At the centre of a glade stood Alice.
Chatting with a tall white rabbit.
‘One,’ the colonel counted down.
Then all the Jovians fired.
34
think I hear people shouting somewhat,’ said Alice.
The white rabbit cocked an ear to the not-too-far-distant cacophony. ‘Hunters,’ said he, and he sniffed at the air. ‘In a nearby glade. I do believe that they might have shot one another.’
‘Serves them jolly well right, I think,’ said Alice.
Colonel Katterfelto did a body count. ‘Just the two dead, ‘said he. ‘Not bad for a first day out.’
‘Might I have a word or two in private, please?’ said Darwin.
‘Certainly, my dear fellow,’ replied the colonel, accompanying the monkey a little way off, where they might speak in private uninterrupted by the howls of pain emanating from a number of Jovians who had only been wounded, rather than killed. ‘What can I do for you?’
‘I understood,’ said Darwin, ‘in fact, you gave us all to understand that you have led big-game hunts before.’
‘Certainly have,’ said the colonel, lighting up a cigar. ‘Certainly have.’
‘Did many of the hunters actually survive?’ enquired Darwin.
‘Ah,’ said the colonel, puffing smoke. ‘See where you’re going with this. Did say that I’ve led hunts before—’
Darwin nodded thoughtfully.
‘Didn’t say that I was any damn good at it.’
‘Ah,’ said Darwin, whose thoughtful noddings were now joined by a facial expression indicative of enlightenment.
‘Pay’s rather good, though, you must agree.
Darwin nodded with vigour.
‘Anything else on your mind?’ asked the colonel. Darwin now shook his head.
The white rabbit was now shaking his head. ‘Foolish hunters,’ he said. ‘They cannot shoot anything here but each other.’
‘I think they will certainly try,’ said Alice.
‘And then they will certainly fail.’
Alice shrugged, but did not ask why. Instead she said, ‘Fancy meeting you again and here.’
‘Where else would you expect to meet me other than here?’ asked the white rabbit. ‘If I wasn’t here and you weren’t here, then neither of us could meet each other, could we?’
‘No,’ said Alice. ‘I suppose we could not. But I did not expect to meet you again here on this planet.’
‘It is where you met me before,’ said the white rabbit.
‘I met you before in Tunbridge Wells,’ said Alice. ‘I followed you down a rabbit hole.’
‘It might have looked to be that way,’ said the white rabbit, preening at his whiskers, ‘but just because a thing looks to be a certain way, that does not mean that it is a certain way.
Alice agreed that this might be the case.
‘It is the case,’ said the rabbit. ‘I met you here, because it was to here that you were brought.’
‘To Venus?’ said Alice.
‘To Venus. Your uncle unwittingly put magic mushrooms in your soap.’
‘Oh,’ said Alice. ‘I was drugged, so none of it really happened.’
‘Are you drugged now?’ asked the rabbit.
‘I do not think so,’ said Alice.
‘Then do not interrupt when I am talking.’
‘Sorry,’ said Alice. Who wasn’t really sorry.
‘You were kidnapped,’ said the white rabbit, ‘whilst in an altered state of mind. You were brought here to Venus upon two occasions.’
‘By whom?’ asked Alice. ‘And why?’
The white rabbit twitched his nose and said, ‘You ask too many questions.’
‘Was I brought here in a spaceship?’ Alice asked.
‘There you are, doing it again. But I will tell you this. Not because I need to, but because I wish to. The ecclesiastics of Venus have been kidnapping people from Earth for many years. They bring them here and try to teach them things. Special things. Spiritual things that cannot be learned upon Earth. Only here in a world that is still filled with magic. They wish to convert all the peoples of the solar system to their way of thinking. To enlighten them, that they might share the wonder.’
Alice gazed about at the beautiful glade. A four-winged butterfly settled upon a flower that was easily the size of a dinner plate. ‘It is very wonderful here,’ said Alice.
‘It is certainly better than where I come from,’ said the white rabbit.
‘So you were kidnapped, too?’
‘Where I come from we do not call it kidnapping,’ said the white rabbit. ‘Where I come from we call it abduction. Alien Abduction.’
‘Curiouser and curiouser,’ said Alice.
Cameron Bell was curious to know what all the shouting and howling was about. But intuition correctly informed him that it was not about Alice.
Mr Bell, who had not donned tropical kit, took off his dinner jacket and fanned at himself He was growing rather hot. All this walking, he supposed. Exercise was all well and good, but if he was to be having a bit of a holiday here upon Venus, he really would have preferred it to be mostly a sitting down in deckchairs and drinking gin and tonics sort of holiday. Not a tracking a wilful woman through uncertain terrain sort of holiday. Oh no, not that at all.
Cameron Bell ran his fingers over his naked scalp. He really should have worn a hat. He was prone to over-perspiration. Hatbands absorbed perspiration. That was one of the major points of hatbands.
Cameron Bell suddenly said, ‘Now now now.’ His mind was sorely wandering, as was the wilful woman. He glanced at his hand and viewed the Ring of Moses. Now what was he to make of that? A magic ring? A ring that could carry magic? The real Ring of Moses? Moses the Venusian? ‘My mind wanders,’ said Cameron Bell to himself ‘Because I do not believe that this case is truly ended. The Death character might well have been pecked to oblivion by the kiwi birds, but there is more to the case than him. I do not believe that he killed the Music Hall bill-toppers. I do have a theory regarding that, but it is a theory that must be put to the test. I suspect the involvement of another. A powerful individual who seeks even more power. But here I am upon Venus chasing after a foolish female.’
The private detective sighed. He had no control over the situation. He had no idea precisely how long he would be here. He had no idea precisely how much trouble he would be in when he returned to Earth. He had no idea about so many things.
But at least he was dressed for dinner.
And although it is never really wise, if you are all by yourself in a potentially dangerous environment, to draw attention to your location by shouting, Cameron Bell considered that shouting might draw greater returns than aimless wandering.
‘Alice,’ called Cameron Bell, most loudly. ‘Alice, where are you?’
‘Someone is calling your name,’ said the white rabbit. ‘I suppose that you had better go.
‘It is Cameron,’ said Alice. ‘He will be worrying about me.’
‘You are lucky, then,’ said the white rabbit. ‘No one ever worries about me.’
‘Your mother must have worried,’ said Alice.
‘My mother was a rabbit,’ said the rabbit. ‘Mother rabbits just make more rabbits. More and more rabbits. That’s what they do. If they were to worry about each rabbit they gave birth to, they would certainly worry themselves into an early grave.’
‘I suppose they would,’ agreed Alice.
‘So I will say goodbye for now.’
‘You do not have to,’ said Alice. ‘You could come back to the spaceship with me if you want to.’
‘I am far too shy,’ said the white rabbit. ‘And your hunter friends would surely try to shoot me.’
‘You said that they would not be able to shoot anything other than each other.’
‘Well, at least you were listening. But I will say goodbye to you and see you again soon.’
And with that the white rabbit vanished.
Ju
st like that.
‘Don’t put on a tourniquet like that,’ said Colonel Katterfelto. ‘Around a chap’s arm, perhaps. But never around his throat.’
The surviving Jovians, who had not been wounded, were making poor work of applying the field dressings from the colonel’s first-aid kit (which, with uncanny forethought, the colonel had brought along with him).
‘Let me do it,’ said this gentleman. ‘And Darwin, stop swigging from my hip flask. Victims only, doncha know.’
Darwin offered the hip flask to a Jovian with a hurty-stump.
‘Not a banana in sight,’ said the monkey. ‘I think that we should all go back for tea.’
‘Dear Cameron,’ said Alice. ‘I thought you were bringing out a deckchair and a gin and tonic for me.
Cameron Bell shook his head most sadly. ‘We had better go back now,’ he said.
‘I heard shouting,’ said Alice, who was not making any particular motions towards joining the private detective in a stroll back to the spaceship. ‘I do believe that some of the hunters might have injured themselves, or others.’
‘Happily,’ said Cameron Bell, ‘that is not my responsibility.’
‘Am I your responsibility, then?’ asked Alice.
‘Would you care to be?’ Cameron Bell surprised even himself with this question.
‘A lady likes to have a gallant protector,’ said Alice. ‘Come on, I’ll race you back to the spaceship.’
‘It is not in that direction.’
But Alice was off once again.
The big-game hunt had not got off to a particularly good start, all things considered. No big game had actually been bagged, two Jovians were dead and three more quite badly injured. Colonel Katterfelto had created a triage system to judge the seriousness of what had occurred.
Number One, which was to say the highest category, was, of course, death.
Number Two, an injury serious enough to soon elevate the injured party to the Number One category.
Number Three, the loss of some body part previously considered vital, but whose loss did not in fact lead to death.
Number Four, anything else.
So far there were two Number Ones, one Number Two and two Number Threes. Which the colonel still considered not bad for the first day out. As he and the remaining hunters limped back towards the spaceship, hauling makeshift stretchers, he thought he would get a bit of a community sing on the go as a morale booster. He chose that evergreen popular Music Hall standard: the ‘Two-by-One’ song.
An anthem in praise of planed timber, approximately two inches by one inch, but sawn to any length you might require.
As the verses were quite long and complicated, he stuck to the chorus, which went:
The two-by-one,
The two-by-one —
That’s the stuff for you, old son.
You’ll have laughter,
You’ll have fun
When working with the two-by-one.
It’s a marvel of the age,
The greatest of them all.
The four-by-two is much too large
And the one-by-one’s too small.
It certainly had the desired effect and soon all the Number Four survivors were laughing once again.
The colonel, Darwin, the walking wounded and the rest met up with Alice and soon after with Cameron Bell.
All were somewhat surprised and a tad disheartened when they returned to the landing site and found that the Marie Lloyd was missing.
35
one,’ said Colonel Katterfelto. ‘The spaceship has upped and gone.’
Darwin the monkey gibbered mournfully. Alice thought it most queer. No laughter came from the Jovian hunters. Most looked rather downcast.
Cameron Bell sat down on a rock and viewed the landing site. He viewed the lichen, the trunks of the trees, the foliage high above.
Alice sat down beside Mr Bell and gave his arm a squeeze.
‘Do you think we will be marooned here for ever?’ she asked him. ‘Do you suppose that I will have to become Eve to all you gentleman Adams?’
Cameron Bell was made speechless by this.
‘I want to go home,’ said Alice.
‘And I too, sweet lady,’ said the private detective. ‘When I choose to do so. It is all a most curious business.’
‘Curiouser and curiouser?’ said Alice.
‘Decidedly so. Because although the spaceship is not here, it cannot have left.’
‘Why not?’ asked Alice.
‘Because I have this.’ Cameron Bell exhibited a large brass key. ‘Call me a suspicious fellow,’ he said, ‘but as the spaceship represents our only means of transport back to planet Earth, I had no wish for it to leave without me.
‘Why would that happen?’ asked Alice.
‘I can think of a number of reasons. Which is why, when I returned to the spaceship to gather deckchairs and drinks, which you will notice are also missing, I availed myself of this key. I believe the technical term for it is the ignition key. The spaceship will not fly without it.’
‘But clearly it has,’ said Alice.
Cameron Bell shook his head. ‘Let us suppose that another ignition key exists — and I do not believe that one does — how would you explain the marks left upon the lichen by the weight of the spaceship when it rested there?’
Alice stared. ‘There are no marks,’ said she.
‘Precisely. Which is why I say to you that the spaceship never left.’
Others were gathering now about Mr Bell, either intrigued or annoyed by his conversation.
‘What exactly are you saying?’ asked the colonel.
‘I am saying that the spaceship never left.’
‘Hate to contradict you,’ said the old soldier, ‘but as you can see — or as you cannot — there is no spaceship. It’s gone.’
‘I perceive by the lower buttons of your jacket that you are a gambling man,’ said Cameron Bell, and the colonel grunted in assent to this. ‘Then I will wager you one hundred pounds that you cannot walk from here directly to those trees over there.’
‘To beyond where the spaceship stood?’ asked the colonel.
Cameron Bell brought out a handkerchief and dabbed at the head he was nodding.
‘One hundred pounds?’ The colonel glanced at Darwin.
Darwin shrugged his shoulders.
‘Just to walk from here to there?’
‘In a straight line, yes.’
‘Then you have a wager, sir.’ The colonel extended his tanned and wrinkly hand. Cameron Bell gave this hand a good shaking.
‘In your own time, then,’ said the private detective.
‘Man’s a damn fool,’ said the colonel.
‘Hold hard, if thou pleaseth,’ said a Jovian hunter, who had this very afternoon acquired the new nickname of Stumpy. ‘Canst anyone take this bet?’
‘Certainly,’ said’ Cameron Bell. Giving Stumpy’s stump a little shake.
Colonel Katterfelto and three chuckling Jovians set out to earn themselves an easy one hundred pounds each at the expense of a private detective who had clearly been out in the shafts of sunlight for a little too long.
Darwin eyed the private detective. This man was no sun-struck fool, he felt sure.
‘Excuse me, please,’ said the monkey of space.
‘How might I help you, Darwin?’ asked Mr Cameron Bell.
‘My feelings are,’ said Darwin, ‘that you are about to win the bets. But please assure me that in doing so no harm will come to the colonel. He may lack for certain necessary skills as the leader of a big-game hunt, but I do consider him to be my closest friend.’
‘If I am correct,’ said Cameron Bell, ‘he will experience nothing more than a headache. If I am incorrect, however, I have no idea how I will pay him his winnings.’
The detective and the monkey looked on.
And one at least was surprised by what happened next.
There came a sound as of a wooden ball striking a coconut after
a well-thrown hurl at a fairground shy.
‘Damn and blast!’ cried Colonel Katterfelto, staggering backwards and falling down in a heap.
‘Blasteth also,’ came further cries, to the accompaniment of further such horrible coconut-striking sounds.
‘Quite as I suspected,’ said Mr Cameron Bell, making the very smuggest of faces. ‘But as to how it is done, I do not have the foggiest idea.’
‘They hit their heads upon nothing,’ said Alice. ‘Oh no —I understand you now. Not upon nothing, but upon something that we can no longer see.’
‘Precisely,’ said Cameron Bell. ‘The spaceship is there, but somehow quite invisible.’
‘It is the glamour,’ said Alice, with wonder in her voice. ‘The glamour of Fairyland. It can be nothing else.’
Darwin’s face wore a helpless look.
Alice tried to explain. ‘It is magic,’ she told the monkey. ‘Upon this magical planet, magic really works. On Earth many people, perhaps myself included, believe in the fairy folk. They are said to have magical powers, one of which is called the glamour. They can make things appear to be other things. Or not appear to be there at all. I find it rather wonderful. But it also makes me afraid.’
‘I wonder,’ said Cameron Bell, ‘whether the spaceship is invisible on the inside. Come, Darwin, I shall collect my winnings and then we shall both find out.’
The Marie Lloyd was not invisible on the inside. And once Cameron Bell had explained to the losers of the bet that someone or something had placed a cloak of invisibility about the spaceship, the spell appeared to be broken and the exterior of the ship in wavering rainbow patterns came once more to be seen.
Which Alice for one considered to be something of a shame. Because it was, after all, a rather ugly spaceship and it did spoil the view of the valley.
‘Which I suspect might well be the point,’ said Cameron Bell, over dinner. ‘I am coming to the conclusion that magic thrives upon Venus. Perhaps the very planet itself is magical. And this, believe me, is radical thinking upon my part. I am a man of Earthly logic and although scientists of Earth in their arrogant bravado would seek to explain the universe and its origins, I am of no such ilk. I am of the opinion that this planet does not want us upon it. I am of the opinion that it would be in all of our interests to depart this world as speedily as we might.’
The Mechanical Messiah and Other Marvels of the Modern Age Page 23
