by JJ Green
“And now they have arrived here on Earth, instilling terror and panic. Why they have come, no one knows. Their behaviour indicates their motives are malevolent. Perhaps they have decided to give up their nomadic lifestyle and settle in one place. Your planet has many attractive features, despite the depredations of humans.”
“Can’t the Unity just round them up and force them to leave?” asked Dave.
“That is the problem. We cannot make them leave because we cannot find them. That is where you and Carrie come in. We need your help to locate the invaders.”
“How do you know they’re here?” asked Carrie.
“There was an initial sighting in London a week ago, but since then they seem to have disappeared without trace.”
“Aliens running around London and no one can find them? What do they look like?” Dave asked.
“They are a little shorter than the average human,” replied Gavin, “though otherwise their physical structure is similar. They carry a green, pointed, odour sensing organ on their heads, which has a red protuberance rather like the feather of an Earth bird. Their skin is a medley of green and silver and resembles human clothing. Their ears differ markedly from humans, however, in that they are fleshy and pointed and rise above their heads. It is this characteristic that clearly sets them apart. I am surprised we have not had more notifications of sightings from members of the general public.”
Carrie and Dave were looking at each other. “Elves,” they said simultaneously.
“No, Slevs,” said Gavin.
Carrie turned to the alien. “They look like Santa’s elves. It’s Christmas, and people are dressing up as elves everywhere. That’s why no one’s spotting them.”
“Humans dress up as Slevs? Why would they do that?”
“They aren’t dressing up as...look, never mind. If these Slevs look like elves, Dave and I know what we’re looking for. You said there’s been one sighting. Where was it?”
“It was in an establishment adjacent to a highway in your country’s capital. I believe the highway goes by the name of Oxford Street.”
“We have to find aliens that look like elves on Oxford Street at Christmas?” said Dave. “We’ve got our work cut out for us.”
“We must start in the area they were most recently spotted,” said Gavin, “and work our way outward. The local police have been enlisted to help with the assignment, and there are two members of the public who got a close look and might be able to identify them again.”
“Hold on,” said Carrie, “what do you mean we? You aren’t going to join us, are you?”
“You’ll give everyone the fright of their lives if you step outside Carrie’s door,” added Dave.
“I will simply engage my invisibility function. It requires a little effort but it is not arduous.”
“You can turn invisible?” exclaimed Carrie. “How come you never told me?”
“I do not recall that you ever enquired.”
Carrie didn’t know what to say to this.
“So, you’re going to come with us? Just like that?” asked Dave.
“No, like this,” said Gavin, fading before their eyes until he was nothing more than a shimmer like heat haze above asphalt on a hot summer’s day.
***
Travelling in a nearly empty first class carriage was the only way to squeeze Gavin’s considerable bulk aboard a train and avoid awkward encounters with passengers coming up against his hard, chitinous exoskeleton. Even so, Carrie was sure the buffet cart assistant suspected something when she hit an unexpected invisible barrier while wheeling the cart through the carriage. The puff of chocolate scent that Carrie smelled—Gavin’s Ouch in his mother language of pheromones—didn’t help. She clutched her Transgalactic Intercultural Community Crisis Liaison Officer toolkit tighter. You never knew when you might need some specialised alien technology to make a quick getaway.
As soon as they arrived in London, they went to Scotland Yard, where advance notice had been given of their arrival, as they were ushered immediately into the office of the Commissioner of the Police of the Metropolis. The woman showed no surprise when Gavin uncloaked. Certain key people in relevant positions on all of Earth’s nations were aware of the Transgalactic Council and the watch it kept over planets that supported life.
Tall and thin, with short gray hair that still bore a few strands of its original auburn, the Commissioner turned a little paler at the sight of him, however.
“Thank you for coming,” she said, gesturing to two seats. Carrie and Dave sat down and Gavin crouched. “We appreciate the aid of the Transgalactic Council in this matter of global security. I’ll be brief because in truth we, unfortunately, have very little to tell you. The...Slevs, I believe they’re called?...were spotted last Thursday evening at Selfridges’ Santa’s Grotto, where they caused a disturbance that could have resulted in serious injury to the public.”
Carrie gasped. “I remember now. I saw it on the news. But the report said a spotlight had burst, and the shoppers thought it was a bomb going off, so they stampeded out of the shop.”
The Commissioner smiled wryly. “Not quite. There’s only so much we can reveal to the press, you understand. No, as far as we can ascertain from interviewing the staff, parents and children present, the Slevs were in the grotto helping Santa give out his presents, when one of them removed a child’s hat for some reason. This angered the boy, and he tried to remove the alien’s hat in return, only to find it was soft, fleshy and warm, and appeared to be part of the Slev’s head.
“The child began crying and saying that the elf’s hat was alive. To calm his fears, Santa went to remove another elf’s hat, but shouted in alarm when he couldn’t. At that moment the Slevs seem to have decided to make a run for it, because there was a bang and the lights in the grotto went out, causing mass panic.”
“Right, I see,” said Carrie. “Can we speak to Santa and the boy?”
The Commissioner sighed. “The boy’s parents refuse to allow him to be interviewed again, and Santa has developed amnesia over the incident. He says he has no idea what we’re talking about, and repeats the story about the spotlight exploding that he’s read in the paper. We’ve tried playing him the recording of his initial statement, but he insists the voice isn’t his. Even hypnotism hasn’t worked.”
“Damn,” said Dave, “we’re on our own then. They might have given us some tips on what to look for. I mean, apart from green hats and pointy ears.”
“It’s easy,” said Carrie, “we just have to find elves who aren’t really elves. At Christmas.”
The landline on the Commissioner’s desk rang. The woman picked up the phone, and her eyes widened as she listened. “There’s been another sighting. At Shaftesbury Avenue this time. The Slevs have been assaulting children in the audience of a pantomime.”
“Oh no,” Carrie exclaimed, jumping from her seat. “That’s terrible. Let’s get over there.”
Chapter Four – Oh Yes It Is
Chaos reigned at the panto by the time Carrie, Dave and Gavin arrived. The insectoid alien was invisible once more to avoid causing even more panic. The show had been stopped and the stage curtains drawn for an impromptu intermission as the theatre management tried to calm things down then start the show again once the Slevs had been found and evicted, but parents were already forming a queue at the ticket office and asking for their money back. Some were simply walking out.
“Thank goodness you’re here,” breathed the heavily made up, large-bosomed theatre manager, who was trying to persuade families to return to their seats. She spoke to the police officer who accompanied Carrie and Dave, but he quickly indicated that they were the ones to speak to.
“Tell us what happened,” said Carrie.
“I’m Mrs. Beaumont,” said the manager, shaking their hands before gesticulating wildly and continuing, “It was pandemonium. Strange elves suddenly appeared and ran into the audience. They must have been hiding in the theatre because no one saw them c
ome in. They started grabbing at the children. At first everyone thought it was all part of the show, but soon there were tears and screams. Parents were shouting and fighting the elves off. The actors abandoned their roles and went to help. I heard the commotion from my office. There were punches thrown from both sides, I believe, then the elves ran away, but they didn’t leave. They’re still here somewhere in the theatre.” The woman placed her hands together as if in prayer. “Could you please get them out before they do something else? I can’t afford to give the money back for the tickets. The theatre’s on its last legs. The bad publicity from this alone could put us under.”
“We’ll do our best, of course,” said Dave. “Could you tell us what they look like?”
“I never saw them close up, but you could ask one of the actors. I’m sure they can give a good description.”
“Right,” said Carrie, “can you show us backstage?” They followed Mrs. Beaumont through the crowd, leaving the police officer to help calm the situation in the lobby. Gavin cut a swathe with his invisible bulk, leaving some very puzzled mothers, fathers and children behind him.
As they made their way from the public areas to the quieter, colder, plainer stairways and corridors at the rear of the theatre, Carrie heard Gavin mumbling, and she caught whiffs of a strange odour.
In the green room they found both halves of the pantomime horse sipping on tumblers of what looked like whisky. The actor in the back half was still in costume, his legs in large horses’ legs suspended on braces over his shoulders. The actor in the front half had taken off his horse’s head. It lay on the floor beside him. The men’s hands were trembling, slopping their drinks. The actor playing the pantomime dame was with them, wearing an outrageously wide-skirted dress and a huge wig with ringlets. He was looking anxiously through the door that led to the wings.
“Lionel, Lawrence, what are you doing back here?” asked the manager the second they entered the room. “It’s Act Two. You should be on stage.”
“I can’t get them to move an inch,” said the dame, his thick stage make-up infused with an angry flush. “They should have been out there five minutes ago. Everyone’s been improvising, waiting for them to come on. They can’t keep it up much longer.”
“We’re not going out there,” said the back half of the horse. “What if those elves come back?”
“They’re horrible, horrible,” exclaimed the front half. “Their eyes, their ears, their hats. It isn’t a costume, it’s them.” He shivered and took a swallow of whisky, which made him cough.
“Never mind that now,” hissed the dame. “You’ve got to get on stage. You’re going to put us all out of a job. I can see people getting up. They’re going to walk out again, then the show really will be over, for all of us.”
“Oh dear, oh dear,” murmured Gavin.
“What was that? Who spoke?” asked the back half of the horse. “It wasn’t you, or you.” He pointed at Dave and Carrie. “It came from over there.” His eyes searched the half of the room where Gavin stood, only a faint bending of the light indicating his presence.
Carrie said, “There’s nothing—”
“He’s right,” said the front half, his eyes wide. “There’s something in here with us. I heard it too.”
Mrs. Beaumont’s mouth was open.
“Oh dear, I do apologise,” Gavin said, before blinking into solid reality.
Both halves of the pantomime horse shrieked, dropped their glasses and flew from the room, bowling over the theatre manager, who stood frozen in rigid terror. Being knocked to the floor seemed to break her trance. She squeaked and backed out of the room on all fours. The sound of her running footsteps echoed from the corridor. Only the pantomime dame seemed to retain a modicum of composure, though his previously angry flush had faded to chalky white.
“I knew it was a bad idea for him to come along,” said Dave.
“I am very sorry,” said Gavin. “This is most unexpected.”
“I thought you said it didn’t take a lot of effort to stay invisible,” said Carrie.
“Under normal circumstances, that is true. But—oh dear, this is very embarrassing—it is that time of the century. I lost track of my cycle. I am...I am...about to moult.”
“What?” Dave’s voice rose to a nervous pitch. “You’re going to shed your skin? Here? Now?”
“Not quite this moment, but in a little while. Until I have moulted, I cannot make myself invisible.”
From the stage came the sound of an actor saying loudly, “No, there are no horses for sale around here. None at all.” Into the silence that followed the line came disgruntled muttering from the audience. “None at all,” repeated the actor, shouting.
“You,” exclaimed the dame, pointing at Gavin. “Could you go on stage and pretend to be a horse, just for five minutes?”
“A horse? What is a horse?”
“It’s an Earth animal,” said Carrie, “and no, he can’t, sorry. We have to find the Slevs. They must be hiding here somewhere.”
“Please,” said the dame. “The actors are dying out there, and the poor children will be so disappointed if we stop the show. He only has to go out and walk up and down the back of the stage for a minute or two. I’ll tell him what to do and signal when he can come off. Please help us. It’s Christmas. We need our wages.”
“But he doesn’t look anything like a horse,” said Dave. “He’ll terrify the entire audience, let alone the actors.”
“Oh, it won’t matter, as long as we have something out there. We can pretend he’s adding a space age theme to the panto. Might even get a laugh.” The dame had a crazy look in his eye.
“I am happy to help,” said Gavin. “I would not like the human children to be sad.”
“Great,” said the dame as a third none at all sounded from the stage, with a note of desperation. “Step through here.”
Carrie and Dave looked at each other in disbelief as Gavin squeezed through the green room door, followed closely by the dame. A moment later Gavin’s appearance on the stage was marked by the noisy audience drawing an audible breath. The actor repeated, “None at all,” but this time his tone was puzzled and questioning.
A silence followed. Carrie anticipated the sound of hundreds of parents and children stampeding out of the theatre. Then a small child’s voice shrieked, “He’s behind you.”
“Behind me?” said the actor with relief. “Oh no, he isn’t.”
“Oh yes, he is,” replied the children in a deafening roar.
“Let me have a look,” the actor said. Gavin must not have followed the dame’s instruction to hide himself quickly, because the actor gave a short yell before somehow managing to master himself.
“Oh no, he isn’t,” he said again, shakily.
“Oh yes, he is,” insisted the children, giggling with glee.
After a few more moments of back and forth between the actor and audience, the horse’s part was over, and Gavin returned backstage.
“Thank goodness that’s over,” said Carrie. “Now let’s find these Slevs.”
“I am afraid I cannot accompany you,” said Gavin. “I am about to...ahem. I need to find somewhere private.”
As he spoke, the theatre manager reappeared. Her hand was across her eyes, and she averted her head from Gavin’s position in the room. “Could you...could you two come out here, please? I have some bad news.”
Leaving Gavin in the green room, Carrie and Dave joined the manager in the hallway.
“Something appalling has happened,” she said. “Apparently, the elves took one of the children.”
Chapter Five – Hidden Secrets
Emily Wainwright waited in the theatre manager’s office, pacing to and fro and checking the time. She wondered why it was taking so long for the police to come. Didn’t they take child kidnappings seriously?
Relief flooded her as the door opened. They were here at last. But instead of an officer from the Met, the theatre manager had returned with two people
in civilian clothing. The woman was short and a little chubby. She wore her hair in a ponytail. The young man was tall, dark-haired and handsome. He was stylishly dressed. Both of them looked too young to be detectives.
“Are you the police?” Emily asked. “Please, you have to find her. You have to find Beth. She’s just a little girl. She’ll be terrified. And she isn’t well. I shouldn’t have brought her here. Oh, why did I bring her?”
“We aren’t the police, but they’ve been informed. We’re here to help,” said the woman. “I’m Carrie, and this is Dave.”
“But, if you aren’t the police...?” asked Emily.
“It’s difficult to explain,” said Carrie, “but we’re kind of specialists in this, and the police are searching for the missing child too. Let’s sit down. Tell us everything that happened. Are you her mother?”
Emily took out a tissue from her handbag as her tears welled up. Beth’s abduction had been so sudden. Now the reality that she was really gone was beginning to hit. The man, Dave, guided her to a seat as her knees gave way. She wept a little before swallowing the lump in her throat and wiping her eyes and nose. She needed to stay strong for Beth’s sake. She needed to help these people get her back.
“I’m not her mother. I work in a children’s home. I brought Beth to see the panto with some much older looked-after children—oh my goodness, I forgot about them,” she exclaimed.
“It’s all right,” said Mrs. Beaumont, “your colleague is with them. They’re fine. They’re watching the rest of the panto.”
Emily relaxed a little. “We were watching the first act when those awful elves came running up. The children laughed at first, thinking it was all part of the show. But then the elves turned rough. They were grabbing the children’s faces and pulling off their hoods and hats. The children started crying and the parents began to push the elves away. No one knew what was going on. Then when the actors left the stage and started fighting the elves, we realised something was very wrong. I’d suspected it of course, because the elves looked the same as the ones I saw at Selfridges, and the same as...well, never mind that, but I knew I had to get our children away from them as quickly as possible.”
