The Secret at The Centre of The Universe

Analgesia by Mirriyuula

“When space and time are curved, telling a story non-sequentially hardly matters” …….. incompetent PA editor

I walk into the Bats Droppings. It feels soft underfoot and aromatic, er, um, the pub that is. Michael the publican gives me a warm greeting “Welcome Father, pint?” “Thanks Michael, where’s that accent from?” I ask. “It’s Welsh Father. It’s a Welsh publican’s voice from the village of Llanfairpwllgwyngyllgogerychwyrndrobwllllantysiliogogogoch.” “Pardon!” I exclaim foolishly, “Llanfairpwllgwyngyllgogerychwyrndrobwllllantysiliogogogoch” says Michael, “It means St. Mary’s Church in the hollow of white hazel near a rapid whirlpool and the Church of St. Tysilio near the red cave.” Oh for fuck sake, some people just can’t grip reality, I mean wouldn’t something like Woodville be easier on all an sundry.

There’s a poster on the wall, ‘Playing Saturday nite Dave Oarsfield, singer, songwriter, historian and anthropologist’ “So what’s this Dave guy like?” I ask Michael. “He’s good Father, plays a few tunes and will have a chat to anyone willing. Does all of the good Beatles songs” says Michael. Oh well that will take all of two minutes. “Yes, Belinda and I will have to come over, but Michael, you’re all droids aren’t you? I mean how long are we in space for? The food and stuff how do we get that?” “So many questions, so little time” jokes Michael. “Now let’s see. The ship is self-sustaining. We need to get water sometimes but virtually everything is made on board. I’ll get one of the droids to take you to the farm bio, it’s up the river. Yes, all droids last time I looked” Michael laughs heartily as he feels his crotch. I like this droid, er, um, guy.

“B, b, but?” I stutter trying to take in the enormity of it all. “Well” injects Michael “ We have evolved over millions of years. Gordon brought in the basic building blocks and programmed us to evolve into what we are today. Each generation of droid builds the next generation and so on. The droids are programmed to respond to your movements as part of the SNAP program, you know to make you feel as normal as possible.” Acronyms Jesus Christ I am sick of bloody acronyms

So after a few pints and a lot of thinking time I head back to the manor. George answers the door “Dinner will be at 1930 hrs Sir, oops Sandy. The ladies are in the sitting room”. “Wow Belinda, you look fabulous, well done Helvi” I spurt. “It’s easy when you have someone wonderful to work on Sandy” Helvi says. “Helvi?” “Yes Sandy” “Look George said before that the ship had 299 droids on board, I mean why not go the whole hog and add one more for 300?” I muse. “Well there is a 300^th droid Sandy but we left him on Earth.” Helvi replies. “Why is it so?” I ask doing my Jules impersonation. “Well, if I tell you, you must promise not to tell anyone” Belinda and I nod impulsively wanting to know more. “Well” Helvi continues “The droid is filling in for a person while that person is carrying out some very dangerous work”. “And who and what is that?” Belinda prompts. “Come close you two and I’ll whisper it to you” Helvi says as she draws us in and her eyes narrow. “It’s psst psst psst psst and he is doing psst psst psst” “What? You’re joking” I exclaim unable to control myself. “Merv is a droid and the real Merv is Malcolm Turnbull’s image consultant…..”. And so the plot thickens.

Gordon sees danger… “What’s that ? A head ?”

Initial Massage by Wirruulia

Drinking at the Bat’s Droppings is great. Michael the publican has a real larrikin streak in him and Dave the guitar man plays all my favourites, once I programmed him with my disc, Band-in-a-Droid. Michael has arranged for me to visit the tropical island bio with two of the crew, the Kipper and his mate Jilligan. They were the strangest looking droids I’d ever seen, cross dressers by the look of them. “Only takes three hours” said the Kipper while Jilligan just smiled and looked goofy.

We set off from the village. Belinda said she would go another time as her and the Helvi-tastic were going to see a chick flick at the cinema. So along with Zeb I boarded the SS Nimmow. Some of this stuff seemed so familiar it was spooky. As we headed up the river I could hear the Kipper humming a tune. “What tune is that Kipper?” I enquired. “Oh, it’s just a song I like to sing when we are out in the boat, I made it up” the Kipper replied. “Sing it for us, go on, its only us lads and the dog” I prompted. “Okay then Sandy it goes like this”.

Just sit right back and you’ll hear a tale,

A tale of a fateful trip

That started from this village port

Aboard this tiny ship.

The mate was a mighty sailing man,

The Kipper brave and sure.

A passenger set sail that day

For a three hour tour, a three hour tour.

The weather started getting rough,

The tiny ship was tossed,

If not for the courage of the fearless crew

The Nimmow would be lost, the Nimmow would be lost.

The ship set ground on the shore of this, bio desert isle

With Jilligan

The Kipper too,

A bag of hair and a knife,

A muesli bar

A compressor and jerry can,

Here on Jilligan’s Isle.

Hmmm, hardly reassuring but vaguely familiar is some strange sort of way. Jilligan approaches me “Here Sandy, you and Zeb will need these”. Safety lines, what in the fuck will we need these for? “When we hit the tube it gets pretty rough and then there’s the membrane”. “The membrane?” I ask. “Yeah, the membrane holds the river water from the sea water, you know, Glad Wrap” smirks Jilligan.

As we approach the tube the current starts to accelerate. The pace of the boat quickens along with my pulse. I double check our lines and I can see the top of the tube is clear. I can see the stars as clear as a bell then suddenly, bang! The pace is electric. Waves of water pound over the bow. I am scared out of my wits. The nanobots in my jocks will be working overtime tonight. “Prepare to come about” called the Kipper. What the fuck does that mean? The ship groans under immense pressure. I hear the keel scrape against the membrane and then thump goes a pole into my head and I drop to the deck, unconscious.

I wake up on a beach. Zeb is licking my face and the SS Nimmow is prostrate up on the sand. I can smell bacon cooking and the aroma of coffee meanders through the air. The Kipper sings out “C’mon Sandy, breakfast is ready”. Breakfast,  last thing I remember was scrapping the membrane. “Sorry mate a mast broke and you got hit on the head. Henry is sending the rescue party but Belinda is dirty as you were on a promise, whatever that means, wanna see the engine?” the Kipper blurts. Engines are about as interesting as cricket but I go along with it plus the bacon sarnie and coffee is hitting the spot. “Yeah, sure, where is it?” I ask.

The Kipper takes us along a track into the island, so this is Jilligan’s Island I think to myself. The Kipper points to a tunnel. “That’s the Urethra” he bellows, not so loud mate me head hurts. “You go down the Urethra and you find the WEE”. Hang on a minute, is he having a lend of me. We enter the tunnel and it’s rather short. At the end of the tunnel is a hatch and we enter. It opens into the top section of an huge building. We must be twenty stories high. Whoa I am feeling a little wonky. At the bottom of the building is a very large white box shaped object with some indescribable objects attached to it. “That’s the WEE” says the Kipper “The Wireless Electric Engine”. He points to the attached objects and says “That’s the Gizmo and that’s the Thingy. In combination they propel the ship at very high speed”. So a gizmo and a thingy couple with the wee to go fast, oh dear, not very scientific I suppose. “This is complex fiction” I reply finding it hard to come up with anything useful to say. Looking around I see all these tubes and ladders running up and down the inside of the building. I point them out and ask what they are. “Gee Sandy, what rock have you been living under. The tubes are called Snakes and the Ladders are just that, I mean haven’t you ever heard of the transport system called Snakes and Ladders?” replies a smug Jilligan.

…….No, it was Warrigal all along … who did the digital mischief

O’Way hurtling through shallow space

Dirigible Warrigal by Mischief

So, we have been in space for weeks now. The ship can’t go very fast when it’s inside a solar system and Henry has to work hard avoiding things. There’s a tollway just the other side of Pluto and that’s where we’re heading.

Life in the village is idyllic. The crew, well the droids but we refer to them as crew now as they are so human and friendly, create a great ambience of English rural life. Mornings are taken up with breakfast in the court yard. I usually read the paper, The Intergalactic Times, which is beamed to the ships computer everyday. I don’t understand much of it but I’m learning. Belinda chats away about her plans and then her and George set off to the shops to pick up the daily groceries.

This gives me time to reflect. I was born at the Matworth Base Hospital right on change of shift which immediately put me of side with the staff. I was Chinese and my parents called me Nick, Nicolas Xavier Wong. My dad, Walter, a very wealthy man, was a watch maker and he was proud of his shop “Walter Wong’s Watches” being displayed across the front in large letters. “One day all this will be yours Nick X” he would say. My elder sister was Penny, Penny Wong. We would play for hours every day in a creek that ran past the back yard. Penny used to love to tell me “One day me and you are going to control all of this water Nick X”. My family always called me Nick X. I think it was because I didn’t look like them and couldn’t master chop sticks very well.

My dad was always looking to get richer. He used to tinker with computers and one day at a large family gathering my Dad said “You know, one day computers will communicate with each other via the phone line, the information will be broken up into packets and reassembled at the other end”. “Preposterous” came the cries and the next day men in white coats came and took my dad away. Not long after that the police arrived.  My mum was feeling bad because she missed dad and the policeman said “Mavis” that’s my mum’s name “Mavis you’ve brought home the wrong child from the hospital” “Yes, that’s right the Wong child” replied mum in her broken English. “No the wrong, wrong child” emphasised the policeman “He’s a Wong” said mum “No wrong, w.r.o.n.g. child meaning Nick isn’t yours” and so I was taken away to my new family, John and Olive O’Way.

My new parents called me Alexander Leonard Lyndhurst O’Way, yes an acronym, that’s why I hate them, and as you know, everyone calls me Sandy. My new family were poor. They didn’t eat fish and rice like the Wongs but lamb and potatoes instead. My dad was a university professor and my mum was a farmer’s daughter. This was all very different and it took me a long time to adjust.

Then I met Trevor. Trevor lived next door and loved cricket. We played cricket all day and into the night until our mum’s would come and get us. In the park on weekends the Test match was on. Me and Trev would always play on the same team, usually with Jules and MJ. On the other team were always Glenda and some of her sisters. Glenda had eight sisters Juanita, Jacinta, Melinda, Rosita, Edwina, Sophia, Cassandra and Belinda but man Glenda was awesome. She would tonk you all over the park and was a good bowler as well.

Then things changed. Trevor had to move away as his dad got a job in the mines. All the gang would come over to my house “C’mon Sandy, you’re the only one that can get Glenda out” they’d cry but to no avail. I lost my interest in cricket from that day forward.

Many years later I attended the Sow End High School for Boys with Criminal Records where I met the Bish. Billy Bishop. Billy told me a story one day about wanting to become a priest. Billy said they feed you, provide you a house and all you have to do is wear a funny gown and listen to people’s problems. So Billy and I joined up. Billy wanted to get up the ladder and moved on but running a parish was good enough for me. So that’s how I ended up at the parish of St Generic, St Generic Brand, in the good old inner west of Cyberia, pub regular at the Pigs Arms and now on a spaceship headed for the planet Joon to report on a cricket game. Work that one out.

Look, I’m having trouble suspendering belief too …. just go with me…..

Midgetall Dischief by Warrigal

I’ve just been reunited with the best dog in the world, no, the best dog in the universe and have returned to the manor to find Helvi waiting for us in the sitting room. “Helvi, wow, fantastic, how did you get here?” I ask. “Good afternoon you two cuties. I’m Helvi-tastic Model A1” replies Helvi! Helvi is a droid? Does Gez know? My mind is racing. “Oh Helvi, so you are a droid?” asks Belinda. “Yes Belinda. Gordon got my creator to make me in the likeness of Helvi as part of the SNAP program. I’m your SNAP Coordinator.” Bloody acronyms, I hate bloody acronyms. “SNAP Helvi?” I ask stupidly “Model A1?” “Yes Sandy, SNAP stands for Space Normalisation Adaptation Process. I will help you settle into village life. And yes my creator wouldn’t make any more models as it’s impossible to improve on perfection” Helvi informs us.

“Now lets get you two dressed” says the Helvi-tastic as she marches off into the bedroom. Helvi opens the wardrobe and there are a small amount of clothes hanging up and some drawers. “Now strip off Sandy” instructs Helvi. “But Helvi I hardly know you” I gush as I feel my cheeks going red. “Now Sandy, I’m a woman of the world and seeing you naked is not going to overload my circuits.” With that, Belinda and Helvi break into laughter. I disrobe and remove my slippers. “Hmmm, not bad Belinda, but such a small thing” jokes Helvi as she opens a drawer and throws me a pair of jocks. “Here, put these on.” I pull on the jocks and within a few seconds, they adjust to fit me perfectly. In fact these are the most comfortable jocks I’ve ever had. Before I even get to ask Helvi pipes in “All of the clothing here is self adjustable. G. King makes them. Nanobots adjust everything to suit your shape and size. They will also adjust the clothing based on temperature and other data they receive from the central computer.” “Catherine?” I bemoan, “The control freak of a computer that walks around the ship as a cat. I hate cats”. Suddenly my jocks tighten and my goolies are being crushed. The pain is immense and I drop to the ground. “Catherine, let Sandy’s nuts go” says Helvi. “Catherine, let him go please. Remember in the next few chapters he learns about programming” Helvi states calmly. The jocks loosen up and go back to normal. Better be careful for the next few chapters it would seem.

Helvi tosses me some pants, a shirt and a light jacket. I put them on and the same thing happens. The clothes adjust to fit me perfectly and I feel very comfortable. Socks and shoes, all the same, wow, this G King must be some sort of genius.  “So now Sandy, why don’t you go over to the pub for a few pints while I make this charming young princess of yours ever more beautiful then she already is” Helvi says. Darn just when we were getting to the good bit, but Helvi-tastic was right, she is perfect, a woman telling you to go and have a few ales, perfect all right.

Tiring of Georges bland attentions, Helvibot had Gordon knock up something more homey so she could have some company and conversation on her tea break

Digital Lunacy by Warrigal

So here we are in the control room of a spaceship called the SHITS 38B, B being for Biosphere. We have just whizzed round the moon at a million miles per hour and are heading back to an orbit near Earth so Gordon can teleport back to the surface. “Anyway” says Gordon, “Lets go and get you two dressed” nodding in the direction of Belinda and me. Having been so preoccupied with everything that’s been happening I glance down to see that I’m still in my bathrobe and slippers. I glimpse at Belinda and she is the same. As I turn to leave the cabin on a mat on the floor is a blue heeler. It can’t be. Zeb, the greatest dog of all time, yes, its Zeberdee. I race over too him. He sits obediently and puts up his paw just as he always does. “Gordon, how did you get Zeb here?” I ask ecstatically. “Sorry Sandy, it’s a droid made in Zeberdee’s likeness. The Fa…, oops Henry, uses this form when he needs to move around the ship.” But Zeb, I loved him, he was just the greatest, liked to wrestle and was the best cover fielder we ever had. “He can come with you as Zeberdee if you want, Henry doesn’t go out much” Gordon says, “Oh yes please, c’mon Zeb, you’re with us,” I announce with great affection.

With Zeb in close proximity, we head back to the manor to get some clothes on. As we walk along, I raise a tricky issue with Gordon. “Gordon” I pose “If the universe is in a box at the back of the science lab, it must be a pretty big box?” “Well no Sandy’ Gordon replies, “It’s actually quite small. You remember when you were six and your parents brought you those Hush Puppies?” Yes, I do remember, my first pair of Hush Puppies. I kept the box in the bottom of my wardrobe with all my favourite cricket cards. “Well it’s about that big,” Gordon reveals. I’m shocked, I mean that’s small, incredibly small. “So” I press unsure as to if I want the answer “How do you fit in the box?” Gordon starts looking a little bit agitated “Okay, okay, look Sandy, it’s beer o’clock and I need to get back to Earth for a few lagers. But look, I get schnitzelised. You pass thru a schnitzeliser as a 1.84 metre Meupian and then through the box as an object about the size of a sub atomic particle.” I knew I wouldn’t like the answer but being the idiot that I am I press on “Schnitzeliser?” “Yes” replies Gordon “A schnitzeliser, designed by our university professor T.D. Schnitzel”. Being unable to help myself at this stage, I ask, “So what does T.D. stand for?” “Ten Dollar” Gordon informs “So along with Chips and Salad they invented the schnitzeliser”. I can’t resist anymore “You mean Professor Chips and Professor Salad?” I ask waiting for a canning “Yes” says Gordon “How did you know that? By jove Sandy you are a dark horse.”

The rest of the trip is in silence as Belinda and I with the ever-faithful Zeb, ponder the universe existing in a shoebox in the back of the science lab and a machine that transmits people invented by Ten Dollar Schnitzel with Chips and Salad. Boy, some things about space just never cease to amaze me. Gordon stops and says “Well I’m off, see you when you get back”. He sticks his finger in his mouth and disappears. What the f…?

Dazed, we cross the village green, across the cricket pitch and enter the manor. George comes out to greet us. “Sir, Miss Belinda, you have a visitor”. No sorry, not possible, who could possibly visit us here. “In the sitting room” gestures George. Belinda and I enter the room, “Helvi!” Belinda cries, “Helvi, Helvi, Helvi” she shrieks.

Evidence of Aliens playing at Cricket

Digital Skullduggery by Warrigal

Gordon leads us out of the pub and down a small alleyway. We come to a door. Over the doorway is a sign “FARTS ROOM”. Gordon slides a card through the scanner and we enter. It hits me like a ton of bricks. We are in some sort of control room. We are IN space. The Earth is receding behind us and we are closing in on the moon. Wow, this is for real. My heart is racing and even Belinda, who has been as solid as a rock, is squeezing my hand hard.

“Yes, we are in space, different isn’t it?” says Gordon who has a cheeky grin on his face. “FART, this is Sandy and Belinda. They are off into space shortly so they will be calling on you” Gordon relates. “Afternoon Father, Miss Belinda” “Afternoon” we mutter nervously. “Look Gordon, can we call the FART by name? FART is a quasi-offensive term on Earth” “Certainly” Gordon says “What name would you like?” “I am model Vee.1.1.1 if that helps” interjects FART, “Lets see,” says Belinda “VIII, how about Henry as in Henry VIII?” “Certainly” says FART “Reprogramming, Central Computer Catherine, recognize FART as Henry, confirmed” reports FART. “Dead slow to the moon” Gordon commands. “Yes boss” replies Henry.

“So when you need to see Henry, come down the alleyway. Here’s your cards, these will get you anywhere on the ship”. Gordon hands Belinda and me a credit card each. “If you need to buy anything just use the card. It’s attached to my account.” “So Gordon when I get to these places you want me to go, how do I communicate with whomever I meet, won’t they have their own languages?” I ask. “Well sort of but don’t worry, everyone will speak English” “English? In the universe?” I gasp. “Yes, Sandy, English. I taught them English when I taught them cricket” Gordon replies. “So Gordon, what about your world, your dimension? Are you God? Did you create the universe? Are you a human? Do you speak English on your world?” “Sandy, Sandy, Sandy. Okay, look you’re right, I haven’t told you much about that part have I?” Gordon responds. “Okay, so let’s see. No, I’m not God as you know it. I’m a uni student who with a bunch of my class mates created the universe. The universe is in a black box at the back of the science lab for Astrophysics 101. I’m studying for a degree and my thesis is on Cricket in the Milky Way. Our sun is called Star T, our planet is Meup and I live on an island called Never Stop. Our capital is Running Hot and the major river is named Grown Men Cry. We use vehicles that ride the wind at double speed but believe me I’ll show you places that you’ve never never seen”.

“Hang on a minute, Star T, Meup, Never Stop, Grown Man Cry, isn’t that a Rolling Stones song?” I press annoyed that someone might be having a lend of me. “Well, I ran into Mick, we had a few drinks, back to his house for a jam, told him my story, next thing I know he’s got a number one hit, sheez, you just can’t trust some people.” Gordon bemoans. “Anyway, that’s enough about me, so will you do this trip?” I look to Belinda and I can see that glint in her eyes that tells me that I had better or else. “Yes Gordon” I surrender “We’ll do the trip. So where do we go?” “Good man Sandy, I knew you were up to it. Okay so take this, it’s the equivalent to an intergalactic mobile phone. First destination is Joon. The Bilbobs are playing the Aryans in the one day final. I’ll phone you with the next stop later. Keep and eye on the opener, Zim Away, promising young player, should be a great match, Earth thanks Henry” “Earth, dead slow Boss” says Henry.

George Doing His Duty

Digital Malfeasance by Warrigal

So here I am, on a spaceship that’s going to the moon. I have a butler called George, the beautiful Belinda as my companion and a control freak of a computer called Catherine. What am I in for? Who knows? Belinda and I go for a walk around the village and of course in its centre is a green with, you guessed it, a cricket pitch. Droids are moving back and forth dressed in rural style clothing and as they walk past they sing out “Morning Father, morning Miss Belinda” “Morning” we reply.

The village has shops, café’s, a cinema, several pubs and two restaurants. At the end of the main street is a river that meanders off into the distance. How does all of this happen in a spaceship? I mean the sun is shining, there is a light breeze, and clouds are moving across the sky, I am struggling to take this all in. We sit on a bench and watch the river flowing. Belinda holds my hand. Her warmth makes me feel better and I’m so glad she is with me. We walk back to the Bats Droppings to meet Gordon.

“Sandy, Belinda, over here” Gordon beckons. We look round the pub. People are sitting at tables and someone is selecting some music on the jukebox. A man comes around the corner of the bar. “Afternoon Father, Miss Belinda, I’m Michael, Michael Jones and this is my pub, let me get you a drink. Trotters for you Father and the young miss would like a tonic water” Trotters, how the f….? Well I guess I’m about to find out. “Delightful, thanks Michael”.

We get our drinks and join Gordon. “Gordon, I’ve so many questions, I don’t know where to start plus I only have 500 words to play with” I gush, totally out of my depth. “Well” Gordon begins “let me tell you a few things and then we can talk about it. Last night we teleported up to the ship on SPITS. You are living in the English Village bio of the ship. After lunch I’ll take you to meet the FART and Catherine the controlling computer. The FART will take us for a quick trip round the moon then I’ll get you to drop me off back on Earth and you can head off. First you’ll need this”. Gordon pushes a book across the table. The book is called ‘Space Navigation for Dummies’. I flick to the table of contents. It reads, 1. Avoiding BO, 2. Watch out for BOOBS, 3. When to use a GOAT. 4. Five questions you should ask a FART, 5. Things you need to know about Space Travel and 6. The Complete List of Space Acronyms.  It’s an incredibly small book for such a big subject. Gordon seems to know what I’m thinking “Okay so let me guess, small book big subject?” I nod passively “It’s pretty well all you need to know. Catherine runs the ship in conjunction with the FART and the Droids. You travel around the ship via the river. The river will take you to the other bio’s. Now Avoid BO” Yes I must say body odour can be intolerable at times “Body odour Gordon?” I ask knowing I’ll be wrong. “No Sandy, Big Objects. In space there are lots of Big Objects, avoid them at all costs”. “Boobs?” I ask and no, I don’t even want to go there even though boobs are my favourite subject. “Big Objects Out Back Side. If you have a Big Object Out Back Side then you are in trouble, really big trouble”.

“Gordon, whats a GOAT?” Belinda pipes in, “I mean you don’t sacrifice them at full moon or anything do you?” “No, my dear child a GOAT is a Giant Object Atomising Teleporter. It’s how we get big stuff on and off the ship”. “But Gordon” I question, “If I don’t need to know much about all this why there are five questions you should ask a FART?” “Well Sandy” Gordon responds “there’s an old saying, when you hit 50 never trust a FART”. Just as lunch is served, a cat enters the room and sits on one of the seats at our table. Gordon says “Sandy, Belinda, meet Catherine”. A cat, you mean to tell me that a cat runs a spaceship. The only good cat is a dead cat. “Good afternoon Father, Miss Belinda, I’m Catherine. When I roam around the ship I use this form, helps me catch any rats” she laughs wickedly. “Anyway, I’ll meet you later, see you”

The Game they Really Play in Heaven

Digital Amazement by Warrigal Mirriyuula

I’ve slipped through a crack in the floor and I’m falling, fast. It’s dark, I can’t see the bottom, ah shit, someone help me, aaaaarrrrggggghhhhh. I sit up in bed. Thank God or should I say thank Gordon, it was just a bad dream. I look around the room. Can’t say I recognize anything. The room is large and beautifully appointed. The bed is a four-poster with quills around each post. Belinda is next to me sleeping peacefully. The sun is peering through the window my eyes narrow as my brain is hurting from all of the fine wine consumed last night at the rectory. That brandy from Gordon, 200 years old, smooth as a baby’s bottom but man I’ve hung one on alright. What did Gordon say, space, cricket, shit, he was pulling my leg big time. Nevertheless, where the fuck am I? I don a robe and slippers that’s on the chair next to the bed and have an explore. Doesn’t look like the Rectory to me.

Out of the bedroom and down a passage way there’s another bedroom unoccupied. Adjacent there’s a room with two chairs but no window, how odd. Next is a sitting room/library. One wall is full of books. I take a closer look. Yes the usual villains, Hemingway, Tolstoy, Tolkien and ah yes, ‘By Way of Sainte-Beuve’ by Marcel Proust. Gee, 19^th century fancy boys’ giving each other a spanking, heady stuff. I open the cover and there’s an inscription ‘This book belongs to Helvi Oosterman, Christmas 1963’ that has been crudely crossed out and the words ‘Not any more, September 2009, Gerard Oosterman’ written underneath. Hmmm, is that Gez and Helvi from the Pigs Arms?

I walk out to the back of the house into a large kitchen, absolutely stunning. Cooking implements are hanging from hooks off a wheel attached to the roof. An incredible stove with every bell and whistle you can imagine. To the left is a cupboard probably the pantry. I open the door and there’s a man standing in there with his eyes closed. I scream at the top of my lungs. The man says, “Self activate”. Belinda comes running down the passageway and into the kitchen. “Sandy, Sandy, what’s wrong?” “Belinda where am I, what am I doing here and who is he?” The man responds “My name is Geo dot r dot ge” “Geo.r.ge?” I respond in shock, “Yes Sir, I am your butler”. I plop myself down on a chair at the table. “Sandy, its okay, we’re on the spaceship, we teleported up from the Rectory last night” Belinda informs me.

Last night, last night, the dinner, Gordon’s request, falling through the hole, spaceship, but this is a house, the sun is shining, and my whole world is in chaos, the only thing real is Belinda. “Yes we are in one of the bio’s, you know biosphere” Belinda puts me in the picture. “Gordon’s had this one designed to resemble an English village, this is our manor, Sandy this is soooo exciting, its fantastic” Yes. Fantastic but what have I got myself in for. “Gordon has booked a table for you both at 1300hrs for lunch, at the Bat’s Droppings, it’s a pub in the village. He wants to explain things. Now how about scrambled eggs, crispy bacon, tomato juice and black coffee, sound good?” says Geo.r.ge. I reckon, a shot of brandy in the coffee if you don’t mind. I need to get myself together, go along with it for the moment. Belinda seems comfortable with it all so let’s ride with it. “Geo old chap, look can I just call you George?”, “Reprogramming, Central Computer, Catherine, recognize Geo.r.ge as George, confirmed, most certainly Sir”. “Now tell me about that cupboard?” I inquire, “My recharging station Sir” states George, “Please call me Sandy” I request, I hate formalities, “Isn’t sandy a word used to describe a beach?” asks George. “Yes but in my world everyone abbreviates Alexander to Sandy. My real name is Alexander but just call me Sandy and we’ll get along fine. Now Belinda my sweet, did you say this one, meaning that there are other bio’s on the ship?” I ask. “Well yes Sandy, several in fact, each have a different theme but Gordon said he will tell us all we need to know at lunch” Belinda enlightens me. So lunch it will have to be. “Breakfast will be fine George, but how did you know that was my favourite breakfast?” I press, “I know lots about you Sir, oops, Sandy, we have been studying you and your planet for some time now” confesses George. “We? How many are there of you?” I ask. “299 to be precise Sandy, but Catherine has been studying you at length and she has programmed all of us Droids to know you”. “Catherine? Who is this Catherine woman?” I demand. “Catherine is the central controlling computer, she controls everything” says George.