Episode 7

Ben was standing inside the editor’s office waiting patiently for his next assignment. The recent events had given this reporter a new view of tortured reality, and it was a view he seriously did not like.

“Ever heard of the Saskatchewan ape man?”

Ben rolled his eyes and said, “Who hasn’t? That story came to an end in the twenties when some bloke admitted to faking it.”

“The story is up and running again my boy. Allow me to introduce you to someone.”

The editor pressed an under desk button and moments later the door opened and a very strange bloke walked in.

He was tall and graceful, sporting an Australian floppy hat and a safari jacket. Tufts of long hair hung around his shoulders as he smiled at the reporter.

“Hunter John,” Ben said with some distaste.

“You know of me then?”

“I made a note never to meet you.”

“Tell him what you know,” the editor insisted.

The big game hunter pulled a tuft of stringy hair from his pocket and handed it over.

“I found strands of this along the north slopes and deep depressions that only an ape man could make.”

“Sure you didn’t make those yourself?”

The hunter was offended by the suggestion.

“I take my profession quite seriously. That hair is genuine enough.”

Ben rubbed it between his fingers and muttered, “I certainly don’t recognise it, but anthropology was never my strong point.”

“I want you to accompany him on a short safari. I need photos and a body.”

Ben looked at his boss in shock.

“You want to kill it?”

“It would make a great edition.”

“If this ape man is genuine sir, killing it would be a crime against nature and science.”

“Those are my orders Ben,” the editor insisted. “Now off you two go.”

The hunter led the reporter out to the car park and pointed to the safari style four by four.”

“It’ll take an hour to get there but this baby can climb anything.”

Ben climbed inside as the hunter settled down. The engine was gunned and he took the north route out of that peaceful sleepy hamlet.

Once the town fell behind, the landscape became wild and rugged as the climb began toward the north slopes. At a junction, the vehicle turned onto a dirt track and approached the tall and quite ancient pine forest.

“Nearly there chum.”

“I just hope that this is not a wasted trip,” Ben muttered as the vehicle came to rest.

Stepping out, hunter John opened the rear and produced a high velocity hunting rifle and a shoulder band of ammo.

“You could stop an elephant with that.”

The happy hunter smiled gently.

“It came in handy during my sojourn in Africa. Follow me.”

Ben watched him hike off into the dark woods, and shrugging his shoulders began to follow.

“It was along this trail that I found that hair,” the hunter commented.

“Do you come here often?”

“Every chance I get mate. Nothing like the wilds you know.”

A sudden sound of flapping wings made Ben’s heart leap into his mouth.

“That was only a bird mate. You should try to calm down.”

The path veered left and the hunter suddenly pointed to a low branch. When Ben reached it, he saw the wiry ball of hair hanging loosely.

“There is more of it,” the hunter commented.

Ben examined it before snapping a couple of photos with his phone cam.

“You could still have placed it there.”

The proud hunter shook his head and muttered, “As if I would.”

They lowered their heads as the incline continued until the trapper stopped dead in his tracks.

“Get lower my friend.”

Ben knelt, as the hunter appeared to hear something.

“There is something nearby,” he whispered.

The reporter strained his ears and heard a soft tramping from somewhere far ahead.

“Could be hikers.”

“It could also be our ape man,” John suggested. “Let’s follow eh?”

They crept forward until the hunter hissed.

“There are clear tracks here. You had better photo these.”

When Ben joined him, he saw the deep imprint of a four-toed animal that was clearly not human. He snapped away before saying, “They certainly look genuine, but who knows for sure?”

The trapper moved forward slowly until he hissed again.

“Well what do you know? We seem to have an encampment.”

They moved toward a circular series of stones and around it what seemed like simple stone tools.

“Reminds me of cavemen,” the reporter said softly.

“I think that is proof enough my friend,” John commented as he examined the circle closely.

The reporter snapped once more and gazed around.

“I can’t seem to hear anything now.”

The hunter placed his fingers to his lips. A soft tramping seemed to be approaching slowly.

“He’s coming our way. You want a body? Your editor will soon have one.”

Ben watched as the hunter disengaged safety and levelled the rifle in earnest.

“You just cannot kill it.”

“Then close your eyes mate. I’m a hunter remember? Not one of your damn zoo keepers.”

Ben saw something dark appear about a hundred yards distant and saw the fingers close around the trigger. He lunged forward, driving the muzzle into the air as the rifle barked once.

The hunter responded by striking with a balled fist that knocked Ben onto his back.

“That a stupid act my friend,” John hissed.

Ben wiped the blood from a cut lip and saw the something peering at them.

“It appears to be curious about us.”

The trapper ignored this and rapidly reloaded from his ammo belt. As he did so, a sudden growl from the rear startled both of them.
Ben swung around just in time to see a large hair covered humanoid bearing down upon them.

“Damn it!” John yelped as an arm smashed Ben to one side.

A pair of strong hands tore the rifle from his hands, before he too was smashed into dark oblivion.

When Ben came too, he was moaning loudly.

“Oh my damn head...”

When there was no response, he opened his eyes slowly and saw the flint-crusted cave of his new home.

“Where are you John?”

One of the humanoids heard his plea and approached carefully. Ben crawled back as the seven-foot biped eyed this human suspiciously.
Ben saw the dark wiry hair and the strange orange glow of its eyes. A pair of ears grew from the side like humans but the jaw was built for tearing raw flesh.

“Nice to meet you,” the reporter stammered.

The animal simply grunted and hobbled into the darkness in the manner of an ape. Ben could not see the cave mouth and rightly concluded that he was deep within.

“I hope my camera still works.”

He took it out and started snapping at the cave wall. A sudden growl made him stop at once.

The humanoid returned from the darkness and grabbed his arm roughly. He was dragged into the darkness and finally thrown down when the rear wall came into view.

As it lurched off once more, the reporter spotted the bones.

“I just hope those are animal.”

He crawled toward them and a quick scan convinced him that these were human. After all, the skull was a dead giveaway.

“Now I’m in serious trouble. I have to get out of here.”

He managed to snap a few photos before the animal lurched back into view. Within its right hand hung a bloody piece of meat. Ben could guess whom that came from.

To his surprise, the animal tossed it toward him and watched for his expected reaction. When the reporter did nothing the animal began to demonstrate.

He watched the right hand move to the jaw and simulate chewing.

“I can’t eat that,” Ben protested. “We don’t consume our own species.”

The creature moved forward and picked the meat up. It suddenly lashed out forcing Ben onto his back before squatting over him. As his hair was gripped painfully, the bloody remains of trapper John was smeared across his trembling lips.

Ben kept his mouth tightly closed as the humanoid pressed a little harder. Ben tried to struggle but the animal’s grip was quite lethal. After a few moments, the humanoid gave up and dropped the meat in apparent disgust.

As Ben lay panting, the creature lurched off toward the cave mouth and soon returned with a large piece of carved stone.

As it raised its arm, Ben realised that his skull was in imminent peril.

TBC...

Episode 6

Ben opened his eyes slowly and saw his familiar friend gazing down at him.

“Try and keep your hair on mate.”

“What are you?”

“I’m not a little green man from Mars my friend. I’m an ally, a friend if you like.”

“Then those magazines are...?”

“A perfect cover of course. My job is to protect you lot from marauding aliens.”

Ben sat up slowly as his friend waited with infinite patience.

“We grew up together. Went to school together. We even masturbated together.”

Kevin shook his head slowly.

“I created those false memories to protect my cover. Now do you want to rescue that woman or not?”

Ben stood up and nodded grimly.

“Then we must return to my lousy home first. My car is outside.”

As they drove back toward Nevis Road, Ben could not stop staring at him.

“You will get used to it sooner than later. Believe it or not, you need me.”

The car drew up and the old friends dashed out. As Ben found himself once more inside the untidy room, Kevin led the way into the second storeroom.

“What’s in here?”

Kevin smiled at him and tapped the rear wall softly. Ben was stunned as it slid open to reveal a squat silver craft.

“You have a shuttle?”

“Not quite that my friend. Hop aboard.”

A hatch swung open and Ben seated himself upon a red leather seat as Kevin prepared for launch.

“You’ll feel a slight jerk when she activates.”

The jerk duly came and as the roof vanished for a second, the craft hurtled rapidly toward the vacuum of space.

As the g-force increased, Ben began suffering breathing problems.

“Don’t worry,” Kevin assured him. “It will pass shortly.”

The atmospheric envelope was breached, and Ben gazed around at the darkness of space and the blue planet below.

“It looks lovely.”

“So it does now let me see.”

He tapped a control and said, “Now your scanners cannot detect me. So where have they put it?”

Ben had no idea and kept quiet as the craft swung around in a vast circle.

“I think we have found them mate.”

“I don’t see anything.”

Kevin smiled.

“Trust me, the craft is directly ahead. Now I need to activate an override signal.”

As he did this, a huge craft came into view and an immense door swung open. Derek guided his craft inside and landed gently inside the bay.

“Just wait until it pressurises mate.”

After five minutes, the external pressure was equalised and the hatch swung open once more. As they emerged, a familiar voice accosted them.

“I see we have visitors.”

Ben froze as Kevin glanced around.

“We need the woman right now.”

The voice seemed to laugh softly before Ben was forced to his knees.

“You can cut that out for a start,” Kevin protested.

“Little man,” the voice replied. “You are surprisingly naive. You are no threat to us.”

He felt his own legs buckling and desperately resisted.

“My cards are fully loaded!”

As he sank down, he pressed his gold ring and yelled, “Thirty second countdown!”

The pressure suddenly relaxed.

“What do you mean by that?”

Kevin pointed toward his small craft.

“Automatic destruct sequence my friend. Twenty seconds.”

Ben struggled up, gazing around in mounting terror.

“I cannot die here!”

“Calm down and have a biscuit.”

Kevin stared at nothing until the voice relented.

“She will be brought here.”

Kevin pressed his ring again and audibly sighed.

“I’ll wait here then.”

There was no sound from their antagonist as Ben stopped shaking at last.

“That was some bluff.”

“I don’t bluff mate. It did the trick. Frenier shall be released and we can return home.”

A far wall vanished and a confused woman staggered through. Her body now wore a plain gown that her captors had supplied.

“At least you are okay,” Ben said running to grab her.

“How did you two get here?”

“Never you mind,” Ben said leading her back to his friend.

“You have what you came for,” the pleasant voice said.

“There is just one more condition attached,” Kevin said.

“You are really pushing your luck.”

“You can take others if you wish but this woman must be left alone.”

There was an ominous silence.

“You can’t trade me for others,” the woman protested.

“I have no choice mam. Now be quiet.”

“It is agreed,” the voice said at last. “Now leave whilst you can and be warned. “A second arrival shall have unfortunate
consequences.”

Kevin turned and led his companions back t the waiting craft. As he adjusted the controls he muttered, “That was just a little too easy.”

The pressure dropped and the great doors slid open allowing the craft to slide into space once more. As soon as they were clear, energy bolts burst around them.

Kevin jammed the control forward, sending the craft into a rapid descent.

“Firing thrusters now.”

The bolts failed to hit as the nose cone turned a bright red.

“Re-entry underway. A little nose up I think.”

He pulled back and the rattling stopped, as friction was reduced to relatively safe levels. All too soon, the familiar hamlet came into view.

“Retro-thrusters in operation,” Kevin muttered as the craft breached the force field and landed safely.

“Everyone out.”

As the hatch swung back, the three companions stepped out and walked back into the familiar room. Kevin closed the hatch and led them into the untidy lounge.

“I don’t have to warn you both concerning my secret.”

“Never worry,” Frenier said. “I won’t say a word.”

“What about Harris?” Ben asked.

“Frenier can just say the aliens released her unharmed.”

“I can do that.”

They shook hands and after departing, they walked arm in arm toward her waiting home.

“What a day this has been,” she muttered.

“Not one of my favourites.”

“Fancy helping me finish some wine?”

Ben smiled at her and whispered, “I think that would be lovely.”

TBC...

Episode 5

Ben and his reluctant detainee Frenier, gazed at their bleak surroundings in blank astonishment.

“This is not where they put me last time,” she said.

Ben was too shocked to reply. Everything he had believed now stood in smoking ruins.

“What do they plan for us?”

She patted his shoulder sadly.

“I already told Shelley that mate.”

Ben walked to the greyish wall and slammed his fist against it. To his surprise, the strange material seemed to bounce under the impact.

“I don’t think this wall is quite solid,” he muttered.

“Must be a force field then.”

He turned and gazed upon her calm face.

“You are taking this rather well.”

“I have no choice remember. At least I did not find myself tied to a table.”

He slid down the wall and placed his hands upon his knees. When she joined him he said, “You better tell me about it.”

She nodded and told the rather gruesome tale.

“It began about five years ago.”

“I would fall asleep and find myself lying on a table being raped by something I could not see. At first I thought these were only dreams until bruises began to appear.”

“You had bruises?”

“Along my thighs and bottom at first. Then along my tummy. That is when abduction came to mind. What concerned me was the simple fact that I really enjoyed it. Every time it happened I would climax.”

“I can just about understand that.”

“So last year I told Shirley and you know the rest.”

Ben nodded sadly.

“Can you accept my apologies?”

“That is okay with me. Any normal person would have scoffed.”

“You say these beings are invisible. Energy perhaps?”

“I really cannot say mate. Science was never my strongpoint.”

Ben sighed.

“I suppose we just have to wait until our captors are ready for us.”

“I wish they would get on with it,” she muttered. “It’s a bit like sitting at the dentists listening to the drill.”

He smiled at the obvious similarity.

“Welcome to our ship.”

The prisoners gazed around for the source of that soft and pleasant voice but saw nothing.

“Is someone with us?” Ben asked.

“We are phased out so that our appearance will not frighten you.”

“What are you like?” Frenier asked.

“Your language is too restricted for your understanding.”

“Why are we here and why torment this woman?”

The soft voice seemed to laugh.

“We are not tormenting her Ben. We simply give her pleasure.”

“You know my name?”

“Your poor mind is like a sieve. Of course I know your name.”

Frenier stood and tried to push her overgrown glands down.

“I would like these abductions to stop.”

There was a pregnant pause that gave her hope, until the nightdress was suddenly shredded.

“Oh no...” Ben muttered as her body came into full view.

“Our tests cannot be halted because of moral considerations. Our only promise is that neither of you shall be harmed.”

“Then leave her alone.”

He was suddenly forced to his feet, and his clothes quickly joined hers.

As he stood naked now, covering his bits as best he could, Frenier was forced down by some invisible force that neither of them understood.

“Do this thing for us,” the smooth voice said.

“Go and get stuffed!”

The woman’s substantial thighs were forced apart, and Ben was levitated into a horizontal position over the helpless body.

“Don’t do this thing!”

His protestations were in vain however. He was quickly stimulated and lowered on top, before his manhood plunged into that salty cavern.

He tried to stop his hips moving but the force compelled him to do so. Frenier hugged him tight as the sweating bodies clanged together at a somewhat frantic pace.

He felt that familiar surge as he climaxed inside her womb, before he was unceremoniously hauled off.

“We have enough now,” the voice said.

Ben was pinned to the wall as he watched the woman fade before his horrified eyes.

“Where are you taking her?”

“For further tests of course Ben. Thank you for your cooperation.”

Ben was just about to reply when he found himself back at home, naked as the day he was born. He grunted loudly and located the mobile easily.

“Is that you Derek? Get over to my place pronto. The greenies let me go.”

He disconnected and dashed into the bedroom looking for new clothes as he prepared for his friend’s arrival.

“I’ll wear my funeral suit. I’m in that kind of mood. My car can wait.”

He had only just finished when the doorbell rang and he rushed to open it.

“Am I glad to see you again,” he said giving him a hug.

“Harris popped around to see me. I’ll tell him you are safe after you fill me in.”

Ben led him into the lounge, and as they sat upon the sofa, his story came out.

“Then I was here.”

“It sounds like a bio programme to me. Some attempt to create a hybrid species.”

“You told me that aliens don’t go around bonking people.”

Kevin lowered his eyes in shame.

“I was proved wrong okay.”

“Will she be returned?”

“She told you that her experience started five years ago, and this voice promised her safety. We have no choice but to believe them.”

“I feel so damn helpless.”

“Not surprising after what happened to you both. I better check in with that cop. He seemed quite concerned.”

“He would be,” Ben replied.

After the call was made, Kevin grimaced.

“He is on his way. Apparently your car has been impounded.”

“I think that is the least of my problems. I now have the scoop of
the century but my editor will bin it.”

“Either that or Harris will quote national security,” Kevin reminded him.

The door knock came and Harris entered with a wide grin upon his face.

“Glad to see you in one piece Ben. I need to know everything for the record.”

Ben sighed and related the details as the detective took notes.

“Sounds to me like a nightmare.”

Ben nodded.

“One I’m glad to be out of.”

“This friend of yours indicated we would never see you again.”

Ben glanced toward Kevin.

“Thanks very much.”

“They found two piles of wood ash mate.”

“Obviously to throw others off the scent,” the reporter concluded.

Harris nodded in agreement.

“I’ll keep her home under surveillance. As for your story...”

“You want it kept out of the paper,” Ben muttered.

“At least for now mate,” Harris mumbled. “I’ll give you a lift back so that you can have the car.”

“That’s kind of you but should we not be trying to rescue her?”

Kevin glanced at Harris and said, “We certainly don’t have that kind of tech mate. Don’t you worry though. She’ll turn up okay.”

Ben and his friend followed the detective out and the reporter was soon en-route to the compound.

“Did you solve the puzzle of Shelley’s demise?”

Ben shook his head.

“Kevin suggests it was an abduction gone wrong, but that’s just his theory.”

“Then why not tell me?”

“I cannot answer that one mate.”

The car stopped and Ben climbed out as Harris tossed him the keys.

“Now I have this report to fill in.”

“I feel sorry for you mate. Your bosses won’t like it.”

“They probably won’t read it. Take care eh?”

As they parted, Ben swung around.

“Hey Harris?”

“Yes?”

“If she turns up can you let me know?”

“I was planning to mate. Now get yourself home, and if that editor of yours raises hell, tell him to phone me.”

Ben climbed inside his car and gunned the engine. Reversing out, he
headed home with wild thoughts running through his fertile mind.

“I wonder what happened to that apparition I rammed?”

He drew up outside his home and noted that Kevin was waiting outside for him.

“Still here I see.”

“We need to talk mate.”

Ben screwed his eyes at the comment.

“I’ve told you everything I know.”

“There is something that I need to tell you Ben.”

The reporter opened the door and led him inside the lounge.

“Out with it then?”

“Allow me to demonstrate.”

The figure of Kevin began to shrink and shimmer, until a four-foot bald grey being with two large hand digits stood before him. As he stared into the oval dark eyes, the reporter fainted.

“Oh that’s just great. A typical human response.”

Jerrix opened his tightly closed eyes and realised that he was still alive. He scrambled to his feet, checking his black fur and scratching the bib of white hair below his throat.

“Well would you believe it,” he muttered to himself.

He quickly checked his gold throat clasp and shoved a paw into the deep pockets of his blue cloak. He sighed with relief as he found the fork shaped device that he usually carried.

Standing around five foot high, he glanced around with his yellow eyes and spotted a large star shaped machine glinting in the late sun.

“Siphonans,” he gasped diving behind a convenient bush.

As it drifted off, he picked himself up and saw the sea between the mainland and Holy Island. The causeway was hopelessly flooded. His agile mind played back recent events. Arriving on earth to find the planet under occupation, the link up with the resistance and his subsequent surrender. He also remembered the mysterious work camp, still wondering what the overall plan was.

“I can’t stand here preening myself all day,” he muttered. “I had better return to my ship.”

He remembered leaving it near Holy Island castle, now reduced to rubble. As quickly as possible, he set off in that direction. Jerrix Tau continued to glance about as he looked out for the occupying power. Thankfully, they thought he was dead, which was to his advantage.

At last, he spotted the soft green glow situated on the stony ground and he scrambled towards it. The door slid open and he padded across the blue squashy floor toward the waist height metallic dome.

“Now, how will I do this?” he asked, scratching his ear.

His eyes wandered over the four metallic cat statues that stood at the cardinal points. Behind each one, a lever was well hidden.

Jerrix was in something of a quandary. After all, he had never done this before.

Removing the fork like device from his coat pocket, he adjusted the dial before padding over to the south statue and inserting it into the slot. He breathed deeply as he pulled the lever down, watching as rays of light beamed out from the eyes of the statues. He followed their direction and saw a deep glow.

“No time like the present,” he muttered padding into it.

As he did this, being bathed in the light, his feline form was enclosed in a human form. The light vanished as the cat checked himself over. He liked the loose blue top but cringed at the pink trousers and shoes. He noted too, that he had something like a beer-belly and padded over to the wall where hidden drawers were located. He pulled one open and found himself a mirror.

“Crikey,” he said as a new face beamed back. This face had dark eyes, and rather chubby cheeks. His nose looked squashed as if it belonged to a boxer, and as for his bald top, well...

He put the mirror down and closed the drawer again.

“At least no one will recognise me now.”

A sudden thought passed through his mind.

“I hope Smitty does not shoot me.”

Jerrix poked his head out of the open door. The coast was clear. He spotted the route he had taken previously and ran in that direction, praying the machines would not spot him.

He finally reached the white painted homes and the many closed shops as he slowed to a walk. The street was fairly tight, as many of the roads were on this idyllic island.

He passed the spot where he and Gerry had been halted at gunpoint, until he saw the open track that led to the abandoned farmhouse. He had only gone a few short yards when a gunshot rolled towards him.
He threw himself down before cursing.

“Some welcome.”

He looked around and spotted the young man dressed in grey wool jacket and dark trousers running across the field towards him. He also saw the loaded weapon.

Jerrix sighed and stood slowly as the gent approached.

“What you doing here?” the armed youth demanded.

Jerrix scowled.

“Coming to see Smitty my boy. Now, let’s go.”

Terrance was so surprised by the response that he lowered the weapon and followed him to the squat brick farmhouse. Everyone turned as he walked inside.

“Found him heading our way,” Terrance said. “Wants to see you Smitty.”

“Does he indeed,” the former pilot said.

Jerrix recognised the tall thin officer and his grey clothes. He extended his hand, which the leader shook.

“You must want to join us?” Smitty asked. “Any military experience?”

Jerrix ignored the question and asked, “Been to that arms dump yet?”

“How do you know about that?” Smitty asked suspiciously.

“You been spying on us then?” a grey haired chap asked.

Jerrix faced the former policeman.

“No I have not Crispy. Spy indeed. I am Jerrix Tau.”

There was an understandable silence.

An overweight schoolboy in a bright red school uniform stood up from the kitchen chair. He brushed back his dark spiky hair and said coldly, “You look nothing like him. What game are you playing mate?”
In desperation, Jerrix reached into his deep pocket and produced the fork like device.

“After surrendering, the Siphonans shoved me out of an airlock.
Thankfully, the prison ship beamed me back to the causeway. Naturally, I had to disguise myself so I returned to my ship. It was then that I created this bio matrix shell. As far as our enemies are concerned, I no longer exist.”

He paused for breath, waiting for the response.

“Why should this prison ship help you?” Smitty asked.

“Because I saved them on Helos Six young man. They are sentient, just like our mutual enemy.”

“I believe him,” Gerry said slowly. “It’s so crazy that it has to be true.”

Jerrix sighed at last.

“I met Tarra on the ship you know. The young lady in that holographic message.”

“You are Jerrix alright,” Smitty confessed. “Only he could have known about the message.”

“Well?” Jerrix asked. “Have you been to that arms dump yet?”

“We leave in the morning Jerrix. Bob found a small van for us.”

Jerrix thanked him, noting Bob’s stumpy short legs.

“I will come with you. You may need my help. Now, does anyone want to hear my theory about those work camps?”

“We’re all ears,” Tommy Anderson said.

Jerrix smiled at the ginger haired burly bloke who had been the rear gunner on HMS Trident. It had sunk beneath him.

“I believe they are being used to weed out the weak. What happens to those on the prison ships is still beyond me.”

“That is an inhuman policy,” Gerry said.

“Our enemies are far from human young man,” Jerrix reminded him.

Smitty nodded sadly, keeping his thoughts to himself.
---
As the sun rose, Jerrix, Tommy and Smitty climbed into the small white police van and set off towards the famous causeway.

“I hope the machines don’t spot us?” Tommy commented as Smitty drove at a hair-raising speed.

“That’s why I have my foot down,” Smitty replied. “I think we may be lucky.”

The causeway was dry when they crossed. To their relief, no patrolling machines were in sight.

“So far, so good,” Smitty muttered as they reached the twilight mainland.

“How far is this arms dump?” Jerrix asked.

“Oh about five miles. It dates back to the Cold War. The idea was that it would be used by commando groups if we were occupied.”

“Should be well stocked then,” Tommy said.

“I hope so,” Smitty said. “We can check it out.”

As they drove through the silent countryside, away from the work
camp, the rain began to fall in sheets once more. Smitty activated the wipers and slowed down.

“Some summer,” Tommy commented.

“Typical for here,” Smitty replied as they swung around a sharp bend.

“Watch out!” Jerrix yelled as they saw an overturned tractor.

Smitty slammed on the brakes, slewing the van sideways as it screeched to a halt.

“Damn,” Smitty cursed. “We can go back to the next junction.”

He slammed the van into reverse and looking back, began to manoeuvre the vehicle when he spotted a silver machine heading towards them.
Without hesitation he shouted, “Everyone out.”

As they did so, a pink ray shot from the star shaped machine and the van exploded. The blast was so severe that the occupants were felled. Believing them dead, the machine hovered off.

“Well,” Jerrix said picking himself up. “On foot then.”

They dusted themselves down and trod off, as the rainstorm intensified. Within moments, they were soaked.

They kept a careful eye out, as they made their way towards the dump. Once or twice, they hid behind hedgerows as machines patrolled. On one occasion, the following, tragic scene was played out.

As they walked past a field of golden corn, they saw a group of youths running through it. Not far behind, a machine followed until it unleashed its bolts.

Smitty was about to shout when Jerrix silenced him firmly.

“There is nothing we can do.”

As bodies vanished, the pink ray was deployed, turning the remainder into dust that blew in the breeze.

Shaking their heads sadly, the friends moved on as the killer drifted off.

A little further on, Smitty stopped and spotted a deserted railway platform.

“Is that it?” Tommy asked incredulously.

“Perfect cover,” Smitty replied. “Even has a rail.”

When they reached their destination, they saw, to the left of the platform a mound of moss. Curiously though, they also saw a cutting leading back to the country road. Beneath the platform of course, a short stretch of rail was clearly visible.

“This way,” Smitty said, leading them towards the mound.

When they reached it, Smitty scraped at the moss revealing a small security keypad. He stepped away.

“I am hoping you can crack this.”

“I will certainly try my boy,” Jerrix said stepping forward.

He produced his device and waived it slowly across the box. Then he read the read out, showing it to Smitty.

The pilot tapped it in and the moss collapsed, as a hidden door slid back. They stared at a concrete ramp and deepening darkness.

Jerrix entered, and finding a switch threw it. Hidden lights came on, illuminating their way. After his friends entered, Jerrix pushed a button, sealing them in.

The ramp was fairly short and led to a small underground chamber. Within this cavern, an army lorry was silently waiting. Around the chamber were weapons and boxes of ammo.

“Now we have a chance,” Tommy whispered.

“We should stay here till sunrise then head back,” Smitty suggested. “Whilst we are waiting, we had better load that truck.”
Tommy wandered over and found the door unlocked. He was thankful when he saw the keys inside the ignition.

“No problem with this,” he muttered returning to his mates.

“We should grab as much as possible,” Jerrix suggested. “Grenades, rocket launchers, machine guns, ammo, that sort of thing.”

“Sounds good enough to me,” Smitty commented as they began loading up. As they did this, a thought passed through the cat’s mind.

“I am afraid this will stop you moving around.”

“No worries,” Smitty replied. “We need to carry out that plan of yours. Remember, hit and run.”

“Releasing the prisoners was my main point,” Jerrix replied.

“Cause a few storms shall we say.”

“I just hope it’s enough,” Tommy said.

“It may be,” Jerrix assured him.

The loading was slow and heavy work. When it was finished though, they found the food stores. This was mostly bully beef and water.
Smitty glanced at Jerrix.

“Sorry mate. No vegetables.”

“No matter. You know my friend this dump would make an excellent base.”

“I was thinking that myself,” Smitty replied. “It is definitely bomb proof.”

“Perhaps we should put it to a vote after striking that work camp?” Tommy suggested.

“I will think about that one,” Smitty replied.

As they ate, events were unfolding elsewhere. As Tarra kicked her heels on board the prison ship, an armed group of survivors in Scotland stormed one of the camps outside Edinburgh. It was located along the coast in the seaside town of Portobello.

Their weapons breached the surrounding wood stockade and they ran inside to engage the few machines. As inmates fled in sheer panic, the rebels opened up with everything they had.

Their weapons were useless against the star shaped machines. Bullets simply bounced off. The machines responded without mercy. Their killing pink rays struck down many of the fighters until the rest lost their nerve and scattered.

They were hunted down and liquidated without mercy. Some of the inmates however, managed to evade capture.

Among the global misery, this was a small ray of purifying light.

Ta my dear...

Episode 4

Detective Harris stood before a frightened woman just outside of Frenier’s home. She had told of the weird noise and how she had banged upon the door. The lack of response had been the last straw.

“I understand that you saw a visitor?” he said.

The woman nodded vigorously.

“He was a fairly tall chap with a grey trench coat sir. That’s his car over there.”

Placing the unlit cigar into his mouth, he glanced at the vehicle and winced.

“Ben of course. That is all I need.”

He reached inside his jacket and dialled a number. Moments later, a voicemail message answered.

“Hi, I’m Ben. Please leave a message after the tone.”

The detective switched it off.

“I hate voicemail.”

He thanked the witness before entering the small home. Forensic teams were checking it over, dusting for prints, and examining the cool ash.

“I certainly don’t like the catty carpet,” he muttered to an officer.

The senior forensic officer padded over.

“That ash by the chairs is wood by the way sir.”

This piece of good news surprised him.

“Which means they are probably still alive. Any idea who put it there?”

The officer shook his head.

“We found something really peculiar though.”

He produced a bag that contained a silver ring. As the detective watched, the forensic officer held a compass to it.

“What’s the point of that?” Harris asked.

“The needle is pointing toward the ring sir. That can only mean one thing. That ring is heavily magnetised.”

The detective screwed his eyes for a moment.

“Is such a thing possible?”

The forensic expert smiled.

“Run a heavy current across wires and you get an electromagnetic field sir. Generators use that technology. However in a place like this...”

There was no need for that sentence to b completed. Harris had got the picture.

“The woman said Ben went in but nobody left. Any prints of a third suspect?”

The forensic chap shook his head.

“There were only two folk in here sir. You would almost think they had vanished into thin air.

Harris grinned at such impossibility, and started nosing around. The home was well kept of course, and nothing of real interest was discovered. Within the bedroom however lay a strange magazine about alien abduction.

Harris picked it up and began flicking through it.

“Same old garbage I see. Hello, what’s this?”

He saw on the rear page a dark ink stamp bearing the name of Kevin. Underneath was the address on Nevis Road.

“I’ll have to speak to this odd fellow.”
---
“Who is it?”

“Police sir...Can I have a word please?”

When the door opened at last, Harris almost laughed at the weird pink hair.

“What is this about?”

The detective pulled the magazine from his jacket pocket and said, “Your name was on it.”

Kevin glanced at the evidence and became defensive.

“When was reading abduction magazines a crime?”

The detective pushed a foot inside the door and hissed, “Ever since two people vanish.”

Kevin stepped back and Harris entered. He was shocked at the magazines strewn across the floor, but not at the subject matter.

“You are really involved in this then,” Harris observed.

“It’s my main hobby.”

“One of the folk who vanished is Ben. A reporter for the Bugel. The second is a lady by the name of Frenier.”

“You said they had vanished. Can you be a little more specific?”

The detective thought this over. After all, civilians aren’t supposed to ask questions.

“Vanished is perhaps a bad word to use on this occasion. Let’s just say gone awol.”

Kevin cleared a seat and invited Harris to sit down before joining him.

“That reporter was here not that long ago. He was following up on the death of his partner.”

Harris knew the story but was surprised at the delay.

“He found something out?”

“Shirley left my name in her diary detective. He was only here to find out why we met.”

Harris gazed at him coldly.

“Were you having an affair?”

Kevin was shocked at this disgusting suggestion.

“I damn well resent that sir. She only wanted to know my opinion concerning a friend’s abduction story.”

Harris raised his eyebrows sharply.

“This friend was not Frenier by any chance?”

Kevin nodded.

“When she left here, Shirley was blowing a fuse shall we say.”

The detective entered deep thought mode, sifting the facts carefully.

“So Ben arrives here, gets the lowdown on Frenier, and goes awol with her.”

“Look detective, I’m a pretty sharp guy at times. You are hiding something.”

The detective gulped, and decided to divulge a fact about the strange case.

“We found two piles of wood ash in the living area sir. Does that mean anything to you?”

Kevin blanched and leaping down, began searching through his untidy record keeping.

“Now where the hell is it?”

A moment later he pulled out an edition dated 1995. He flicked through it rapidly until he found the correct page.

“Here we are. In 1922 in eastern Russia, a family of three simply vanished from their hunting lodge. Only three piles of wood ash were discovered. It says here that they were never seen again.”

The detective winced as Kevin handed the account over.

“You need my help detective.”

“We don’t work well with civilian's sir. If I start blabbing about alien abduction, my superiors will put me inside a funny farm.”

“In ufo encounters, radios have gone dead, compasses go haywire, and the odd plane falls from the sky.”

“We found a magnetised ring at the scene.”

“I now regret doubting Shirley’s account about her friend. This is a genuine case.”

Harris threw the account upon the floor and chewed heavily on the cigar.

“So how do we get them back?”

“We don’t,” Kevin replied. “At least not until their abductors are finished with them. As for poor Shelley. Perhaps she was an unknown abduction victim. Something may have gone wrong. That may explain the strangeness of her death.”

Harris absorbed this information easily, but was in a quandary concerning his next move.

“Would they be returned to the scene?”

Kevin shook his head.

“Not necessarily detective. An American victim ended up a hundred miles from her bedroom, with no memory of how she got there.”

“Which means we are stuffed.”

Kevin suddenly brightened up.

“I am an old friend of Ben. If I know him, he’ll be trying to figure out an escape plan.”

Harris nodded and stood to leave.

“Thanks for the info. If he should turn up...”

“Don’t worry sir. I’ll make sure that you know about it. After he explains everything to me of course.”

Harris smiled easily, and left the strange enthusiast to his important hobby. As he sat inside his vehicle, a thought came to his frantic mind.

“Wherever you are Ben, get your arse home soon.”

TBC...

Episode 3.

The noon sun beat down upon the softly moan grass as Ben carried the flowers toward their sad destination. As the headstone came into view, he slowed down.

With fallen eyes, he knelt and placed them into the empty brazier.

“Happy birthday Shirley.”

He gazed upon the bleak stone, remembering the happy times before her premature death. A death that no one could explain.

He rose slowly as a whisper reached his ears.

“Help me Ben.”

He whirled around but no one was there of course.

“Who was that?”

The voice came again.

“Help me Ben. I was murdered.”

The reporter for the paper felt his warm blood run cold as he recognised his sweetheart’s voice at last.

“Shirley?”

“Of course it’s me. The proof lies within my things. Don’t let me down darling. My loving puppy.”

Ben felt his heart twinge at his pet name. A name only she had known. After all, Shirley had given it to him.

When he reached his apartment on Sudock Avenue, he walked into the rear room where a box of her things lay undisturbed. As he knelt to open it, a soft breeze ruffled his hair.

“I wonder what lies within?”

He opened the lid slowly and gazed at the contents. A bra, a thong, and a diary that he had never read.

“I wonder if the clue lies in here?”

As he pulled it out, the cool breeze came again.

Ben closed the lid and returned to the warm lounge before pouring out a stiff whisky. As he gulped it down, his shaking fingers opened the diary of his long lost love.

Sat-July 6th-Gone to Derek’s.

He thought back to that particular date in time. Derek had been an old friend of his before they had fallen out.

Sunday-July 8th-Call from Andrew. Must return call.

He knew who Andrew was of course. Shirley’s doctor.

Monday-July 9th-Shopping trip.

He nearly teared up when he read that last entry. Her cold corpse had been found in that mall parking lot. Sudden death had been recorded at the inquest.

“Not much to go on I see. I’ll check the doctor first.”

He knew where the mobile was hidden and reached under the cushion to retrieve it. He checked her phonebook and spotted the relevant number.

“Hi there. I’m Ben. My late girlfriend Shelley left a note about seeing you on July 8th of last year.”

He listened to the cold but professional reply.

“I know about patient confidence sir. I’m a ruddy reporter. I need to see you about this.”

When the reply came, he glanced at his watch.

“Three will be lovely sir. See you then.”

He disconnected and began to ready himself for the expected meeting.

The waiting room was pretty packed and the doctor kept him on ice for another hour. As he at last sat before this Dutchman, he tried to smile.

“How can I possibly help you sir?”

“You signed the death certificate as I remember.”

“As she was my patient that is only to be expected.”

“There was nothing unusual about the circumstances?”

“Only in that the death was unexpected. Toxicology picked up nothing as you well know.”

Ben remembered that grim day only too well.

“Look Andrew. Her diary makes clear that you phoned her. Can you at least tell me why?”

The medic looked at him closely before coughing.

“She wanted some advice on getting pregnant. She had left a note with my receptionist about it.”

The news came as a complete shock to Ben. He had wanted kids but not just yet. The doctor must have seen his face turn ashen for he said, “You did not know?”

“No I did not sir. It seems that I wasted your time.”

“You did not. Just answer me this. Why bring this up now?”

Ben nearly blurted out the reason, but his mind stopped it just in the nick of time.

“I was eh, checking her things and came across the diary.”

The Dutchman smiled happily.

“Then that explains it.”

When Ben left the practice, he sat in his car thinking about Kevin.

“I wonder if he still lives on Nevis Road.”

He gunned the engine and headed toward the town centre, and the home of his old friend.

When he arrived at the quaint old cottage, he knocked politely. Soon after, a short bloke with pink hair answered sleepily.

“I don’t need any bible basher’s thanks.”

“It’s Ben you fool.”

The door was thrown open, and his old friend beamed.

“How long has it been now?”

Ben knew the answer to that one.

“Three years mate. Can I come inside for a moment?”

Kevin stepped aside and the reporter entered a rather untidy living area. Magazines were scattered across the floor and cat hair seemed to hang from everywhere.

“Mind the mess eh?”

Ben smiled as he found himself a clear chair. Sitting down he noted that the magazines were all about alien abduction.

“You still into that subject?”

Kevin coloured up as he plopped down upon the sofa.

“It was abduction that triggered our argument mate. Of course I’m still into it.”

“I’m not here to argue.”

“Then may I ask why you have come?”

“It’s about Shirley. She left a note in her diary about you.”

“Did she indeed? That was shortly before her death.”

“You remember it then?”

“Of course I do. One of her friends had told her that she was an
abduction victim.”

“So she came here to gauge an opinion?”

Kevin nodded.

“After listening to the account I came to the conclusion that her friend was winding her up.”

Ben thought this through.

“What was the giveaway?”

Kevin smiled and said, “Aliens do not go around bonking people.”

“Oh I see. Can you remember who the friend was?”

“Frenier I think. She lives on Muscle Street.”

“By the cinema?”

“That’s the place. Before she left, she told me that her friend was about to feel her fury.”

“That’s understandable,” Ben said. “She hated being made a fool of.”

They parted on good terms, and the reporter made his merry way toward Frenier.

When he entered Muscle Street, passing the old cinema, he spotted the line of homes where the woman lived. He mentally thanked his old friend for giving him the house number, as he stepped onto the cold pavement.

Each one of these buildings was single storey with quaint but rather garish yellow doors.

“Reminds me of a doll house,” he muttered as he knocked thrice.

“Who is it?”

“It’s Ben. Eh, Shirley’s partner.”

The door opened, and an obese lady with drooping mammary glands gazed at him.

“What do you want exactly?”

He saw the thin nightdress that barely hid her modesty, but the red lined eyes really concerned him.

“Had a bad night?”

“More than ever. What’s this about?”

“I understand that you saw Shirley shortly before she passed on.”

The woman who was ten years older stepped back.

“You better come inside then.”

The living space was quite modest and the fluffy carpet boasted images of cats.

“Please be seated.”

He sat upon a chair as she plonked down beside him.

“She must have been livid when she turned up.”

Frenier nodded as if it had happened yesterday.

“She certainly was. She accused me of lying to her.”

“So you were the supposed abduction victim?”

“Still am. I have not had a proper night’s sleep in months.”

“Perhaps they are simply nightmares or sleep paralysis.”

Frenier shook her head.

“I considered that you know.”

“Why did you reject them?” Ben asked.

“One thing changed my mind. An abduction happened when I was wide awake.”

“Oh I see. So little green men turned up and took you away did they?”

She sneered at the doubtful reporter.

“You have simply no idea what they put me through.”

“Bonking isn’t it?”

She stared at him in shock.

“She told you?”

“A friend of hers did a short time ago.”

“That must be Kevin then.”

“It certainly is.”

“Look Ben...I don’t need you or anyone else to believe me.”

“Did Shirley seem okay when she left?”

The woman suddenly became evasive.

“Why do you ask?”

“I’m trying to find out if she was murdered.”

Her face turned ashen at this surprising suggestion.

“That I had something to do with it? She was found in the parking lot.”

“I know that already,” he said quietly. “There is a connection but I don’t know what.”

“Perhaps you should leave now,” she replied glancing at the wall clock.

He saw the nervous look and the time.

“Now why should I do that?”

Frenier was just about to reply when a loud fizzing noise swept over the room. As the wall clock shook, the woman turned wild.

“You have to go right now!”

She grabbed his arm and managed to haul him up, before they both faded from view.

Seconds later, two smoking piles of ash appeared where two people had once stood.
TBC...

Episode 2

“That must surely be a fake.”

The professor shook his head.

“This is the reason I became interested in fixed points in time.
Believe it or not, I found this when I was a lad of ten.”

Ben scrutinised the terrifying page.

“It states that those deaths are in Canada. As well as the ensuing pandemic.”

“A little further on it mentions thirty million worldwide.”
Ben was truly shocked.

“You must have thought about this for ages.”

“Ever since this came into my possession,” he replied.

The professor placed it reverently inside the cabinet and said, “You see, that event is not yet a fixed point which means the future can be altered.”

“Without consequences?”

“I believe so. The problem is trying to determine the cause of that disaster. Patient zero if you like.”

Ben started trawling through his memory for facts.

“We know that smallpox has a twelve day incubation period. We also know samples are kept by Russia and the US. So could this be the result of an accident?”

“That was my first thought, until I realised other samples were sent to their allies.”

“So you are thinking terrorists?”

“Precisely.”

“So the suicide of that young man was due to...?”

The professor placed a firm hand upon his shoulder.

“Panic, that’s all. He probably thought I was talking crap until it suddenly dawned upon him. Suicide would be expected.”

“Here was I hoping to link him to some plot.”

“That would be a fruitless exercise. Something else worries me.”

“What might that be?” Ben asked.

“Why so many deaths here, if the disease came from outside?”

“I see what you mean. It may have begun here.”

“My thoughts entirely. That event is only three months away, which leads me to conclude the start cannot be that far off.”

“Would you be willing to speak to a friend of mine?”

“If it stops this horror why not. Though I warn you now, we will not be believed.”

Detective Harris had sat within the interview room listening to the professor’s outlandish story with mounting frustration. As a hardheaded officer, he dealt with the real world. Not some warped view of it.

“Are you done?”

When the gent nodded Ben asked, “What do you make of it?”

“Garbage of course. We don’t have bio terrorists in Canada.”

“So you do not reject the concept,” the professor commented.

“Of future time?”

“Is there any other?” Ben asked.

“There must be a future; otherwise I’d be out of a job.”

“Point taken,” the professor said.

“What about stopping this event though?” the reporter asked anxiously.

“I need some hard facts to go on. A list of suspects would be fine.”

“We don’t have any,” the professor answered.

“What did you find at the suicides?” Ben asked.

“No last note,” Harris replied. “That is quite unusual. Apart from that nothing.”

Ben stared at him hard.

“Mind if we take a look?”

The detective thought this over.

“I would have to go with you.”

“Then let us do it now,” the professor muttered. “If only to rule him out completely.”

The detective nodded and led them to his official vehicle. After a rather lonely drive, they entered the apartment on Trinity Street once more. The corpse had since been removed and the professor headed straight for the kitchen. As he opened the fridge, Harris asked, “Looking for a burger?”

“A deadly one sir. You see, smallpox samples have to be kept cold.”

He gazed inside and suddenly winced.

“It would appear that we have found our man after all.”

They watched in horror as the gent carefully withdrew a sealed Petri dish.

“Is that what I think it is?” Ben asked nervously.

“It certainly is young man.”

Harris reached for his radio and called in the bio team.

“He must have been out of his tiny mind.”

“Most terrorists are,” the old gent reminded them.

As he replaced the offending weapon, Ben wandered into the lounge like some bloodhound.

“There must be evidence here.”

As he began checking the contents of that room, the two companions entered.

“What are you looking for?” Harris asked.

“Just making sure he was working alone. Hello, what’s this?”

He had pulled a newspaper from the table and spotted something underneath. As he picked it up, he read the headline.

‘Donashey balloon club.’

He handed it over to the curious detective.

“Perhaps we should check this.”

The detective noted the date.

“There is a meeting tomorrow morning. Is that significant?”

The professor quickly cut in.

“Bio toxins are lethal if dispersed by air detective. At least check them out.”

Harris needed no second request.

“This is Harris. I’m on my way to Gracie field. Armed backup and the bio squad needed at location.”

As he dashed for the door, Barry and the professor followed.

“Where do you think you are going?”

“I’m a reporter remember. This will be one hell of a story.”

Harris shrugged his shoulders and led the way out as the first bio team duly arrived.

“Why are we needed?” the commander asked.

“Just look inside the fridge,” the professor suggested. “It contains smallpox.”

As they climbed inside the waiting car, the bemused team set to work.

Gracie field was located to the south of the sleepy hamlet. As they approached at high speed, other vehicles were responding to the alert.

“I just hope you two are wrong,” Harris muttered as they drew to a halt.

Just beyond sat the field, now littered with twelve balloons. Each one tied down and ready for launch.

“I’ll handle this,” the detective said stepping out.

As he did so however, a single shot smashed into the bumper.

“Come on Xentoph,” Ben yelled. “We have to get out of here.”

As they scrambled out of the passenger door, further shots smashed around them.

“This is a fine place to die,” Harris muttered as the sirens of reinforcements drifted across the afternoon air.

“Can’t you at least reply?” Ben asked.

Harris drew his weapon and scanned the area. To the left of a large hanger sat a large dull coloured drum, and Harris pointed his weapon
at it. As he fired, it went up in flames.

Moments later a screaming man staggered out like a Roman candle before crashing to the ground. The detective let off a dozen shots as he broke cover. Ben watched him race toward the closed doors before slamming against them.

“He had better be alright,” Ben whispered.

The backup arrived and six officers leapt from their vehicles as Harris remained panting.

“Just one more lap my boy.”

He pulled open a section and fired into the interior. A gunshot rang out that he was lucky to avoid.

“Surrender right now!”

“Go to blazes!”

The officers arrived and waited for the detective’s signal. As he counted three, they burst in together. Shots rang out as the four gang members dived for cover.

Harris found himself pinned behind a wooden pallet with bullets smashing into it. He poked his head above the parapet and fired twice. A yell told him someone had been hit, as another gunshot rang out.

“We give up!”

Harris waited a few moments before stepping clear. By this time, the suspects lay upon the ground. One of them fatally wounded. The bio squad quickly entered, and found samples of the disease ready for use in a rear cooling area.

As Harris watched the gang being led outside, Ben and the plucky professor joined him.

“We seem to have changed future history,” the old gent commented.

“So much for your theory of fixed time,” Ben said smiling.

The old man shook his head vigorously.

“I’ve already proven that my boy.”

As they walked away, Ben turned back towards the detective.

“Fancy giving us a lift?”

After being dropped off at the station, Ben collected his car and took the professor home before returning to his paper. After typing for an hour, he handed his piece over to his hardnosed editor.

“How I prevented doomsday?”

“It’s all true sir. You can check with Harris if you like.”

The editor shook his head.

“That won’t be necessary on this occasion. Get your arse home eh?”

Ben grinned as he left his boss to it. Heading for his car and home.

As he drove at last along Sudock Avenue, his wandering mind forgot to register the dark clad figure stepping from behind a parked vehicle.

“Oh hell!”

Ben slammed the brakes hard, slewing the vehicle sideways. The figure impacted with a sickening crunch, and rolled across the dark paved road.

As Ben leapt out, he stared in utter shock.

“What the hell?”

The road outside his apartment was quite empty. Whomever he had hit, they were gone now.

To be continued...

Episode 1

A lone figure stood just north of the traffic lights gazing intently at the blackened earth where the eighteenth century home of the blood drinkers had stood.

Remorseful that he had survived the final battle, Ben cast his green eyes around the dark hamlet of Donashey, north Canada.

“At least the mayor has finally agreed to build street lamps.”

He shook his head at the crazy reality of this cold and remote hamlet. Wooden frontages reminding him of the old frontier towns, springing up during the dark days of the gold rush.

As he turned to leave, his mobile jingled and he answered it promptly. He was not too surprised to hear the hoarse voice of his editor upon the line.

“Get yourself off to Trinity Street my lad. We could have a suicide there.”

Ben disengaged the phone and climbed back inside his silver ford. He gunned the engine and crossed the lights heading west, to where the crime scene was located.

As he drew up, he spotted the familiar patrol cars, some of them still flashing their blue lights in vain. He climbed out and gazed upon the modern apartment building that some regarded as a true monstrosity.

When he reached the door of the first floor apartment, a patrolman stopped him.

“You really cannot come in here mate.”

Ben smiled, reaching inside his grey trench coat to produce the press pass. As he showed it, a familiar voice drifted from the interior.

“Is that detective Harris by any chance?”

The patrolman handed the pass back and nodded.

“You can go in but be careful.”

Ben found himself inside a short hallway as Harris stepped into view. A rather short but bulky man, the unlit cigar drooped from the corner of his mouth.

“You got here quick enough.”

Ben smiled and replied, “Why not light that?”

The detective grunted and said, “Bad for my health mate.”

“So what do you have?”

“Pop in here and promise not to retch.”

Ben was led into the tidy bedroom, and saw the reason for the warning. A young man not more that eighteen was hanging from a hook. His blue face and bulging eyes indicative of asphyxiation. Even the protruding tongue looked sinister.

“Do you know much about him?”

Harris picked up the drivers license and read the name.

“Keith Write.”

“Means nothing to me detective.”

Ben glanced around, noting the papers upon the bedside cabinet. Being a curious individual, he wandered across and picked them up.

“This looks rather interesting.”

He gazed down at the red coloured titles, every one of them headed, the time society.

“Ever heard of them?”

Harris nodded.

“Just a bunch of cranks led by professor Xentoph.”

Ben recognised the name of course. He had been drummed out of mainstream science over his weird theory concerning fixed points in time.

“Mind if I check them out?”

“Do what you like Ben. This is simply a suicide. We won’t be looking for anyone else.”

Ben put the papers down and waddled back to his waiting vehicle.

“Larkman Road is not far from here,” he muttered.

He drove carefully the three blocks, until he drew up outside the wooden fronted headquarters of this fringe society.

“Seems that someone is home.”

He climbed out and pushed the door open, entering the small hall where the elderly gent sat at a simple desk.

“Professor?”

The grey haired gent glanced up at the reporter. His grey suit far too large for his thin frame.

“Can I help you?”

“Does Keith Write mean anything to you sir?”

The professor closed his eyes in vain.

“What has he done now?”

Ben took a deep breath.

“He hanged himself at home. I’ve just come from there. Can I ask you a few questions?”

“Are you the police?”

Ben shook his head and showed the pass.

“Donashey Bugel,” the professor muttered. “What would you like to know?”

“Anything strange in his behaviour recently?”

“Not that I noticed sir. He kept away from my group ten days ago.”

“Did he give any reason?”

“We had an argument that is all.”

Ben pricked his ears up.

“What was that about?”

The gent sighed deeply and thought back.

“He interrupted my lecture to point out it was all rubbish. We had to eject him.”

“You don’t like criticism?”

“I relish it as a matter of fact. He was simply too loud.”

“You must admit sir that your theories are quite outlandish.”

The professor had heard this before and the response was automatic.

“Have you any idea what the fixed point theory means?”

Ben was an honest guy and shook his head.

“Sit yourself down then and I’ll try and explain it.”

Ben shrugged his shoulders and pulled the seat back before sitting.

“I’m all ears sir.”

The professor grinned at the eager pupil.

“I should have you stuffed. Anyway, kidding aside. Throughout history, fixed points have popped up from time to time. The fall of Rome, D-Day, and the killing of Kennedy.”

“Sounds logical so far.”

The professor raised his palm for quiet.

“These points are quite critical you know. The branching theory of quantum physics states, that for every decision we make a new universe is created.”

“I have heard of that sir. Though I don’t accept it.”

The professor looked stunned.

“What do you mean that you don’t accept it?”

Ben was brilliant on the defensive and showed off.

“If I had driven past instead of stopping, a new universes would have been created. That’s simply daft.”

“The multiverse is a solid theory,” the professor argued. “We can prove it too.”

“So what has that to do with fixed points in time?”

The gent grinned.

“They underpin everything as I indicated. If you change one of them, the remainder collapse like a house of cards.”

Ben thought this over.

“It’s an interesting line of argument, but surely we simply don’t have that capability?”

The professor gazed into his eyes and said quietly, “Let me show you something.”

He stood and led the reporter towards the rear wall where two newspaper headlines hung in brass frames.

The first read, ‘All saved from Titanic.’

The second read, ‘1500 dead as Titanic sinks.’

Ben recognised both at once.

“I’m a buff you know. The publisher was heavily criticised for raising false hopes.”

The gent nodded sadly.

“Like everyone else you are missing the point.”

“You had better fill me in then.”

“The first headline came out precisely at the point when reality split. That is why it exists today.”

“Are you suggesting an attempt was made to change it?”

“That is one possibility, though I rule that out on the grounds that we would not exist today.”

Ben scratched his head.

“So was this the subject of your debate when Keith Write intervened?”

“It was indeed young man.”

“I wonder why he hung himself then.”

The professor shook his head.

“Perhaps my follow up disturbed him.”

Ben raised his eyebrows.

“Can I see it?”

The professor wandered over to a small cabinet and opened it slowly. His withered fingers drew out another front page. When Ben read the headline, his blood ran cold.

‘Small pox toll hits a million.’

He glanced at the date, noting it was three months hence.”

It was raining hard when they stepped from the ship. Gerry looked smart in his black shiny shoes and bright red uniform. His face fell when he spotted the weather.

“I suppose you don’t carry a brolly?”

The cat laughed.

“Not likely young man. I happen to like the rain.”

“So where are we?”

“Holy Island my boy. Just off the coast of Northumbria. A perfect location for a holiday.”

Gerry looked around at the stony ground.

“I’m not too impressed.”

Jerrix shook his furry head in disbelief.

“I brought you to see the castle,” he explained. “Well, actually a Victorian folly but gorgeous all the same.”

They both turned toward the edifice and stared in shock. Instead of a magnificent tower, they only saw a pile of rubble.

“Whatever happened here,” the cat exclaimed.

“Natural disaster perhaps?” the schoolboy suggested.

“Perhaps my boy. Come on, we had better have a look.”

They padded towards the sorry rubble and strangely, Jerrix felt tears rising.

“You look upset.”

“After our recent experience I so much wanted this to be right. Just look at it now.”

They had reached the rubble and could go no further. Jerrix listened but only silence came.

“Something is terribly wrong. No birds, car noise or planes for that matter.”

“Perhaps it is a Sunday?”

Jerrix scowled.

“Don’t be daft. Are you not worried? What about your school, parents?”

“If something has happened, there is nothing I could have done to stop it.”

“I take your point young man.”

They both turned and saw a small object glinting high in the sky. As it approached, it grew larger and the cat froze with mounting horror.
He pulled his fork like device from his deep cloak pocket and adjusted it.

“What is it?” Gerry asked as the star shaped machine glided toward them.

“They are warlike scavengers I met on Helos Six my boy. I’ve eh, set this device. Don’t worry. We are perfectly safe.”

As he spoke, the machine stopped.

Jerrix pointed his device and fired. He was perturbed when nothing happened.

In a harsh, metallic voice the machine spoke.

“Your puny device cannot harm us. None of your weapons are a threat.”

“Seems you are right,” Jerrix muttered sadly.

The machine rose above their heads, when a lightning bolt exploded upon its shiny metallic exterior. As they dived for cover, it whirled through the air before crashing to the ground.

Scrambling up, the friends examined it. To all intent and purposes, it looked undamaged. However, it was dead enough.

“What were you trying to do?” Gerry asked.

“I was attempting to reset its nemorax matrix. It worked last time. Obviously they have adapted.”

The cat crouched but all was silent. He waived his device across it and read the readout.

“Hmm, dead enough. I would love to peek inside but it appears solid. No screws anywhere.”

He stood up, scratching his ear.

“I don’t want to doubt your word Jerrix,” Gerry said. “These things don’t look too dangerous.”

This foolish statement was like a red rag to a bull.

“They are sentient and fully armed. I assure you of that!” he stormed.

As Gerry watched, the annoyed cat stomped off.

“Where are you going?”

“To find out what’s going on. You can stay here if you want, and clean your shoes.”

Gerry sighed deeply and ran after the angry moggy.

As they approached a small hamlet with their white washed walls, an armed man appeared from behind a green hedge and levelled his shotgun.

“Where are you two clowns going?”

Jerrix just stared as Gerry came to a halt.

“Anywhere but here. Now move aside.”

The young gent, dressed in grey wool jacket and dark trousers simply laughed.

“You ordering me around then?”

Jerrix was in no mood for small talk. He moved rapidly, knocking the weapon from the gent’s hands before he could react. Another blow sent him reeling.

When he next took note, Jerrix had the weapon pointing straight at him.

“Now it’s your turn to talk,” he hissed.

“Anything mate. Just ask away.”

“Hey Jerrix,” Gerry said. “Don’t harm the bloke.”

Jerrix ignored him.

“Who are you?” the cat snapped.

“Terrance Grove. I’m supposed to protect this area.”

“Protect it?” Jerrix asked. “With aliens running amok?”

“I follow orders,” the frightened young man replied.

“Do you indeed,” the cat replied. “Well young man. You will take us to your leader.”

He motioned for the young man to stand and followed him at gunpoint. He led them towards a small inn, the outside of which was painted a ghastly brown.

“Now inside and no funny business,” the cat ordered shoving the youngster through the door.

As soon as he followed, he found himself facing a group of armed men who had their weapons trained.

“Drop it,”

Jerrix looked at the man from whom the command came. He was tall, thin and dressed in grey clothes. He too, carried a shotgun.

“We seem to have a stalemate here,” the cat hissed.

“Not a stalemate,” the antagonist said coolly. “Just put it down.”

Terrance was beside his leader now and stuttering with shock.

“He just floored me Smitty. I never saw anything like it. That one’s Jerrix. Heard the name.”

“Only in self defence,” Gerry reminded him.

“Eh, that’s right.” Terrance said.

“We could use you,” Smitty suggested. “Ammo is short around here.”

Jerrix thought it over and un-cocking the weapon, handed it over.

“Well done mate,” Smitty said lowering his own weapon. As he did this, his mates did likewise.

“You sound like a fighter pilot to me,” the cat said.

“RAF mate. I was shot down when these damn things arrived.”

The cat scratched his ear.

“This your gang?”

“Yeah. This is Tommy Anderson former rear gunner on HMS Trident. His ship sank beneath him.”

Jerrix saw the ginger haired gent and shook his hand.

“Terrance you know of course.”

“We met,” the cat replied.

“This other chap is crispy, a former cop.”

Jerrix shook his hand, noting the firm grip and grey hair.

“What about the other?” the cat asked looking at a short gent with stumpy legs.

“Bob’s my name.”

“Some gang,” Gerry commented.

“Kind of resistance really,” Tommy said.

Jerrix smiled.

“Now that you know us,” Smitty said pleasantly. “May we know your friend’s name?”

Jerrix made the introductions. Then after a moment he asked, “So when did the Siphonans arrive?”

“Siphonans?” Crispy asked.

“That’s the planet they come from,” Jerrix explained.

“How come you know that?” Tommy asked suspiciously.

“Because young man I have defeated them before. You see, we are galactic travellers.”

“You might be,” Crispy said. “That schoolboy ain't.”

Jerrix smiled.

“My question still stands.”

“You had better sit down then,” the former pilot told him.

The friends sat at a table as Smitty told the story.

“It started about a month ago. These things simply dropped from the sky. After being shot down, I swam ashore and found Tommy out cold. After reviving him, we made for a farmhouse and found a television. We soon learned it was a global attack. Every satellite, every base was under assault. Then the electric failed.”

“You were both lucky then,” Gerry commented.

“I’ll say we were,” Tommy replied.

“So why are they here I wonder? There is no dolomite on this planet,” Jerrix muttered.

The gang did not understand his meaning so let it go.

“As far as we can make out,” Smitty continued. “Our people are being enslaved. Clearing rubble most of the time.”

“I see,” the cat muttered. “Well, we know electric brings them down.”
Smitty looked puzzled.

“I saw a lightning bolt strike one. It’s lying near that demolished castle,” the cat explained.

“Oh I see,” Smitty said.

“What else are they doing? Anyone been to the mainland?”

Crispy spoke up.

“I went last week. Near the demolished Bamburgh castle, they have constructed a work camp. Why though I have no idea.”

“Well, I had better take a look.”

Tommy glared at him.

“You gone mad. A patrol will pick you up in no time.”

“So how do you evade capture?” the cat asked.

The group smiled.

“We keep moving mate,” Crispy told him.

“If none of you are willing, I intend to go alone.”

“I’ll go with you,” Smitty assured him.

“Yeah and me too,” Tommy chipped in.

“I suppose I’ll just wait here then,” Gerry muttered.
---
At first light, after a thin breakfast, Jerrix set off with the pilot and rear gunner for the mainland. They had timed the expedition to coincide with the tide of course. Holy Island has a causeway, which is regularly inundated by the rising sea. Only a single road connects the two locations.

They reached this without incident. As they crossed, the cat saw the vast sand plain stretching into the distance. He shuddered at the thought of being cut off here. As so many drivers had.

To their great relief, they reached the shore just north of Bamburgh castle, and quickly made their way inland. After around a mile, they stopped as a machine floated by.

When the coast was clear, they ran onto a small rise and peered down at a vast camp area. Smitty handed Jerrix a pair of binoculars, which he peered through.

What he saw stunned him.

A wooden stockade had been built around the camp and at the east end; a series of wooden barracks had been constructed. He saw poorly dressed prisoners, seemingly tilling the soil with simple implements while machines kept a close watch.

As he peered, a woman threw down a tool and ran. Seconds later, a pink ray lashed out reducing her to dust.

Jerrix put aside the spyglasses.

“I have seen enough. We should be getting back.”

“We will be heading for the farmhouse where the rest will have moved to,” Tommy informed him.

As they crept away, Smitty asked, “So what do you think is really going on Jerrix?”

“Well I suppose their intention could simply be conquest,” he replied. “However, that seems too simple to me.”

“What were they doing on that planet you mentioned?” Tommy asked.

“Oh, Helos Six? They were after a rare mineral not found here thankfully.”

“Could it be coal, oil perhaps?”

Jerrix shook his head.

“I don’t think the Siphonans have a use for the stuff,” the cat replied.

They had not gone far when a machine spotted them and floated towards them. It was Jerrix who spotted the oncoming danger.

Quickly glancing around he spotted a pylon, and pointing to it shouted, “Over there now.”

They followed the running cat, not knowing why. When they reached it, they saw the machine closing in. Jerrix removed his device and reset the dial.

“Now don’t touch the metal,” he warned as he pointed his device at it.

They watched the machine pass near the overhead power lines and suddenly crash to the ground. The two men were stunned.

“We can add electromagnetism to their weaknesses,” Jerrix said happily.

They managed to return to the island without incident, watching from the shoreline as the sea rolled in, cutting them off. He followed them to a deserted farmhouse on the edge of an open field when Terrance greeted them, shotgun in hand.

“Nice to see you all back. Have fun?”

“You could say that,” Smitty said. “He brought down one of the machines.”

“Impressive,” the youth answered as they entered the building.

Within the spacey lounge, the group was gathered. Tommy reported their day before slumping down.

“What are your long term plans?” Jerrix asked.

“Hopefully drive the machines off our planet,” Smitty answered.

“That will be more problematic,” the cat told him. “Have you considered hit and run ops?”

“We thought about it,” Tommy replied. “We decided against it in the end because of the machine’s invincibility.”

“I fully understand that,” the cat replied. “However, risks must be taken.”

“We are not cowards Jerrix,” Bob replied.

“I know you are not.”

Smitty looked across at Tommy as a silent decision was made.

“Will you lead us sir?” Tommy asked.

As the group looked at him, Jerrix said slowly, “Why not.”
---
A young thirteen-year-old girl with straight yellow hair was slaving away inside a work camp near Derby. She had been captured soon after the invasion had begun, fleeing down a previously quiet street.

As with some of the prisoners, she was kept in barracks, built by the inmates that housed two hundred. The day began at dawn and after a slop breakfast; they were escorted out to the tilling field.

When they arrived, with machine guards overhead, overseers handed out the implements, mostly hoes, and the work began. It was truly backbreaking this work. Woman who fell ill or collapsed with exhaustion were shown no mercy. A machine would fire the pink ray and put the inmate out of her misery.

No one in the camp knew the point of this toil. Stories bounded about enslaved man clearing the damaged streets of the rubble. Most of them would have preferred something as productive.

This girl had a secret though.

She had seen these same creatures on a far away planet, and hoped the machines had not noticed. The sun had drifted into its afternoon position when an overseer approached her. She tilled away, becoming warier by the second.

“You are wanted Tarra,” the overseer said quietly.

The young girl froze.

“Who me? Why?”

“You have been here long enough to know it’s unwise to argue. Come on, follow me.”

She dropped the hoe and followed the overseer, another older woman of course, towards a large metallic dome at the edge of the camp. She had seen many enter that place, but she had seen none leave.

She tried to suppress her fear as the hidden door swished open, and the overseer walked back to her awful duties. She had expected something terrible. All she found was a blank, non- descript chamber.

“Reminds me of that prison ship,” she whispered to herself.

As if in answer, one of the machines, which was five feet in diameter, suddenly appeared. She held her ground as it glided toward her.

“You are known to us,” the machine stated in its harsh voice.

Tarra stared back with a blank face.

“I am not surprised. I have been here long enough.”

“That is not what I meant,” the machine informed her.

“Then you should make yourself clearer,” Tarra said.

“I am the new ambassador,” the machine replied. “You were recorded on Helos Six with Jerrix Tau.”

Tarra knew the game was up.

“What if I was? You lot were trying to enslave them.”

The machine ignored her and continued without a pause.

“We have identified Jerrix in Northumbria. He cannot be allowed to interfere.”

Tarra smiled.

“You are that afraid of him. One cat and you quiver.”

“We simply want to conduct a smooth operation. You will help us secure this.”

Tarra stamped her foot.

“I will not ambassador. I would rather be boiled in oil.”

The machine hovered closer.

“That sacrifice is not necessary; you will record a holographic message for us.”

“Go and rust,” she screamed at the ambassador.

The machine circled her and continued.

“If your friend surrenders, Moscow will be spared.”

Tarra recognised the game of poker. The ambassador was raising the stakes.

She fell silent, trying to think.

“If I do this, what assurances do I have he will not be harmed.”

“We only wish to detain him,” the ambassador responded. “Put him somewhere he would do no harm.”

“You mean a prison ship?” she asked.

The machine replied at once.

“That is our intention. You will meet him there.”

Tarra nodded at last.

While Tarra was transferred to a prison ship to record the appeal, while Smitty’s group dithered despite the cat’s new leadership, the survivors of battered London fought back.

Rising from their boltholes, they threw stones, bricks, masonry at the machines. Anything they could get their hands on really. As the insurrection mounted, the machines moved in.

Bolts hurtled down, soon to be followed by the killing rays. The enraged people did not scatter. They advanced, despite the casualties. For six hours that afternoon, London echoed to the ancient sounds of war, before falling silent.

When that silence fell, many were dead, reduced to dust that blew in the mind. The luckier ones, struck by bolts, waking up on one of the many orbital prison ships.

That final hopeless defiance was man’s final gasp. The Siphonan’s grip was relentless and without mercy. It would take a miracle to break it now.
---
Inside the farmhouse, the five fighters were gathered around the kitchen table. A map had been placed upon this and camp locations identified.

Jerrix, now fully in charge, was outlining his battle plan.

“Despite their defences, the Siphonan grip can be loosened. If we release as many prisoners as possible, they would spend so much time on recapture ops that they may simply decide to pull out.”

Smitty nodded.

“I can get rocket launchers from military stocks for that.”

Jerrix glanced up in surprise.

“Can you now. Good. There are only five of you, but the small size is to our advantage. That may explain why you are still at large.”

“You mean,” Terrance asked. “We have been ignored?”

“Exactly. They regard you as insignificant,” the cat replied.

“We will show them what’s for,” Bob said smiling.

“So when does all this start?” Crispy asked.

Smitty spoke up.

“It will take a few days to raid the arms dump. Let’s say five days from now.”

Everyone agreed with the timeline.

Smitty suddenly noticed the cat’s gold throat clasp flashing.
“Hey, what is that doing?”

Jerrix glanced down.

“Someone is contacting me,” he said pressing it twice.

As he did this, a ray of light shot out producing a holographic image.

“Who’s the girl?” Gerry asked.

“Shush,” Jerrix insisted.

In a faltering voice, the image of Tarra made the appeal.

“Jerrix, the ambassador knows where you are my friend. He is threatening to annihilate Moscow unless you hand yourself over. I only wish we had spoken under better circumstances.”

The image flashed once and faded. Jerrix lowered his eyes muttering, “Oh Tarra.”

It was Smitty who broke the silence.

“We cannot help the Russians. We have to follow the plan.”

“We can still help Moscow,” Jerrix insisted. “We can do both.”

“You are not thinking of surrendering are you?” Gerry asked.

“I have no right to deprive the Muscovites of their lives,” Jerrix muttered.

“Without you mate, we don’t have a chance,” Tommy warned.
Jerrix gazed around the group.

“You have a better chance really. They won’t be looking for me.”
He rose slowly and began to leave.

“Where are you off to?” Smitty asked in desperation.

“To give myself up. Don’t worry though. I keep my secrets.”

He opened the door and padded into the afternoon light. He made his way swiftly towards the flooded causeway and reaching it stopped. He gazed across at the mainland and waited.

After a deep breath, he activated the clasp’s signal and saw one of the machines responding. He watched, as it swung round before diving towards him. It stopped near his position.

Raising his paws he shouted, “I am Jerrix Tau.”

The machine fired a bolt and the cat vanished.

Jerrix found himself standing once more, in one of the many bleak prison ships. He gazed at the broken prisoners, some of them in tears. His eyes fell upon a young girl he recognised.

“Tarra!”

As she turned, he ran towards her and embraced.

“At least they did not harm you my dear.”

Tarra, still wearing her flowery dress, looked sheepish.

“Whatever’s the matter?” he asked.

“I’m sorry for that message Jerrix. They forced me to do it.”

“Oh I already knew that my dear. How is your mother by the way?”

“She managed to escape. I have no idea where she is.”

“Don’t worry. I’m sure she is safe.”

“What will happen to you?” she asked with concern written all over her face.

Jerrix smiled.

“Probably will be told off my dear. Slapped wrist, that sort of thing.”

She gazed at the black fur, with its cute white bib below the throat.

“You look rather snazzy now.”

He smiled as the new ambassador appeared.

Tarra nodded towards him.

“This looks like trouble.”

They watched as the machine slowly floated towards them.

“So, you are the replacement?” the cat said coldly.

The machine stopped.

“It is time to leave.”

Jerrix simply nodded slowly.

“Well my dear. Have to go now. Try to look after yourself.”

The young girl started sobbing openly.

Jerrix placed a reassuring paw upon her shoulder.

“There, there. It won’t be too bad.”

“You must go now,” the harsh voice of the ambassador insisted.

“Goodbye my dear,” Jerrix said softly as he was led off.

They crossed the vast metallic floor as a hidden door swished back. Slowly, like a funeral procession, they followed a corridor towards a thick metal door. The ambassador stopped as it slid open.

“You will enter now.”

Jerrix sighed and stepped across the threshold. As the door slid back, he gazed around the squat empty chamber and recognised it as an airlock.

“A few seconds out there and I will pop,” he muttered sadly.

His mind played back through his many adventures, his two faithful friends.

“You know Jerrix,” he said softly to himself. “At the end of the day, it was all for nothing.”

He turned toward the sealed door, wondering why they were waiting.
A harsh metallic voice broke into his faltering mind.

“Do you have any last words Jerrix Tau?”

The cat stared coldly at the reinforced door.

“You may have conquered earth, but you will never conquer man.”

Silence greeted him.

Jerrix turned in slow motion as the airlock slid silently open, sucking him into the cold darkness of space.

The encampment turned out to be a rather sorry affair. A small fire burned around a number of simple lean-to’s made from fallen bracken. Gerry counted no more than twenty armed men. It was interesting that women were absent.

Tamos brought his prizes cheering loudly.

“We have Jerrix boys. Now the prince will have to negotiate with us.”

The friends were pushed roughly to the ground and placed under guard.

“Will someone please explain what happened here?” the cat asked. “I helped your people.”

Tamos looked at him and knelt in front.

“About a year after your departure, the prince used the blight as an excuse to raise farming taxes. During that scourge, taxes were non-existent.”

Jerrix was shocked by the over simplification.

“People were dying of starvation mate. Are you seriously suggesting that I should not have helped?”

That put Tamos in a difficult position.

“That is not my point.”

“Then what is?” the cat demanded.

Tamos stroked his dark hair and patted his well-fed body.

“You should have known what you were dealing with. Had you known in advance, what would you have done?”

That was simple of course.

“I would have persuaded him against it. So after these taxes went up, you left and formed this motley bunch?”

Tamos gazed around his brown clad men.

“They are brave enough. Each one was a farmer. I pride myself that I trained them in the art of war.”

“Your gang does not stand a chance mate,” the cat warned him. “Just look at you. Mere amateurs.”

Tamos scoffed.

“We plan to strike his castle this very night,” he boasted. “If you really want to help you can come and watch.”

“Of course I want to help,” Jerrix said. “Just call off your attack.
Let me speak to the prince.”

“He may betray us,” a short ruffian suggested.

“Shut it Camly.”

He seemed to think before replying.

“We will show the prince how we feel by this attack. It is a show of force. I’ll bring you along as observer. If you have any suggestions...”

“I’ll come too,” Gerry chipped in.

Jerrix turned on him.

“No you won’t young man. I will not have you turned into noodles.”

Then Tamos spoke.

“He is right boy. That strange dress of yours will give us away. You will look after our fire.”

The cat smiled and said, “You know Tamos, I could not have put that better myself.”

Gerry did not like the idea but went along with it in order not to rock the boat. At least the rebel leader trusted them now.

As darkness fell around them, the band of rebels moved out quietly with Jerrix at the front alongside Tamos. He had declined a weapon on the grounds that he would not use it.

They plodded on for an hour until they reached the dark stone castle. Jerrix noticed the lack of defence ditch and the fact it was built on flat ground. The surrounding trees had been cleared which created a field of fire.

Four corner towers rose around it and the walls were castellated. A fancy term for battlements. Jerrix also noted the many arrow slits. It was a formidable fortification.

“You must be mad attacking this,” he commented. “Only ten of your men have crossbows, none have armour or shields. You will be cut to pieces.”

“You really think that you can convince the prince to change his ways?” Tamos asked.

“At least let me try.”

“Go on then but be careful.”

Jerrix broke cover and padded carefully across the open space. He was calculating that he could see better than the bowmen. When he reached a safe distance, by his estimate, he made his appeal.

“Hi there. I am Jerrix and demand to see the prince.”

He heard annoyed shouts and moments later a shower of bolts streaked toward him. He threw himself aside instinctively as they landed and heard Tamos scream, “Attack!”

As he lay perfectly flat, the rebels crossed into the open land and their archers opened up. As showers of bolts hurtled toward the defenders, the remaining ten surged forward yelling for all they were worth.

Within the castle, the defenders knew they were under attack. That was obvious. As the bolts crashed down, the rebels threw their ladders at the wall and began climbing upwards. The defenders knew how to deal with this.

A bowman fired down as his armoured colleague pushed the ladders down, stopping the assault in its tracks. Luckily, Tamos escaped the bolt, but he was fully aware of the desperate situation.

As the ladders collapsed, bolts hurtled down, cutting his small army in half. He noticed too that the gates were being opened, obviously to release the mounted knights.

Tamos had no option in the end. In a loud voice he shouted, “Pull back now.”

As they fled into the undergrowth, horsemen rode out in pursuit. A couple of them quickly located the cat, who raised his paws in abject surrender.

“Get inside,” the horsemen shouted poking him with their sharpened lances.

Jerrix hoped the surviving rebels would be safe as he was led inside the defensive position.

Once inside, he saw the others returning as he was prodded towards the centre of the enclosure. A knight climbed down and opened his visor.

“Scum,” he said pushing the cat onto the ground.

As he rolled, he heard the officer say roughly, “We shall make an example of you. Drag him to the block.”

Jerrix was grabbed roughly and dragged towards a tough wooden block, where his head was forced down.

“Now wait a minute,” he managed to mutter, as he saw the knight raise his sword for that final, fatal blow.
---
Jerrix closed his eyes, expecting his imminent end. Suddenly, a voice he recognised shouted out, “Release him at once.”

Jerrix opened his eyes and glancing up, saw the sword withdrawn. A welcoming hand helped him to his feet.

“Oh my dear Jerrix. You must forgive me for the actions of my men.”

Prince Ruprecht turned towards the knight and said indignantly, “Perhaps it is your head I should remove.”

Jerrix stepped in at once.

“That will not be necessary sire. He did not realise my status.”

The prince nodded and asked pleasantly, “We were not expecting you.”

The cat shook his head.

“It was meant as a fleeting visit sire. However, disturbing news has come to my ears.”

Looking very concerned, the prince led him into his royal residence, which was located at the rear of the enclosure.

The prince himself was dressed in a lavish blue top and green breaches. A small crown, decorated with precious stones, sat firmly upon his royal head.

Jerrix glanced around the expensive furnishings and gold laden throne. It was a sharp contrast to the misery of the rebels.

The prince led him to a lavish seat and they sat together.

“What have you been told?” the prince asked.

“You have raised the farm taxes sire. Much to the detriment of the people.”

“It is certainly true taxes have been raised Jerrix, but not for selfish reasons.”

“What other reasons are there?”

“We need to import grain until a full harvest is grown. As you are aware, that is not cheap.”

“I see. Do I take it that this is a temporary measure?”

“It is indeed. Before I could explain this, the rebel band was formed.”

“Now that I am in full possession of the facts may I suggest something?”

The prince smiled.

“Allow me to repeat this to the rebels with an amnesty from you.”

The prince nodded eagerly.

“That would be splendid Jerrix. You must spend the night here of course, before the morrow’s important mission.”

“Thank you sire. I certainly need my sleep.”

After sun up, the cat was led back to the enclosure where a steed had been prepared. Jerrix gazed at the magnificent black coated animal with its leather saddle.

“I remember your riding skills Jerrix,” the prince said. “Take care now.”

As the cat mounted, the prince nodded to his men and the gates were opened to allow him to leave.

Jerrix jabbed his paws and the horse trotted out into the open space. He jabbed again and the animal broke into a gallop as he guided it onto the dirt track. At this pace, it did not take long for him to reach the rebel camp.

As he drew up, the ten survivors armed themselves suspecting some kind of treachery. The cat was relieved to see Gerry still there.
Dismounting, he handed the reins to a rebel and stood quietly as Tamos spoke.

“It is obvious where you were last night.”

“For your information I was captured Tamos. If the prince had not intervened I would not be here.”

“So you supped with our butcher,” a lean rebel said.

“Actually, I am glad I did.”

“You had better explain yourself,” Tamos insisted.

“This tax you are fighting against is only temporary in nature,”
Jerrix explained. “The prince assured me it is only to pay for grain imports while a full harvest is absent.”

“You believe this?” Tamos asked.

Jerrix nodded.

“It is certainly feasible. The prince has also agreed to an amnesty, which I insisted upon.”

Tamos looked impressed.

“It seems that you have done well sir.”

“I did my best Tamos. How many men did you lose last night?”

“The ten you see here are all that remain.”

“Such useless slaughter. I hope now you can return to your homes and forget this rebellion.”

“I think we will Jerrix.”

Gerry stepped forward and said, “I suppose we can leave now.”

The cat nodded and was about to say farewell when the sound of approaching horses reached their ears. Everyone was rather startled by this development.

Jerrix whirled around and saw a column of knights coming towards them. He grabbed the schoolboy by the shoulders and said, “Return to the ship now.”

Pushing him away, he saw the rebels starting to scatter and seeing a sword lying on the ground he picked the weapon up.

Whirling it above his furry head he yelled, “Stand and meet them.”

The rebels stopped and watching this curious act, rejoined him.
Tamos stood at his side as the enemy approached.

“Seems you were betrayed my friend. You need not die with us this
day.”

Jerrix glared at him.

“I have no intention of dying anywhere Tamos.” He paused and ordered, “Cut their reins.”

The rebels saw the cat run at the armoured men swinging his weapon high. Moments later, they charged as well.

The sudden assault by this motley group took the trained fighters by complete surprise. As the enemy closed rapidly, they had problems drawing their weapons.

The rebels closed and saw Jerrix severing the reins of the first knight he met. As the horse reared, the knight was thrown clear and the cat went for him. Without hesitating, he smashed the sword down across the knight’s head and body as the poor man floundered.

He finally got the visor open and stabbed the sword tip through the gap. The body lay very still.

As this battle occurred, the rebels were slashing at the reins of their enemy, following the cat’s example. Some of the horsemen tried to flee but were quickly cut down. As swords struck home, rivulets of blood soaked the dry earth.

Jerrix turned to see numerous bodies lying near the camp. Luckily, none of the rebels had been lost on this occasion. The men cheered but Jerrix remained silent. Even when Tamos patted his back.

“We showed them our metal my friend. Thanks to you. You would make a great commander.”

Jerrix nodded in silence.

“It is not over Tamos. Now we have to finish this once and for all.”
---
After stripping the bodies of their weapons, the cat advised they move to a safer location in case of a counter strike. Tamos took his advice and left the schoolboy to kick his heels in the safety of the ship.

As they retreated, Jerrix mind was whirring as usual.

“You will have to strengthen your army Tamos. Go to the surrounding villages, and tell the people and farmers to arm themselves for a final battle.”

“You plan to assault the castle after what happened last time?”

“I do indeed my friend. I’m now convinced the prince must be removed and that your good self should replace him.”

“I am no ruler Jerrix.”

“Then you must become one sir. Be lenient to those who surrender and drop this abominable tax.”

“I hear what you are saying sir, but how can the fortress be taken?”

The cat smiled.

“Just gather your army and I will reveal all. Make sure you bring braziers full of gypsum.”

Tamos understood at once.

“Burning arrows.”

“Spot on my friend. We will burn that damn door down and raid the place.”

They reached a small stream and decided to stop there. As his men rested their weary legs, Tamos left to gather more armed men.

Jerrix did not allow the weary to rest long though. He forced them to make more bolts for their crossbows while arranging fallen branches into some kind of defensive perimeter. When he was convinced they could repel a second attack, he allowed them to collapse where they were.

Many thoughts passed through his mind as they waited. The prince had been a good man, last time he had been here. Perhaps the blight had affected his mind. Or perhaps despotism had taken hold.

Within two hours, Tamos returned with around fifty armed men. Jerrix looked at their simple garments and weapons. Some carried wood axes. Other just pitchforks. It was pitiful really, but obviously the best they could do.

Tamos pointed to them.

“All I could gather. We brought the brazier as asked.”

Jerrix nodded.

“You should be made aware,” he said. “That some of you may not return to your families after this night. Your prince is no longer fit to rule and must be removed. With my help, you can achieve this. Now rest yourselves. Tonight, your history changes.”

As they sat, Tamos congratulated him.

“You spoke well. It is a pity that you will leave us again.”

“This is your world Tamos. Not mine. I only wish violence could be avoided.”

As night fell and no knights appeared, the small force-marched off to do battle with their mortal enemies. None had armour of course. All were armed and extremely brave.

Two carried the brazier, which was their strongest weapon. After a couple of hours of trudging, they reached the edge of the wooded area and gazed upon the enemy stronghold.

As quietly as possible, the brazier was lit and Jerrix organised them as best he could. The plan was a simple one to be sure but it had a realistic chance of success.

When everything was ready, the desperate action began. The bowmen opened up first, targeting the battlements in order to keep the defenders heads down.

Moments later, small-unarmed groups carrying dry bracken, dashed across the cleared field of fire and stacked it against the wooden entrance. After running back, the bowmen let rip with flaming bolts.
The material ignited, flames roaring high into the air. Further bolts were fired to prevent defenders pouring buckets of water onto it. Jerrix and Tamos watched the burning entrance with satisfaction.

“At least the horsemen won’t be able to ride through that,” Tamos commented.

As the assault progressed, the flames began to break through the entrance. At this point, Tamos gave a yell and his army ran to the attack. Unlike last time, none were lost.

On reaching the entrance, the rebels smashed through the burning wood until it finally gave way. Then they stormed inside. Jerrix had not joined this.

He stood quietly beyond, wishing them well. He heard the screams of the wounded and dying, as the fighting raged inside. It was over within an hour.

Only at this point, did he saunter in to see Tamos. He saw the small palace burning fiercely and the bodies of the dead. A couple of knights had been taken alive and to his relief were being treated well.

Tamos was cradling a wounded arm but he was smiling ruefully.

“We only lost six men Jerrix. Less than I dared think of.”

“What happened to the prince?”

“He chose to fight to the end. I gave him an honourable death.”

The cat shook his head sadly.

“Try to remember this Tamos. There is no such thing. Build a better and fairer society for your people.”

They shook on it, and the cat padded off and towards his waiting ship.

He found Gerry sitting upon the floor looking rather bored.

“All finished?” he asked glancing up.

“All finished young man,” the cat replied.

He pulled the north statue lever and watched as the galactic map formed over the metallic dome. Two small dots were flashing as usual.

“Where are we off to now?” he asked standing up.

Jerrix glanced up and said sadly, “Why not Earth.”
---
HMS Trident nosed through the choppy North Sea heading for Southampton. The crew had completed a short tour of duty in Norway and were looking forward to a little time off.

Rear gunner Tommy Anderson, a burly chap with ginger hair and wicked sense of humour sat with his crewmates in the mess, eating their traditional breakfast of beans, sausage and chips. Alongside this meal sat a small glass of rum. This tradition was frowned upon by the Admiralty, but on this ship the captain allowed it.

Tommy had just swallowed another chip and was tasting his rum, when the captain’s voice floated through the air.

“All hands to action stations. This is not a drill.”

Tommy froze, despite his training. Everyone did. You simply did not go to battle alert in the quiet North Sea. An officer in the mess cut across these thoughts.

“You heard...Out!”

Tommy ran, as did everyone else. He dashed through the corridors until he clambered up a metal ladder and entered his battle position.
His loader stood ready as Tommy pulled on his flash protection. Upon a computer screen, small dots were rapidly appearing.

“They are not aircraft,” he muttered as he donned his earphones and mouthpiece.

“Rear gunner ready sir.”

A voice barked in response.

“Engage the enemy.”

More shocked than he realised, Tommy engaged the system and the twin guns slewed. With perfect radar control, they began firing as the loader worked frantically. The screen clearly showed the shell bursts but no hits.

Tommy cursed as the dots broke through and explosions rattled the ship. Despite the cordite, he continued firing as targets presented themselves.

A sudden blast somewhere towards the centre of the cruiser took out the power and the computer screen went dark.

“Blast!” Tommy muttered as the weapon became useless.

“Come on,” his colleague shouted. “We should get out of here.”

Tommy opened the escape hatch and climbed out onto a burning deck. Flames and blasts rocked the stricken ship as the enemy streaked overhead.

“Who are they?” his colleague asked desperately. “Russians?”

Tommy stared up, and saw huge star shaped machines swooping down and gasped, “I don’t think so...”

Seconds later he saw one of these intruders fire a pink ray, which struck close to their position. A huge explosion tore the ship apart and the resulting blast tossed Tommy overboard.

He hit the salt water savagely, gasping for air as he surfaced. To his right, he saw the broken ship split in two and begin sinking. In utter desperation, he swam towards the distant shore. His colleague was nowhere to be seen.

Smitty was the name he was known by. A fighter pilot with experience of modern war he brought his Tornado to a halt after yet another patrol over British airspace. Only the day before, he had intercepted a Russian Bear as it lazily approached the UK air defence area.

He was relieved when the old nuclear bomber turned back.

He was about to cut the power and remove his helmet when the controller broke in.

“Scramble, scramble, scramble...”

Instinctively he pushed the stick forward, adjusting the throttle as he did so. The Tornado turned to face the runway exit as he increased the power. As seconds ticked by, he reached the necessary v3 and pulled the stick back.

The warplane lifted into the air as the black wheels retracted, and Smitty spoke into his mask.

“This is T1. Airborne. Request bogey location.”

A voice, seemingly emotional, answered.

“Flight level east, two-three-hundred.”

Smitty thanked him and set the info into his on-board computer. The aircraft gained height rapidly and the pilot began gazing around.

Everything seemed normal. He was about to query the order, when he saw something break through the cloud cover. To his trained eyes, he knew they did not come from Russia.

These were huge, star shaped machines glinting in the burning sun.

“Engage T1.”

Engaging was the problem. He was only armed with side cannon. Over Britain, Sidewinder missiles were never fitted for safety reasons.
He pulled the craft around and opened up as a machine streaked past.

“Hit it,” he barked but the machine continued. Seemingly undamaged.

“Negative kill, repeat. Negative kill.”

He pulled the Tornado around and locked on once more.

Cannon shells spat out, clearly striking the target but without effect. As he pulled away, he heard a crack from his controller station, followed by an ominous silence.

“Control, do you copy?”

Only silence now.

That momentary distraction was all it took. A sudden explosion from the rear indicated a direct hit. He fought desperately with the controls as the Tornado lost altitude. He spotted the coast and saw something astonishing and alarming at the same time.

A grey shape, which he recognised as a British cruiser, was clearly burning. As he watched, he realised he had better bail out and pulled the lever.

His canopy was blown clear before small rockets propelled him into the air. His stricken plane dived into the ground as his chute deployed safely. He gazed around at the diving machines, noting that the cruiser was sinking fast.

As he saw another approach, he ditched the seat, deploying his personal chute. He swept over the coast and out to sea before splashing down fairly gently.

He struggled clear, and began swimming slowly toward the distant shore.

“At least,” he muttered. “My training works.”

He swam on, wondering where these machines came from. He also knew something else.

His planet was being invaded.

Ben thought over that last statement carefully.

“So it’s not about simply bashing the stake through their inhuman chests?”

Father Cuthbert shook his head sadly.

“I sometimes wish that it was. You see, vampires have a knack of knowing when they are in danger. This usually wakes them up. An inexperienced hunter would almost certainly be going to his death.”

“So how do we avoid that?”

“Truth is we don’t. We just have to make sure that we are a little smarter, that’s all.”

The preacher lifted up the leather bag and escorted Ben out of the chapel and into the now busy street.

“You have any idea where they could be resting?”

The father smiled pleasantly.

“There is one place in town where they would feel safe. That old derelict house.”

“I know the one you mean,” Ben replied. “Shall we walk or take a taxi?”

The preacher ignored the question and proceeded to walk briskly toward their destiny.

The shoppers ignored the strange couple as they followed the main street in a northerly direction, not stopping until the traffic lights came into view.

“You can back out now if you wish.”

Ben shook his head.

“I’ve come this far father. May as well see it through.”

“Suit yourself.”

The priest led the way across the road and stopped, gazing at the old front porch.

“It certainly looks the part.”

“Are we going inside then?” Ben asked.

“You are a little over eager you know. This will be no picnic.”

The reporter smiled as he walked toward the closed door and pushed gently.

“It’s damn dusty in here,” he muttered.

“What do you expect? Vamps don’t do the hoovering.”

Ben stepped gingerly inside the empty room, the thick dust making him cough violently.

The priest followed and gazed around with wide-open eyes.

“Those stairs lead to the upper floor,” he muttered. “The pigs may be up there.”

He placed his bag upon the floor and opened it swiftly. He handed the cross to Ben whilst arming himself with the stake and mallet.

“You lead the way.”

The reporter was rather shocked.

“What if they appear?”

“Shove it into their faces man!”

Ben took a breath and began the slow ascent toward the bedroom door, where the two creatures were indeed asleep. As he reached it, he suddenly began shaking nervously.

“Just let me calm down a moment.”

The priest stood at his side as the reporter tried to get a grip.

“I think that I’m ready now.”

The priest watched as the door was quietly pushed open and their eyes saw the couple lying atop the soiled sheets.

“What are you two up to?” a loud voice called.

The priest whirled around and spotted a curious law enforcement officer staring from the lower floor.

Ben felt his blood run cold as the couple stirred restlessly.

“Come down here now.”

The priest shrugged his shoulders and began to make his way down again as Ben shrugged his shoulders.

“We are just looking around,” Father Cuthbert assured the officer.

“With those weapons? Give me a break father.”

Ben had still not moved and made a rather rash decision. He ignored the intruder and entered the room slowly. As he did so, the door slammed shut at once. The priest whirled and said, “We have to help him.”

The officer drew his weapon and muttered, “You just stay here a second.”

Within the dark bedroom, Ben seemed to be frozen to the spot. The couple were now fully awake and staring at him coldly.

“A policeman is coming up behind me,” Ben stammered.

Trayhas leapt from the bed and knocked the cross from his shaking hand.

“You brought him here?”

Ben shook his head violently.

“Nothing to do with me.”

“Kill him Trayhas!”

The vampire heard the cop reach the top step and made an instant decision. He grabbed the reporter by the throat and pulled the door open. Stepping through swiftly, he tossed him at the startled officer.

As the mortals crashed down the steps, he slammed the door shut again.

“It’s ruddy daylight!”

Hollandia became suddenly afraid at those awful words.

“They will kill us for sure.”

“Not if I have anything to do with it.”

He stepped toward the bed and as she rolled off, dragged it toward the door. She watched as he lifted it up, creating quite a formidable barricade.

“That should hold them for a while.”

“All day my love?”

He shook his head.

“It will only buy us a little time my sweet. No worries though, I’ve been in far tighter spots than this.”

Below the floor, the policeman’s body lay sprawled as Ben stood shakily.

“His neck is broken father.”

The priest ran for the dangerous staircase and leapt up two steps at a time. When he found the door firmly closed he began pounding with a fist.

“Open up damn you!”

Ben quickly joined him and gave it a hard kick.

“They must have locked it.”

“They shall not escape that easy my friend,” the priest said thinking rapidly.

He took the cross from the reporter’s hand and thrust it against the woodwork.

“What good will that do?”

Ben watched as smoke began drifting from the door.
“Where evil dwells, this jewellery shall seek it out.”

Within the room, the odour of charring wood was clearly detectable.

“They must have found petrol,” Hollandia gasped.

Trayhas knew better of course.

“The damn crucifix! Step back a moment.”

They did so as the smoke turned to true flame.

“We are finished now!”

“Would you shut up?” Trayhas demanded.

He watched the flames mount toward the top jam and began calculating the odds.

“This is going to be a little tricky love. Wish me luck eh?”

As the door became a veritable inferno, his foot lashed out viciously. The weakened door splintered at once and he leapt through, colliding with his enemies. As they crashed down, he looked around with wild eyes.

“Dead eh? Not quite I think.”

He dashed to the front door and slammed it shut as flames reached the rafters. Turning sharply he noted that the mortals were moving onto the steps.

“Fancy frying with me then?”

Cuthbert shook his head as screams came from inside the bedroom.

“You will never escape this,” the priest said confidently. “The sun will turn you to ash, if the flames don’t get you first.”

Trayhas simply smiled and spread his palms slowly.

“So be it father. I’m ready if you are.”

Father Cuthbert moved down the steps even as flames tore across the wooden ceiling. From behind Ben, the screams had ceased from the bedroom.

“I’ll put an end to your vices!”

Trayhas laughed in his face as the priest reached the floor.

“We have to get out of here!” Ben yelled as smoke billowed around him.

Trayhas dashed toward the far wall as the priest pursued him.

“You can leave Ben; I have to finish this now!”

The terrified reporter dashed for the door and threw it open. He turned and saw the priest lunge with the stake.

“Goodbye father,” he muttered before scrambling for safety.

As he staggered free, the flames erupted through the open door as a final battle reached its deadly climax.

Trayhas had sidestepped the strike and smashed his fist across the priest’s exposed neck. As he went down, burning debris fell and blocked the exit.

“At least I got you monster!”

Trayhas reached down, kicking away the weapons before hauling him above his head.

“No one gets me holy man. I appear to be immortal.”

Trayhas threw the poor man upon the burning pyre, his screams echoing around the smoke filled space.

Ben was watching from the road as the upper floor collapsed into the main room, the ring of sirens filling his ears.

“Oh father...”

He realised how difficult an explanation would be and ran toward the lights, even as a thin mist rose above the raging inferno.

When the fire tenders arrived, the wreckage could not be saved, so the firemen simply sprayed it lightly with water. For over an hour, the water hissed upon the hot embers until the flames went out at last.

When the sun set, only whorls of smoke indicated that a building had ever been there.

Safely inside his home, Ben sat upon his bed thinking the events over.

“No one will ever believe this tale. Even I find it hard to believe.”

A white mist drifted under the locked door and crept silently toward him.

“Oh I don’t know.”

Ben glanced up and yelped at the vision of the eternal predator.

“You can’t be...”

“Flames cannot harm us when we dissolve into mist young man. Neither can the sun for that matter.”

He saw Ben glance toward the cabinet where the cross sat waiting.

“Don’t be a fool,” Trayhas hissed. “I just popped in to say farewell.”

“You are leaving us?”

The cloaked creature nodded sadly.

“Time to move on young man. Canada has proven a little hot for my taste.”

“Where will you go?”

Trayhas shrugged his manly shoulders.

“Somewhere a little quieter. Try to remember this experience. Few mortals encounter me and live to tell the tale.”

Ben saw the figure vanish within a cloud of mist before seeping under the door once more. He stood from the bed and wandered toward the window. He gazed out at a familiar dark world, a world that now looked decidedly unsafe...Finis...

The woman reappeared and gazed down upon the two severed corpses.

“Sadly for Jerrix, this unearthly timeline must be allowed to continue.”

She waived her arm once more and faded from sight as Trayhas sat bolt upright.

“Hollandia wake up!”

She did so slowly, the dark dress with those golden sequins clinging to her lithe body.

“What happened?”

“Our food did a runner. That’s what happened!”

They both stood and scanned as young Richard continued his flight towards his home, and that rather lonely ball.

“He is not that far off,” she muttered.

“We should teach him a lesson then,” he responded.

Hollandia smiled coldly.

“Like the lesson that I had planned for him?”

Trayhas smiled.

“I was dying to watch my dear.”

They took to the air as young Richard ran across a silent road in sheer terror.

He did not notice the constable, until he literally ran into him.

“Where are you running to young man?”

The young lad gazed up at him with wild eyes.

“They are after me.”

“Who is?”

Richard turned and pointed toward the now distant swing park.

“The creatures.”

The constable laughed even as the pursuers landed nearby.

“I should take you home to your parents.”

Richard froze as the two figures walked into view.

“There they are!”

The constable drew his handgun as they stopped nearby.

“Stay exactly where I can see you.”

The animals gazed at each other and the female smiled.

“As if you’re puny weapon could harm us.”

Trayhas looked on coldly as his evil bride advanced.

“If you let us have him officer, you will not be harmed.”

The cool officer fired thrice but the bullets had absolutely no effect. Hollandia shook her head sadly before smashing the clumsy weapon from his hand.

“Tut, tut...Now you are really in trouble.”

The officer swung a clenched fist but she caught it easily.

“Now is that the way to treat a lady?”

She threw him down as Trayhas grabbed the young chap.

“Let us have some sport,” he commented, dragging the lad over.

“Hollandia was now sitting upon the officer’s chest as Richard screamed at the top of his young voice.

“Let me give you some advice young man,” she whispered. “Keep it quiet and you may just escape from this horror.”

Richard nodded and kept silent as she tore the officer’s trousers off.

“As for you,” she whispered coldly. “Just say goodnight.”

She stretched down and tore out his throat whilst lapping at the fountain of life. Richard nearly fainted as the cop died before his eyes.

Hollandia looked up at the young lad. Looked up at her inhuman companion.

“Do what you like to him.”

Trayhas smiled coldly and pushed the lad toward the ground. As
Richard went down, he folded the dark cloak back exposing himself.

“Always fancied young meat.”

He knelt and pulled the lad toward him, before his razor sharp teeth ripped the cloth apart. A wet finger thrust into the exposed fundament before his eager member replaced it.

Richard screamed in absolute agony as he was sodomised, the creature thrusting against the soft globes without mercy.

When it was at last over, Hollandia left the cooling corpse and stood over the lad’s tearful face.

“Think yourself lucky young man. At least you will die with my odour across your damn lips. She grabbed his auburn hair and lifting her dress upward, thrust his face between the exposed thighs.

Richard found himself gazing upon her womanly organ. He smelt the rank odour of death and refused to cooperate.

Hollandia became rather annoyed and trapped the young head between her iron thighs.

“If you won’t pleasure me young man, then I shall still have some fun.”

She closed the flesh around him and twisted violently. A loud crack rent the air as the human neck was severed at last. Hollandia reached down and lifted it toward her waiting mouth.

As the blood poured down her waiting throat, Trayhas grabbed the head from her.

“I think that you have had quite enough for now my dear.”

He tossed the mangled piece of garbage and placed his strong arms around her shoulders.

“I think we should get back to our bed, don’t you?”

She smiled as they both transmuted, and took to the night air once again. Their departure had been noted however, by an eagle-eyed individual who had suspected the truth regarding the serial killings. His camera had flashed repeatedly, as the bats vanished amongst the dark clouds of that grim night.

Ben rushed into his editor’s office at nine the next morning with the photos clutched eagerly in his right hand.

“You won’t believe what I photographed last night.”

The editor sighed deeply as the pictures were scattered upon his desk. Casually lifting one, he peered at the crisp image.

“So it shows a couple...”

Ben drew his attention to the others.

“They left bodies behind. I’ve spent all night with our police.”

“They don’t suspect you I hope?”

Ben shook his head firmly.

“They were more eager to identify them. The culprits I mean.”

The editor scratched his head, peering at a second photo.

“This is some special effect. How did you manage it?”

“That shows them transforming. I have said all along that we have a vamp problem.”

The editor raised his rather bushy eyebrows.

“Canada has no such problem. Obviously a pair of nutcases. Did you really have to doctor the pictures?”

“I was there remember. I saw them change with my own eyes.”

Through his many years, this editor had heard many tall stories but this claim took the biscuit.

“I can’t run them Ben. The paper would become a laughing stock.”

The reporter smashed a balled fist upon the desk.

“You can’t block this. This is the scoop of the century!”

The editor looked at his lackey with sorrowful eyes.

“Perhaps you should take a rest for a while. You are showing signs of stress.”

“I’ll show you stress mate,” he replied gathering up his pictures.

As he proceeded to march out the editor called out, “Take a few days off Ben. You’ll come back almost new.”

Ben slammed the door on leaving and only stopped when he reached the busy street.

“Someone has got to believe me. The cops certainly thing something fishy is going on. I know what I’ll do. I’ll talk to father Cuthbert.”

He walked briskly across town until he spotted the Catholic chapel.

“I just hope he is not on holiday.”

When he entered the modern building, he was relieved to see the priest kneeling before the image of our Lord.

“I truly need your help father.”

The middle-aged priest crossed himself before rising to receive the anxious individual.

“What can I do for you today?”

Ben smiled and placed the photos into his warm hand.

“I need your opinion on these sir.”

The priest glanced down at the crisp images and began flicking through them slowly.

“Are these genuine?”

Ben nodded as the priest grimaced at the corpses.

“I know what those beings are father.”

The priest stopped and handed them back.

“Nosferatu my son. What do the police think?”

“That I doctored the photos of transformation, but they copied them all anyway.”

“At least the miscreants have been identified my son. Perhaps now they can be caught.”

“I damn hope so father. Do you know how to do it?”

The priest smiled and nodded toward a rear room.

“You had better follow me and see.”

When the reporter reached the room, he was astonished to see a shelf full of vampire lore.

“I am a bit of a collector you see.”

“Doesn’t the diocese mind?”

“They regard it as an odd distraction but no. Some of those volumes go back to the fourteenth century.”

“So you must believe in them, right?”

The priest nodded firmly.

“The bloodsuckers have been around since the dawn of man my son. I always thought Canada was free of them though.”

“Not anymore sir. The thing is can we destroy them?”

The priest nodded wearily and pointed to a small chipboard cupboard.

“Can you remove my tools?”

Ben opened it up and brought out the green leather bag. As the priest opened it, the reporter saw the cross, a mallet, and a sharpened piece of aspen.

“Sadly my son, this is the only way.”

Ben scratched his head trying to think.

“We still have a problem father. Trying to track them down.”

“That may be much easier than you think. The real trouble starts then.”

To be continued...

Their upward movement ended with them slamming into the ceiling, where the fan supports were located. Jerrix grabbed Gerry and pulled him towards him.

“Hold on to this bar my friend.”

“Thanks. How can we get out of here?”

Jerrix pointed to the control box below the swirling blades.

“I will have to shin down there. I only hope it’s not bolted.”

Gerry watched as he did this, crouching over the intended target. He examined the box and sighed when he noticed the Perspex cover.

“This won’t take long,” he shouted up.

He managed to stand and brought his foot down sharply. Moments later, the blades slowed to a final stop.

“Now shin down beside me Gerry.”

When he did so, the cat pointed to the floor.

“Do you think you can jump?”

“Do I have an option?”

The cat smiled and said, “Not really.”

Gerry looked down before stepping into space. The landing was fairly hard but he managed it. Jerrix landed beside him and they saw the exit swish open.

Jerrix glanced at him saying, “Here we go again.”

In the next chamber they found a circular device and reaching it saw a number of coloured bars. Eight of them in all. Gerry was fairly puzzled.

“Some kind of puzzle,” he commented.

“Seems like it. Now let me see...”

The cat studied it carefully before arranging four of the bars into a square base. Then he balanced the remaining four from the corners to form a pyramid.

As the exit opened, the jubilant feline muttered, “Voila.”

Gerry shook his head as the cat beamed.

“Now that was a little too easy. I suspect something nasty is waiting through there.”

“I hope not,” Gerry replied as they walked through.

Jerrix had been correct of course. They found themselves confronted with an armed knight who was obviously an automated construct.

“Well, well,” Jerrix muttered. “It seems we are being forced to
fight.”

The knight was armed with a sword and axe and a grating voice addressed them.

“Choose your weapon.”

For Jerrix, the choice was obvious.

“Throw me the axe.”

The knight tossed the weapon across and the cat caught it expertly.

“Now Gerry stay put. Let me deal with him.”

“Be my guest,” the boy replied folding his arms.

Jerrix moved forward moving around the knight carefully.

“You are a gorgeous machine. It would be shameful to damage you.”

The knight replied by swinging the sword and moving forward. Blades crashed as the cat defended himself, stepping back and blocking the thrust.

The knight countered by stepping left and swinging the blade head wards. Jerrix ducked as a foot lashed out, sending him sprawling across the floor.

Gerry gasped as the knight advanced slashing down. The cat rolled clear and sprang up shaking his head.

“This is getting really tricky.”

He watched as the knight circled once more before the sword slashed again. The cat blocked it before stepping back and swirling around violently with axe raised.

He felt the crunch as the blade struck, severing the helmet from the shoulders. As it rolled across the floor, the useless body collapsed. Jerrix dropped the axe, panting heavily.

The exit opened and the friends padded through.

“Seems like you have fenced before,” Gerry said.

“It was a long time ago. Not something that I wanted to repeat.”

In the next chamber, they found a simple blackboard standing on an easel. They moved towards it and saw the following puzzle, written in white chalk.

If a=30 and c=4770? What does b=?

Jerrix folded his paws.

“You can solve that one Gerry.”

The boy looked at the puzzle, taking a piece of chalk in his fingers. After a moment, he wrote 2400.

“Add 30 to 4770 and divide by two,” Jerrix said. “Well done lad.”

As the chalk was replaced, the exit was revealed and they stepped through. They found themselves in a white padded chamber.

“Now what?” Gerry asked.

“Your guess is as good as my own.”

Gerry glanced around and spotted the gasmasks hanging from a hook. Next to them hung to pairs of gloves. The hidden meaning was rather ominous.

The schoolboy ran forward and pulled them down before tossing a mask and gloves towards the cat.

“Put these on,” he insisted.

Jerrix needed no urging.

As soon as they were protected, red smoke began seeping into the cell, pouring from an upper vent. As the cat watched, Gerry clambered onto the wall and began climbing.

“Velcro gloves,” the cat muttered.

As Gerry clambered higher, ignoring his fear of heights, he reached the high ceiling and spotted two controls. He pushed the first and the smoke stopped escaping. After pushing the second, the gas was sucked out. He clambered down as the exit opened.

Removing the gear, they walked through and saw an even stranger sight. Midway across a darkened chamber, a target swung on a metallic chain. Jerrix saw the loaded crossbow lying upon the dark floor.

He picked the weapon up and said, “We only get one chance at this.”

“Better not miss then,” Gerry replied smiling.

The cat carefully aimed and when he was sure, pressed the trigger.
To his understandable relief, it struck home. As it did so, the final door opened.

The cat smiled and dropped the crossbow.

“Nearly there.”
---
Entering the next room slowly, Jerrix and Gerry found themselves looking at another chasm. A single tube crossed this space towards the exit point.

I can’t cross that,” the schoolboy insisted. “I’ll fall off.”

“You will have to Gerry. I think this is the final test.”

At that moment, arrows started firing from right to left and the cat glared.

“I hate being used for target practice.”

“This is a death trap,” Gerry commented.

“This whole labyrinth has been a death trap,” the cat reminded him.

Jerrix looked into the surrounding darkness and noticed struts bolted to the walls.

“You had better stay here,” he said. “I have to do a bit of climbing.”

Gerry watched as he eased across the ledge and leapt. He grabbed the first strut and swinging expertly reached a second. Arrows flew but they were nowhere near him.

“Is there a way around?” the boy asked.

“Not quite. I can see some kind of lever here.”

Jerrix swung and reached the final strut. Reaching up, he pulled the lever down and to his relief, the arrows stopped.

“That was a lot easier than I thought,” the cat muttered, swinging his way back to the ledge.

“I still can’t cross this?” Gerry complained as the exit door swished open.

Jerrix tapped his shoulder gently.

“Just follow my example.”

He stepped onto the tube, and with paws outstretched made his way across gingerly. Gerry held his breath until the cat was across. After reaching safety, Jerrix turned towards him and said, “As easy as pie. Now come on.”

Seconds later a lone arrow swished from nowhere, striking the cat squarely in the chest. He staggered back, before toppling through the exit.

Gerry’s hand was over his mouth now in silent shock. Forgetting his instinctive fear, he climbed on and placing one foot in front of the other, made his way to safety. He expected an arrow to cut him down, but to his eternal relief, nothing happened.

Scrambling off, he jumped through the exit and saw the cat lying side on upon a metallic floor. The arrow had been pulled out, but his breathing was torturous.

Gerry quickly knelt beside him.

“This wasn’t the last test,” he muttered. “We are inside another room.”

Jerrix rolled onto his back gasping.

“That is the problem with prisons,“ he said weakly. “Even when you escape, they are loath to release you.”

“I think you are badly wounded,” the boy said shaking with fear.

Jerrix shook his furry head slowly.

“Press my throat clasp.”

Gerry did so and saw the soft green glow of the ship appear.

“We can leave,” the boy exclaimed.

“Now go,” the cat whispered.

“I’m not leaving you.”

“You won’t have to, I’m coming with you. At least after I change colour.”

His eyes closed and the body went still and silent. Gerry simply stared as the form faded to a spectral image. He expected it to vanish completely when it returned to solidity once more.

The eyes opened and the cat scrambled to his feet. Gerry stood as well, mouth gaping.

“Something the matter young man?”

Gerry pointed.

“Your fur’s gone black and a white bib is below your throat. Even your eyes have gone yellow.”

“Don’t you worry now,” Jerrix said placing a paw upon his shoulder. “I think we should leave, don’t you?”

Gerry allowed himself to be led into the soft green light. As they reached it, they promptly vanished.
---
As the two friends walked from the ship, it was obvious that they had been arguing.

“Look, I don’t want to know who imprisoned us. With that kind of
power they are best left alone.”

“That’s just cowardice,” Gerry told him.

“You simply have no idea young man. We only just got out of there you know.”

Gerry was not satisfied by his explanations. So he turned to the subject of the ship.

“I think you need a scanner Jerrix. We never know if it is safe to go outside.”

Jerrix stopped.

“The ship would never land us somewhere without air young man. I have never needed such a device and do not intend to put one in now.”

“Oh, that is just silly.”

“I know what is wrong with you. You just want to leave.”
Gerry scowled.

“I have no intention of leaving. This is my only chance to explore the galaxy. I won’t turn that down. Where are we anyway?”

This show of interest calmed the cat down. As it was intended to.

“Terros Six young man. I was here donkey’s back. Helped them with
their crop blight you know. Thanks to my intervention, thousands were saved.”

“You must be proud of that achievement.”

Jerrix smiled.

“Naturally. It’s not all death and destruction you know. Now, if I remember rightly, this dirt track will take us to Prince Ruprecht’s castle.”

“There are real castles here?”

“Terros six has not advanced since the thirteenth century young man. I rather like it.”

Gerry saw the dirt track they were following as it wended its way through the thick forest. In the near distance, unusual grunts drifted towards them. The schoolboy felt a little nervous.

“I suppose you know what those are.”

The cat pricked up his ears and said, “Sounds like wild hogs. We should be safe enough. Unless of course it is the mating season.”

“Then I hope it is not,” Gerry said.

As he spoke, hoof beats suddenly approached and Gerry saw four riders in full gleaming armour making their way through the trees. He watched with open mouth.

“Well,” Jerrix muttered as the riders rode out of sight. “No chance of a lift then.”

“I feel a long walk coming on,” Gerry suggested.

“Long and rather hot I am afraid. This black fur makes me a little too warm.”

Gerry smiled. He actually liked it. His dad’s cat was similarly attired.

They made their way along the potted track, hogs grunting seeming to follow. Gerry saw a movement under the surrounding trees. He quickly realised they were only dead leaves being disturbed in the breeze.

As the cat’s blue cloak fluttered, the bed of leaves rose and ruffians surrounded them with swords drawn.
Jerrix raised his paws in surrender. Gerry thought it best to follow suit.

“What do we have here?” the tallest ruffian asked. “A pair of toffs
perhaps?”

Jerrix stared at him coldly.

“If you stop prodding me with that sword I may answer that.”

“Perhaps I should just slit you and save me the trouble.”

A smaller ruffian stepped forward and said, “Tamos, perhaps we can bargain for their release.”

On hearing the name, Jerrix lowered his paws.

“Tamos? Prince Ruprecht’s bodyguard?”

Tamos was surprised.

“Former if you please. You know me?”

“We never met,” Jerrix told him. “I spoke to the prince concerning the crop blight.”

Tamos laughed.

“You must be Jerrix then. The source of all our troubles. We have made an elegant catch indeed.”

“What do you mean troubles?” the cat demanded.

Tamos lowered his weapon and said, “Take them to our camp boys. I smell gold here.”

The band of ruffians manhandled the friends into the encroaching forest and toward their encampment.

“What do you think will happen to us?” Gerry asked fearfully.

The cat shook his furry head.

“That depends on Tamos I am afraid. If the prince does not play ball. Well...”

He did not need to finish. His meaning was as plain as the pimple on your nose.

The street was dark and deserted as he turned the corner. Just ahead lay the now empty pram and beside that, the corpse of the butchered mother.

When Jerrix reached her, he quickly knelt and examined the gaping throat wound.

“This was done with fingers. No damn teeth marks. They seem to have taken the child with them.”

He stood once more and glanced around rapidly.

“If I was a blood drinker where would I go?”

He thought this over for a moment before smiling to himself.

“Obviously somewhere dark and safe. That may be harder to find than I think.”

Jerrix pricked up his fluffy ears and listened intently, until he heard something deadly sinister.

“I just hope that’s what I’m looking for, and not some masquerade ball gone mad!”

He marched off towards that sinister sound, as the two dark creatures played with their latest meal.

Richard had been playing with his ball until sunset, and decided to visit the local swing park for a bit of a change.

A rather smart twelve year old, he had always sought out new pleasures but never imagined the terror of tonight. Not even in his wildest nightmares.

As he sat upon the rocking horse, a dark couple slowly drifted towards him.

“Hello young man,” Trayhas said politely. “Fancy seeing you here.”

Richard smiled back, even as the weird woman knelt beside him.

“Who might you be?”

“I’m Hollandia and this gent is my partner, Trayhas.”

“Those are strange names.”

Hollandia turned her head and asked, “What do you want to do with him?”

Trayhas thought it over for a moment before reversing the question.

“What would you like to do?”

The evil ***** simply smiled and took Richard by the hand.

“Would you like me to show you something?”

“Depends what that is.”

She lifted him off and put him down gently.

“It’s a really interesting surprise.”

Richard put his finger to his lips and replied, “Then I‘m definitely interested.”

Hollandia smiled and patted his auburn hair gently. She was about to turn vicious when a strange voice halted this train of thought.

“Let the kid go now!”

She gazed around and saw an impossible apparition staring at her from the edge of the play area.

“Who the hell are you?”

“You can call me anything you like madam!”

Trayhas moved to protect his dark partner as Jerrix strutted forward.

“Run for it kid!”

Richard needed no second urging and ran toward the nearest exit as the moggy stood his ground.

Trayhas gazed upon him out of curiosity and said calmly, “You seem to be a long way from home.”

“More than you two know.”

Hollandia hated interruptions and decided to take positive action. She suddenly moved forward and had the cat by the throat before he knew what had hit him.

Lifting him clear of the ground she hissed, “I’ve never f....d a frigging cat before.”

Jerrix stared coldly and managed to retort, “Don’t get your hopes up. My dick stays firmly concealed.”

Hollandia laughed and dropped him at once, leaving Jerrix to pant upon the ground.

“Let that be a lesson to you,” Trayhas advised. “Don’t interfere in things you can’t understand.”

The moggy staggered to his feet and pulled out the fork shaped device.

“What have you got there?” the woman asked casually.

“Something that will sort you two out in an instant.”

The cat set the device to laser cut and hit the switch. The beam lashed out without warning, slicing the two creatures neatly in half before they realised what was happening.

When it cut off, the moggy stood and smiled with satisfaction.

“Serves you bast...s right! Now I can get on with my life thank you very much.”

He swung around only to see a tall woman blocking his path. She stood with folded arms and a wry smile upon her cold features.

“Bravo my cuddly friend.”

Jerrix bowed toward Dyan and waited.

“Glad you approve.”

“If I had not, your arrival would have been prevented.”

Jerrix placed the device inside his deep pocket as she continued.

“Stepping from your timeline can be incredibly dangerous you know.”

“Not as dangerous as completing it.”

She laughed in her melodic voice and waived her arm formally. The soft green glow of the ship appeared and she stepped aside.

“You may leave but remember this my friend. Even the future has ghosts...”

She faded from view as the cat scratched his furry ear.

“Now what could she have meant by that?”

Still thinking it over, he stepped inside the light and promptly vanished.

When Jerrix came to, he felt the pain of the stingers that had hit them. He looked at Gerry and saw him starting to wake. He turned his gaze to their surroundings and found they were chained to a brick wall, waist deep in a foul liquid. Their cell was a deep circular well.

“I can’t see anything,” Gerry complained.

“Don’t worry. I can see better than you. There is an overflow pipe by the far wall.”

“It can stay there,” the schoolboy replied. “We won’t be going anywhere.”

“You give up too easily.”

Gerry pulled at his chains but nothing happened.

“Save your strength. Let me try something.”

Jerrix pulled and felt a little give. Then he pulled even harder until the left chain pulled free. He was hanging now, but able to access his fork shaped device. Changing the settings, he cut his paw free before severing the second chain.

Once he was chainless, he waded to his friend and cut his bonds. “Now follow me,” he said hiding the device.

As they reached the open mouth of the pipe, the cat clambered inside and a bit reluctantly, Gerry followed. They crawled through the filth as the schoolboy complained about the mess.

“I can clean our clothes. Now I think we are almost there.”

He stopped beneath a grate and pushed upwards. He was thankful when it gave way. He crawled onto the surface, assisting Gerry into the pink miasma once more.

He gazed around and saw the dome in the near distance. He pulled out his device and reset it. Then he handed it over.

“Now Gerry, this is important. Return to the ship and put this inside a slot located at the south statue.”

“What do you plan to do?”

The cat’s face fell.

“The capsule should be large enough for a stowaway. Don’t worry; I know what I’m doing.”

Garry wished him luck and dashed off as Jerrix made for the dome. As he did so, a ray of yellow light arced into the sky towards the parent star. The solar ioniser had been used.

“Damn it. Not enough time.”

As he ran, he glanced upwards and saw the star turning red as it expanded. He dashed into the dome and reached the gantry. Without thinking, he started climbing towards the capsule as the expansion continued.

He reached the apex without incident and searched for the entry point. He spotted the hidden switch and pressed it hard. A small hatch slid open and he dashed inside, just in time.

Above the photonic rocket, the dome swung back and Jerrix felt the motors ignite. As the capsule shook violently, he was thrown to the floor as it left the gantry.

The G-force mounted as it gained altitude.
--
Within minutes however, the cat started floating as the rocket escaped Jawa’s gravity well. He managed to take hold of the central silver fertility tube, which contained the polyps. His agile mind quickly worked out the final sequence.

As they approached Earth, the capsule would detach and plunge through the thick atmosphere. Chutes would deploy and the base would unscrew itself, plunging the contents of the tube into the ocean.

It was marvellous technology of course. Simple but effective. The polyps would spread and within a year, the fully-grown Jawas would rise from the waters and colonise the planet.

He only hoped Gerry had made it out before the planet had been vaporised.

He could not think of that now. In the vacuum of space the missile was accelerating until, two hours hence it released the capsule. He had to think fast.

He floated over to the auto control, and after examination realised there was nothing he could do there. He scanned quickly and saw a hidden flap. Floating over he pressed, and examined what he saw there.

“The master drive circuit. I must be the luckiest cat in the galaxy.
Now I need something conductive to create a short-circuit, and voila.”

He fingered his gold throat clasp and smiled. Now there was only time. It was a high-risk gamble that had to come off. The fate of humanity depended upon it.

As the craft approached the bluish planet, passing the orbit of Mars now, Jerrix acted. He removed the clasp and thrust it into the circuit board. A blue flash sent him spiralling across the capsule until he collided with the waiting fertility tube.

The main drive cut at once, causing the rocket to spin nose to tail through space. It was still heading towards Earth but was destined to burn up on re-entry, due to the uncontrolled approach.

The cat floated free, sleeping due to the electric shock. He woke as the craft made its final approach. He could tell it was spinning, that was obvious. He saw the floating yellow cloak, damaged throat clasp, and managed to retrieve them. He reattached it and smiled.

“At least their plan was sabotaged. Everything will burn, including me. Well, I never thought it would end like this. Eight lives left too.”

As he contemplated his fate, the auto control made one last desperate effort to correct itself. Jerrix saw what it was doing and cursed. Floating over he said, “No you don’t.”

Raising his paws, he smashed the controls. Now he was really doomed. He detected the temperature rise as the craft began to burn, and hoped it would finish quickly.

He heard metal rendering as the capsule broke free, spinning recklessly through the upper atmosphere. The temperature began rising rapidly when a torch of flame erupted from the collapsing wall. Jerrix dodged, but as air escaped, he was sucked out.

Freefalling now, he escaped the inferno and reached the upper clouds.

Air rushed past his ears painfully as he descended. Holding his cloak firmly, he arranged a canopy that at least slowed him down.

“I think you know I might just survive this.”

He broke through the clouds and saw the ocean below. His rate of descent was falling just enough as he plunged in. He sank at once like a rock, fighting his way back to the surface. The drag of his cloak threatened to keep him under so he detached it, watching as the golden clasp sank towards the depths.

As his furry head broke free, he gasped desperately. Then he looked around. Not that far away was the green glow of his ship. As he swam, he saw Garry looking out.

“I was wondering where you were,” the schoolboy said helping him aboard.

“Not one of my better days,” the cat muttered walking towards the rear wall.

“We need to clean up.”

He was about to open one of the many drawers when the ship shook
violently and a hammer blow felled them.
...
As the ship moved crazily, Gerry called out, “What’s happening?”

“I don’t know. This should not happen.”

“Can’t you stop it?”

“I doubt it. We are out of control.”

As suddenly as it stopped, the violent careering stopped. Feeling rather sick, they climbed to their feet. Jerrix opened a drawer and reaching in, pulled out what looked like a hair drier.

As Gerry watched his ginger friend switching it on, the cat was bathed in a cream light, restoring the fur to its former clean state.

“Now you,” the cat said pointing it at him.

To his amazement, his uniform was cleaned and the cat switched it off. He tossed it into the drawer before closing it again. Then he opened a second before rummaging inside.

Moments later, he pulled out a dark blue cloak with a golden throat clasp. Opening it, he pulled the cloak on before snapping it shut.
Closing the drawer, he swirled around.

“Now that we are sorted, should we not investigate?”

“Why can’t we just leave?” Gerry asked.

Jerrix pointed to the cat statues.

“No power I’m afraid. The answer lies outside.”

He padded over to the south statue and saw the fork like device safely in its slot.

“I think we should leave that in place,” he muttered. “Lucky we have autopilot.”

Then he walked outside and stopped, gazing around. As Gerry joined him, he pointed.

“Definitely a prison. Labyrinth type I think. We have to complete the tests before we can leave.”

“What happens if we fail?”

Jerrix glanced at the schoolboy.

“Then we stay for all time.”

They had entered a room that looked bleak enough. Brown bare walls stared back and they crept forward cautiously.

“No exit,” Gerry commented.

“There is always one of those. We have to find it.”

They gazed around until Gerry spotted something incongruous.

“What do you think that is?” he asked pointing.

Jerrix looked and saw a small dark box bolted to the far left wall.

“We should check that out.”

He padded across and noticed the black dial.

“Reminds me of a safe,” Gerry said.

“Which means a combination. This could be rather awkward.”

The cat studied the dial, noticing the letters. Then he scratched his head.

“Words are the obvious answer. We had better get this right first time around.”

“What word though,” Gerry asked. “There are over a million.”

The cat screwed his eyes, as his agile mind whirred.

“This is a prison for us,” he muttered. “Therefore the answer will be specific to one of us.”

He thought a moment longer.

“As I’m more intelligent than you, I believe this is the answer.”

As Gerry watched, the cat spun the dial, spelling out Jerrix. For a moment, nothing happened. Then a hidden exit swished back.

“That solves the first test,” the cat said as they entered a second chamber.

They found themselves standing on a ledge, with rows of spikes across the open space. At the midway point, two ropes hung from the high ceiling.

“I will never reach that,” Gerry said. “No one can.”

“Oh I don’t think so. Watch this.”

The cat stepped back and leapt, grabbing the rope in his paws.
His forward momentum took him across to the far ledge where he landed safely. Still holding the rope, he called back, “When I throw this across, don’t miss.”

Gerry braced as the rope swung back and reached out with desperate fingers. He managed to hold it before stepping back and leaping into space. As he swung over, the cat grabbed him and helped him onto the ledge.

As the exit swished open, they entered another chamber.

“Who do you think brought us here?” Gerry asked.

“I wish I knew. Did you notice the drive system had not been activated? Something just picked the ship up and hurled us here.
That takes incredible power.”

Ahead of them stood an empty space with coloured lights forming a grid. Jerrix stared at it.

“Photonic lasers. This is getting tough.”

“We get zapped I take it,” Gerry commented.

“Only if we touch them. Now follow my steps exactly.”

As Gerry watched, the cat stepped gingerly over the lights and the schoolboy followed. The trek across was painfully slow and after an eternity they reached the far end. As they did this, a door swished open.

Stepping through, they found another chamber. A huge fan hung from the roof and Jerrix was suddenly alarmed.

“I really don’t like this one bit.”

Suddenly, the fan switched on and the friends were swept into the air.

The huge blades whirled round, threatening to turn them into mincemeat.

Ta...

Health report...Had good night..0 attacks...Yippee!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Let's hope tonight same!

Perhaps the fearless moggy can lend me a hand! Or a paw perhaps?

Gerry loved school lunchtimes. For about half an hour, he was free from the torment of bullies. He had never understood their mindset. Perhaps he thought to himself, it was his black spiky hair.

His bulky weight, far higher than your average ten year old, seemed to slow him down. That made escape quite difficult, if not impossible.

He did not have to go far to reach the small sweet shop he loved. His red shiny uniform always gave him an air of importance.

“Hi Mr Yani.”

“Afternoon Gerry. Same as usual?”

Gerry loved the Sikh’s national dress. If only everyone could wear it. The shopkeeper had turned to take down the jar of spicy jellies when the door opened and an unfriendly voice said, “Hand over the cash old man.”

Gerry turned to see another youth, stocking pulled over his face holding a knife.

“I’m giving you nothing,” Mr Yani told him. “You had better leave before I call the police.”

The youth grabbed the schoolboy, and putting the knife to his back pulled him into the quiet street.

“Let me go,” Gerry demanded.

“Or what?” the youth replied.

“I would do let him go. That is your final warning.”

Gerry was swung round, and saw a rather strange sight facing him. A largish ginger moggy was standing there with a yellow cloak fastened at the throat with a gold clasp.

“Where did you come from?” the startled youth asked.

The strange figure turned and pointed to a faint green glow just down the street. Then he turned back.

“Let him go now.”

The confused youth seemed to relax and Gerry swung his arm back, jabbing the bone into his stomach. The youth yelled and doubled up, allowing Gerry to break free. As soon as he did, he grabbed the moggy by the paw and ran towards the nearby glow.

He had no idea why he did this you understand. He just felt it was safer than waiting around for the youth to recover.

As they ran into the glow, Gerry suddenly stopped as the door slid shut behind them. He released the paw and gawped.

“Eh, yes,” the cat commented. “This is my ship by the way.”

Gerry just stared at the shiny, squashy floor and the walls that seemed to emit a pale blue light. A waist height, metallic dome stood at the centre of the contraption and fixed at the four cardinal points stood a cat statue, almost as high as the cat.

“Have a look around.”

Gerry wandered around slowly, noting the single levers behind each of the statues.

“The walls contain drawers where I keep my equipment.”

“This is incredible,” Gerry gasped.

“I like to think so.”

The boy suddenly realised that he was having a conversation with a five-foot high feline.

“You are not from around here then?” he asked.

“I think that is obvious. What is your name by the way?”

“Friends call me Gerry. What do they call you?”

“Jerrix Tau at your service,” and the cat half bowed.

“Thanks for the help by the way.”

“Anytime,” the cat replied padding over to the north statue and pulling down the hidden lever.

To Gerry’s astonishment, a holographic image of our spiral galaxy appeared above the dome. He clearly saw two flashing dots upon it.

“I don’t recognise that second dot,” Gerry said rather puzzled.

Jerrix smiled.

“That is where I am of to Gerry. Would you like to see it?”

“What? Another planet?”

“In this galaxy,” Jerrix explained. “There are over a million inhabited worlds you know. Earth is but a lonely old backwater.”

“I have to return to school really.”

“I’m sorry to hear that. See you later then.”

Gerry walked towards the door, which slid open. Then he stopped and turned.

“Come to think of it Jerrix, I would not mind.”

The cat smiled and padded to the east statue. As Gerry watched, the lever was pulled then moments later returned to the middle position.

“Is that it?” the boy asked.

“What do you expect?” the cat asked. “Flashing lights perhaps?”

Jerrix walked past him and stepped outside. Gerry shook his head and followed.
---
The familiar quiet street had gone. In its place, he found himself standing in a pink miasma that was a little difficult to see through.

“Where are we?” Gerry asked.

“Jawa actually. Came here years ago.”

“Returning like the prodigal son then?”

Jerrix smiled.

“Not quite. We should not be far from the main settlement you know.”

“I hope your eyes are better than mine.”

“I can see perfectly,” Jerrix replied. “Let’s go.”

He followed the strange cat across the weird landscape and realised they were upon a plateau. They quickly reached the edge and looking down, saw the strangest settlement he had ever seen.

It was circular in shape, and huge mushroom like buildings sprouted within it.

“At least it’s still here,” Jerrix muttered.

“The place looks deserted,” Gerry commented.

“They just have not seen us yet. Come on, let’s say hello.”

They began their descent, through the strange pink miasma when half way to the settlement Gerry spotted an inhabitant leaving a dwelling and floating towards them.

The creature was bulbous and many tendrils hung from the base. It moved quickly to meet them and the cat stopped.

“Hello Cantril. Nice to see you again.”

To Gerry’s surprise, a pair of pink eyes rose from the bulbous body on stalks.

“Welcome back to Jawa old friend.”

“This is Gerry by the way.”

“Nice to meet you.”

“Likewise,” the boy replied.

Cantril swung and led them to the small settlement, which remained strangely quiet.

“Seems like a Sunday,” the boy commented.

“Is there something you are not telling me Cantril?”

“Times have changed. As they always do.”

They entered the first mushroom shaped residence and saw a small group of Jawans chanting together.

“What are they doing?” Gerry asked.

“Carrying out a prayer ritual Gerry. Very rare.”

“We are praying for a miracle my friend,” Cantril explained.

“I think you had better explain yourself,” Jerrix suggested.

“Our sun is suffering Hydrognic decline.”

“What does that mean?” the schoolboy asked softly.

“It’s losing gas. I am truly sorry Cantril. Your people have lived here for millennia.”

“We cannot leave Jerrix, as you are fully aware.”

“So, you are reduced to prayer.”

“As you know, I prefer more solid action,” Cantril told him. “Come with me.”

They followed him to the far side of the settlement and into another mushroom shaped building. At the centre of the enclosure, a strange device stood upon a large table.

“This is my own invention. What do you think?”

The cat examined the object and exclaimed, “You have built a solar ioniser.”

“It is our last chance to save our planet.”

Jerrix glanced back, rubbing behind his ear.

“If you get this wrong, that sun of yours will go nova.”

“I consider the risk acceptable. Better to perish now than next year.”

“I fully understand your point,” Jerrix replied. “I need to check the internal setting.”

Cantril floated forward and a tendril tapped the side panel. As it swung open, Gerry saw complicated circuitry.

“Thanks,” Jerrix commented removing a fork like device from his deep cloak pocket.

“Always prepared,” Cantril commented.

Jerrix smiled. “As you know, I don’t like to be caught with my pants down.”

He slowly waived his device across the circuit board and glared at the readout.

“It’s only just marginal, Cantril. Is this the best you could do?”

“With our technology yes. I suppose you could do better?”

“If you had given me enough warning yes. At this late stage however... “

“I can only try Jerrix. This device will be deployed within hours.”

The cat glanced at Gerry, scowling.

“We will have to leave by then just in case.”

“Of what?”

“Eh...Boom.”

Cantril led them outside and the cat spotted a domed building he did not recognise.

“What do we have here?” he asked padding towards it.

“Our secondary plan my friend. In case my device fails.”

“Oh yes. A bunker would not protect you,” Jerrix reminded him.

“You may look inside if you wish.”

Gerry followed them towards the dome and through a small side canopy. To his amazement, he saw a rocket standing on a red gantry.
It was obvious that the dome swung back. Jerrix simply stared at it.

“This will save my people,” Cantril explained proudly.

“Some rocket,” Gerry commented.

“Looks like photonic drive,” Jerrix commented.

“It will take a million polyps to their new home.”

“Sounds like a good idea to me,” the cat replied padding towards the gantry.

“It is the only solution.”

“Where do you plan to send it?” Jerrix asked.

“Earth my friend. The Pacific to be exact.”

The cat stopped, turning slowly.

“You really can’t go there,” he advised. “Your people would become the dominant species.”

“It is unfortunate,” Cantril replied. “We debated for a year before building this rocket.”

Gerry had been listening of course. Hearing that his planet was in danger, angered the schoolboy.

“Now hold on a minute,” he exclaimed.
Cantril swung toward him.

“You come from Earth?”

“He does,” Jerrix told him. “Aim your rocket somewhere else.”

“The automated controls are dead set my friend. They cannot be changed.”

“Then we will stop the launch,” Gerry informed him.

The creature looked surprised.

“So will I,” the cat said.

“Such anger. Neither one of you understand our need to continue.”

“Continue yes,” Jerrix told him. “By conquest no.”

“Then you must be considered our enemies,” Cantril said sadly.

Jerrix realised what that meant. Before he could react however, two tendrils slashed across his face and he toppled backwards. As Garry moved forward, he too was felled.

The Jawa hummed for assistance and two companions glided through into the dome.

“Restrain them,” he commanded.

He watched as the unconscious friends were dragged off.

Will try to push on..Never intended Jerrix to appear..When he appears you really can't argue! At a very low point despite last night..I suspect prayers needed...