Space Crime Conspiracy

by Gareth P. Jones

  ‘We Therapians always loved a good view,’ said Quil. ‘So when we started building houses, we wanted to be high enough to see above the one next door. Then the next building would come along and we’d keep building higher to see more than our neighbours, but all we did was ruin the view we had before we started.’

  ‘This is how Armoria looks now,’ said Jupp.

  ‘That’s right,’ said Quil. ‘We gave the Armorians a lot of ideas. The difference was that Armorians never cared much for the nature they built over, whereas we always liked our gardens.’

  Stanley noticed that most of the high buildings had roof gardens, complete with lawns, flowerbeds, bushes and trees.

  Quil pointed down to one of these. ‘This is actual footage. You look carefully and you can see my father watering his begonias.’

  Stanley leaned in to see better, but suddenly jumped back when a large flat spaceship came into view. The hologram passed through him harmlessly, causing Jupp to giggle.

  ‘What is that?’ he asked.

  ‘That’s a cloud ship,’ said Quil. ‘This is how bad things got. As I say, we liked our plants so we still needed rain, but no one liked the way that the rain was so unevenly distributed. Some parts of the planet got bucketloads, other places hardly any. It’s the same on most planets. And you know that feeling when you get caught in the rain without your umbrella? Everyone hated that. So we decided to automate the rain.’

  ‘Automate it?’

  ‘Right. You know how rain works, yeah? Evaporation, condensation and precipitation? It evaporates from the ocean, then condenses into clouds and rains back down again.’ Quil laughed. ‘Pretty magical, man. But we Therapians, in our wisdom, decided that we could do all that ourselves. So we got rid of the oceans, installed a worldwide drainage system to collect the water and designed these cloud ships. Watch.’

  Rain suddenly fell down from the cloud ship on to the city below.

  ‘That’s fantastic.’

  ‘Yeah, kind of. I mean, they were able to distribute it evenly and, since the cloud ships operated according to a schedule, no one ever had an excuse for not having their umbrella.’

  ‘So what went wrong?’ asked Stanley, assuming that it must have led to some great disaster.

  ‘Nothing went wrong, man. It worked just fine. In fact, Armoria uses the same system now. It appealed to their sense of control. Those cats love to control things, even themselves. Look at the Planner, man.’

  ‘From what I’ve heard, the Armorians have gone further and added all sorts of nutrients, flavours and colouring to the rain,’ said General P’Tang. ‘I spoke to someone who had been caught in a cherryade shower.’

  ‘But if it all worked fine, why did you get rid of them?’ asked Stanley.

  ‘Simple, really. We missed the clouds. And we missed the fields. We realised that we had spent so much time building up that we’d gotten away from what we really liked.’ Quil waved a hand over the table and the picture disappeared.

  ‘So you knocked everything down and started again?’ asked Stanley.

  ‘Yeah. We’d started to spread out on to other planets by that point and so we had enough room to redesign the place as we liked it. In fact, if anything it’s even better than before because it’s properly designed now. We made all these hills so we could keep our views, only now they’re views of nature.’ Quil stood up and walked to a window, which looked out over rolling hills.

  ‘So none of this is real?’

  ‘Define real, man. These are real hills, real trees, real rivers, real clouds, man. Just because your garden is designed is it any less real? Therapia is a garden, man. It’s the biggest garden in the universe. You wanna hear some music now?’

  Stanley had never heard anything like the music that started to play when Quil waved his hand over another part of the table. It began with an apparently rhythmless series of hoots, which were then joined by drumming, that grew louder and louder, but seemed to have no connection to the hoots. The hoots turned to howls and the drumming got faster.

  Quil appeared to have fallen into a trance. His eyes were shut tight, his head swayed back and forth and his hands kept the beat on the table.

  Jupp leaned forward and whispered in Stanley’s ear. ‘If you think the music’s weird, wait until you see him dance.’

  A new instrument joined in that could be best described as the sound of a wild animal eating a piano while the entire brass section of an orchestra were repeatedly thrown off a cliff.

  Still with his eyes shut, Quil sprang up off his chair and started throwing himself around the room in a series of random jerky movements that made it look like he was experiencing some kind of fit.

  General P’Tang remained stony-faced, but Jupp laughed and grabbed Stanley’s sleeve. ‘Come on,’ she said. ‘Let’s join in.’

  Stanley stood up and, a little embarrassed, started to copy Quil’s movements. Oddly enough as he did so he felt like he began to understand the music. Nothing in it had changed, but it was as if it found form inside his head when he moved.

  Quil opened his eyes and smiled. ‘Yeah, man, lose yourself in the crazy beat.’

  They continued dancing until the final note, when all three of them collapsed on the floor laughing. It felt like years since Stanley had laughed like this. As he wiped away the tears from his eyes he felt relaxed and happy.

  ‘Quil, we have much to talk about,’ said General P’Tang seriously.

  ‘Yeah, man. Let me show you where you’ll be staying, then we’ll get talking business.’

  .

  24

  ‘Now, do you mind if I take a look at this wonderful talking mushroom of yours?’

  Instead of his having to climb the staircase, when Stanley put his foot on the first step the whole thing spun round, lifting him to the next floor, where Quil showed him his room. It was big and airy with large windows overlooking the rolling hills of Therapia. Below his window was the flat patch of grass where the Goodship Gusto had landed.

  ‘Settle yourself in. You can gather your thoughts here and come down when you feel like it,’ Quil said. ‘The glass is molecular, so if you want some fresh air, press this button.’ He did so and the glass disappeared.

  ‘Brilliant. Thanks,’ said Stanley.

  Quil pressed the button again and the glass reformed. ‘You just chill out here until you want to come down.’

  ‘Don’t be too long. We have important business to discuss,’ said General P’Tang.

  ‘Oh, don’t be so uptight, Endal. Now, Juppster, your room is across the hall.’

  Stanley could tell that Quil’s relaxed attitude was grating on General P’Tang’s sense of urgency, but he felt glad to be able to shut the door on them, sit down on the large comfortable bed and have a moment to himself.

  ‘Me hungry,’ said Spore, climbing out of his pocket on to the bed.

  ‘Hi, Spore.’ Stanley found a plate of cookies and placed them on the bed for Spore to help himself.

  ‘Me like it here,’ he said, with his mouth full of half-chewed cookie. ‘Me like the music noise, but me feel funny when Stanley jump around to them.’

  ‘Sorry, I forgot you were there.’

  ‘Me not mind. Me just happy to be with Stanley.’

  ‘I’m happy you’re here too. We’re both a long way from home, aren’t we?’

  ‘What is home?’

  ‘Home is where you come from. It’s where your family are.’

  ‘Spore’s family never understand this spore.’

  ‘I know how you feel.’ Stanley picked up a cookie from the plate and took a bite. It tasted good.

  ‘Me like the man called Quil, but not trust general man with shiny eyes.’

  ‘General P’Tang? He’s just wearing sunglasses. Why don’t you trust him?’

  ‘Because he say all everyone is the same, all everyone equal, all everyone brothers, but he not the same, he not equal, he not brother. He General.’

  ‘That’s because he’s in c
harge.’

  ‘In charge to lead others to fighting? Spore not like fighting. Spore used to fight with other spore over food. Fighting hurt.’

  ‘This is different. The Armorians have done terrible things. General P’Tang wants to fight to stop them.’

  ‘So fighting can be good thing?’ Spore looked at him quizzically.

  Stanley didn’t know how to respond, but whatever he would have said went out of his head when another voice spoke from the doorway. ‘What a remarkable life form!’

  Stanley and Spore looked up to see a wild-haired man with a huge head, massively out of proportion to the rest of his body.

  ‘I’m sorry, this isn’t my room,’ he said. ‘You’d think with my brain capacity being three times the size of most sentient beings, that I’d at least be able to tell one door from another. But, alas, door recognition seems beyond my cognitive capability. I’d like to say that it’s because my mind is focused on higher things, but the truth is I’m just not good with doors. Pleased to meet you, young man.’

  ‘You’re Professor NomVeber,’ said Stanley.

  ‘I am indeed. Of that I am almost entirely positive. One can never be fully sure of anything, of course, but I do think that there is considerable evidence to that effect. Now, do you mind if I take a look at this wonderful talking mushroom of yours?’

  The professor pulled out a magnifying glass and stepped closer.

  ‘Me Spore, not mushroom,’ said Spore.

  ‘Yes, yes, fascinating,’ continued the professor, bending low to get a better look. ‘It appears to be a fungus of the species Gomphus mobilus, commonly found in and amongst refuse.’

  Spore was looking anxiously up at the magnifying glass. ‘Me not like the make-things-bigger glass.’

  ‘It’s OK, Spore,’ said Stanley. ‘Professor NomVeber won’t hurt you. He’s the cleverest man in the universe. He discovered cutspace.’

  The professor turned to address Stanley. ‘Not strictly correct. Steppers have been using it for centuries. I simply developed the cutspace drive, which enabled the rest of us to use it. Do I know you?’

  ‘I’m Stanley Bound. You answered my question about cutspace on the information thing.’

  ‘I do a lot of that. I should never have agreed to it. Weren’t you under arrest?’

  ‘Yes, but General P’Tang teleported me aboard their ship, then brought me here. What about you? Why are you here?’

  ‘I’m here as a guest of Quil Tisket. I like Therapia a great deal, partly because that blinking Vik Noddle can’t reach me here. And they’ve done a marvellous job on the planet. Quil’s a lovely man, but I can’t say I like that terrible music of his. I’m a big fan of silence myself. I have some wonderful albums of it. Now please tell me, where did you find this wonderful specimen?’

  ‘He found me really.’

  ‘Spore Stanley’s friend,’ said Spore.

  ‘How very impressive. It’s able to make personal distinctions of taste and even to form emotional attachments and communicate them. Where are you from, Master Spore?’

  Together, Stanley and Spore explained how he had grown in a rubbish container, then climbed out to look for his brother and found that he was suddenly more advanced than the rest of his family.

  ‘And none of your relatives have these abilities?’ asked Professor NomVeber.

  ‘This spore the only speaking spore,’ said Spore.

  ‘Intriguing, isn’t it? The only speaking spore, and not just basic communication but a whole range of tenses, syntactic invention and emotional complexity. I’d love the opportunity to study him. I only have a few bits with me, but I should be able to conduct some rudimentary tests.’

  ‘What kind of tests?’ said Stanley.

  ‘Only very basic ones. Nothing that would cause our little friend any distress or harm. You have my word.’

  ‘Me stay with Stanley,’ said Spore.

  ‘Don’t you want to find out why you’re like you are?’ asked Stanley.

  ‘Why this spore Spore?’

  ‘Exactly,’ said Professor NomVeber. ‘It won’t take long. You’ll be back with your friend in a couple of hours.’

  Spore looked up at Stanley, then at Professor NomVeber. ‘OK, I go with the big-headed one to find out why.’

  ‘You said, I,’ said Stanley.

  ‘This is wrong?’

  ‘No, it’s right. You said I instead of me.’

  ‘I a fast learner, yes?’ said Spore.

  ‘Exactly. And hopefully we’re going to find out why,’ said Professor NomVeber.

  .

  25

  ‘I’m not going to start judging you just because you killed a man I liked’

  As Stanley stepped on to the spiral staircase it twisted the other way and took him back downstairs. He found Jupp standing in the hallway, listening at a door. From behind the door came the sound of raised voices.

  ‘Dad and Quil are arguing,’ she whispered.

  ‘Listen, Endal, we started the League to challenge Armoria’s ideas, not to fight their police force,’ Quil was saying. ‘Let your words be your weapons, man. Let your words be your weapons.’

  ‘It’s all very well for you, Quil, living here, outside of Armorian control, while the rest of the universe suffers. The time to strike is now.’ General P’Tang sounded angry.

  ‘Last time they argued like this it ended with Dad setting up the Brotherhood. We didn’t come back here for five years,’ whispered Jupp. ‘I don’t want that to happen again. Quil needs to see sense.’

  She tugged Stanley’s sleeve and they entered the room.

  ‘Jupp, Stanley, welcome to my rainbow room. Grab some pillow space,’ said Quil, hardly sounding like a man in the middle of an argument. The room was full of colourful cushions. Quil was sprawled over several of them, while General P’Tang looked considerably less relaxed, pacing back and forth. There was no need to ask why it was called the rainbow room. Several miniature rainbows had sprung up near Quil as he spoke but as they approached General P’Tang the vivid colours became faded and muddy.

  ‘What’s making them?’ asked Stanley.

  ‘They’re mood-sensitive refractions, man. They’re created by positive thinking. Watch.’ A rainbow shot up from near Quil and came down in front of Stanley. ‘I’m thinking about the whole universe living in peace. You dig?’

  ‘That’s brilliant,’ said Stanley.

  ‘Yeah, I thought it would be a good place for this discussion.’

  ‘It’s very pretty, Quil, but we have serious business,’ growled General P’Tang, causing the rainbow to vanish altogether.

  ‘There’s always time for positivity,’ said Quil, sending another in his direction.

  ‘Perhaps you can talk some sense into him, Stanley,’ said General P’Tang, flapping his arms in frustration. ‘Stanley knows the meaning of action. He has dealt the first blow against Armoria, bravely putting his own life at risk in order to take the life of the president.’

  ‘Er . . .’

  ‘Vorlugenar wasn’t such a bad cookie, man,’ said Quil.

  As he spoke a rainbow appeared, but it didn’t get far before General P’Tang replied, ‘What are you talking about? Of course he was bad. He may have made a few concessions, but he was still ultimately the one responsible for everything. There’s no such thing as a good Armorian president.’

  ‘I shared some cloud tea with him a few times, you know. He wasn’t a bad man.’

  ‘You met with Vorlugenar?’ said General P’Tang disdainfully.

  ‘I was trying to make him see our point of view. That’s what the League is about. It’s for planets to get together and stand up for their rights. I told him that I thought Armoria had become, you know, a little heavy-handed, and that maybe it was time to peel back this whole universe-domination trip they were on.’

  General P’Tang laughed. ‘Hah. All these people understand is violence.’

  ‘I don’t think so, man. I think he was starting to get it.’
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  ‘This is typical of you, Quil. You see the good in everyone,’ said General P’Tang.

  ‘Is that a bad thing?’

  ‘Yes, because you fail to see the truth.’

  ‘I don’t understand,’ said Stanley. ‘If you liked the president so much, why have you been so nice to me?’

  ‘Hey, man, I take people as I find them. I’m not going to start judging you just because you killed a man I liked. We’ve all got our own path to stroll along.’

  ‘Stanley did a great thing when he killed the president,’ said General P’Tang. ‘There is such a thing as justified killing. Armoria declared war on the universe when it decided to police it. Stanley’s act was an act of war.’

  ‘You say that like it’s a good thing,’ said Quil.

  ‘I think history will show it to be not only good but a brave and important thing.’

  ‘And clever,’ added Jupp.

  ‘Tell Quil why you did it,’ urged General P’Tang.

  ‘Yes, tell him,’ said Jupp.

  ‘I didn’t do it,’ Stanley said quietly.

  Quil, Jupp and General P’Tang all stared at him. None of them spoke.

  ‘I . . .’ Stanley began. He wondered how it had suddenly become so difficult to tell the truth. ‘They arrested the wrong person. I’ve never killed anyone.’

  ‘But it was you in the footage,’ said General P’Tang.

  ‘I’ve seen it too, man,’ said Quil. ‘It sure as cosmic chutney looked like you.’

  ‘And you said you did it,’ said Jupp. ‘You told me you did.’

  ‘I lied.’

  Stanley looked at Jupp and saw his own face reflected in her mirrored glasses. All the rainbows had gone from the room now.

  .

  26

  ‘It’s a big universe and you’re going to get a lot of people telling you a lot of different things, but bear this in mind: I’ve got no ulterior motive’

  ‘Jupp, let me explain,’ cried Stanley, but she ran out of the room.

  ‘I think you should explain to us too, Brother Bound,’ said General P’Tang.

  Stanley ignored him and ran after Jupp, taking the stairs of the spinning staircase two at a time. At the top he saw her door slam shut. He felt terrible. He wished he had told the truth from the start, but if he had done that, he wondered, would she ever have liked him at all?