pleased it all went off without a hitch, but you really shouldn’t have put yourself in such danger. What would have happened if Joshua hadn’t done as we had planned, or something went wrong?”
“Then we’d have found another way to sort it out or I probably wouldn’t be here talking to you now. I’d like to thank you all for what you’ve done,” she said, raising her glass in a toast before taking a sip and slumping down into her seat.
“We didn’t have time earlier,” Harry noted, “but what made you change you mind and start believing us?”
“Well, I already knew that there were aliens, not a very well-kept secret I’m afraid, but we had no idea whether there was one alien race or many, when they were here or what they were doing. To find out they have been living under our noses in plain sight for decades was a real shock to the system, I can tell you! Obviously, I was still a little sceptical after hearing your story. Who wouldn’t be? But when the MI5 team I sent down to Ewhurst confirmed everything you had said about the equipment and considering my Right Honourable friend here’s testimony, it was clear that I had to take notice. The rest, as they say, is history. However, I would like to know more about this Underground group.”
“Perhaps another time,” Harry replied, deflecting the question. “I expect you have a lot to be getting on with, not least making contact with the Council of Elders up there on the Mothership,” he said, nodding towards the main communicator sitting on the PM’s desk. “Rob can show you how it works,” Harry explained.
“Yes, I guess I’m going to be having some interesting discussions with the Council and other world leaders over the next few days. By the
way, when do I get to meet the special young lady?” the PM enquired.
“I’m sure we can arrange something soon,” Harry replied vaguely, getting to his feet, “but I think it’s time we were getting back. Too much excitement for one day.”
“I’ll organise some transport,” the PM said, picking up her phone and making a couple of requests. She replaced the receiver and stood up to shake hands with Harry, John, Jason and Andy before they left the room.
45
The helicopter landed on the lawn at Foxton Hall and Harry, John, Jason and Andy jumped down and moved away before it took off again and headed back in the direction of London.
The four of them walked across the lawn towards the house where the rest of their group were waiting to welcome them back.
After all the hugs, kisses, back slapping and handshakes, they all went into the sitting room and helped themselves to food and drinks which had been laid out in readiness of their return. Then they took seats and explained what had happened up in London.
“SO, WHAT’S NEXT?” Jess asked.
There was a long pause before Harry spoke. “The Underground will disappear into the shadows once again and we’ll all go on as normal and watch with interest what happens with the Laakuu.”
“We’ll find you the best medical care we can find to help with your already amazing progress,” John said.
“I DON’T WANT TO BECOME A GUINEA PIG.”
“Good heavens, no, Jess. Purely for your physical conditioning,” Paula pointed out. “We won’t let anyone mess with you, we promise.”
“THEY WOULDN’T BE ABLE TO ANYWAY.”
This brought a smile to everyone’s face. No one disputed that that would be the case.
“We’ve got to go,” Sam said, as he, Pete and Jimmy stood up. “We’ve got a shop to run, assuming of course that there hasn’t been any serious damage. Keep in touch.” They left the room and took one of the vans back home to Mitcham.
“We’re off too,” Jason said as he and Andy stood. “Do you want a lift, Harrys’?”
