Ten Little Aliens Read online

  That feeling, the fear and resentment and the sorrow, never left us over the days that followed. We painfully built the rudiments of a nest about the two of us. The rest of the dead woman’s clothing made a cushion for Ashman’s head. A half-melted plastic covering draped over one of the ruined banks of equipment served as a blanket for us both. It was freezing now in the silent, shattered corridor.

  Somehow, under Ashman’s direction, we manhandled the ruined monitor into the corridor. There was no power supply, but Ashman told us that by crossing some of the wires inside, we could generate enough current to heat up the casing, and so warm us in the chill of those fitful days and nights. But Ashman was wrong. We crossed every wire in the machine, every possible combination methodically, but it remained cold.

  Dead. This was a ritual we had to go through every day; sometimes several times in a day. Our failures incensed Ashman. He insisted it was possible if only we could do it right. And when we didn’t, he laid into us, ordered us away in disgust. He’d only call us back when he couldn’t last a minute longer without the painkillers we would ease into the dry split of his mouth.

  He was getting worse. We felt like we were dying with him.

  Light-headed, we would glare for hours at a time at the broken bulk of the useless monitor.

  Then finally, days later, once life had dwindled to little more than a cold, painful sleep punctuated by rummages through the dregs of the medikit, the comms unit squawked into sudden life.

  The voice was heavily distorted, but it sounded like a woman. It said something about victory, and about help.

  Ashman stared at it dumbly, and we felt a stab of pain in our hungry stomach. They would come for us. They would help. They would help Ashman like we never could.

  He grunted at us. We turned. He was looking straight at us with his good eye.

  Holding out his hand to us. It wasn’t shaking so badly now.

  Can you feel it now? How our quiet shrivelled little heart quickened? We even dared to smile back at him. We reached out our fingers to his, touched them, entwined them.

  Everything seemed too hot. Our breath steamed out into the dank air like a warm kiss to him.

  He pulled free, smacked our hand away, threw out his palm again.

  ‘The pills, you stupid useless bitch. I need more of the pills.’

  We froze. Froze everywhere. Then we reached into our pocket for the painkillers and we hurled them away as far as we could. Like our senses, scattered to the shadows.

  Ashman bellowed like we’d stuck him with a knife.

  ‘Forgive me.’ The Doctor’s voice in the dark. ‘I’m ready to go on, now.’

  We jump like a current’s just been put through us.

  The Doctor’s looking at us expectantly. Was he in our head watching the show or was he...

  We slip back there for just another moment before we have to go on.

  This was the moment. When everything changed.

  Our good hand was groping around in the dust and the dark for the pills. We despaired of finding them before help came.

  We pictured the rescue party in the ruins outside doing much the same as us. Hunting round uselessly in the dark for tiny, meaningless things.

  It’s as dark here.

  The Doctor’s set off again, breathless along the tunnel.

  We feel our side. It’s sticky, pink and gleaming in the torchlight. We knew it was coming but still we’re shocked.

  Repulsed. And we know this is just a tiny taste of what the future holds.

  The Doctor beckons to us. We have to pick up the search.

  To switch to Frog’s viewpoint, select section 3 on page 200

  To switch to Creben’s viewpoint, select section 20 on page 230

  10

  Ben

  Tovel really puts us through our paces, fixing up the light-wires for the life support. We’re grabbing this, tracing that back...

  ‘Whoever done this knew what they were doing,’ we mutter to Creben.

  He nods. ‘They did. They certainly did.’ Then he takes my latest bundle of laser spaghetti and buries them somewhere lower down in the grid. The red links flare brighter and then the lines merge.

  ‘This should be the last of the links,’ he says.

  ‘Good news, my friends.’ The Doctor’s whisper starts up from somewhere deep in our head. ‘Polly and Shade have the crystals. We can reset the coordinates and steer ourselves far from Morphiea’s noisome influence.’

  We want to yell and cheer. But the Doctor’s shushing us, frantically.

  ‘We should not make this known to all in our network,’ he says, his voice low and urgent.

  ‘As we saw the Schirr through Roba’s eyes,’ Creben says,

  ‘you think they can see through his?’

  ‘And Tovel, and Frog, too, are no longer dependable,’

  mutters the Doctor.

  We want to protest. But we remember the change in them, their bloated, twisted bodies, and we just nod. One sensible thing our old man used to say: careless talk costs lives.

  ‘I think we were allowed to complete these repairs,’ Creben says. ‘Denni could have sent a hundred angels to take us here. She’s been waiting for something... Just keeping us busy...’

  ‘Perhaps so. But Denni won’t have expected us to find those crystals. Hidden most ingeniously, most ingeniously, yes.’ He chuckles. ‘Those little gems may yet give us the advantage in this struggle. Once you’ve finished here, head for the control room. Be on your guard. I shall join you.’ With that, the Doctor breaks radio contact.

  Creben stands back from the glowing red maze, pleased with himself.

  ‘All done and dusted?’ We can’t believe it. Life support’s fixed up, and we’ve got back the crystals. Maybe, just maybe, we stand a chance of getting out of this.

  Creben nods.

  ‘Let’s get back to the control room, meet the others.’

  ‘Yes, I think we -’

  Before he can say anything else, the other voice comes booming out at us all. Sounds like a woman... but with some edge to it we can’t place...

  To switch to Polly’s viewpoint, select section 19 on page 229

  To switch to Shade’s viewpoint, select section 26 on page 241

  To switch to Tovel’s viewpoint, select section 23 on page 235

  To witness these events from Creben’s viewpoint, select section 15

  on page 223

  Or you may withdraw from the neural net - but only after experiencing Frog’s perspective. Select section 27 on page 241

  11

  Haunt

  ‘You can discard those tools,’ the Doctor tells us. ‘They won’t be needed.’

  We shrug. He knows what he’s talking about, we’ve worked that much out about him. We drop the tool kit to the cold ground.

  Goal one will be achieved - to get life support back on line.

  Provided Tovel and the Doctor can make sense of the Schirr systems, that is. The Doctor says he can. We see he’s resolved to win out here, just like us.

  At the point we’re standing in, the tunnels cross. We catch movement up ahead. Something swift and stealthy, dodging past.

  ‘Did you see that?’ the Doctor’s asking. He’s sharp, pointing ahead into the gloom.

  ‘I saw it,’ we say. We start in pursuit, run off along the tunnel. The fleas flick off our bare face and hands as we go.

  ‘I will wait for you here,’ the Doctor calls.

  We’re sprinting away. We reach the intersection and take the left.

  It’s there. The figure. Not running anymore. Shrouded in murky shadows from the ember-glow of the ceiling, facing us.

  Denni. Can you glimpse her there in the dark?

  A hand slaps down on our shoulder. Heavy as stone. We turn, catch a glimpse of one of the cherubim, standing behind us.

  We shrink back but it’s got hold of us. Digging in its fingers.

  Another one forms from nowhere in front of us.

  �
�Do all you can; we bellow, so loud that everyone in the web can hear, however far away they are. ‘Work together. Keep the neural network open. That’s an order.’

  The stone hand clamps down on our face, its wide palm scrapes our skin, rough and cold. Its fingers pull

  Marshal Haunt has been severed from the network

  To switch to Polly’s viewpoint, select section 7 on page 206

  To switch to Shade’s viewpoint, select section 8 on page 207

  To switch to Ben’s viewpoint, select section 14 on page 221

  To switch to Creben’s viewpoint, select section 18 on page 227

  Or if you were instructed to return to the section you came from, go there now

  12

  Polly

  We didn’t stay hugging Shade for long. We were both too jumpy. So we moved on, out through these endless, endless tunnels. Denni’s out here somewhere. And angels. And Lord knows what else. Once we found glass on the ceiling, half-hidden by weed. It made us dizzy. Brought us through to a new tunnel, one of those concealed entrances Ben mentioned. So what do the Schirr hide here?

  ‘Look,’ we breathe. Our feet crunch into the scree as we stop suddenly. ‘There’s light up ahead.’

  Shade pulls the heavy grenade launcher from the harness on his back, and checks it over. He tries not to let us see his hands are shaking, and he goes ahead first, slow and cautious. We wonder, if it came to it, if he would run off and leave us here, alone, to whatever Denni’s sending after us now.

  He stops. Turns back to us and smiles. ‘Come on.’

  The light, white and harsh but beautiful all the same in this world of darkness, is nothing to be scared of after all. It’s only starlight, from that window in the rock we looked out through an age ago.

  ‘It’s beautiful, isn’t it,’ we say, as the two of us stare out at the star-speckled night. We hear his breathing, slow and steady behind us.

  ‘“Our destiny is in the stars”, my ancestors used to say,’

  Shade murmurs.

  ‘On Earth?’ we ask softly.

  ‘Where everything began.’

  Our soldier’s becoming a priest. ‘I thought you were running from the Earth?’

  He pauses for a second. Sighs. ‘I guess it’ll always be my home.’

  Ours too. A sigh escapes us as we think of all we know and love back in London, in our own time. Black cabs. Cocktails.

  Parties on roof gardens. ‘I’d give anything to see the Earth right now.’

  ‘I’d give anything to take you there.’

  He places both hands on our shoulders. Thinks his ship’s come in.

  The thought of Ben comes to us, loud and clear.

  Ben missed his ship that first night we met. He looked at me across the bar, miserable as sin. Not calculating. Not weighing up his chances.

  We’ve tensed up just a fraction.

  ‘I always wanted to reach out and touch the stars,’ we say, and the subject is changed, Shade is waved off alone into the cold window of night before us.

  We reach out our hand to the glass, as if to caress and capture the brightest stars in this sky.

  Our hand tingles and passes through the window. We’re touching something hard-edged and cold. Pulling out a handful of stars from that amazing vista.

  We’re staring dumbly down at three crystals in our palm.

  ‘The navigational crystals,’ Shade breathes. ‘They have to be. Hidden where a bunch of soldiers would never think of looking.’ His hands tighten on my shoulders. He flips us around like we were a rag doll and grins stupidly into our face. ‘Polly, you’ve done it! You’ve done it!’

  We burst into giggles, stare at the crystals in wonder, as if they’re made of ice and might melt away.

  ‘Doctor,’ we say, closing our eyes. ‘Doctor, can you hear me?’

  ‘Gracious, my child,’ comes his voice in our head. ‘What is it you have there, hmm?’

  We let him work it out for himself. We feel warm all over as he starts to chuckle.

  ‘Hidden in the stars,’ we whisper.

  ‘You know, I believe we stand a real chance now, my dear.

  Yes, Denni won’t have expected such resourcefulness. Those crystals were hidden most ingeniously, most ingeniously indeed.’ He titters to himself. Then his voice hardens. ‘I shall contact the others and inform them. Don’t be tempted to broadcast this good news across our little network.

  Remember, the Schirr infection is intensifying in Roba and Tovel, and poor Frog. If they overhear... so might others.’ It’s strange, we can hear an echo of his voice in our mind, but it’s other words that are sounding. As though he’s having other conversations too, even as he speaks to us. ‘Those little gems may yet give us the advantage in this struggle. Once you’ve finished here, head for the control room. Be on your guard. I shall join you.’

  Shade’s just looking at us, the smile gone from his face.

  He’s puzzled. We realise the Doctor was speaking to us in private. We tell Shade the gist of what he said.

  ‘It doesn’t feel right, keeping this some sort of secret,’ he says. ‘You heard Haunt. We’re supposed to work together. A team. If we don’t trust each other...’

  He tails off, looks at us, pained. ‘The Doctor wouldn’t have told us to keep it secret if he didn’t think it important,’ we say. ‘We should go straight to the control room like he asks.’

  Shade nods doubtfully. We press on regardless.

  To witness these events from Shade’s viewpoint, select section 24

  on page 237

  To switch to Ben ‘s viewpoint, select section 10 on page 214

  To switch to Creben’s viewpoint, select section 15 on page 223

  13

  Roba

  We’re -

  We’re looking through Schirr eyes, sat our friends, our fellow disciples lined up on the platform in heroic golden light.

  We all feel so old. Relics. Old and hollow as human threats.

  Empty promises.

  Pallemar has betrayed us all and the master knows it now.

  He towers over the traitor, covered in blood. He’s bludgeoned Pallemar’s body, torn his flesh open as if looking for a thing in him that has turned him from our cause.

  How much Pallemar has told the humans we can’t know.

  Enough to buy his life and diplomatic immunity... He thought the master’s ambition too overreaching. In contrast his own stretches no further now than to be allowed to live.

  He wriggles in his chair, begging. Ten make the rituals strong. Pallemar must live. It must be ten.

  Like him we watch his deep dark blood spurt out sluggishly from the holes the master has torn in him.

  It doesn’t matter that Pallemar will die. The master has learned something new. He says we will become more than ten, many more. All we need shall be supplied. The plan will go ahead.

  Puny, we stumble and blunder up on the stage. With the others we take our places. The master speaks of unexpected saviours.

  He teaches us our lives will go on even as he blows open our bodies with his gun.

  The air begins to hiss out of the stronghold we have fashioned here. It will not fill this room again until salvation is at hand. The master will be waiting, ready. For time will touch us soon and put us to sleep. We may know rest now while he will go on, surviving his single endless moment of death. When we are all dead he will stand alongside us and turn his gun on himself.

  A shard of glass hovers charmed in the air to our left. The master’s key. An escape switch to be thrown the day new life shall come to us. Time will run back. Our wounds shall be undone and we shall live again.

  The others are screaming out as they die. Our nose twitches in pleasure at the sweet smell of their open flesh.

  The master’s gun fires. We scrabble with both hands for our precious guts as they dribble out, feel heat and darkness.

  The last of the air seeps from the room leaving only death, only darkness as time stops.

&
nbsp; Blackness. Cold.

  Blackness.

  To switch to Frog’s viewpoint, select section 16 on page 224

  To return to Haunt’s viewpoint, select section 17 on page 226

  14

  Ben

  There’s a red haze up ahead in the dark, like neon. This could be an Amsterdam sidestreet in winter. Except we doubt some leggy blonde with some bad English is waiting round the corner.

  We grip poor old Roba’s gun as tight as we can.

  Through some maze of red lines floating in the air, we see it’s only Creben. Not quite the blonde, but we’re less likely to catch something nasty. Probably.

  ‘Creben. I’m glad to see you.’ The red lines look almost like some floating net, waiting to catch anyone who comes by.

  ‘You all right? What’s all this?’

  ‘It’s what we came here to fix. That’s all.’

  We look at him. That’s all? This is it! We’ll be all right!’

  ‘We’ll be able to breathe for a while longer, certainly. But since Denni brought us here with the intention of changing us into something else, it was never likely we were going to suffocate before that happened, was it?’

  That told us. Take down the bunting. ‘One of them fleas got up your jacksie, did it?’

  He’s not listening. Looking at us, dead suspicious. ‘Where’s Tovel?’ he says. ‘Weren’t you with him?’

  Yeah, but we just left him on his tod to get on with it. We don’t want to have to tell that to Creben.

  ‘He’s not good. I had to leave him.’

  He’s probably poking about in our head, checking us out.

  ‘Did you now,’ he says sceptically.

  ‘Yes, I did.’ Like he’d have done any different. ‘He can’t move, Creben, all right? He’s half-turned into one of them.’

  Just the thought of it makes us feel sick. We shut our eyes, try and reach out to him, but it’s a no-go. We’re just not good enough at this caper. ‘Anyway, the Doctor said I should leave him. S’pose it makes sense. You know, try and help the rest of us before going back to help him.’