The days that followed were empty and passed slowly for Helana. She sat with the beast for meals and in the evening. For the first few days, neither had very much to say to the other. Gradually, though, the coldness between them began to thaw. The beast and Helana began to talk to each other. Eventually, Helana even found herself starting to look forward to their evening meal, when they would sit on opposite sides of the large dining table and talk while they ate about things that did not really matter. Helana began to understand why the beast did not want to be alone in this huge house – here, just some company was a relief.
They talked about a great many things, but the beast never explained who he really was or why he looked as he did. If he had a name, he never told Helana what it was. Although he never spoke of it, and even though she had never asked, Helana was sure that he had suffered some secret tragedy. Sometimes, when there was a lull in their conversation, she would catch him watching her and in those moments his eyes emanated a sadness so profound Helana could almost feel it herself.
Helana had been in the house for an entire week before she found the library. The beast had learned that he could trust her not to try to leave, so he was happy for her to explore the house and its grounds. One day, Helana ventured along a corridor she had not seen before, and found herself standing at a large, heavy door. Despite its size, the door opened easily, and she stepped into a room so vast she could scarcely believe she had not found it sooner.
From the floor to the sweeping heights of the ceiling, the room was lined with shelves that were crammed with books. Helana walked slowly across the room, looking around in astonishment and delight. She loved reading and here, hidden away deep in the beast’s house, was a library so huge it could keep her occupied and entertained for a lifetime.
At random, she pulled a book from one shelf and carried it to the large round polished-wood table in the centre of the room. In moments, she was completely absorbed in her reading, transported to a fantastical world. She lost track of how long she sat there … so she had no idea that she was being watched. When she finally looked up, though, she saw a strange man standing by a shelf, holding a book in one hand and watching her with ill-disguised curiosity.
‘You shouldn’t be here,’ the man said. His accent was strange – slightly abrasive but somehow warm at the same time. ‘Who are you? What are you doing?’ he asked.
Helana stared back. ‘I’m sorry. I’m just reading.’
‘Well,’ the man said. His heavy eyebrows knitted together in a frown, as if he was not quite sure what to say next. Then he nodded, still frowning. ‘Good. That’s good. Reading is good. You carry on. Don’t mind me. Whoever you are.’
Helana found she was smiling back at him. ‘I’m Helana,’ she explained. ‘I suppose I live here now.’
‘What, with old hairy chops?’ said the man.
Helana laughed. ‘I think of him as the beast,’ she said. ‘Though he’s not as beastly as he looks.’
‘No,’ the man said seriously. ‘No, he really isn’t.’ Then he nodded thoughtfully. ‘But I must be getting on. Things to do. Busy busy busy.’
‘Aren’t you going to tell me who you are?’ Helana asked.
The man turned back, frowning. ‘I’m …’ He hesitated, looking around at all the books. ‘I’m the librarian,’ he said. ‘Yes, that’s it. The librarian. I work in libraries. Especially this one.’ He turned to go, then turned back again. ‘I don’t suppose you know where the laboratory is, do you? I’m assuming there is one. Must be, in a place like this.’
Helana nodded. ‘It’s where my father worked. I’ll show you.’
‘Your father?’ the man asked.
Helana closed the book she had been reading and replaced it on the shelf. ‘I’ll tell you about him on the way.’
Over the coming days, Helana spent much of her time in the library. She often saw the librarian consulting books and papers or on his way to and from the laboratory in the cellars. Helana came to understand how the books were organised; she found volumes she had not read since childhood, and discovered novels that were completely new to her.
She told the beast that she had found the library, and he seemed pleased that she had a way of occupying herself when she was not with him. One evening, in an unusually talkative mood, he told her that his father had collected most of the books, and that for a while he himself had continued to acquire novels and works of reference.
‘Why did you stop?’ Helana asked.
The beast did not answer, but turned away so she could not see his face.
‘I’m sure the librarian would be happy to help you,’ Helana said, hoping she had not offended him.
The beast lifted his face to her, his expression now one of bewilderment. ‘What librarian?’ he asked. ‘There is no one in this house apart from you and me.’
He said it with such finality that Helana did not dare to argue – but, as soon as the meal was finished, she hurried to the library. There was no sign of the librarian, though she hunted through the maze of bookshelves and checked each and every alcove. He often spent time at one end of the library, where there was a strange blue cabinet that seemed out of place amongst all the books. But, when she looked, he was not there either.
Helana made her way to the cellars to check the laboratory. Sure enough, the librarian was standing by the main workbench. He held up a small glass bottle filled with a colourless liquid just as Helana entered.
‘Who are you?’ Helana demanded before the man could say a word. ‘Why are you really here?’
‘I’m the librarian,’ he replied. ‘I told you, remember?’
‘But the beast says there is no librarian. He says there is no one in this house except for him and me,’ she retorted.
The man’s expression hardened. ‘I’m here to help,’ he said. ‘Whatever else you care to believe, you must believe that.’
The man’s expression was so intense that Helana found herself believing him. Before she could say anything more, the man held up the small bottle for her to see. ‘My work here is almost done,’ he said. ‘This is why I came.’
‘To take a bottle of liquid?’ Helana asked.
‘To make a bottle of liquid,’ he corrected her. ‘You have no idea how much research it involved. Your beast friend is lucky he has such a good library, and that I have an even better one.’
‘But what is in the bottle?’ Helana asked.
‘His salvation,’ the man told her. ‘Yours too, I suspect. Here.’ He handed her the bottle.
Helana stared at it, puzzled. ‘What’s it for?’
‘It’s for furry chops upstairs to drink, that’s what,’ the man said.
She hardly dared breathe as she asked, ‘Will it kill him?’
The man’s jaw dropped open. ‘Kill him? What do you take me for! No. It will save him. Get him to drink it, and you’ll see.’
Helana was still not sure, but she instinctively trusted the librarian. Not only was he knowledgeable, but if he had wanted to kill the beast with poison he would have been able to do so many times over by now.
It was not until the next evening that Helana got the chance to get the beast to drink the fluid. Should I simply hand him the bottle? she wondered. Should I tell him about the librarian he did not know existed? But she had no way of knowing how the beast would react. If the librarian was right and the liquid could somehow save him …
Towards the end of the meal, she took her chance to tip the contents of the small bottle into the beast’s drink while he wasn’t looking. Then, her heart thumping, she waited for him to drink. Perhaps, she thought, nothing at all will happen.
Something did happen, however. The beast downed his drink and almost immediately he began to choke and cough. His hands went to his throat and he stared accusingly across the table at Helana.
‘What have you done to me?’ he gasped.
She shook her head, trying to explain, but the words would not come. By now, the beast was on his feet, lurch
ing round the table towards her and the only thing Helana could think to do was fetch the librarian. She ran from the dining hall, and could hear the beast staggering after her.
In the library, the librarian was sitting at the round table, his feet up on it and reading a book. He swung his feet to the ground and stood up as Helana rushed in, breathless and pale. She had hardly opened her mouth to explain what had happened when the doors burst open again and the beast fell into the room behind her.
At once the librarian was kneeling beside him, and he turned the beast over. The creature’s eyes were closed.
‘Oh, what have we done to him?’ Helana gasped.
‘Saved him, I hope,’ the librarian said. ‘A while ago, he was caught in an unstable time field. It’s very rare, and very damaging. Evolution and regression all mixed up together. Resulting –’ he gestured at the unconscious beast – ‘in this.’
Helana had no idea what the man was talking about. ‘What was that liquid?’ she demanded. ‘Was it poison?’
The librarian shook his head. ‘It was a temporal antidote. It’s what he was hoping your father could produce for him, but the knowledge and skill that’s needed is way beyond anything on this backwards planet. No offence,’ he added, glancing at Helana. ‘I finally worked out the exact genetic code necessary to correct his DNA,’ he went on, with just a hint of pride in his voice. ‘Yes, look – it’s working.’
Helana caught her breath as she saw what was happening to the beast. The hair on the creature’s face seemed to be receding. His eyes cleared from red to blue. Where there had been a dark snout, a human nose appeared. The massive, hairy paws were suddenly hands – and one of them was reaching up towards Helana. She took hold of it.
‘It’s all right,’ she said quietly. ‘I’m here.’
‘Helana,’ the man who had been the beast breathed. His voice was gentle, not at all like the gruff tones Helana was used to. She still recognised the features of the beast in the handsome young man who slowly sat up and stared deep into her eyes. ‘My darling Helana – I don’t know how, but you have saved me.’
‘It wasn’t me,’ she started to reply. As she spoke, she looked around for the librarian.
There was no sign of him.
They were alone in the library.
‘I don’t understand,’ Helana said. ‘Where has he gone?’
Her words were drowned out by the rasping, wheezing, scraping sound that came from the other side of the room. Over where the librarian’s strange blue cabinet stood – or, rather, where it used to stand. The cabinet, like the librarian, had vanished into thin air.
Once, in a small town nestled in a remote valley far from any other towns or cities, there lived a young woman called Andiba. Her home town was unremarkable, except for its winery and distillery, which was known for producing the very best wine and vinegar anywhere in the region.
Andiba liked living in this little town. Several days a week she worked in a small bakery, selling bread and cakes to the local townspeople. The best part of her day was when Vash came in to buy bread. Vash, whose father was the manager of the winery and distillery, always seemed to be happy. His smile brightened Andiba’s day.
When she was not working in the baker’s shop, Andiba would go walking in the valley just beyond the town. She liked the fact that she was able to walk out into the countryside and, in just a few minutes, lose herself in the fields and woodland. She loved to walk alone, listening to the wind in the trees, the birds singing and the distant chuckle of the streams and waterfalls.
One day while she was out walking Andiba heard voices, which was unusual. Even though other people from the town did venture into the countryside, the valley was so large that Andiba rarely met anyone else – especially since she did not keep to the paths and roads, but explored the more remote areas. The voices were deep and strange, and this made Andiba wary. Being careful not to make any noise and to stay hidden in the trees, she crept closer to try to find out who the voices belonged to.
She found herself at the edge of a slope that led down into a shallow dip in the landscape. Below her was a large silver building. It was strange, sleek and curved, like nothing she had ever seen before. Standing outside it were four creatures – also like nothing she had ever seen before. They were tall with pot bellies and long arms that ended in clawed fingers. Their heads, which seemed to be balanced precariously on their necks, had round, almost childlike faces with big, dark eyes.
‘The ship will be safe here,’ one of the creatures told the others. ‘No one from the town ventures this far afield.’
‘Even if someone did find it,’ another of the creatures said, ‘they are such a primitive people that they would think it was just a building. The concept of space travel is far beyond them. And they cannot get in without the verbal entry code.’
This was certainly all beyond Andiba; she had absolutely no idea what the creatures were talking about. What was clear to her, though, was that they had come from far, far away, and she suspected that their intentions, whatever they might be, were not good. As the creatures’ conversation continued, Andiba became sure of it.
‘The orbital survey confirms that the best location to mine the madranite and other rare minerals is where the town is situated,’ one of the creatures said.
‘That is regrettable,’ the first replied. ‘But we Slitheen have never shied away from doing what we must to secure a profit. We shall have to destroy the town and everyone in it.’
Andiba put her hand over her mouth to stop herself gasping aloud. She had to find out exactly how these Slitheen planned to destroy her home town. She could not simply stand by and let that happen – but it was not going to be as easy as simply staying hidden and listening to their plans.
‘We should continue this discussion inside the ship,’ one of the Slitheen said. ‘The main computer will have downloaded all available data on the town so we can start to plan our attack.’
The others nodded, and they all turned towards a door in the side of the metal building.
‘Open, six one three,’ one of them said. The door slid silently open. All four creatures made their way inside, and the door slid shut behind them.
Andiba frowned, wondering what to do. Should she hurry back to the town and raise the alarm? Who, if anyone, would believe her? And what could she usefully tell them? No, she decided, it would be better to know more about the plans these Slitheen are making.
Her heart thumping hard, Andiba made her way quietly down to the metal building. There was no obvious way to open the door – no handle or lever – so she repeated the words she had heard the Slitheen say.
‘Open, six one three.’
Immediately the door slid open and, pausing for just a moment, Andiba stepped into the darkness beyond.
It took a little while for her eyes to adjust. When they did, she could see a corridor trailing off into the strange building. Further along the corridor, a pale green light spilled out of a doorway and Andiba could just make out the murmur of the creatures’ voices.
As she crept cautiously towards the green-lit doorway, it became apparent that the voices were coming from yet further along the corridor. Andiba was curious to see what was through the glowing green doorway, though, so she peered carefully inside on her way past. Her eyes widened in surprise and disbelief.
Beyond the doorway lay a room bathed in the green glow; the light seemed to come from nowhere and everywhere at the same time. But it was what was inside the room that had startled Andiba. The room was full of crates and, because they did not have lids on them, Andiba could see that they were filled with jewels. There were diamonds, rubies, emeralds and many others she had no names for, all glittering in the pale light.
The voices from down the corridor had grown louder now, and Andiba had to remind herself why she was here. Tearing her eyes from the bounty in front of her, she stepped out of the room and carried on down the corridor.
Soon she saw light coming from another
doorway further along. The Slitheen’s voices grew steadily clearer and, as soon as Andiba could discern what they were saying, she stopped. She saw no point in going any closer to them than she had to.
‘This distillery concerns me,’ one of the Slitheen was saying. ‘It produces wine, and also vinegar.’
There were muffled noises that sounded to Andiba like agreement.
‘We must destroy the distillery before we can attack the town,’ another of the creatures said.
‘Obviously,’ added a third. ‘We cannot allow the inhabitants to have access to a weapon they could use against us – whether they know it’s a weapon or not.’
A weapon? Andiba thought. What could they mean? Her curiosity outweighed her fear, and she crept a little closer.
‘Then we must infiltrate this distillery,’ the Slitheen who seemed to be in charge said.
‘We only have one bodysuit,’ another pointed out.
‘One will be enough.’
Andiba had reached the doorway now, and she risked a quick look round its edge. She stared into the room for the briefest moment before stepping back out of sight – but she had seen enough. One of the Slitheen was holding up what looked like an empty human skin; the pale, dead features of the limp face were even more frightening than the Slitheen themselves.
Andiba backed away down the corridor. She had heard and seen enough, she decided. Now she had to get to the distillery and warn Vash’s father that the Slitheen were coming. She hadn’t been able to work out why but, for some reason, they were frightened of the distillery. And she had the distinct impression that it was not the wine but the vinegar that scared them.
The door to the ship had closed behind her. Andiba felt a moment of panic. What if the words that opened the door only worked from outside? But, to her relief, the door opened at once when she said the words again.
Soon she was running up the incline and through the woodland back towards the town.
She was exhausted by the time she reached the distillery. The manager listened to her breathless story of strange creatures planning to destroy the town. As she spoke, Andiba’s frustration grew; it became increasingly obvious that the manager did not believe a word of what she was telling him.
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