Sam inhaled deeply. 'I can smell the fresh air from here.'
'I don't know about fresh air,' said John, 'but I sure could do with an ice cold beer.'
'A big slab of beef would do for me,' said Russell, patting his concave stomach.
Trevor licked his lips. He was hungry for chocolate and thirsty for milk. 'Get me Professor Maurice Masterson on the Zip-Linq please,' he instructed.
Aidme made the connection.
'…the heck is this? Eh, yes, hallo. Is that you, Trevor? Can you hear me?'
'Trevor and Russell here. We wondered if you could meet us for dinner somewhere. Somewhere very private. We have important information for you.'
'Hello, boys,' said the professor, 'You had me worried sick. Where the hell have you been the last few days?'
'Oh, here and there,' said Trevor, winking at Russell. 'Make a reservation for five people; we've got two of your friends here–John and Sam.'
The two astronauts leaned closer. 'Hallo, Professor.'
A rattling sound came through the speakers, the sound of a chair falling over backwards. 'Damn!' swore the professor. 'Sorry, I dropped the Zip-Linq. John and Sam? My God, get here as soon as you can. My office.'
'Give us fifteen minutes,' said Trevor. 'Make sure you've got plenty of food for us. Real food, not any of that processed junk.'
'I'll send out for a Chinese takeaway, and some pizza. Just get here quickly!'
~*~
The professor met them in the foyer.
'It's only been five minutes,' he barked. 'We agreed on fifteen. You look like shit–all of you. Couldn't you spend ten minutes cleaning up?' He pointed at Trevor's football. 'What's that under your arm? Never mind, explain later. Don't just stand there, come on up to my office before you stink the whole place out.'
'Pleased to see you too,' said John, and brushed past into the elevator.
'You look like undernourished vagrants,' said the professor as he closed his office door. 'What on earth has happened? Brief me!'
The four voyagers took their time. John dropped into an easy chair spread his arms out wide across the armrests. 'Oh, how good it feels to be home,' he said. 'How good it feels to walk on Earth and breath fresh air. Life is precious, life is holy, life is for living.'
'For heaven's sake,' said the professor, fists clenched by his sides. 'Explain what happened.'
'If the others don't have anything against it, I'll go first.' said John.
Trevor dropped the football. Instead of falling, it rose in the air and hovered thirty centimetres from his shoulder. 'Okay by me,' he said, and the others nodded their consent. The professor stood with his mouth open, unable to take his eyes off Aidme.
Greasy food arrived and the four weary travellers leaped at it like starved dogs. The impatient professor strolled up and down, still none the wiser.
As soon as they finished eating, the professor scooped the plastic trays and cutlery into a rubbish bin. In its place, he laid out tea, coffee, and cake. He poured himself tea, gazed at his friends, and forced a smile. 'Before you start, John, let me apologise for my behaviour. I am really, deeply pleased to see all of you. You've obviously endured a great deal of suffering.' His fingers briefly drummed the table. 'Our planet is also suffering; worse, our planet is dying and I can't do a damned thing about it… Sorry! Please go on, John, I shan't interupt.'
John gave a precise account, free from emotion, judgement, or opinion. Sam had little to add, mostly praising the efforts and accomplishments of Trevor and Russell. The two brothers were modest, but added colour to John's debriefing.
The professor sat still for a moment, then jumped up and stretched. 'Fantastic!' he said. 'Fantastic! The question now is: what do we do about it?' He picked up his phone and gave instructions. He wanted a van loaded with food parked in Trevor's woods. 'I would love to help you more, but I can't think how,' he said. 'Load your Cloud with provisions and get back up there.'
Sam groaned and sat forward. 'But my family!' She rubbed her temples and pleaded. 'I have to see my family. I can't go back.'
'I'm sorry,' said the professor. 'I can assure you that your family is safe and well. But understand this: our planet is dying fast and there is nothing the combined efforts of every nation can do about it. Many thousands have already died, and the rest of us sit here timidly waiting for the end.
John nodded. 'The iceberg up there in space has grown considerably, it's as big as a continent now.'
'Yes, the ocean level has fallen by two metres,' said the professor. 'You have to act immediately. You say the Hollywood has no armaments–but there must be other alien cultures that are capable of hitting back. These are my orders, return to the junkyard on the edge of the universe and see if you can find a decent weapon system from one of the other spaceships. Never mind the boxing gloves–find the knuckle-dusters! I'm counting on you. The whole world is counting on you.'
The professor walked the length of his office several times then stopped in front of the four. He rubbed an eye and straightened his bow-tie. 'I'm past caring about world leaders and generals, I'll keep this our personal secret. It's between the five of us. You're the only four people on this planet who understand the full situation, so get back up there and sort them out. If there is anything you need, anything I can do, just give the word.'
'The Mantis don't know we've returned to Earth,' said Trevor. 'Give us a couple of days to rest and gain our strength.'
'I'll give you a couple of hours!'
~*~
The Mantis' sphere had been repaired and new shuttles were parked at each port. Off to one side floated a group of battleships. Trevor kept the cloud invisible.
'Only five battleships,' said John. 'Still don't take us seriously, do they? Are they the same type of battleship you destroyed with the atom bomb?'
Trevor studied the vessels. 'Yes, they look formidable! But look over there at the Hollywood, now that's what I call an astounding sight!'
Composed and more beautiful than ever, with spotlights highlighting its majestic contours, and cheerful lights gleaming from a million windows, the Hollywood glowed with dazzling life. But the Hollywood was not alone in its glory, scattered across the junkyard, other alien vessels had absorbed energy from the atom bomb and showed signs of life.
'Check them out, Aidme,' said Trevor. 'We're searching for weapons. I know you don't approve of violence, well neither do we, but we need something to defend our planet Earth.'
Under Aidme's direction, the Cloud flitted from one potential vessel to the next. This was nothing like Trevor's earlier clumsy search when he discovered the Hollywood. Now they moved at phenomenal speed and wrecks blurred past so fast it dazed him.
'Both Sam and me are jet fighter pilots,' said John. 'If we can find something that resembles a jet plane–well, what could be better?'
The whirligig ride slowed and the Hollywood loomed back into view. 'Twenty-seven thousand, four hundred and ninety-eight vessels are compatible with human beings,' said Aidme. He brought the Cloud to rest beside the Hollywood. 'Three of those vessels are undamaged and functional after absorbing the atom bomb's energy. Only one of those three carries weapons.'
'That must be the one for us,' said John. 'Can we take a look?'
Before Trevor had time to give the order, the Cloud catapulted away.
'Looks like a beer barrel,' said Sam, as they slowed.
'Yes. But it's vast,' said Trevor. 'Almost as big as the Hollywood.'
As they drew close, the Barrel flattened and expanded. Its ruffled surface resembled colourful layers of pleated cloth. The Cloud stopped.
'Is this the place?' asked Trevor.
'Yes,' said Aidme.
Trevor sucked in a mouthful of air and blew it out again. 'For goodness sake, Aidme, loosen up. Tell me about the weapons. If you don't start answering me properly I'm going to kick you all around the Cloud.'
'Directly below us,' said Aidme, in his same monotone voice, 'are one hundred and twenty robot fighter units.'
'That's better,' said Trevor. 'What powers them?'
'Water.'
'Yes, it seems everyone understands the power in water–except us. No wonder the Mantis want it so much. How do the fighter units operate?'
'By a combination of remote control and inbuilt intelligence.'
'And you can control them?'
'Yes, but not as an offensive weapon. It is forbidden.'
The four men looked at each other. 'Damn!' said John. 'Here at long last is something we can use–but can't control.'
'Perhaps we should go in and look at these fighters?' said Sam. 'See if we can figure something out.'
'Hmm! No, we can't do that,' said Trevor, shaking his head as if Sam's suggestion was an obvious impossibility.
'What do you mean?' said Sam, eyebrows raised. 'Why not?'
'Because it would give us away.' Trevor shrugged his shoulders. 'I'd like to have a look at those units too, but I don't think that would be wise. We're invisible at the moment, but as soon as we start to investigate this "Barrel" and its contents the Mantis will come charging.'
'Perhaps we should take a peek at those Mantis battleships instead,' said Russell. 'See what we're up against?'
Trevor nodded, and once again, before he had time to give Aidme the command, the Cloud sped away. They stopped in full view of the insects' sphere and battleships. Each battleship was shrouded in a hazy forcefield, looking like the full moon on a misty night. Trevor ignored them. He stared at Aidme with suspicion, wondering why he moved the Cloud before he had given the order.
'What we need is a decoy,' said John. 'We need to divert their attention long enough for us to get one of those Barrel fighter units into the Cloud.'
'How about sending the Carriage to pester them?' said Sam.
They turned away from the battleships and faced Trevor, waiting for a comment. Trevor turned away from Aidme and faced the battleships. He thought the Carriage would make a good decoy, but he remembered Aidme saying the Mantis battleship's forcefield was stronger than the Carriage's. A weapons strike from one of the battleships would most likely destroy the Carriage.
'Can you control the Carriage from here, Aidme?' asked Trevor.
'Yes.'
'I don't want it damaged,' said Trevor, snatching his gaze back to Aidme. 'You mustn't let them damage it.'
'It is prohibited for me to –'
'Yes! Yes!' interrupted Trevor. 'I expect you'll look after it. Go and annoy them then.'
The Cloud's large port opened and the Carriage scurried out. Unprotected by the Cloud's invisibility, the Mantis battleships seemed to detect it immediately and grouped tighter. The Carriage flitted between them like an agitated horsefly. One battleship hurled a frightful rod of destructive energy. The Carriage's forcefield glowed brilliant red as it deflected the glancing blow.
'That was close!' said Russell.
Trevor flushed, and his eyes pierced into Aidme. 'A direct hit would have been disastrous,' he muttered. 'The Carriage is not designed for combat. But I learnt something important.'
'What?' Russell turned to look at his brother and knew he wouldn't get an answer. He had seen his brother totally engrossed in his work many a time, and he had that same distant attitude now.
The brave little Carriage dashed and darted between the battleships until it stopped unexpectedly. Two battleships opened fire, and two concentrated rods of annihilation swatted the Carriage point blank. The Carriage forcefield blazed like molten metal–but the onslaught only lasted a millisecond. The death rays swung away from the Carriage and struck a third battleship.
The third battleship's forcefield throbbed under the assault. It pulsated a brilliant green, turned yellow, then white, and finally collapsed. The death rays ceased in the same instant, leaving the battleship undamaged but crippled.
The crippled battleship joined forces with its two attackers and all three lashed out at the remaining two. Their forcefields erupted and crumbled. In the same split second, the death rays closed down.
In the short space of forty seconds, all five battleships had been rendered helpless. The victorious Carriage strutted back to the Cloud and parked in its bay.
'Oh my God!' whispered John. 'What happened?'
'The Mantis had control of your minds,' breathed Trevor, 'but I have control of their vessels. Their battleships are under my command.'
'What?' Russell spun round and stared at his brother. 'What are you saying? Are you feeling all right?'
Trevor snapped out of his trance. 'Aidme!' he shouted. His voice trembled, and in an effort to clear his muddled mind he shook his head. He jumped to his feet, snatched Aidme form the air, and held him at arm's length. 'What are you doing? Did you do this on your own accord? You said you could do nothing by yourself. You said you could only act on my command.'
'I apologise for taking so long to disable the Mantis battleships. If your mind was more coherent I would have been much faster.'
Trevor gaped. 'Do you mean you have been inside my mind to find a solution?'
'I followed your thoughts, yes. The tactical solution was all yours.'
'I felt nothing.' Trevor released Aidme, sank back into his chair, and rubbed his temples. 'I wasn't aware of you.'
'No physical or mental entity is aware of my probing. I become integrated and embedded.'
'Does that mean I have no private thoughts? That you are constantly monitoring me?'
'Yes. We have merged.'
Sam spoke, 'Can somebody explain what's happening here?'
Trevor buried his face in his open palms. Russell pulled his chair close and put his arm around Trevor's shoulder. 'What is it? What's happening?'
Both astronauts stepped around the desk and waited. John leaned forward and spoke softly. 'Was it Aidme–or was it you who defeated the battleships?'
'Both– it was both of us,' said Trevor. He lowered his hands and looked at each person in turn, his eyes rested on Aidme. 'In the first attack, when the battleship fired on the Carriage, I learnt that the Mantis' battleships must drop their forcefield in order to use their weapons.'
He paused.
'I'm confused… Try to understand… Whatever I thought of–happened! I thought the Carriage should stand still to entice the battleships to open fire–and the Carriage did stand still. As soon as they dropped their forcefields to fire, I–Aidme–I don't know who, took command of their battleships. Then I thought the captured battleships should redirect their weapons on each other–and they did.'
'Why, that's beautiful!' said Sam. 'You are the conductor and Aidme is the orchestra.'
'No insect has been killed,' said Trevor, 'not even injured, and nothing is damaged, Aidme made certain of that…'
'How does it feel?' asked Russell, tightening his grip on Trevor's shoulder. 'You're not turning mad, are you?'
Trevor jumped up and hopped from one foot to the other. 'I don't feel anything. That's why I'm confused. It's as though I've attained thought control. I'm excited–yes, that's how I feel–excited!'
John slumped down on the settee. 'Well I'll be damned.' He shook his head. 'This gets more and more crazy by the minute. I'm the only sane person here. Trevor's got a genie in his football, Russell acts like superman, and Sam is turning soft.' He sighed, stood, laughed out loud, and strolled to the side of the desk. 'We're a group of misfits, but why should we worry? The important thing is that we're making excellent progress. Take us back to the Barrel, Trevor, and let's finish up here.'
~*~
The Barrel's weapon units looked like overgrown hedgehogs the size of a dog kennel. Their bodies were covered in long prickly spikes and a stunted snout stuck out at the front.
'They don't look very impressive,' said John. 'Are we supposed to save the world with these?'
Trevor turned to Aidme. 'What can you tell us about them?'
'They are lifeless… It is done.'
'What's going on?' said John. 'What's done?'
'I thought Aidme should divert some power into the lifeless hedgehogs,' smiled Trevor, and he did.'
'Okay. Sounds crazy, but go on. Can you tell us anything about them now?'
Trevor took a breath and creased his brow: 'The spikes improve the effectiveness of its forcefield,' he said, and drew another slow breath. 'By comparison, its forcefield is tougher than anything aboard the Hollywood. It discharges weapons from the snout at the front.' A small cylinder popped out at the rear. 'That is a battery element. To reactivate it, immerse it in water. The element will absorb water like a sponge and takes approximately forty-eight hours to charge.'
Russell grabbed his brother's shoulders and turned him face to face. 'Where did you get all that information from?' he asked.
Trevor shrugged. 'I can only surmise that it comes from Aidme. It's as if I've always known about the hedgehogs, and the knowledge just came to me because I needed it.'
Russell held on to Trevor's shoulders. 'I don't know where or what this is leading to, but I'll be keeping a close eye on you. This could be bliss–or it could be utter misery. I'm not saying there is anything wrong with Aidme, but I'm hoping your mind is capable of handling him. Can you cope without going off your rocker?'
'Listen, Russell!' Trevor shook Russell's hands away and spoke as convincingly as his own uncertainty allowed. 'I don't feel any different. Aidme has absolutely no influence over me. He utilises the intellectual ability of my physical brain and responds to my mental processes of concrete thinking and reasoning.'
'Sounds like mumbo-jumbo!'
'Try to think of it this way then: my ego, my emotions, my feelings, my philosophical and theoretical ideas are all meaningless to him. He says they cause much confusion and that my mental activity is highly undisciplined.'
Russell nodded. 'Isn't that what I always say?'
'Hey, you guys!' said Sam. 'All this is fascinating, but aren't we wasting time? I'm starting to feel nervous. Can't we get on and get back to the Cloud?'
'How much do the Hedgehogs weigh?' asked John.
'In normal gravity, fully armed: approximately ten kilos.'
John grabbed the nearest Hedgehog. 'Come on then, let's see how many we can make room for on the Cloud.'
Trevor opened the lid of a box the size of a tea chest. It was full of what looked like walnuts. 'Here is the ammunition,' he said.
John picked up a walnut between finger and thumb. 'What sort of bullet is this?'
'Photonic Neutron Diffraction bomb,' said Trevor, as if it was the most obvious thing in the world. '"PND", immensely powerful! There is no record in Aidme's data bank of any known or conceivable material or substance that could resist or impede a detonation without total annihilation. They are ejected in rapid succession like a machine gun.'
'I'm starting to like the sound of these things,' said John. 'All we have to do is find a way of operating them. Come on. Let's finish off so we can get out of here.'
They found room for five Hedgehogs in the Cloud's hold, and loaded five tea-chests of PND into the Carriage gangway. Pleased with themselves, they returned to Earth.
~*~
For two leisurely days the invisible Cloud floated unnoticed alongside the Mantis' giant iceberg. Their thieving factory spaceship still drew moisture from Earth and secreted ice crystals from its side, and the four frustrated humans could do nothing but bite their nails and count the hours while the Hedgehogs' power packs recharged.
'Their factory isn't protected by a forcefield,' Trevor had said when they first returned. 'I–Aidme–could easily throw a spanner in their works.'
'Better not try anything until we have control of the Hedgehogs,' John had said. 'Let's not start a battle until we have something to fight with.'
With no option other than to wait, the Clouds' occupants collapsed in mental and physical exhaustion. Grateful for the time to rest in luxurious accommodation they ate heartily, slept often, and watched their misused bodies put on weight and regain a semblance of health.
At the end of the second day, Trevor finally announced the Hedgehogs were ready. 'Let's contact the professor and inform him of our status,' he said. 'It'll cheer him up no end when he hears about the Hedgehogs.'
The expectant group crowded around Trevor's computer and waited for Professor Maurice Masterson's face to fill the screen.
'At long last!' barked the professor. 'What the hell is going on up there?' His features were wild and unruly, his eyes were red and swollen, bags like stuffed hammocks hung below them.
'We returned from the junkyard two days ago,' said Trevor, 'with some incredibly phenomenal weaponry–when we get them to work…'
'Stop picking your noses and get your feet down from the coffee table. Have I got to come up there to whip you into action, you lily-livered lot of brainless morons?'
Russell chuckled; the others reddened in anger.
'Hallo, Prof.' Russell pushed his brother aside and sat in front of the camera. 'We're looking into the problem.'
'Looking into your backside is more like it. Don't play games with me. People are dying like flies down here. It's minus fifty at night and plus fifty during the day. For God's sake get your finger out and do something.'
John pushed Russell aside and sat before the camera. 'Good evening, sir. We've had to wait for some energy cells to recharge. They're just about ready, and now we need to figure out how to control the five fighter units we've brought back with us.' He refrained from calling them Hedgehogs. 'And with all due respect, sir, it doesn't help if you start harassing us. Russell has recommended we stay calm, he says inner calmness is the most essential part of any combat. He says we need to control our emotions.'
'You haven't even got control of your trouser flies… You boys are pissing me off. Russell is a namby-pamby infant who needs his nose punched. A nitwit sissy! Don't you understand, the whole ecological balance of our planet is about to collapse; you don't need to be an environmentalist, or a biologist, or even a flower-power hippy to understand; it's only a group of delinquents like you four who think the problem will go away by itself as long as you keep your heads buried in the sand long enough...!' He paused to breathe. 'Why did you bring those armaments if you can't use them?'
'We had no choice!' screamed Sam over John's shoulder. John jerked his ear away and dug his elbow into Sam's ribs.
'We had no choice, sir,' repeated John. 'There is nothing else. And if I hear another piece of garbage from you I'll forget about these insects and come down there to ram some respect down your cantankerous old throat.'
The professor opened his mouth to reply, but his anger distorted face disappeared from the screen.
'I have removed the cause of aggravation,' said Aidme. 'Your brain patterns are so disordered I virtually lost contact with Trevor.'
'Bravo!' said Russell. 'I was about to break the connection myself. That man was causing an incredible amount of friction. But let us not to be angry with him. He's under an awful lot of pressure. Thank goodness he hasn't given up and still has his fighting spirit.'
Trevor marched backwards and forwards with his head low and his hands clasped behind his back. Sam sat down heavily and rubbed her bruised ribs. John turned away from the computer and looked at each person in turn. His gaze went back to Russell and rested there; Russell's relaxed features and gentle smile calmed his rampant emotions like balsam.
'Okay!' said John. 'The professor is right. We need to get our finger out. I'm the senior officer here and I'm taking command.' He paused, but there were no objections. 'Let's get to work on these Hedgehogs. What do we know about them?'
'Only that Aidme is the only one who can operate them,' said Sam, 'and he refuses to use them in combat.'
'This is what we do then,' said John. 'We return to the Barrel and fetch a remote control unit or something.'
Trevor stopped tramping up and down and faced Aidme, looking as though he wanted to head-butt it. 'You said these things were compatible with our race,' he shouted. 'In what way are they compatible? How can we operate them?'
'They are controlled by thought,' replied Aidme.
'Oh yeah, great! That tells me practically nothing. Are we supposed to sit in a booth, wear a helmet, or have our temples wired up?'
'The creator race use a helmet.'
Trevor groaned. 'Why didn't you say so before? I keep telling you to make your answers more complete, perhaps now you comprehend why.' He put his hands on his hips and tapped his toe. 'I suppose we have to go back and fetch some.'
'The helmets are shaped to their own heads. They will not fit yours.'
'Can't we modify them?'
'The creator race have heads the size and shape of a kitten.'
'Damn!' said Trevor and started marching again. 'There's something you're not telling me, Aidme. How are these Hedgehogs compatible with us if our heads are too fat to fit the control helmet?'
'Dear brother,' soothed Russell. 'If you calm down, perhaps Aidme could better anticipate the information you need.'
Trevor threw himself into his office chair, put his feet on the desk, and pushed the chair into reclining position. 'Does this help?' he mocked, and forced his eyes shut.
Russell kneaded the tightly packed muscles in Trevor's shoulders until the knots loosened. Trevor sighed and began speaking. 'Our human mind does not require a helmet,' he said. 'Aidme can tune the Hedgehog to respond to our thoughts directly. But the quality of our undisciplined thoughts will be confusing to the Hedgehogs, just as they are to Aidme.'
Russell made room to sit on the desk. 'Interesting,' he said. 'But you need to explain more–what do we do? How can we establish a link?'
'Concentrate on the image of a kitten's head. When the image is in our mind, the link with the Hedgehog is established and control will be feasible. Further explanation is not possible because Aidme does not understand the process himself. He controls an object by becoming embedded and integrated, we must do the same with the Hedgehogs.'
Trevor opened his eyes and sat up straight; he stretched his hands high then drew them in to rub his neck. 'Phew!' he gasped. 'That's exactly what I needed. Thanks, Russell.'
'Very well!' said John. 'Trevor, you will have nothing to do with the Hedgehogs. Your job is to fly the Cloud.' His expression softened. 'You have the exact and insatiable brain of a research scientist, and if your mind was ruled solely by your brain you'd be a robot. This is good for Aidme but bad for us. Thankfully, like the rest of us, you're full of human emotion.' He paused and rubbed his nose. 'Apart from Russell!' He looked at Russell and shook his head. 'Russell obviously has emotions too, but he doesn't let them bother him…'
'I'm more of a philosopher,' said Russell. 'I seek wisdom–not knowledge.'
John directed his full attention to Russell. 'Your primary job is to gain control of the Hedgehogs, and you will do nothing else until you succeed. The fact is, you are the only person amongst us who has a chance of managing these Hedgehogs. Perhaps Sam can also learn; after all, she did manage that Hulk trick on the insects' sphere, but you'll need to show her it's possible.'
'This is what I suggest then,' said Russell. 'I'll take Sam to my apartment where we can work in peace while you and Trevor stay here to run operations. I don't mind you taking command, John. I think it's a good idea.'
Nobody moved for a moment. At present, they were whole and healthy, but their next move meant war and risking their lives. John embraced Sam, the two brothers nodded at each other. Russell focused on their auras. Seen as one, they bristled with trepidation.
'Just look at our home, the earth,' said Sam. The others followed her gaze. 'Have you ever seen a more beautiful sight?' She casually drew the back of her hand across her moist eyes. 'Our planet needs rescuing, our race needs saving, our families need protection, and we are the only people who can do anything about it. Let us pray to God for His grace, and let us never falter as guardians of His magnificent gift.'
They bowed their heads.
'Come along,' said Ru