by Stan Arnold
‘Just remember,’ said Jim, with a smile. ‘Nobody likes a smart arse.’
Mick continued shooting while Jim and Digby, moved everyone back off the pier. No need to give the caimans second helpings. The Daring Doozers came running ashore. The villagers, who had no idea who they were, or why they were there, greeted them with lots jiggling about and welcoming noises.
Mrs Hathaway, Jim and Mick exchanged hugs and explanations. She then went over and said hello to Digby. If there had been a big bell in that part of the Amazon, it would have gone clang. For the third time in as many months, Digby fell totally and instantly in love with Mrs H. She had an aura of perfection - something he’d never seen before. Something he’d never even dreamt of before. She was his perfect woman. She was absolutely incredible. Though he did wonder how she knew his name.
Mick and Jim explained the Charlie connection to Mrs Hathaway and Giles, so all the loose ends were nice and tidy, which is just how Mrs Hathaway liked it.
During their flight up the Amazon, the Daring Doozers had written a song, and, without prompting, they sang it to the villagers and anyone else within earshot. And you would have to be a long, long way away not to have been within earshot.
It was really a rap with a bit of a tune. Imagine a cross between Ghostbusters and Land of Hope and Glory, with big chunks missing.
We are - Daring Doozuz
Winerz - not loozuz
We save - Talluluz
We are - so cooluz
Want some? - then choozuz
Action? - then use-uz
We dooz the dares - when no one else cairz
Oo - oo - oozers (clap) Daring (clap) Doozers. Yeah!
Giles fully expected the performance to be greeted with a hail of rocks, poison darts and dead snakes, but instead, the villagers applauded politely. He had been present while the song was being written and rehearsed, and had seriously thought of asking the Hawaii Mars pilots would they mind if he crawled out on a wing and stuck his head in a propeller.
The villagers, most of whom were recovering from the previous night’s celebrations, never needed an excuse to party, so within minutes, the food was being prepared, bottles of GUA were being opened and the nose flutes were out.
The Daring Doozers got into the swing of things, immediately. It was incredible. Real people, real music, real jungle, and no curtains to shut out the daylight. Everyone danced and everyone sang, and no wonder. The bandit threat had disappeared, the Black Pool would stay untouched and the future looked as rosy as ever for the villagers - a unique group of people, living life as they always had done, in a paradise of their choosing.
There was a moment of sadness when the men who had disposed of the anaconda reported they’d found a large adjustable spanner in its gut.
‘Geeit tae me,’ said Hamish, ‘I’ll use it tae fix yon waterwheel.’ He held the spanner and his bowl of GUA above his head.
‘Here’s to Zac.’
‘To Zac,’ said everyone. Then the nose flutes kicked off again and the party got back into full swing.
Mrs Hathaway sat next to Giles and, although she refused a bowl of GUA, she was in good spirits. They chatted about how well the challenges had gone and the fact that how everything had nearly been a disaster would be right up the Daring Dooz readerships’ streets.
‘Thing is,’ said Giles, ‘we need one more spectacular challenge, something really amazing to end with.’
Mrs Hathaway thought the Atlantic crossing, the hurricane-shark experience, the time-vortex tunnel, the engineless 20,000 feet freefall, the caimen-dodging tightrope walk and overcoming slaughter by the Pangonistas was a pretty reasonable series of adventures. Maybe it didn't look much when you were sitting safe and cosy in the Shard counting the extra profits from the doubled circulation. But, she had survived, and there was the £2 million to look forward to. So she let him carry on.
‘You’ve done a brilliant job Tallulah, but you know us publishing types - always looking for the big one!’
Mrs Hathaway had thoughts around the fact that she knew where the big one was, but wouldn’t be so vulgar as to mention Aubrey’s name or to drop even the slighted hint.
As the party mellowed, and the campfire flames turned to glowing embers, Giles decided to make a speech. He stood in the centre of the circle and said nice things about Hamish and the villagers and wished them well. Then he turned to the Daring Doozers.
‘As CEO and owner of Daring Dooz and UFO News International - you can call me Giles (loud cheers) - I’d like to thank all the Daring Doozers who made the long and expensive journey to Manaus International, then up to the village here, with no clear idea of what was going to happen. Just a determination to save Mrs Hathaway and the hostages in the village.’
‘Daring Dooz!’ shouted someone, and there were more loud cheers.
‘Of course, it turned out, that, thanks to Hamish and the darts team, everyone was saved before we got here. But you came just the same. You had no doubts and no fears, and I’d like to thank you all from the bottom of my heart.’
‘But I have a confession. Right from the start when Splatter (more loud cheers) and I hatched this rescue, there was something I never had the nerve to tell you.’
He paused. It was crunch time.
‘The bandits all had M16s.’
The Daring Doozers looked up at him with blank faces. Most of them supposed an M16 was a new type of video game consul. They felt Giles shouldn't have worried about telling them, they could always download it when they got home.
‘There will, of course, be a full feature based on your adventures in the next issue of Daring Dooz’ (more cheers and whoop whoops).
‘And finally, I am pleased to announce that Daring Dooz and UFO News International will pay all your flight costs and expenses (enormous, prolonged cheers).
‘So now the excitement is over, we can all go back to our lives, just as they were before’ (standing ovation from those who were still able to stand).
It was a great speech. And everything Giles said was absolutely correct. Apart from the last sentence which, for some members of the happy throng, would prove to be as incorrect as any sentence uttered in the history of mankind.
Chapter 74
Still singing their song, which seemed to sound better now their voices were slurred, the Daring Doozers waved happy goodbyes to the villagers, jumped in the dinghies and helped each other crawl on board the huge flying boat.
The crew of the Hawaii Mars were anxious to be off, and no doubt, collect the rest of their payment, but the pilot came on the intercom and warned them he wouldn't take off at all, if they didn’t shut up.
So they did.
So he did.
Mrs Hathaway, Mick, Jim, Giles and Hamish stood on the pier and waved goodbye to the Hawaii Mars as it rose majestically up above the canopy, and headed east.
Digby didn't wave, he was gazing forlornly at Mrs Hathaway, and wondering if he ought to present her with a poem he’d written the previous evening.
It was originally called, Digby Desires Tallulah, but, on reflection, he felt that that was rather too forward, so he’d just written the initial letters at the top of the paper.
The poem read.
D.D.T.
Oh, Mrs Hathaway!
You take my brathaway!
You’ve zapped me with your zappa-ray!
Let’s walk together on life’s pathaway!
And have a laugh-a-day
I’ll even have a bath-a-day
D.D.T for ever - care of what I’ve got stashed-away
On re-reading it, now he was sober, he felt the sentiments were right on target, but, fortunately, was beginning to have doubts about the iambic pentameter.
He was shaken from these literary musings, by Mrs Hathaway shouting, “Come on everyone, this isn’t going to get the baby de-dribbled.’
They jumped into the remaining dinghy and headed off to the Catalina, leaving Hamish, just as the had first seen him, standing a
lone and still, on the end of pier, with just a trace of mist swirling around Zac’s partially sunken steamboat.
*
Mrs Hathaway sat in the cockpit, and checked the controls, while the rest of them found places to sit.
It was then, she realised she hadn't given Aubrey the good news that everyone was safe and that the bandits were no longer a problem.
She dialled the number.
‘St Bernard’s Police HQ, Chief of Police, Roberto Velazquez, how may I help you?’
‘Is Aubrey there?’
‘How do you mean - there?’
‘I mean, is he located in the Police headquarters - there’s only one room and two cells, if I remember correctly?’
‘Yeah, but there’s ‘here’ and ‘here’?
Mrs Hathaway had had enough.
‘Have you lost him?’
‘Well it depends what you mean by lost?’
Mrs Hathaway had had more than enough.
‘Roberto, I will be back at St Bernards within 24 hours, and you remember that Enfield Bin thing, well I’ve got a lot worse up my sleeve, and I’ll be glad to demonstrate the advanced techniques on you.’
‘He took his bass out for a walk last night,’ said Roberto, ‘he was looking for inspiration for some new songs he’s writing. It was a bad night, stacks of lightning, you know like big white sheets in the sky. Talk about a storm, I never seen anything like it, man.’
‘And what happened?’
‘He never came back, I’ve been out looking for him all day -honest - not a trace.’
‘Keep looking,’ said Mrs Hathaway, faintly.
‘And ring me if you have any news?’ She was going to say, ‘if you find anything,’ but the thought was too horrible to contemplate.
Mick and Jim came into the cockpit and, between sniffles, she told them the dreadful news.
‘You know,’ she said, ‘I’m not sure I can fly, I’m too upset about Aubrey.’
For once, Mick and Jim were genuinely concerned.
‘You have to do it Tallulah, the sooner you take off, the sooner you’ll be in St Bernards, and then you can sort things out.’
Normally, they would have been thinking the sooner she took off, the sooner they could be whooping it up down the Golden Legover - but this was serious, and their only thoughts were about organising a larger search party and getting Aubrey found.
After a few more minutes, Mrs Hathaway dried her eyes and came round to their way of thinking.
Just outside the cockpit, Digby listened with dismay. His beautiful Tallulah was spoken for. He walked away and, after a few minutes, dried his eyes, and came round to her way of thinking.
The anchor was hauled aboard, the engines fired first time and Mrs Hathaway turned the Catalina to face downstream. Soon, they, too, left the canopy far below. Mrs Hathaway selected full throttle and set a course she hoped would take her straight to Aubrey, wherever he was.
Chapter 75
The Amazon is a long way from anywhere. And after a few hours, and given the events of the day, it was little wonder Mrs Hathaway was becoming tired. It was dark, and she was still trying to come to terms with Aubrey’s sudden disappearance.
Normally, this would be a lovely night for flying. There was no moon to speak of, and you could clearly see the Milky Way, an immense streak of stardust splashed across the sky.
Giles and Digby looked out of the Plexiglass blisters and agreed. It was wonderful. Mick and Jim had a great view from the cockpit, although they always kept two, and sometimes four, eyes on Mrs Hathaway’s condition.
Suddenly, she straightened up, and breathed in sharply though both nostrils.
‘Right!’ she said. ‘That’s it! My eyes are closing. I’m going to have to put her down for the night. Don't worry, I have safe havens plotted on the sat nav.’
But Mick and Jim did worry. So did Giles and Digby. And so, a few seconds later, did Mrs Hathaway.
Because, as soon as she had spoken, there was a blinding flash of lightning. The night sky had gone, the Milky Way had gone. In fact, everything had gone.
The light was so bright, it hurt their eyes. Jim put his head down to his knees and covered his face with his hand.
‘If it’s another fucking tunnel, I’m getting out and walking.’
Mick instinctively picked up his videocamera and switched on. He pointed it at the cockpit window, although, as he squinted down the eyepiece, there was clearly nothing to see. Just this incredible, intense whiteness.
Mrs Hathaway switched on the intercom.
‘We’ve lost control,’ she said. ‘No engines.’
There was a slight pause while she calmed down a little and checked the instruments.
‘It’s not like the tunnel. I’m not sure how to say this but - we appear to be floating, straight up.’
By now, everyone was wide-awake. Giles and Digby squeezed into the cockpit, which was just as well, because the sight that was about to be revealed was nothing short of stupendous.
Imagine being inside a Super Bowl stadium, with a curved luminescent roof, then you’d have some idea of where they were. But it was difficult to see details clearly, because everything was incandescent.
After a minute or so, their eyes adjusted, and they could make out strips of flashing pink and gold lights, pulsating in zigzag patterns round the huge perimeter. There were immense vertical panels that throbbed green and blue and circular doors which, occasionally, opened to let out small silver craft which looked like - well - flying saucers, which skimmed silently from one part of the ship to another.
‘Bloody hell,’ said Mick.
‘Keep filming,’ said Mrs Hathaway.
‘I’m taking stills, as well,’ added Jim.
The Catalina was just a speck in this unbelievable space. But using the doors and coloured panels as reference, they could tell they were now drifting towards one end.
In the distance, they could see a horizontal band of light. There was no doubt, the Catalina was moving slowly towards it. It was as though whoever was doing the moving was being very careful with something very precious.
There was no sense of danger. Just a wonderful sense of peace. Almost a sense of spiritual awareness.
Even Jim came under the spell.
‘You know,’ he said, ‘if I was religious, this is what I’d want heaven to look like.’
Just then, the um-pah band started.
Well it wasn’t exactly an um-pah band, more a weird synthetic interpretation - but, despite the ear-busting volume, there was no mistaking the tune - Rule Britannia!
By now, they were getting close to the horizontal strip of light, which turned out to be a floor-to-ceiling window about 30 yards long. They could see small figures moving around and waving behind the glass, or whatever it was.
Then the messages started to arrive. Massive, three-dimensional, hologram-type phrases, flashed into the space between the Catalina and the observation window. The messages came fast, furious in all sizes and colours, holding for a few seconds in space, before exploding in huge balls of synthetic fire stuff. To say the least, they made interesting reading.
UGGLON W42:3 WELCOMES TALLULAH
AND FRIENDS
ENFIELD-BINERAMA!!!
BASH THAT SHARK, BABY!!!
WE LOVE DARING DOOZ!
NO MORE SHEET LIGHTNING LOL!!!
SORRY ABOUT THE TUNNEL!!! J
NICE BOOTS JIM - UR GR8!
MAKE MINE A MICK-MOBILE!
WWDDDDDDDDDDDD!
YOUR BIGGEST FANS ARE 4 FEET HIGH!!
MICK EL VIDEO SUPREMO! (CHATS VIDEO FFS!!)
NEXT CHALLENGE? SPILL THOSE BEANZ, GILEZ!
AUTOGRAPHS PLEASE MRS H!
IT’S NOT FOR ME. IT’S FOR MY FRIEND IN ALPHA CENTAURI (AS IF!)
By the time the barrage was over, the Catalina was right up close to the observation window.
The representatives of two civilisations a million light years apart looked into each others’ eyes. If
a great philosopher had been present, he would, no doubt, have commented eloquently on this unfolding interaction.
However, it was left to Giles, who came up with, ‘Bloody hell, they really are green!’
‘Know what?’ said Jim, ‘I bet they’re saying, “Bloody hell, they really are pink!”’
Jim was about to say that Mrs H was nut brown, but wisely decided this was not the time to start a squabble.
The little people were excitedly hopping up and down, clapping their three-fingered hands. The Catalina occupants smiled and waved back. Several were holding what looked like titanium autograph books and pointing to the pages. They had large, yellow, almond-shaped eyes, but unlike the standard illustrations of alien beings, they all had welcoming smiles. Perhaps it was because, down on the Earth, there wasn’t that much to smile about.
The whole thing had been a mind-warping experience for everyone.
To be fair, Mick and Jim had seen similar scenes in their Soho office - namely when passing through the twilight zone involved in recovering from a heavy night on the Woomera, seven-star, unleaded, bring-your-own-bottle sherry. Nevertheless, they kept shooting.
Giles’ eyes were popping out of his head - and having popped out, all they could see was Daring Dooz and UFO News International taking over the world. This was the big one he’d been looking for - only it was a million times bigger - the most incredible scoop ever!
For Digby, it was a thrilling, but quiet moment. He’d lost Tallulah, but here was a million boyhood dreams coming true. If only Dan Dare could have been around to see it.
Mercifully, Rule Britannia stopped.
Then, suddenly, massive flashes of pink and purple light radiated from side to side, across the observation window. After about 20 seconds, a booming synthesised voice announced.
‘1943 PBY Catalina flying boat occupants, we present our big, and, following some on-board clinical examinations, I really do mean big. The one and only - I know he’s our favourite, I know he’s your favourite and I know Tallulah’s taken a shine, please welcome the four-stringed wonder boy, Aubrey Capability Brown!’
The 1960’s hit, Mister Bass Man by Johnny Cymbal, began to blast out, and into the observation window stepped the recently abducted Aubrey, complete with oversized Hawaiian shirt and oversized baggies, with an oversized, shiny, red bass guitar hung around his neck.
