by Barnaby Yard
“No, no. My cousin Lou wouldn’t get us into any of that stuff.” He made a face which made it very clear that when he said the word ‘stuff’, he was referring to something very unpleasant indeed, possibly involving a toilet.
“'Ee told me that this was just like... the first bit of the job. Then the other bits ‘appen and we get more proper jobs.”
This had been a long piece of dialogue for Lance to deal with, and it took him a few minutes of mouthing along to himself silently after Tony had finished speaking before he got everything.
“If we’re not meant to let anyone in or out. Why’d we let that fella with the cigars through?”
“Ah well, see that was special circumstances that.” He took another pull on the still lit cigar that hung from the corner of his mouth. “See what you’ve got to realise is, it’s a long game this one see. You have to...” He stopped as he turned towards Lance, or at least the space where Lance used to be. He spun round looking for the bulking frame before realising that Lance was now laying at his feet, and appeared to be snoring. He bent down to his partner and as he did so, heard a high whistling noise fly past his ear. He looked up and thought he saw a flash of silver roll across the cobbles. He was just pondering this when he felt a sharp sting on the back of his shoulder. He craned his head to the right to see what had stung him and as he did so the world spun in the opposite direction and went very, very black.
The top of a battered, purple top hat appeared from behind an ornamental hedgerow across the road from the palace gate
“Cor! You got ‘em both!” said the faux Nebwett in awe.
“Well yes, I wasted one though. Come on, let’s get in there. Who knows what’s happening to Spencer."
There, framed in the gateway in front of them was Spencer. Becky was more than a little alarmed to feel a rush of happiness and excitement as she saw that he was alive and well. He was stood over the two guards looking incredibly confused. Then, he glanced up and down the empty street and beckoned with his hand behind him. Two more figures emerged into the gateway next to him. Becky recognised the impressive frame of Colin. To be honest, it was hard not to as he was bouncing. He clearly had both his hands and feet bound somehow. Next to him was a slim, dishevelled figure Becky recognised as Albert Bulber. How on earth did he get here?
“Spencer!” she hissed across the road. “Over here!” Spencer turned and saw her. His face lit up into a beaming grin. Becky hoped desperately that she wasn’t blushing.
14
The Cosmic Carapace
“I’ve explained what’s happened to her, sort of, but just remember, you’re not staying.” Becky was talking to Nebwett in a stern voice. She had just returned from Mrs Strang’s kitchen where she'd had to explain that her son was temporarily gone. This had not gone down well, and Becky had had to fetch a tea towel in order to soak up all the tears once Mrs Strang’s handkerchief had been soaked through.
“I know Miss Ness,” Nebwett seemed quiet, frightened.
“Is everything OK?” Spencer asked.
“It’s just...” said the little man welling up. “My mam died when I was little an' I ain’t ever seen ‘er as a man.” He walked slowly towards the kitchen door.
Becky sighed.
“Oh god, we’re going to need more handkerchiefs,” she said, following him through the door.
By the time Spencer had followed them into the kitchen, the Strang’s were locked in a vice like hug, a mess of tears and wails from Mrs Strang.
“You poor boy! All on your own!”
Spencer walked past them and made his way to the group who were gathered in the corner. He tapped Esme on the shoulder and she moved to the side to reveal Spangler sat in the corner. His arms were hugging his knees in front of his face. He was rocking and humming softly to himself. He looked small and frail now, Spencer almost felt sorry for him, but now he knew. All of this was Spangler’s fault.
“You are Garsh aren’t you?” Spencer asked.
He realised the rest of the group were looking at him now rather than Spangler. He could see that they were not up to speed. They’d soon see.
“Spencer, what the hell are you talking about?” said Becky, but there was an edge in her voice which made her sound more worried than accusatory.
“Tell her Spangler. I don’t know how long you can keep this up, but they need to know what’s really happening.” Spencer's eyes didn’t leave the old man. As he spoke, Spangler stopped rocking and looked up. His bright blue eyes were shining with tears. He quickly looked away again and stared at the floor before he began to speak in a soft, broken voice.
“I didn’t have a partner.” The silence of the gathered group seemed to stiffen. Everyone was listening intently, barely daring to breathe.
“It was just me. I thought I knew what I was doing, but I knew nothing. When I started the Vibobbler, I thought it would open a portal, just a small doorway I could use to explore other universes. But I... I didn’t count on the other universes... The other mes.”
“What do you mean?” asked Becky, sounded even more confused than before he’d started.
“The universes were infinite, there were infinite possibilities, infinite versions of everything. It seems so obvious now, I should have thought.” Tears rolled down his cheeks.
“There were other mes that were also trying to create a device to open worlds, they were even in the same house, standing in the same spot I was. That’s where it all went wrong. Lord knows how many versions of me were out there, but we all travelled at the same time, I couldn’t stop it once it had begun, and I guess they weren’t able to either. It was... horrible. I could feel their minds, I could feel their bodies. We were all colliding, splicing together, but it felt...” He shuddered and Spencer noticed his hands were shaking.
“It was wrong. It wasn’t meant to happen. It seemed to last forever, but it might have only been a few minutes. I could feel the other minds... disappearing, dying.”
“Until there were only two?” asked Spencer quietly. “You and Garsh?” Spangler paused before answering, his voice cracking as he spoke.
“Yes. Not right away. There were thousands of us, maybe millions. Fighting for space, for survival. Eventually it was just myself and Garsh. I’ve been fighting him ever since.”
“Fighting him? How? When?!” demanded Becky. Spangler looked up at her. It looked like it hurt him to even look at her. His eyes were full of sorrow, apologies and tears. The twins had only managed gasps so far, Albert was jerking his head around trying to work out what the hell was going on.
“I’ve been fighting him all the time Becky. He’s in my head. Sometimes I lose myself to him, sometimes I fight back and can keep him at bay. We both live half lives.” He put his head in his hands.
“Is that why he’s doing all of this? He’s trying to kill you so he doesn’t have to... I don’t know, share his mind with you or whatever?!” Becky sounded exasperated.
“No, I don’t think so,” answered Spangler. “I don’t know what would happen if he killed me, what effect it would have on him. I think he wants to control me somehow, I guess by controlling my world. When we turned on the Vibobbler, I saw so many worlds. I could feel them all, smell and hear them. Some were beautiful, calm places. Others were dark, violent hell-holes. That’s where Garsh was. I’ve seen his mind. He cares for nothing other than power, and he won’t let anything get in his way. I’ve seen the things he will do.”
There was a simultaneous whimper from the twins, Albert put a comforting arm around each of them.
“That’s how you knew to send us to investigate the woman who was killed by the cart,” said Spencer.
“That’s how I knew of all of the incidents, from the minds of the others. Mostly they were experimenting. They were testing their ability to send things across and call them back. They all found it wasn’t easy. Mostly they lost control and things started happening without them. They were only setting things in motion, but the more they dabbled, the more
things happened on their own, randomly. I didn’t know what to do. I decided to gather you all to help try and keep a lid on it all, but I..”
“But why us?” Becky asked.
“I think it’s because we were there too weren’t we?” Spencer said flatly. “We were there when you set off the experiment, and so were the tortoises somehow.”
Spangler buried his head in his hands and stared at the ground.
“Yes. You were here on a visit from a local orphanage. I didn’t know you were downstairs, I thought you’d left! Your guardian was... was very close to me. She had evidently brought you back for one last look at the tortoises. You were directly below us when we started the device.”
“And what happened to her?”
“She... she died. It was a miracle any of us survived. The only explanation is that Garsh and I were at the eye of the storm and somehow the effect was different. You were children, just babies really, but somehow things were simpler for you because of it. I often wonder if it was the tortoises. Your minds wiped out all the others, you are unique in the multiverse, whereas I... have Garsh.”
“I don’t understand where the tortoises come into this," Spencer said. “How did they do anything?!”
Spangler looked up at him.
“Do you know how many bones go into creating a tortoise's shell?” he asked. There was silence from the group, many of whom now seemed afraid to breathe in case they interrupted.
“Roughly fifty," Spangler continued. “That is the same number of universes there are.”
“A coincidence?” Spencer said.
“No. I think the tortoises have reshaped everything, I think you’ve all reshaped everything, I think Garsh and I have too. I don’t even know what the world, the universe was like before the experiment now.”
“So we were all in the middle when the universe readjusted itself, so it did it around us?”
“That’s what I think. In fact, you Spencer were right there with us. You had wandered off from your group, carrying a tortoise, and walked in as we fired up the Vibobbler.”
The others looked at Spencer, as though looking for signs that he too was somehow spliced between his own mind and an evil other. He ignored them and continued.
“Well how do we get out of it? Put things back how they were?”
“You can’t,” Spangler said quietly. “We can only stop anything decaying further.”
“By stopping Garsh,” Spencer said. His mind was racing. He was from here? From this world? It was crazy, but he’d always felt like he hadn’t fit in, like there was something he was missing. In fact, now he thought about it, he’d always been waiting for something to happen. Well now it had.
“Right,” he said. “If Nebwett here is anything to go by, there could be more of these Vibobbler things out there, and more being made and copied all the time. It’s no good just stopping Garsh, there’ll be others. We have to destroy all of them. Is there a way we could make the Vibobbler see the other ones that have been made? Take me to them?”
“Yes,” Spangler answered. “I have a device which I use to track spikes in the carapace.”
“Sorry, the what?”
“The cosmic carapace.” The old man looked down again, bashful this time. “It’s what I call the network of universes. They are all connected via a sort of membrane. That’s how the Vibobbler works, it...”
“Yes, yes, just tell us what this thing you have can do.” Spencer was irritable. Although he looked pathetic right now, this old fool had almost destroyed all of reality. It was hard to be sympathetic. Spangler looked like a child who had been scolded for stealing a cookie.
“It detects disturbances. Sometimes, they are things crossing over where the membrane has weakened, sometimes it is Garsh with a Vibobbler. I’m certain he is the only one who has one though.” He glanced at the new Nebwett who looked around and realised an answer was expected of him.
“Oh, well I copied mine from Lord Garsh I did.”
“So, we only need to destroy the five that I believe he has.” Five. Garsh had five of them. Spencer pulled at his right earlobe.
“Right. First we need to get Lisa back to my world, that will bring the Queen back, and from what I've heard, she’ll be more than enough to deal with Garsh, everyone will follow her command, not his. He won’t be expecting it, he doesn’t think we have a Vibobbler, which thanks to... er .. Nebwett, we do. Then we need to find a way of linking this thing Spangler has got to the Vibobbler so it can track the others and destroy them. Garsh might have them all here in this world, but somehow I doubt it. Everyone agree?” There were nodding heads around the room. Half of them were in shock, the other were too scared to say anything. Spencer realised he had been talking quite loudly and aggressively without meaning to. He lowered his voice.
I think this new Nebwett should help us out before we try and get the real one back. He made this thing, so he must be good at this sort of stuff. Eva, Esme? You work with him on it ok?” They nodded at him.
“Everyone else is with me. Albert we’re going to need to use your skills for the theatrical I think.”
He turned to Mrs Strang who had now finished the washing up and was heading outside with the rug from the kitchen floor and a carpet beater.
“Erm, I wondered if you knew anyone who could do anything about the lads that have joined this Magisterial Guard thingy?” He wasn’t entirely sure if he was being offensive or not. Clearly the young men who had joined up had been mostly made up of petty criminals, so suggesting she might know them or be able to do something about them was a little accusatory. Having said that, he’d met Norbert, and he was pretty sure that if anyone knew what the criminal element was up to around here, it would be him.
Mrs Strang however, didn’t bat an eyelid at the question.
“Funny you should say that," she said in a matter of fact voice. “I’d decided I’d better have a word with my little group about that anyway, but now I know my Norbert is involved.” She marched out of the door and into the little street.
15
Mrs Strang’s Rally
The working women of Alexandria were a breed unto themselves. They had found themselves born into the metaphorical gutter of life (many were even born into an actual non-metaphorical gutter), but rather than gazing at the stars, they stared at the gutter. Hard. And they thought to themselves, Well, it’s not much, but it’s ours. So it better be the cleanest bloody bit of gutter this side of Droop Street or our Kevin is going to feel the pointy bit of my rolling pin. In Alexandria, women knew their place. Which was just above everyone else, preferably with a weapon. Long periods of hard work, and even longer periods of iron fisted delegation had ensured that their body’s were strong and tough, and their minds were made of steel.
Their real strength though was not as individuals. It was as a single, giant, wrathful organism which struck fear into the heart of every organisation, committee, political group, business, and on one memorable occasion a manufacturer of fake, rubber comedy breasts, who irked them. The group became the subject of horror stories for fathers to tell their sons at bedtime (but only after frantic checks to ensure the lady of the house was not in earshot). It was the subject of dark, whispered conversations in the corners of taverns (usually when the landlady had gone into the cellar to change a barrel). It was even rumoured the Queen herself was a member. And so the three words which made up their name became feared and revered throughout the land, everyone knew of The Women's Institute.
Spencer had watched as Norbert’s mother had waddled across the street to another squat door and knocked. A dumpy woman who was so remarkably like Mrs Strang, that when the door opened for a second he thought a mirror had been put across. There was some brief, muffled conversation before the woman in the door gave a firm nod and scuttled off down the street. Mrs Strang sidled back to him grinning. An image which made Spencer feel uneasy in a way he couldn’t quite explain.
“I reckon we’ve just got time before, to stick t
he kettle on and make us all a lovely cup of tea," she said, and bustled past him back into the house.
“Before what?" Spencer called after her, following into the small cramped kitchen where the others were still hunched over a map of the palace discussing their plans. Spencer noticed that Albert was particularly animated. He had the look of a man who had finally found something in the world that he had been looking for for a long time.
“Before they all get ‘ere obviously. I don’t know what I’d do if one of my boys ‘ad gone off and disgraced our family like that. Rita was so embarrased she didn’t know where to look when I told her that ‘er Simon had gone off. My Norbert wouldn’t do ‘nuffin like that. ‘Ee’s a good boy is our Norbert." The dirty copper kettle began to whistle on top of the blackened stove, Norbert's mother picked up the kettle and began to pour out tea into, to Spencer’s surprise, fine china tea cups which she seemed to have made appear from nowhere. Spencer noted that she didn’t use oven gloves to remove the kettle, who’s handle must have reached an incredible heat. He glanced at her hands and saw solid, hardened fingers protruding from a palm that could easily crush a walnut and possibly a skull.
“Take these out would you love, and tell ‘em there’ll be more on the way in a minute."
She handed Spencer a tray metal tray that had a sickeningly cute depiction of kittens playing with a ball of wool. Spencer felt his feet obeying before his mind had caught up and he made his way back outside to a scene very different from the one he had left just moments ago. Groups of women were scattered around the little cul de sac chatting, there must have been at least twenty of them in groups of three, four and five, and more were coming. There was a steady stream of ladies entering at the far end arriving and joining groups or making new ones.The noise level was rising and several of the nearest women were now making their way to Spencer, their eyes gleaming at the sight of the tea.
