by James Goss
Eloise crossed over to a small bench beside the Tree. It was cluttered with equipment that may as well have been labelled ‘Science’. Some of it looked like it had been there for over twenty years, but in amongst it all was a shiny new laptop. She stroked it fondly.
‘Sebastian, the real one, was always afraid to use this,’ she said, with a sad smile. She worried away at some wiring, grinning. ‘It communicates with the Juniper Tree, with its creators. Sebastian always said he didn’t really need to talk to them to know what their intentions were. I don’t know how you’d describe the Juniper Tree best… a space probe, I guess. But this could chat with it directly. It’s based on the technology we used to genetically re-engineer the Scions. But it can use the Tree to relay a message. To phone home.’
‘How long before they reply?’ asked Tom. ‘And what the hell would you say to them?’
Eloise flashed all of her wonderful American teeth. ‘Ahhh, well, there’s only ever been one thing to say,’ she said, dusting off a microphone and plugging it in to the laptop. It hummed with a warmth of feedback that caused the Juniper Tree to stir loudly. She tapped the microphone and the Tree rustled.
There was an air of expectation. Then Eloise spoke.
‘We have your children.’
Rhys
Convoy! We were on our way, stepping out of the pub. Some people had even got wheelie luggage, the buggers. No one in the history of the world has ever made a stealthy getaway with luggage on wheels. I was carrying a baby in a papoose along with a bag of nappies, and I was a ninja by comparison.
It felt weird leading the charge, but someone had to do it. And it would be me. Well, me and Nerys.
‘Come on, yeah?’ she said, holding the door open until all the hot air rushed out of the pub. ‘Let’s get a move on.’ She looked magnificent. I’d forgotten how much I missed seeing a Welsh lass in war paint. ‘Andalay! Andalay!’ she cried, grabbing hold of someone’s luggage.
There’d been talk of forming a committee. Of hiring a bus. Of trying to see if we could get through to anyone in authority. The shoddy realisation that PC Tony Brown had already left the village told us all we needed to know. There’d be no help on the way. We were on our own.
It helped that most people were either pissed or in shock. There’d been a small fight between a couple of people over whether or not it had really been that great an idea to pour most of a bottle of vodka down poor Davydd, but he’d stopped projectile vomiting so at least it wasn’t so much of a problem getting someone to share a car with him.
I wondered, briefly, if Moses had it like this when they headed out into the Red Sea. ‘I mean, yeah, OK, so Pharaoh may be chasing after us, but I was wondering if we shouldn’t just do something about food. I know Paddy’s got a few pizzas in the freezer out the back. We could warm them up no trouble…’
Give me strength.
What I really mean by that is Give Me Gwen.
Anwen slept cautiously, waking up occasionally to loudly complain at the absence of her mother. I knew just how she felt.
‘Can’t you shut her up?’ snapped someone. ‘It’s like a siren.’
‘This is what real babies are like,’ I growled, more angrily than I’d meant. I stopped, feeling a bit guilty. Not the time.
So, we started to weave our way out of the pub.
They waited until we were all on the green before they started advancing towards us.
Thing about a small Welsh village, not much street lighting – just the stars. And the glowing eyes of a dozen alien kids. They started to march across the village green, scything through the flowers. All together. Coming our way.
Someone screamed. Someone fell over.
‘Everyone back to the pub!’ I yelled. Somewhere inside my head, I found that funny. But it really, really wasn’t.
Gwen
‘We have your children.’
Even standing in the hangar, the reaction was immense. The rustling of the Juniper Tree became an agitated murmuring. There was a nervous tang in the air. I had the horrible feeling that we had the Tree’s full attention, and it was far from happy.
‘Listen,’ said Eloise, her voice defiant, ‘and pass this message on. We have your children. They are under our control. We don’t want to harm them. But they may be in danger.’ She paused and addressed the tree. ‘And tell them about us. Tell them about the humans as a species and about what we are using their children for.’
The leaves rustled and stirred like a storm was coming.
Eloise stood back. ‘There,’ she said, pleased. ‘I wonder what will happen next.’
I felt appallingly worried. I wasn’t a trained xenobiologist, but I knew damn well how I’d feel if someone rang me up to say they’d got Anwen and were experimenting on her. My reaction wouldn’t be all that rational. I don’t believe I’d think it through. And thank god Rhys didn’t have any nuclear warheads.
One of the things that happened next was that Sebastian came in. He’d changed out of the suit. Or grown a different one. It was more like an army uniform. His face had changed as well. The neatly combed hair was now shaved to stubble, the placidly handsome face was sharper. And he looked angry. Ever so angry.
If he looked like a military commander, he behaved more like the spoiled kid who finds someone playing with his toys. ‘Why did you do that?’ he demanded.
Eloise turned around. ‘Sebastian,’ she said softly, ‘I… need to get us help.’
‘Why?’
‘Because… because I’ve made a mistake,’ Eloise halted, standing up to him with all she could. ‘Oh, I am so genuinely sorry. You’re not… I’m afraid of you.’
Sebastian took this with a dangerous calm. ‘You made me this way, Mother. I am supposed to be a military leader. I have my army. My orders are clear.’
‘Really?’ Eloise looked alarmed. ‘I made you, but I didn’t give you orders.’
‘No,’ sneered Sebastian, ‘but Jasmine did. Your function ended as soon as you birthed me. Jasmine now deals directly with me. She has issued me with orders and I am fulfilling them.’
‘What orders?’
Sebastian paused. For a second his face wore the smugness of a child going ‘I’ve got a secret.’ Then his lips thinned. ‘The village is finished. I am ordered to rationalise it. To close it down. So I have decided that everyone is going to die.’
Rhys
They started hammering on the door of the pub. We were trying to block it with a fruit machine, but then there were the windows to fasten and the back door to bolt and…
Look, it was a stupid zombie movie situation.
Then it went quiet. That was worse.
All of us, huddled together – the few dozen people of Rawbone, clustered in heaps, waiting. Some were crying quietly. Some were just ashen. Nerys had lit a fag. Josh was helping a semi-comatose Davydd, putting his head between his knees.
Anwen started to wail. People stared at me.
‘What?’ I said. ‘It’s not like they don’t know we’re in here.’
Then I understood why Anwen was crying. It swept across the room – a wave of thought, pressing down on us like a rush of water. The children didn’t need to get in. They could just walk into our minds.
Other voices joined in with Anwen’s, crying out in fear. Mrs Harries stood up, shaking, shouting that we had to try and think positive thoughts or something – but that was obviously doomed. The negative always wins out.
Paddy and Nerys were screaming at each other at the bar. Paddy was yelling: ‘They can’t get in, they can’t get in!’ He was waving a bottle around.
Nerys was bellowing back at him, telling him not to be so stupid.
Bottles broke and shattered.
Nerys was fighting Paddy for something.
I could see people clutching their heads and falling to the floor.
Nerys was still howling with rage.
I felt my brain pushing out at my eyes. The blood pounding at my head. I was passing out.
‘They can’t get us!’ he roared, and sparked up the lighter.
As I sank to the floor flames danced everywhere. I held Anwen to me. Trying to keep my eyes open…
Gwen
‘The village will be destroyed,’ announced Sebastian.
‘You can’t!’ shouted Tom.
‘I’m doing it already. It’s so easy. The children have turned on their parents.’ Sebastian grinned happily. ‘The village was dying anyway. No one’s noticed it for so many years. We won’t even need a cover story. The post will stop coming, the bus routes will change. And that will be it. No one will come looking for the bodies. And by that time…’ He stopped.
‘What?’ gasped Eloise.
‘No,’ grinned Sebastian proudly. ‘It’s a secret.’
No it bloody wasn’t. By the time anyone got around to wondering what had happened to Rawbone, it would be far too late. Sebastian and his small army of soldiers were going to start killing and they weren’t going to stop, whatever Jasmine ordered.
I think we’d all worked that bit out. Sebastian’s firm bearing. His cold eyes. His childish smile. He didn’t need to say it. He was having too much fun.
He addressed himself to Eloise. ‘So, you’ve tried telling on me to Mummy?’ He smirked. ‘The Tree obeys me.’
‘No,’ said Eloise. ‘Your real parents. The creator of the Tree.’
For an instant, Sebastian faltered, then recovered. Like he had some time left. ‘They’re so far away. They are so very far away. Why should they care? And even if they do, it’ll take them ever so long to get here. No one’s coming for you.’
‘Sebastian,’ I said. ‘Do you… do you really enjoy this? Is this what you want?’
‘Yes,’ he nodded. ‘It’s glorious. My real parents would be so proud of me.’
He stepped past us, almost as though we didn’t matter, and took the controls from Eloise’s hand. She handed them over without protest. That was it. She was done.
He held the laptop and smiled carefully. ‘I have come here to order more brothers and sisters,’ he announced. ‘We shall swarm across this land.’
Strange what you fear about aliens. That they’re going to land on our world and destroy it. Sometimes that’s true. But sometimes, we do terrible things to ourselves.
Sebastian reached forward and worked the computer.
Above us the tree surged into terrible life, the leaves twisting apart, revealing buds. Hundreds of swelling buds.
Rhys
‘Stop!’
Well, there we go then. I didn’t die after all. That’d be something to tell the baby later. Better get on with the job of living. I opened my eyes.
We’d got out of the pub. Turns out Paddy had done the right thing for the wrong reason. You know how they tell women to cry ‘Fire’ not ‘Rape’ when they’re being attacked because people always turn and look? It’s a basic instinct. We’ve a primitive fear of flame that overcomes everything. The fire spread quickly, but not half as quickly as we moved.
It was bloody chaos, true enough, but Megan Harries and Josh took charge. Megan grabbed as many people as she could, shoving them towards the back door. Josh pulled Paddy away from the flaming bar. Somehow, we kept it together, despite the panic crowding into our heads. We rushed towards the back door, pouring out – we were running, screaming and yelling, spilling out onto the wet gravel of the pub car park and sinking down.
Of course, in some ways, that was a mistake.
The Scions were waiting for us.
The whole crowd of children stood there, silent and threatening. Ready to kill at any moment. But not. Not yet.
‘Stop!’ repeated the voice. A girl’s voice. No, a woman’s voice. Strident, authoritative. In command.
The children stepped aside. Standing there, silhouetted in the flames of the burning pub, was the short figure of a schoolgirl.
‘Jenny!’ I cried.
I couldn’t read her expression. She marched towards me, and I realised the others had gathered around her like a guard of honour. I could hear each tread of her sensible shoes as she approached. Strange how the brain filters sounds. She didn’t say anything, I couldn’t see if she was smiling. Her head was tilted slightly to one side. Curious. Or appraising. Or…
‘Get up, please, Mr Williams,’ she said, gently. I noticed again she sounded more mature. She reached down a hand and helped me up. I saw her face for the first time. Lit by the flame, she looked more confident. Gone was the empty-eyed placidity of earlier. Instead, her eyes were clear and focused and the smile was no longer empty. Her round, soft face now looked more angular, and I could have sworn she was wearing make-up. There were flowers in her hair, such beautiful flowers.
‘Oh,’ I said.
‘Hello,’ she said.
‘Makeover?’ I asked.
‘Mentally,’ she nodded. ‘Sorry about earlier, I was working through some stuff. My head is so jumbled. So many thoughts. It’s difficult being a grown-up.’ She turned to face the village. ‘Hello, Everyone! Good evening. I’d just like to reassure you that you’re all going to be OK. I realise that might take some believing, but can you have a go for me, yeah? I’ve got a lot on.’
‘Jenny!’ cried Mrs Meredith. ‘What do you mean? What’s happened to you?’
‘Hey, Mum!’ Jenny beamed. ‘It was time for me to grow up. What happened earlier made me realise that something was wrong. I couldn’t be a child for ever. And the other children here needed a leader. There is one more of us – up at the Weather Station. He wants us to be angry warriors. I don’t agree. I want us to be normal children.’ She paused, and her smile was confident, self-aware. ‘We won’t get that right, but then being a kid isn’t about being perfect. We’re going to try to be better from now on.’
The other children nodded, all at the same time. Behind them the pub burned away. Not perhaps a great symbol of a new dawn.
‘Anyway,’ Jenny continued, ‘I know that’s quite a lot to take in. So we’re going to go away now. We must go to the Weather Station. See you later.’
She turned around and strode off, and the children of Rawbone followed.
There was a silence apart from the crackle of burning building.
‘OK, then,’ laughed Megan Harries. ‘Curious comes in all sorts of colours these days.’
‘Bugger me,’ said Nerys.
Then the heavens opened. And I mean literally opened.
Gwen
The sky boiled. Remember that ‘It could be you!’ lottery advert – kind of like that. The roof of the hangar was torn off. The sky above us seethed with red clouds, glowing and reaching down, pouring light into the hangar. The Juniper Tree stirred and stretched up into the sky which cascaded down around it.
It was, I have to say, bloody impressive.
Sebastian rocked back, hand clamped to his head.
‘They’re not following me!’ he gasped. He spun round and faced Eloise. ‘Why not? What’s wrong with them? What’s happened to them?’
Eloise shrugged. ‘I don’t know. Perhaps… perhaps you can only push their nature so much. You’re a step too far, Sebastian.’
Sebastian shook his head. ‘No!’
The Juniper Tree started to shake along with Sebastian, going from a rustle to a roar.
‘No!’
The voice, when it came, leaked through a loudspeaker. As a voice it was strange, a product of an ancient piece of machinery.
We all stood back.
‘No!’ repeated the voice. ‘We have received your message. What has happened here?’
‘Evolution!’ cried Sebastian, proudly. ‘Humanity has taken your seed pods and is making them into a mighty army. Even now this seed bank is birthing my brothers in arms. We shall be a mighty force. We shall reach out across the whole planet. We shall give it to you.’
‘We do not want it,’ said the voice.
‘What?’ Sebastian looked startled.
; ‘We are explorers. Not soldiers.’
‘I don’t understand,’ Sebastian cried.
‘Not soldiers.’
‘But… but then why was I created? Haven’t I pleased you?’
‘The children were designed to adapt to their surroundings, to learn. What kind of world is this?’
‘A violent one! A gloriously violent one!’
‘Not a world for us.’
‘I can make it a world that you’re proud of.’
‘Who did this?’
In desperation, Sebastian grabbed hold of Eloise. ‘She did! She ran the experiments! She created me! She made me!’
The sky shifted and the Juniper Tree reared up. The whole sky was squinting down, glaring balefully at Eloise.
‘Oh my god,’ she said. ‘I was just doing what I was told to… what I was made to do…’
The voice made a thunderous noise. ‘You stole our children. You ruined them.’
Eloise hung her head. ‘Yes,’ she said, sadly.
‘Why?’
‘Because… because I was asked to.’
‘Why?’
‘It was glorious!’ yelled Sebastian, furious at being ignored.
‘No,’ shouted Eloise. ‘I tried not to… but I ran out of excuses.’
‘Excuses?’ The voice rattled the speaker. ‘That is not how we do things.’
‘No,’ said Eloise, sadly.
‘Wait!’ cried Sebastian. ‘I can make all this right for you!’
‘Will you give us back our children?’
‘Yes!’ said Sebastian. ‘And I shall give you this world.’
‘Why would you do that?’
‘What other reason could you have?’ Sebastian looked puzzled.
‘Wait!’ called Eloise. ‘I can try! I can try and make them good again!’
‘NO!’ screamed Sebastian. He hit Eloise brutally. She fell back, gasping in shock.
The strange voice gasped. ‘What did you do?’
Sebastian grinned up at the tree. ‘It was all her fault. I punished her!’
