Leaning forwards in his chair, Mr Perkins responded with “No. You owe me a month's rent in lieu of notice! I’ll have that, or else!”
Mark leant forward and picked up a glass paperweight, a souvenir from the Vatican gift shop. With the aid of his phase shift armour, he squeezed the paperweight until, with a loud crack, it disintegrated into crushed glass. Mark let it trickle through his fingers into a pile on the desk.
Mr Perkins gave out a squeak and jumped back in his chair.
“No notice.” Mark repeated.
“No notice.” Mr Perkins agreed in a tremulous voice.
Mark turned to leave and Gerry stood up. “I’ll walk down with you Mr Brennan.”
He led the way downstairs and stopped at the door.
“So what are you? Special forces?” Gerry asked Mark.
“Sort of, I was, er, an adviser to a special forces unit.”
“Thought so.” Gerry grinned. “That was a good trick with the paperweight. How did you do it?”
“If I told you that, I’d have to kill you.” Mark said.
Gerry grinned again. “Course you would. Good to meet you Mr Brennan.”
Mark realised that that Gerry thought he was joking.
Gerry stuck out his hand, Mark shook it and said “Good to meet you too Gerry. Why don’t you get a proper job? You don’t need to work for that weasel Perkins. You’re better than that.”
“Yeah, I’ve been thinking about joining the army. Maybe I will.”
“There’s no time like the present Gerry. It could be the making of you, it was for me. Go to the recruiting office now and sign up while the idea is fresh in your mind.”
“Yeah… Yeah, I think I will. Thanks Mr Brennan. Maybe I’ll meet you again in the army.”
“It’s possible.” Mark said, although he knew that it wasn’t. “Good luck.” He said, as he got into the taxi and as they drove off, he saw Gerry standing, watching him leave.
The Name Of The Beast
The taxi took Mark to the industrial area where his shuttle was parked. He told the taxi driver that he didn’t need him anymore and paid him off for the days hire.
He walked briskly to the shuttle and returned to his ship, then blinked straight to the command centre. There was no sign of Mike but Sally was sat at the oval meeting table.
“How did you get here!” Mark demanded.
“And I'm really pleased to see you too.” Sally replied with a smile. “Will you always be as welcoming as this when we’ve been away from each other for a day or two?”
“I’m sorry, but I’m surprised to see you so soon. I thought you’d be away for a couple of weeks.”
“I realised that I didn’t need to be there in person to organise the re-structuring, I can do all I need to do now by virtual reality meetings. I’ve promoted De’Nesh to Colonel and myself to General. He’s a good man, I know I can trust him and he can handle all the day to day stuff.”
“But how did you get here?”
“Alan brought me.”
“I thought you didn’t like him.”
“He has his uses.”
Mark sighed. “He may be a bit strange, all of you aliens are, but he is well meaning and a good person. You are such a good judge of character I don’t know why you can’t see that.”
“Mmm. Maybe. Anyway, I’m here now. If I am going to make myself at home, you’ll need to authorise me to have full access, otherwise I’ll just wander the corridors like a lost soul.”
“Got that Kate, access to everything except weapons and navigation.” Mark said to his AI.
“Done.” His AI replied.
“Where’s Mike?” Sally asked.
“I’ll get her.” Mark messaged her, and she blinked in.
“Hi Sally. You weren’t long. I thought I would have more time to myself.” Mike said.
“You can have as much time to yourself as you like. The ship’s big enough for you to have all the room you want and you need never see us.” Mark told her. “Now you are both here we can have a naming ceremony. I’m not going outside to break a bottle of champagne over the bows though.”
Sally and Mike looked at each other, then looked at Mark.
“It’s an old Earth custom. Anyway, I name this ship, The Swift!”
“The Swift?” Sally asked. “Why would you call it The Swift? Why not just call it The Quick?”
“Or the Bloody Fast.” Added Mike.
“Not the adjective, the noun. It’s a type of bird. It eats insects and flies around in the summer, screaming.”
“Shit, you have those too?” Mike said. “We used to have birds like them on my home planet. Bloody great things with vicious talons and huge toothed beaks. They could take an adult, and no children were safe when they were about. We killed all the bastards well before we became emergent though.”
“That sounds terrifying!” Sally exclaimed. “Why would you want to name your ship after one of those?”
“No, they’re small birds, wingspan of about fifteen centimetres and fairly short bodies, with a forked tail. They’re really attractive. They eat small flying insects. They are very elegant and fantastically good fliers. They hardly ever land, they even sleep in flight. If they land on the ground, they can’t take off again, so it means that they will die, unless someone rescues them. Their call is a sort of high pitched ‘screee’. They only come to England in the summer. I love to watch them flying around, and their calls remind me of hot, lazy summer days.” Mark said with a wistful smile.
“So you do have some happy memories of Earth then?” Sally asked.
“Yes, I guess I do.” He replied.
“OK.” Said Mike. “The Swift it is. I still think it’s a strange name.”
“It’s better than Mother.” Mark responded.
“That’s true.” Said Sally. “But I thought that you’d named that too.”
“No, I just… Oh never mind. Shall we leave?”
“Where are we going?” Sally asked.
“I’ve been thinking about that, It’s going to be interesting.” Mark grinned.
The ship blinked out.
—————— The End ——————
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Unwilling From Earth Page 50
