Galactic Keegan

by Scott Innes

  ‘Who’s my lawyer?’ I asked – and then right on cue, the door opened behind me and a portly man in a Hawaiian shirt and combat shorts bustled in, a sheaf of folders under one hairy arm. He had long hair at the back but was bald at the front – he looked like a sweaty Terry Nutkins. The only good thing I could say about him was that he was brave enough to wear socks and sandals together, a sartorial combo that society had wrongly shunned but for which I remained a proud standard-bearer. No one needs to see your manky toes, thank you very much.

  ‘So sorry I’m late,’ the horrendous-looking man said in a thick southern-US accent. He had a whistle in his nose when he exhaled which I could already tell was going to drive me absolutely potty.

  ‘Please don’t say you’re my—’

  ‘Your lawyer,’ the man said, extending his hand to shake mine as he sat beside me, scattering his folders and paperwork all over the floor as he did so. ‘Bill Attick.’

  With a heavy sigh, I shook his pudgy, clammy hand and glanced across the table at General Leigh. I knew that smirk would be on his face before I even saw it.

  ‘Shall we crack on?’ Attick suggested amiably. ‘I can’t imagine this’ll take too long.’

  ‘I never hired you,’ I said, trying not to let my distaste at this poor state of affairs show. ‘I don’t even have a lawyer.’

  ‘I was employed by one…’ Attick consulted his notes, squinting, ‘Gerald Francis. You know him?’

  ‘Aye,’ I grumbled. ‘Wish I didn’t. He hasn’t been in to see me once.’

  ‘Oh, he’s tried,’ Leigh said. ‘Tried to scale the gates to the base at one point. We had to taser him.’

  ‘Christ – is he okay?’

  ‘That’s when he contacted me,’ Attick explained. ‘The General is free to prohibit visitors to his prisoners but cannot rebuff an Alliance-appointed lawyer.’

  ‘Bully for you,’ I said miserably.

  ‘Shall we begin?’ suggested the woman, who had been sitting quietly all the while. ‘As Mr Attick observed, this oughtn’t take long.’

  ‘Open and shut case,’ Leigh said.

  ‘My name is Helen Brody; I’m the appointed litigator for the Compound command force, of which the General is leader. Mr Keegan, you are here today, a prisoner, on suspicion of espionage. Is there anything you’d like to say?’

  ‘No comment,’ Attick muttered in my direction.

  ‘I’ve plenty I’d like to say,’ I blustered. ‘First off, can you turn up the air con in here? It’s boiling. Secondly, I’m not a spy. I wouldn’t even know where to begin. I may hate this toad of a man sitting here with me—’

  ‘I’m doing my best,’ Attick said, wounded.

  ‘I mean the General,’ I sighed. ‘I may detest that oaf with every fibre of my being for what he’s done to my beloved football club, but I would never put my hatred for him over my love for my species. For my home planet. For all mankind. I’m a patriot. You ask anyone – ask Brian Laws, ask Les Reed, Robbie Martínez. They’ll tell you.’

  ‘That’s a very impassioned argument,’ Brody said coolly. ‘But it doesn’t change the fact that no sooner was the General’s lockdown announced, you immediately sought to leave the Compound. You, whose loyalty to his football club is known far and wide.’

  ‘Purely circumstantial,’ Attick said. ‘I really hope that’s not the best you’ve got.’

  ‘It’s more than just circumstance,’ Brody went on. ‘There is no justifiable reason why someone as committed to his role here on Palangonia as Mr Keegan would attempt to flee as soon as the news broke that there was a spy in our midst. And there’s also the question of his behaviour. Mr Keegan has been personally abusive in his language to the General on numerous occasions.’

  ‘Have I heck,’ I snorted, waving a hand dismissively. ‘Give me one example.’

  ‘You referred to him as a toad not one minute ago,’ Brody replied.

  ‘That was a one-time thing,’ I insisted.

  ‘You then went on to call him an oaf. Again, this was barely a minute ago.’

  ‘Figure of speech,’ I mumbled and then fell silent. Best to know when you’re beaten.

  ‘This still doesn’t add up to enough,’ Attick said. ‘It’ll never stand up in court. You have not a sniff of proof that my client, Mr Coogan, was—’

  ‘It’s bloody Keegan, come on,’ I said, exasperated.

  ‘—was in any way connected to this spy business. What I’m seeing here is two people with a vendetta against one another and the fact that it’s come to this sorry situation should be a cause for embarrassment on both sides.’

  I felt suddenly heartened by Attick’s defence of my position. Brody seemed momentarily lost for words.

  ‘Do you realise quite how much of a march the L’zuhl have on the Alliance at this moment in time?’ Leigh said testily, leaning forward across the table. ‘They’re one step ahead of us with everything we do at the moment – and it’s all thanks to this damned spy.’

  He glanced at me. I shrugged. Not my problem.

  ‘At the Battle of Fallak, they knew exactly what numbers we would be bringing and they outmatched us. We were vanquished and had to fall back. Laika was en route to the Alliance headquarters at The Oracle for a meeting of the Assembly and there was a L’zuhl assassin already in wait. Fortunately, she survived with only a grazed paw.’

  I hadn’t heard about that. Even I knew that the loss of Laika would have been an enormous blow to any prospect of victory against the L’zuhl. She had been the first dog in space back in the 1950s and, after floating away into the vast darkness of the cosmos, had developed super-intelligence and an unnaturally long life. (That old chestnut.) Now, she was one of the most respected figures in the galaxy, a noted academic and decorated politician, and her guidance and leadership at the highest levels of the Alliance was crucial. It’s like when Sir Al finally retired after twenty-six years at Manchester United: lightning simply does not strike twice. Unless you’re Dave Seaman playing golf – he was struck sixteen times in one afternoon and still bought a round at the club bar afterwards. The man’s a diamond, he really is.

  ‘I didn’t know that about Laika,’ I said, a slightly tremulous note to my voice. ‘I’m glad she’s okay.’

  ‘Sure you are,’ Leigh sneered.

  ‘Let’s try to keep this civil,’ Brody interjected.

  ‘General, this still does nothing to implicate my client – these are a number of unfortunate incidents at which Mr Coogan was not even present.’

  ‘You want proof?’ Leigh said, suddenly looking a little rattled. ‘Did you not hear what happened just last night in the Adelphi Six sector? The Alliance moved a fifth of its arsenal there in order to use the Frelf wormhole to transport them over to The Oracle – and as soon as they arrived at Adelphi, they found a L’zuhl battalion awaiting them. Thousands upon thousands of lives were lost in the ensuing dog-fight. Mr Keegan, the spy, fed this information to them. There is no way they would have known about our strategy otherwise. This decision was made by me, at a meeting held within these four walls of the Compound just this Tuesday. By foul means, Keegan evidently infiltrated the room and passed on our plans to his paymasters.’

  ‘Absolute hogwash, that,’ I said, shaking my head. ‘Nowt to do with me whatsoever. You’re better than this, son.’

  ‘How is that proof?’ Attick asked again.

  ‘I know it in my bones,’ Leigh said. ‘Keegan is the spy. And I’m going to keep him rotting in that cell until I find some incontrovertible evidence. And believe me, I will find it.’

  ‘Well, if that’s where we’re at, that’s where we’re at,’ Attick said, folding his paperwork away and tucking his pen into the top pocket of his ridiculous shirt.

  ‘What, so I can go then?’ I asked. ‘I mean, he has no proof, after all.’

  ‘Go?’ Attick frowned. ‘Why, of course not. General Leigh is calling the shots here. Until you’re ruled out as a suspect, if indeed you ever are, you’re here at his ple
asure. I can’t do anything about that.’

  ‘This is a travesty!’ I cried. ‘I’ve seen some injustices in my time but this takes the bloody cake!’

  Leigh gave me a cold look and stood up alongside Brody.

  ‘It won’t be so bad, I’m sure,’ Attick said, placing a meaty, sympathetic hand on my shoulder. ‘You’ve just got to keep a positive attitude.’

  ‘And in the meantime, you’ll try to find proof that I’m not the spy, yeah?’ I asked hopefully.

  ‘What?’ He seemed genuinely surprised. ‘No, of course not. I only do this part time; I’m back at the day job this afternoon. I make birdhouses.’

  I deflated like a football after an Al Shearer piledriver.

  ‘All the best, Mr Coogan,’ he said. ‘Tomorrow’s Friday – you’ve managed almost a working week inside already. The months and… well, yes, most probably years will fly by.’

  I felt like crying right there in the interrogation room. Leigh had won. He’d destroyed Palangonia FC and now he’d broken Kevin Keegan too. I couldn’t face a fifth day inside. If the L’zuhl really were on the warpath as the General claimed, I didn’t want my fate to be sitting in a cell watching mankind crumble to nothing around me. Hearing that many thousands of lives had been lost the night before was horrifying, even without the responsibility being laid at my feet. Christ, what would my lads think of me when I copped the blame for that? I mean, it’s not like I could even— Wait one damn minute!

  ‘Attick!’ I cried, and my idiot lawyer/birdhouse maker paused in the doorway and looked back at me.

  ‘You okay?’ he asked, sounding concerned.

  ‘Okay?’ I asked. ‘I’m better than okay, son. I’m a free man. Get the General back here right now!’

  THE LIGHT BULB

  ‘Kev! So happy to see you!’

  Gerry fired off a party popper right in my face; I winced and pushed him away.

  ‘Let’s try to keep some dignity, please,’ I scolded him.

  Still, it felt absolutely fantastic to walk back into my old flat again. The black-and-white striped Newcastle United wallpaper, the weird damp smell that I couldn’t shift. I was home. Gerry had crudely put up some decorations around the walls and had hung a large banner that read GOOD LUCK, KEV! which I’m pretty sure he’d recycled from the time I went on Celebrity Mastermind in 2011. That was a catastrophe by the way – no one told me you were allowed to pass on a question, so when I didn’t know the answer to the first one I just sat there in silence for two minutes.

  ‘You look pretty good, considering,’ Gerry observed in a backhanded-compliment sort of way. ‘I thought you’d be all emaciated and have tattoos on your face and all that.’

  ‘I was only in for four days,’ I said – though it had felt like a lifetime. I couldn’t help wondering how this experience would change me, the psychological damage it might have inflicted on my personality. Would I ever be the same Kevin Keegan again?

  ‘There’s a buffet in the kitchen,’ Gerry said, leading me through.

  ‘Cracking,’ I said. ‘I’ll tell you, honestly, I will love it if there are those battered prawns on sticks – love it.’

  In the kitchen, to my surprise, were many more familiar faces. Alongside Barrington12 stood Rodway, who beamed as I came in. Squeezed in like sardines around the small table were all my lads – Gribble, Little Dunc, Wiggins, Nightingale and several more, including two or three whose names I’d never quite caught and was too embarrassed to ask. I was swelling with pride (and also from being a bit backed up after four stressful days in the clink). Standing in the corner holding a glass of wine was Gillian. I was astonished when she approached and gave me a peck on the cheek.

  ‘It’s so good to have you home,’ she said, smiling warmly. ‘I was horrified when I heard what had happened, I really was. I’d have come to visit you in there immediately, but I’ve been stuck in endless Council meetings. I repeatedly tried to call a vote to have your arrest rescinded given the flimsy evidence the General had on you, but he carries a lot of sway on the Council and boy, does he know it.’

  I had to admit, I was rather surprised by this. The idea that Gillian had pulled out all the stops to try to secure my release… could that really be true? Or was she merely making excuses after the fact for her own inaction, to pretend that she had never doubted me?

  ‘Thank you for trying,’ I said eventually, still feeling dazed. ‘Hello, everyone.’

  ‘And so say all of us!’ said Gerry. Trust him to make me look a tit in front of them all.

  ‘Great to have you back, gaffer,’ Rodway said through a mouthful of caramel éclair. (It was a bit rude that they’d all cracked on with the buffet before I’d arrived, but I thought better of saying anything.) ‘Hasn’t Gillian done you proud with the spread?’

  ‘Gillian made all this?’ I asked, astonished. I reflected again on what she had said a few moments earlier. Maybe, just maybe, she really was on my side after all.

  ‘Hidden talents I guess!’ Rodway said. ‘We’re all just so glad to see you home.’

  ‘And you,’ I said, trying to blink back the tears that I could feel welling behind my eyes. ‘All of you. It’s fantastic to have your support at a time like this. My name’s been dragged through the mud this past week.’

  ‘I’d have loved to have seen the look on old Leigh’s face when you broke the news to him,’ Gerry said with a delighted cackle.

  Leigh had turned a worrying shade of grey when I called him and Brody back in and put the blindingly obvious fact to him: if the attack on the Alliance arsenal the night before had been as a result of someone leaking those plans to the L’zuhl, how on Earth could it have possibly been me? The meeting in which Leigh and the Alliance had made their plans to move ships to Adelphi Six had been on Tuesday night. I’d been in the nick since lunchtime on Monday. I was exonerated. Leigh was completely unapologetic (apart from when he begrudgingly apologised to me as I was released) and looked more worried about the fact that his work in catching the spy would have to continue than about my own welfare. Typical. Always thinking about himself.

  ‘Serves them all right for making up this whole spy nonsense in the first place,’ Gerry said.

  ‘No, I’ve changed my mind on that part at least,’ I corrected him. ‘I did initially believe it was all a ruse, a plot to undermine the football club, but having heard what I did during my interrogation, I’m sure it’s the real deal. I’m just glad they can rule me out.’

  ‘Wow,’ said Gribble, my lanky centre-half, so tall that his hair was scraping the ceiling, his neck at an awkward angle. ‘Who would want to sell us out to the L’zuhl like that?’

  ‘Not me, that’s the main thing,’ I reiterated. Still, my realisation that the spy was real had somewhat dampened my mood. I’d been utterly convinced it was a ploy to get at me. Now I had to face up to the reality that my football club had in actuality been chucked on the scrapheap for legitimate reasons.

  ‘That really is it, then,’ Gerry said glumly, picking a strawberry from a cheesecake on the table. ‘If the spy is legit, we’re not getting our funding back.’

  Later, as Gerry showed an appalled Gillian his taser battle scars, Rodway came over and spoke in a conspiratorial whisper.

  ‘Gaffer,’ he said. ‘Are we still on for… for the plan we discussed? About getting out of here to move to that new club? Once the lockdown is lifted, I mean.’

  This was something to which I’d been giving a great deal of thought myself during my incarceration – and seeing my lads huddled in the kitchen of my tiny flat to welcome me home had only confirmed and vindicated the decision I had privately made. (A decision which, by the way, was in no way influenced by the fact that Moyesie’s team had secured an emphatic midweek win in Galactic League D during my time inside and his job was suddenly less precarious than it had been.)

  ‘Palangonia is our home, Rodway,’ I said. ‘We can’t walk away from what we’ve built here.’

  ‘But—’

&nbs
p; ‘I’ll admit I got carried away and perhaps spoke to you about it when I should have still been weighing up my options. But it’s the coward’s way out. We have to stay. We have to stand and fight.’

  ‘I do admire your dedication, Kevin, I really do,’ Gillian said, wandering over. ‘But while this spy is at large, there’s no prospect of the club’s funding being restored. And, as you’ve witnessed for yourself first-hand, the guards have nothing to go on. He, or she, is out there somewhere. But they clearly have no idea where to start looking. The bottom line is, short of you going out and finding that spy yourself, Palangonia FC is not coming back any time soon.’

  In a flash, a light bulb was suddenly illuminated above my head.

  ‘That still playing up, is it?’ Gerry said, squinting at the ceiling. ‘Mine does that sometimes. I’ll see if I can get someone in to fix that for you.’

  ‘That’s it,’ I said. ‘Gillian, you’re a genius.’

  ‘Am I?’ she said, bemused. ‘That’s not exactly the tune you’ve been singing this past year, I must say.’

  ‘I’m going to save Palangonia FC. And if it helps win this stupid war at the same time, then so much the better.’

  ‘You’ve lost me,’ Gerry said blankly.

  ‘First thing tomorrow,’ I said, ‘I’m going out into the Compound. And I’m not coming back home until I catch that bloody spy myself.’

  TO THE LIBRARY

  At dawn, I rose quickly and, after a handful of stale crisps from the half-eaten buffet in the kitchen (which no bugger had stayed behind to help me clear up, by the way), I headed out. It wasn’t the most nutritious breakfast given the big day I had ahead of me, but then again Gary Lineker has been contractually obliged to eat Walkers crisps for every meal since 1995 and look at him. The man’s an Adonis.

  I went down to the ground floor of Accommodation Block 8-B. The blocks were a proper Upstairs, Downstairs arrangement – the bigger-name celebrities and important public figures were housed in the swanky upper floors and even had a special lift that bypassed the riff-raff on the lower floors. The hierarchical system was disgraceful and I wanted no part of it. Having said that, I was on the twenty-second floor of sixty in Block 8-B and it was my life’s quest to get myself moved higher up. No disrespect to people like Jimmy Carr or Michael Portillo, but do they really outrank a genuine public servant like Kevin Keegan? Exactly.