Warblegrub and the Forbidden Planet (10 page)

Fardelbear looked at him with incomprehension then shook his head. “That’s no way to manage a universe you know!” And with that he turned back to the sea and dived in.

Chapter Eleven

Fascinated by the contrast between the savage she-wolf and the two plump infants, suckling as if they were her pups, Alex lingered long in front of the ancient bronze statue, wondering at its meaning. The explanatory note gave the infants’ names as
‘Romulus and Remus’
but before she could read more, she heard footsteps behind her and saw a figure moving in the shadows.

“It’s an old, old legend,” said a woman.

As she came into the light, Alex was amazed by her beauty. Her eyes shone like diamonds and her dark complexion was unblemished and perfect in its proportions. Her hair was jet black and she wore a sari of midnight blue trimmed with gold. She peered closely at Alex as if she were one of the artefacts.

“Who are you?” asked Alex.

For a moment the woman seemed uncertain. “I’m Shmi,” she replied hesitantly, as if she had almost forgotten. “What’s yours?”

“I’m 478. Pilot Officer 478.”

Shmi frowned. “My husband warned me about these numbers.”

“Your husband! Who’s he?”

“He’s taken to calling himself
Warblegrub
.”

“He’s your
husband!
”

Shmi laughed. “That’s the simplest explanation.”

Alex drew a deep breath and counted to ten. “I’m Alex,” she said curtly. “Now, what about the others; are they safe?”

“Others?
”

“My comrades.”

“I’m afraid they’re in great danger.”

“Can you help them?”

“I’m not sure,” said Shmi, “but we’ll try.”

Alex looked round the room again. “Where am I?”

“In my home. My husband rescued you.”

“Warblegrub? I thought it was Fardelbear!”

Shmi laughed again. “Heavens no!” she exclaimed. “He’d more likely have eaten you!”

Curious about this human, who seemed more concerned about her comrades than herself, Shmi peered deep into her eyes, hoping to find the origin of her compassion. Looming large amongst Alex’s memories was a dry, dusty planet, little more than an asteroid tumbling through space; her childhood home, where her people had scratched out a living beneath the flimsy dome that kept the vacuum at bay. Even before the Exile they had been oppressed in their own lands by a neighbouring power and Alex’s family were among those few who had chosen to live illegally outside the settlement camps, free from the cruelty of their fellow man. The price of freedom was hardship and danger, trading with unscrupulous aliens on the black market, but Alex had known the warmth of friends and family, at least for a while.

In an instant, Shmi ventured deep into her memories and saw a child, sitting on her mother’s lap. She felt a terrible sense of loss. There were flames, flashing lights and screaming sirens, but the memory of what followed was buried very deep and Shmi knew that uncovering it might harm Alex. It had, however, been many years since she had encountered a human and she was unable to resist other, less painful memories. Deepest and happiest were the stories Alex’s mother had told her as they passed the long, cold nights together in the cheerless depths of space; stories collected from all over Earth and passed down the generations, many of which Shmi had also heard.

One story in particular was a favourite of them both, and her mother’s voice was as clear in Alex’s memory as if she were present:
“The Universe came into existence when two opposing forces were balanced. One was female, the other male, and together they created all the opposites that make up the Universe: light and dark, fire and ice, good and evil, and so on. In the beginning the two opposing forces – Yin and Yang – were bound together inside the Cosmic Egg, but there came a time when their struggle caused the Egg to crack and split and the giant Pangu emerged. He grew and grew, pushing apart the earth and the sky, and lived for thousands of years. When he died, his body formed the world: his bones became rock, his flesh soil, his hair the plants, and the fleas and lice – the parasites that lived off him – became humans....”

“What are you doing?” demanded Alex.

“I’m so sorry!” Shmi apologised, withdrawing immediately. “I’d forgotten humans like privacy.” In the awkward silence, she turned to the she-wolf and the infants again. “Did you know that one of those little twins – Romulus – founded a mighty city and his descendants ruled half the world?”

“What about Remus?”

Shmi frowned. “Romulus killed him.”

Quickly changing the subject, Alex pointed to a life-sized statue of a kneeling man. “He looks like a soldier. Is there something missing from his hands?”

“A crossbow; he was an archer, one of an army of such statues; great companies of infantry and cavalry – even chariots – buried with the mad ruler of another vast empire. When he died, he planned to invade Heaven with his terracotta warriors, to cast down the gods and make himself ruler of all realms!”

“Do you think I’m proud to belong to such an appalling species?”

“It can’t be easy,” Shmi sympathised, “but you
are
human and unfortunately that does make you part of the problem.”

“The problem?”

“What to do with a species like yours, that refuses to behave sensibly.”

“But we’re not all guilty….”

“Not equally guilty,” Shmi conceded, “but you are all responsible and you will stand or fall together.”

Alex was crestfallen.

“Don’t be too downhearted. You aren’t all bad – look at all these beautiful things you made!”

The lights grew brighter and once again Alex’s heart skipped a beat. The whole collection of artefacts appeared to be works of art and she was stunned by the incredible skill with which they had been wrought.

“I prefer the truly ancient ones,” said Shmi, picking up a small ivory carving of two deer, one following the other. “See, their heads and antlers are thrown back as if they’re swimming.

Alex was indeed astonished at the skill of the ancient craftsman.

“It was made with the most primitive of tools,” Shmi continued, “and it’s as fine as anything else in this collection, almost all of which it predates by millennia.”

“What is this place?” marvelled Alex, looking round.

“My husband’s collection; he calls it the
‘Museum of Mankind’!
” Shmi sighed. “And this is just the stuff he hasn’t sorted yet!”

“Where is your husband?”

“He’s trying to save your friends.”

“And what can we do to help?”

Shmi smiled and took Alex’s hand. “Come with me,” she said, and led her through a maze created by statues, display cases and mounds of artefacts.

“It’s incredible,” gasped Alex.

“It takes up a lot of space!”

The next room was a gallery of paintings, all properly displayed and subtly lit. The selection of pictures, however, was bizarre; soft pastel paintings of water lilies hung next to strange blocks of primary colours, and gorgeous landscapes were juxtaposed with abstract portraits of tortured figures. Though Alex would have loved to have lingered among the paintings, Shmi was evidently in a hurry and after several more galleries of artefacts and artwork, a library and a small cinema – with a selection of Warblegrub’s favourite movies on offer – they stopped in front of a plain white door.

“What’s in here?”

“The rest of the Universe,” replied Shmi, and opened the door.

*

Shoals of fish and schools of dolphins and whales fled the sleek black leviathan as it sped over undersea mountains, coral reefs and forests of seaweed. And while the Colonel and the Science Officer steered through the murky depths, the soldiers cramped in the dimly lit crew’s quarters mourned yet more comrades. Sergeant 236 could see that fear had taken hold in everyone; their long-lost home had become a death trap and, though discipline still held, they were close to breaking.

“How’re they doing?” the Colonel asked when she joined him in the Operations Room. But there was little concern in his voice and his eyes remained on the tablet.

She felt a sudden flush of anger. “Scared!”

He looked up sharply. “Is anyone losing it?”

“‘Losing it’?”

“Is anyone cracking?”

236 was speechless.

“Well?”

Keeping her anger in check, she shook her head.

“Make sure they know the penalty for failing to do their duty!” the Colonel reminded her sternly.

“It won’t come to that!”

He caught the tone in her voice. “See that it doesn’t!”

Equally worried, 395 felt the Colonel’s eyes boring into him and was fortunate that the current program finished running just then.

“Nuclear weapons armed and guidance systems functioning; all systems are under our control, Sir.”

“Whose control?”

“Your control, Sir.”

“Good! Now let’s take a look at
our
destination.”

“The satellite sent us pictures of the region before we dived,” said 395. He displayed an image of the archipelago, focusing on a large crescent-shaped island that was part of a ring of islands around an almost perfect circle of sea. “It’s an old volcano,” he explained. “The eruption must’ve been massive, as you can see from the remains of the caldera.”

“Caldera?”

“The crater. This whole circle of sea in the centre is the flooded crater.”

The Sergeant whistled. “It’s gigantic!”

“Now look at this.” He traced a faint plume of smoke rising in the middle of the bay. When he enlarged the picture, they saw a new volcano venting smoke and gas.

“A chip off the old block!” observed the Colonel wryly.

395 laughed awkwardly and enlarged the image of the deep-space transmitter on the summit of the main island. “Structure seems intact.”

The Sergeant sighed with relief. “Then we can call for help!”

“You mean summon reinforcements!” the Colonel reminded her.

She apologized and saluted smartly, which seemed to satisfy him.

“Take us deeper, S.O.,” he ordered. “Maximum speed – let’s see what this tub can do.”

As the submarine dived deeper, 395 and the Sergeant steadied themselves against the consoles while the Colonel held on to one of the periscopes. The Sergeant’s anxiety mounted as the vessel began to creak and groan alarmingly.

“It’s just water pressure on the hull,” explained 395.

“Then it’s normal?”

He grinned. “I hope so.”

At last the submarine levelled out and, with the drone of its engines carrying far through the ocean where no such sound had been heard for decades, the metal leviathan sped on.

Chapter Twelve

Alex looked round for some point of reference but all she could see were stars. She looked up – there were stars. She looked down – there were stars. She began to panic, her breath coming in shorter and shorter gasps.