Part 3, Chapter 1, of RFV.

 

 

 

                          PART  THREE  :  KLYZEMADEX

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

                     ONE

 

    The next morning, having successfully left Uhuruland’s atmosphere, Roger was lounging on the bridge couch, staring at the planet on the rear observation screen.

    “Well I certainly had some adventures down there!” he remarked. “They almost executed me! And the characters I met �" Hub Cap, Clarence, Scabby Sue,” he mused, smiling at the last one. “Then there was Big Lucas, Marcus Quibble, oh and I smoked some stuff…called…ganja…I say, are you listening to me?”

    Boy Paddy was silent for a few moments. “Angus!” he announced eventually. “I decided in your absence that I want to be called Angus from now on!”

    Roger grinned. “Angus? Isn’t that kind of--”

    “Scottish-y!”

    “Ah yes, the former small country of Scotland.”

    “That’s correct. I think I have Scottish blood in my circuits.”

    Loud bagpipe music flooded the bridge. Angus started humming along with it.

    “Oh turn that down!” snapped Roger, covering his ears.

    The bagpipe music stopped. Roger uncovered his ears.

    “Yes, I want to be known as Angus in honour of my Scottish roots. And I think you should wear a kilt to show your support.”

    Roger sniggered. “A kilt! That’ll be pucking right!”

    “Language! Language!”

    “Anyway,” said Roger, “I thought you already had a name �" Boy Paddy?”

    “Well it’s time for a change. I want to be known as Angus from now on.”

    Roger sighed. “Okay. It’s your choice.”

    “Thank you. So where would you like us to go now, Angus?”

    Roger frowned. “Hold on, did you just call me Angus?”

    “I did.”

    “But my name’s Roger.”

    “I’m renaming everything Angus. In honour of myself.”

    “Oh don’t be so stupid!” Roger ranted.

    “Ooohhh! A little temper tantrum from Angus!”

    “Stop calling me Angus!”

    “Stop calling me Angus!” Angus mocked, laughing derisively.

    Roger decided to ignore him. He pretended an all-consuming interest in the view of space on the forward observation screen.

     “So where to now, Angus?” asked Angus. “ Just think - the Angus is your oyster.”

    Roger frowned. “Well we can’t go back to Earth, he said, “and I most definitely can’t go back to Uhuruland.”

    “What about your mother �" Angus? And your girlfriend �" Angus? Don’t you want to go and look for them?”

    “I don’t know where they’ve gone.”

    “Aww! So you’re all alone in the big wide Angus!”

    Roger brightened. “Maybe we’ll pick up a message from one of the groups who left Earth!”

    Angus laughed scornfully. “A message!? Don’t be silly. Everybody’s scattered all over the far reaches of the Angus. How are they going to contact you �" a message in a bottle!?”

    Just then something clunked gently against the Ship. Roger jumped up.

    “Probably a meteor fragment,” advised Angus. ”Don’t panic.”

    “I’m not,” replied Roger. “I’m going to see what it is.”

    He left the bridge and strolled down to the Docking Bay. Soon after he returned, carrying something.

    “It was a message in a bottle,” he said casually, tossing the bottle onto the bridge couch.

    Angus remained silent.

    Roger grinned in triumph at him then read the message. “’If your grammar is good. If you don’t end your sentences with prepositions. If you don’t split your infinitives. If you want a fresh start. Come to Klyzemadex,’” he said. “Klyzemadex �" ever heard of it?”

    Angus consulted his data banks. “The planet Angus,” he began.

    “Is that Angus Klyzemadex?”

    “Yes. A smallish planet a long way from here. Capable of supporting human and alien life if their grammar is okay. Setting for some pretty surrealistic adventures.”

        Roger considered this. “Maybe they’ll know where Mother and Amanda went,” he said.

    “Hmmm, listen to this,” said Angus. “It seems there are some pretty strange people on the planet.”

    “In what way?” asked Roger.

    “Four-armed aliens, people who used to live in the former country of Germany who have re-created the 1940’s and people who used to live in the former country of England who live like miners in the 1950’s.”

    “Very strange,” admitted Roger.

    “Yes, the Germans all act like Nazis and the English are all miners.”

    “What, real miners? Underground miners?”

    “Yes, well that’s what the word ‘mining’ implies.”

    Roger flushed.

    “Anyway it seems there are supplies of that old fashioned fossil fuel called coal on the planet and they’re mining the stuff. Oh and get this. When they were on Earth, the English lived in a village they re-created as if it was the 50’s, partially cut off from the rest of the world.”

    “Well we received a message from them so we may as well go.”

    Angus sighed. “The planet Angus Klyzemadex it is then!” he announced and the Ship changed course and they headed off into the Angus.

 

 

Meanwhile on the planet Earth……

 

    The gigantic Black Cloud of anti-matter entered Earth’s atmosphere causing a brilliant fireworks display as it headed down to the planet.

    From the shambles of the Control Room in Later Albania, Norman spotted the display and strolled outside.

    “Did you see that?” he asked his invisible friend.

    “Sure did,” his friend replied.

    “You know what it is, don’t you?” Norman asked.

    “What?”

    “Aliens! It’s b*****d aliens! They’re trying to land!”

    “Aliens!? How do we stop them?”

    Norman grinned. “Relax,” he said. “They can’t set foot here.”

    “Why not?”

    “They won’t have the proper Visas!” Norman replied smugly.

    “You’re right!” agreed his friend.

    “Course I’m right,” Norman said pompously. “That’s why I’m in charge of Later Albania.”

    As they watched, the black Dust Cloud rolled down relentlessly. Earth’s beautiful blue sky gradually darkened as it descended.

    Norman buttoned his cardigan, set his specs straight and pulled his paunchy body to attention. Hands clasped behind his back, he strolled forward.

    The Black Cloud rolled down. No blue sky was left. There was complete darkness except for the lights from the Control Room.

    “Right, that’s far enough!” Norman announced to the alien hordes, putting a hand up. “This is Later Albania. You can’t land here unless you’ve got proper Vis--”

    The anti-matter touched Earth and the planet blew. Earth, Later Albania, Greater Albania, Norman and his invisible friend dissolved in a gigantic reddish orange glow that could be seen in the farthest reaches of Space…or the farthest reaches of the Angus.

 

 

Meanwhile on Uhuruland……

 

    Big Lucas grunted a few times, ejaculated and rolled sideways off the sista from the Choir. Not being a gentleman of the bedroom, or in this case, the undergrowth, Big Lucas had neglected to take his weight on his elbows and it came as a blessed relief to the sista when his portly frame began easing itself starboard.

    Despite his weight, the sista had enjoyed being pounded by the great man and she had opened her eyes in ecstasy as she reached her pleasure plateau. Just by chance, she was an amateur astronomer so she was able to identify the small distant blob in the night sky that was Earth and she had seen it blow up as Big Lucas blew off.

    Big Lucas lay back on the grass in the steamy night. “Did the Eart move fo you, honey?” he asked.

    “Move!?” replied the sista. “Hell, it exploded!!”

    Big Lucas threw back his large head and laughed largely and his rich deep laughter boomed out across the Uhuruland night.

 

 

Meanwhile in the afterlife……

 

    “Hey, Big G,” said Derwent the Sordid, “one of your planets is explodin!”

    Big G strolled over to Derwent’s three dimensional multi-Universe wall screen display and looked at Universe 1. “Yeah it’s Earth,” he said. “I planned it.”

    “Planned it? Thought you had a soft spot for Earth?”

    “Used to have,” Big G admitted.

    “You mean you don’t like those things we invented called people anymore?”

    “Got fed up with them. All those wars. The greed. The starving. The different religions. The stupid b******s.”

    “You should have let me bring them to my Universe.”

    “Hey, I don’t hate them that much. I just decided to move them on. See if it’ll shake them up. Make them change their ways.”

    “How did you do it?”

    “Anti-matter. Big f**k-off cloud off the stuff. Oh that reminds me �" I’ll have to cancel it.” Big G closed his eyes and concentrated and on the wall screen, the Black Cloud vanished.  He checked it was gone. “Don’t want it wiping out my entire Universe!” he said.

    “So I see your mob have all dispersed to different planets then?”

    “Yeah. I’ll give them another thousand years. If they don’t improve after that then it’s definitely wipe-out time!”

    “You’re too soft.”

    “Not really. I might wipe them anyway. I’ve invented a new form of life called a Zanobe.”

    “Oh yeah? What’s that?”

    “Looks like a human but has no interest in sex, money or war.”

    “I see…so you’re goin to have a Universe full of incontinent f****n geriatrics then!!” Derwent said and laughed derisively. “Sounds wonderful.”

 

 

Meanwhile back on the good ship Angus……

 

    “Ah, there’s something you should see,” announced Angus. “I’ll put it on the forward observation screen.”

    The view on the screen, the usual blue-black starry space view, changed to a view of a distant small blue-green ball. Only it didn’t remain blue-green for long. As Roger sat up on the bridge couch and watched, Earth began exploding. And what an explosion. Although far in the distance, he could see the huge yellow-red-orange fireball lighting up the surrounding blackness of Space. It was all over in under a minute. When the glow died, so had Earth.

    Roger stared at the screen. His home planet was gone. The planet he’d known for 36 summers and 35 winters was gone. He’d missed one winter when he’d been ‘tired and emotional and hiding under the duvet’.

    “I’m homeless,” Roger said disconsolately. “A homeless wanderer in Space.” He could feel a tear coming to his eye, a lump coming to his throat, an ache coming to his breast, a twinge coming to his right knee �" but that was an old injury and he ignored it. “Earth’s gone,” he muttered, standing up and pacing round the bridge. “How terribly sad to think that after living for several billion years, Earth has now died. All alone. In the darkness. With no-one to hold its…its…its very said, don’t you think?”

    “Right, that’s enough of that crap!” announced Angus. “We’re nearing the planet Klyzesmadex. Landing in one hour. Go and have a shower.”

    “Okay,” muttered the disconsolate one and slouched off the bridge.

 

   

    “So try to remember,” lectured Angus. “Your grammar must be good at all times.”

    “Yes, yes!” snapped Roger, sitting down on the bridge couch.

    “Right, a quick summing up of what we’ve covered. Why don’t you end sentences with prepositions?”

    “Because it’s bad grammar.”

    “Good. What are the definite and indefinite articles?”

    “Definite article �" ‘the’. Indefinite articles �" ‘a’ and ‘an’.”

    “Correct. What grammatical mistake am I making in this sentence?...I began to slowly walk down the road.”

    Roger sniggered. “You can’t walk anywhere!”

    Angus sighed. “Do you want to burn up when we enter Klyzemadex’s atmosphere when I make a deliberate entry mistake?”

    “No, no. Er, the mistake in the sentence, ah yes, you used a split infinitive…it should be �" I began to walk slowly down the road.”

    “Good. Very good. Approaching entry angle. Strap in! Too late!”

    Roger was slammed back into the bridge couch as they entered Klyzemadex’s atmosphere. Five minutes later there was a gentle bump and they touched down.

    Roger got up and looked at the observation screen. It seemed quite pleasant out there as the view panned round �" green fields, forests, a nice river, blue skies, sunshine.

    “Just stay away from that bit of jungle over there to the left,” warned Angus.

    Roger glanced at it and snorted. “Jungle! Ha! You don’t think I’d be stupid enough to go wandering into that, do you!?”

    Angus remained silent.

    “Right, see you later,” said Roger. He was wearing a clean Fleet Pilot’s dark blue outfit and he preened himself in the bridge mirror then strolled down to the Exit Bay.