Only You Can Save Mankind Page 13

  ‘It can’t be natural.’

  ‘Who knows? This is game space, after all. It’s probably natural here. I mean, we’ve all seen it before.’

  ‘But it is still a very long way off,’ said the Captain. ‘I fear that—’

  There was a dull explosion somewhere behind them.

  ‘Missiles!’ said Kirsty. ‘You should have let me—’

  ‘No, listen,’ said Johnny. ‘Listen.’

  ‘What to? I can’t hear anything.’

  ‘That’s because something’s making a lot of silence,’ said Johnny. ‘The engines have stopped.’

  ‘The engines have probably melted,’ said the Captain.

  ‘We’ve still got . . . what is it . . . momentum or inertia or one of those things,’ said Johnny. ‘We’ll keep going until we hit something.’

  ‘Or something hits us,’ said Kirsty.

  She looked at the Border again.

  ‘How big is that thing?’ she said.

  ‘It must be huge,’ said Johnny.

  ‘But there’s stars beyond it.’

  ‘Not our stars. I told you, that’s one place humans can’t go . . .’

  They looked at one another.

  ‘What happens, then,’ Kirsty began, like someone exploring a particularly nasty hole in a tooth, ‘if we’re on a ship that tries to go past the Border?’

  They both turned to the Captain, who shrugged.

  ‘Don’t ask me,’ she said. ‘It’s never happened. It is impossible.’

  Now all three of them turned to look at the Border again.

  ‘Is it just me?’ said Kirsty, ‘or is it just a little bit bigger?’

  There was some silence.

  ‘Still,’ said Johnny, ‘what’s the worst that can happen to us?’

  Then he wished he hadn’t said that. He remembered thinking he’d hear the alarm clock waking him up, that very first time, and then he recalled the shock of realizing that he wasn’t being allowed to wake up at all.

  ‘You know, I don’t want to find out,’ he added.

  ‘Without engines, we cannot turn the ship around,’ said the Captain. ‘I am sorry. You were too keen to save us.’

  ‘It is getting bigger,’ said Kirsty. ‘You can tell, if you watch the stars behind it.’

  ‘I am sorry,’ said the Captain again.

  ‘At least the ScreeWee should make it,’ said Johnny.

  ‘I am sorry.’

  Kirsty stood up. ‘Well, I’m not,’ she said. ‘Come on!’

  She picked up the gun and strode away into the shadows. Johnny ran after her.

  ‘Where do you think you’re going?’

  ‘To the escape capsule,’ she said.

  ‘What escape capsule?’

  ‘Indeed,’ said the Captain, scuttling after them, ‘I ask that too. There is no such thing.’

  ‘There can be if we want there to be,’ said Kirsty, opening the door. ‘You said the game is made up of things we know? Well, I know it’ll be right down under the ship.’

  ‘But—’

  ‘It’s my dream as well as yours, right? Believe me. There’ll be an escape capsule.’ Her eyes had that gleam again. She hefted the gun. ‘I know it,’ she said. ‘I’ve been there.’

  He remembered her room. He could picture her sitting there, with a dozen sharp pencils and no friends, getting top marks in her History homework, while in her head she was chasing aliens.

  ‘I cannot understand,’ said the Captain.

  The corridor outside was full of steam. The ship might cross the Border, but it was going to have to have a lot of repairs before it ever came back.

  ‘Um,’ said Johnny. ‘It’s a bit like the models in the cereal packets. It’s . . . kind of a human idea.’

  The ScreeWee hesitated in the doorway. Then she turned to look at the screen.

  ‘We are getting closer,’ she said. ‘If you think there is something there, then you must go now.’

  ‘Come on!’ said Kirsty.

  ‘Uh—’ Johnny began.

  ‘Thank you,’ said the Captain, gravely.

  ‘I haven’t really done much,’ said Johnny.

  ‘Who knows? You never thought of yourself. You tried to work things out. You made choices. And I chose well.’

  ‘And now we must go!’ said Kirsty.

  ‘Perhaps we shall meet again. Afterwards. If all goes well,’ said the Captain. She took one of Johnny’s hands in two of her own.

  ‘Goodbye,’ she said.

  Kirsty caught Johnny’s shoulder and dragged him away.

  ‘Nice to have met you,’ she said to the alien. ‘Sort of – interesting. Come on, you.’

  Some of the lights had gone out. The corridors were full of steam and vague shapes. Kirsty ran on ahead, darting from shadow to shadow.

  ‘We’ll have to go down,’ she said over her shoulder. ‘It’ll be there. Don’t worry!’

  ‘You’re really into this, aren’t you,’ said Johnny.

  ‘Here’s a ramp. Come on. We can’t have much time.’

  There was another passage below that, and another ramp, curling away down through the steam.

  They came out in a room bigger than the bridge. There was a very large double door at one end, and banks of equipment around the walls. And, in the middle, standing on three landing legs, was a small ship. It had a stubby, heavy look.

  ‘There! See? What did I tell you?’ said Kirsty triumphantly.

  Johnny walked over to the nearest equipment panel and touched it. It was sticky. He looked at his fingertips.

  ‘It hasn’t been here long,’ he said. ‘The paint’s not dry.’

  A screen in the middle of the panel lit up, showing the Captain’s face.

  ‘How interesting,’ she said. ‘I look down at my controls and discover a new one. You have found your escape capsule?’

  ‘It looks like it,’ said Johnny.

  ‘We have ten minutes until we reach the Border,’ said the Captain. ‘You should have plenty of time.’

  There was a whirring noise behind Johnny. The escape capsule’s ramp was coming down.

  ‘I found a switch on the landing leg,’ said Kirsty.

  He joined her. The ramp was a silvery grey-colour. It gleamed in the misty blue light that streamed down from inside the capsule.

  ‘Can you guess what I’m thinking?’ said Kirsty.

  ‘You’re thinking: We haven’t seen the Gunnery Officer lately,’ said Johnny. ‘You’re thinking: He’ll be in there somewhere, hiding. Because this part is your dream, and that’s how your dream works.’

  ‘Only I’ll be ready for him,’ said Sigourney. ‘Come on.’

  She sidled up the ramp, turning constantly in a series of small excited hops to keep the gun pointed at any teeth that might suddenly appear.

  There were two seats in the capsule, in front of a very small control panel. There was a big window. There were a couple of small cupboards. And there wasn’t much of anything else.

  Kirsty pointed to a cupboard and made a gesture to Johnny to open it. She raised her gun.

  He opened the door and stood back quickly.

  Kirsty seriously menaced a stack of tins.

  She caught Johnny’s expression.

  ‘Well, he could have been in there,’ she said.

  ‘Oh, yes. Sure. Admittedly he’d have to stop to cut his arms and legs off and then curl up really small, but he could have been in there.’

  ‘Hah! Smart comment!’

  ‘Why not try looking under the seat cushions? It’s amazing what goes down behind them.’

  Kirsty tried to prod behind the control panel without Johnny noticing. He noticed.

  ‘Maybe aliens don’t watch the same kind of films we watch?’ he said.

  ‘All right, all right, no need to go on about it,’ she snarled. She looked at the controls, and pressed a switch. The hatch swung up. The Captain’s face appeared on a small screen in the middle of the panel.

  ‘Eight minutes
to the Border,’ she said.

  ‘Right,’ said Kirsty. She shoved a hand down behind her seat cushion, and then looked at Johnny’s grin.

  ‘You see aliens everywhere, don’t you,’ he said.

  ‘What’s that supposed to mean?’

  ‘Nothing. Nothing. Just a thought.’

  She glowered at him.

  There were seat belts. They put them on. Kirsty started to drum her fingers on the panel. She seemed to be looking for something.

  ‘How do we open the doors?’ said Johnny.

  ‘All right, all right – it’s got to be here somewhere.’ She pressed a button. Behind them, the ramp rose up and hissed into place.

  Johnny looked around. There really was nowhere for anyone to hide. They were aboard the escape craft. They were safe.

  He didn’t feel safe. He grabbed Kirsty’s arm.

  ‘Wait a minute,’ he said urgently. ‘I think something’s wro—’

  The screen flickered into life.

  There was a ScreeWee there.

  It was the Gunnery Officer.

  ‘Run and hide, human scum,’ he said.

  They could see the screen behind him; he was on the bridge.

  ‘You? Where is the Captain?’ said Johnny.

  ‘She will be dealt with. While you run away.’

  ‘No!’

  Kirsty nudged him.

  ‘Look, the ScreeWee are safe,’ she said. ‘The Border is only a few minutes away. We’ve done it all! You can’t chase around after her now! She’ll have to take her chances! That’s what she’d say if you asked her!’

  ‘But I can’t ask her, can I?’

  He reached over and pushed a switch. There was a whirring behind them as the ramp slid down.

  ‘I’m going back up there,’ he said.

  ‘He’ll be waiting for you!’

  ‘Fine.’ He picked up the alien gun. ‘Which bit’s the trigger?’

  She rolled her eyes. ‘This is stupid!’

  ‘Scared, are you?’ said Johnny. His face was pale.

  ‘Me?’ She shrugged and snatched the gun. ‘I’ll take this,’ she said. ‘I’m used to guns. You’ll only make a mess of it.’

  Chapter 12

  Just Like The Real Thing

  They ran down the ramp and back to the corridor.

  ‘Got a watch on?’ said Johnny.

  ‘Yes. We’ve got more than six minutes.’

  ‘I should have known!’ said Johnny, as they ran. ‘No one gets that long to escape! James Bond never turns up with enough time to have a cup of coffee and clean his shoes before he disarms the time bomb! We’re playing games again!’

  ‘Calm down!’

  ‘If we find a cat I’m going to kick it!’

  The corridors were darker. Water dripped from the ceiling. There was still some steam, hissing out of broken pipes.

  They reached a junction.

  ‘Which way?’

  Kirsty pointed.

  ‘That way.’

  ‘Are you sure?’

  ‘Of course.’

  They disappeared into the gloom.

  About thirty seconds later they reappeared, running.

  ‘Oh, yes, of course.’

  ‘Well, they all look the same, actually. It must be this way!’

  This one did lead to the wide corridor with the door to the bridge at the far end.

  It was open. They could see the blue and white flickering of the big screen.

  Kirsty changed her grip on the gun.

  ‘O-kay,’ she said. ‘No messing about this time, right? No talking?’

  ‘All right.’

  ‘Let’s go.

  ‘How?’

  ‘You walk in there. When he leaps out at you, I’ll get him.’

  ‘Oh? I’m bait, am I?’

  Kirsty glanced at her wrist.

  ‘You’ve got four and half minutes to think of something better,’ she said. ‘Oh, sorry. Four minutes and twenty-five seconds. Hang on, that’s twenty seconds now . . .’

  ‘I just hope you’re good!’

  Kirsty patted the gun. ‘Regional Champion, remember? Trust me.’

  Johnny walked towards the open doorway. He tried to swivel his eyes both ways as he reached it.

  ‘Four minutes and fifteen seconds,’ said her voice, far, far behind him.

  He halted on the threshold.

  ‘How come you weren’t National Champion?’ he said.

  ‘I had food poisoning on the day, actually.’

  ‘Oh. Right.’

  He stepped through.

  Multi-toothed death failed to happen to him. He risked a better look to either side and then, swallowing, upwards as well.

  ‘Nothing here,’ he said.

  ‘OK. I’m right behind you.’

  On the screen the Border was already much bigger. We’re travelling very fast, he thought, and it’s still more than four minutes away, and already it’s filling the sky. Huge isn’t the word for it.

  ‘I can see all round the room,’ he said. ‘No one’s here.’

  ‘There was a control panel, wasn’t there?’ said Kirsty. ‘Hang on . . . I’m in the doorway now. Yes. It’s got to be behind the controls. Go ahead. I’m ready if it leaps out.’

  I’m not, he thought. He sidled across the floor until he could just see behind the bank of instruments.

  ‘There’s noth . . . hold it.’

  ‘What?’

  ‘I think it’s the Captain.’

  ‘Is it alive?’

  ‘She. She’s a she. You know she’s a she. I can’t tell. She’s just . . . lying there. I’ll have a look.’

  ‘What good would that do?’

  ‘I’m going to have a look, all right?’

  ‘Careful, then. Stay where I can keep an eye on you.’ He moved forward, searching the shadows around the edge of the huge room.

  It was the Captain, and she was alive. At least, bits of what was probably her chest were going up and down. He knelt beside her.

  ‘Captain?’ he whispered.

  She opened one eye.

  ‘Chosen One?’

  ‘What happened?’

  ‘He was . . . waiting. While I . . . talked to you . . . he crept in . . . hit me . . .’

  ‘Where’d he go then?’

  ‘You . . . must . . . go. Not much time . . . left. The fleet . . . is . . .’

  ‘You’re hurt. I’ll get Ki — Sigourney over here . . .’

  Her claw gripped his arm.

  ‘Listen to me! He’s going . . . to blow up the . . . ship! The fuel . . . the power plant . . . he’s . . .’

  Johnny stood up.

  ‘Is she all right?’ Kirsty called out.

  ‘I don’t know!’

  She was standing in the doorway, outlined against the light.

  There was a shadow behind her. As Johnny watched, it spread its arms.

  It was bigger than a ScreeWee should be, now. It wasn’t a funny alligator – there was still a suggestion of alligator there, but now there was insect, too, and other things . . . things that had never existed outside of dreams . . .

  Johnny shouted: ‘He’s behind you!’ Then he lowered his head and ran.

  Kirsty turned.

  You can’t trust dreams. If you live inside them, they’ll turn on you, carry you along . . .

  He saw Kirsty turn and look up, and up, at the Gunnery Officer.

  The ScreeWee opened his mouth. There were more teeth than he’d had before; rows and rows of them, and every one glistening and sharp.

  Her dream, Johnny thought. No wonder she always fights.

  ‘Shoot it! Shoot it!’

  She was just staring. She didn’t seem to want to move.

  ‘You’ve got the gun!’ he screamed.

  She was like a statue.

  ‘Shoot it!’

  ‘. . . oh . . .’

  Kirsty shook her head vaguely and then, as if she’d suddenly clicked awake, raised the gun.

  ‘OK,’
she said. ‘Now—’

  The ScreeWee ignored her. He jerked his head up and focused on Johnny. He hardly had eyes, now. The alien seemed to be looking at Johnny with its teeth.

  ‘Ah. The Chosen One,’ it said. It slapped Kirsty out of the way. She couldn’t even have seen its arm move. One moment she was aiming, and the next she was lifted into the air and dropping in a heap a few metres away.

  The gun clattered on to the floor and slid towards Johnny.

  ‘Chosen One!’ hissed the ScreeWee. ‘Foolish! We are what we are! You disgrace your race and mine! For you, and her . . . for you, there’s no going back . . .’

  Kirsty was trying to get to her feet, her face contorted with anger.

  Johnny reached down and picked up the gun.

  The ScreeWee waved two arms in a sudden movement. Johnny flinched.

  He heard, from a long way away, Kirsty call out: ‘Quick! Throw it to me! To me!’

  The alien smiled.

  Johnny backed away a little. The alien was concentrating entirely on him.

  ‘To me, you idiot!’ shouted Kirsty.

  ‘You?’ said the alien to Johnny. ‘Shoot me? You can’t. Such weakness. Like your Captain. A disgrace to the ScreeWee. Always weak. And that is why you want peace. The strong never want peace.’

  Johnny raised the gun.

  The alien moved forward, slowly. His teeth seemed to fill the world. His arms seemed longer, his claws sharper.

  ‘You cannot,’ it said. ‘I’ve watched you. At least the other humans could fight! We could die honourably! But you . . . you talk and talk . . . you’d do anything rather than fight. You’d do anything but face the truth. You save mankind? Hah!’

  Johnny stepped back again, and felt the edge of the control desk behind him. There was no more retreating.

  ‘Will you surrender?’ he said.

  ‘Never!’

  Johnny saw a movement out of the corner of his eye. Kirsty was going to try to leap on the thing. But the alien wasn’t like the guards, now. She wouldn’t stand a—

  He fired.

  There was a small, sharp explosion.

  The ScreeWee looked down in shock at the sudden blue stain spreading across his overall, and then back up to Johnny almost in bewilderment.

  ‘You shot me . . . in cold blood . . .’

  ‘No. My blood’s never cold.’

  The alien toppled forward. And now he was smaller again, more like a ScreeWee.