The UK Government has just decided to double the minimum income requirement for British citizens wanting to bring foreign spouses to live in the UK.
2024 will be a general election year and news that the net migration figures, which the current Government was elected to reduce, are at an all time high has caused waves of panic through the conservative party, who are desperate to pander to the most base desires of the electorate, are reacting with desperate measures which will do nothing to stop illegal immigrants arriving by boats but will just prevent loving families from settling and working in the UK.
The Labour Party, which is just as desperate as the Tories, and the media, who love sensation, are doing nothing to recentre the debate around why we need net migration to pay for the pensions for our aging population and to do the jobs that the British are unwilling to do.
In the year ending June 2023 non-EU immigration arriving for work accounted for 33%, study was 39% and humanitarian reasons was 9%. This means that the vast majority are either contributing to our society by paying taxes or paying academic institutions for courses and then spending money in the economy through living expenses.
In November 2022, 13.3% of businesses surveyed by the ONS reported experiencing a shortage of workers. The percentage of businesses experiencing a shortage of workers has been between 12.9% and 15.4% since October 2021, with the exception of August 2022, when 16.8% of businesses reported a shortage.
The industries experiencing the biggest shortage were accommodation and food services at 35%, construction at 21% and human health and social works at 19%.
Given that the average salary in accommodation and food service is 25,522, construction 38,000 and Human health and social works is 32,194 it is strange that the Government would seek to set the minimum salary for skilled workers and for those British citizens wishing to bring spouses to the UK at 38,700, in excess of the average salaries of the three most understaffed industries.
It is clear that the Government is simply trying to pander to the xenophobic heart of middle England but all it is succeeding in doing is ensuring that our care homes remain understaffed and that British citizens who married while working abroad are now unable to return to the UK with their families.
Frank, a resident of the Cave Court Care Home, spends his days trying to convince his fellow residents why socialism must replace capitalism.
However, his audience is less than receptive to his political ideals.
Sue and her fellow staff are overworked, understaffed and underpaid. Their life is a constant struggle to pay the bills and keep their heads above water.
The Ragged Arsed Philanthropists follows the lives of the staff and residents of Cave Court.
Will they overcome all the obstacles thrown at them as they navigate 2020s Britain.
Based on the 1914 novel, the Ragged Trousered Philanthropists by Robert Tressell.
Chapter One
The house was originally named “The Cave”. It was a large old-fashioned three-storied building standing on an acre of ground in the suburbs of Mugsborough. It stood back nearly two hundred yards from the main road and was reached by a concrete drive, on each side of which was a brick wall.
In its heyday, the house had been the private home of a wealthy individual in Mugsborough society. It was one of many similar large homes in the town and developers had converted most of them into offices, medical centres, hotels filled with the town’s disproportionate share of refugees, or homes of multiple occupancy. They had converted The Cave into a care home and had renamed it Cave Court Care Home (Mugsborough).
Susan stopped to catch her breath at the end of the driveway. She wasn’t getting any younger and the hill leading up to the house was not getting any less steep. Stopping for a moment to rest at a bus stop, she could allow herself this brief rest as she was on time for the handover from the night shift for a change. Her partner, Carole, had been sleeping when Sue had left this morning, and that always simplified the procedure required to get herself out of the front door.
“Morning Sue,” Binajit was the first to greet her colleague as she walked through the door.
“Morning Bina, all quiet on the western front?”
“Not bad. I had time to peel the potatoes, and I’ve got some residents up. Is everything good at home?”
“Yes, thank you,” Susan lied. “You’re a star. What are Femi and Matt doing?”
“They’re just trying to get a couple more up before they go.”
Susan checked the rota.
“Only Kath, Julie and Amanda? None of them here yet?”
“Not yet. I’ll stay on longer for you.”
“Thanks Bina, and thanks for clearing the dinner stuff yesterday.”
“Don’t mention it. I know what it’s like when you don’t have enough hands.”
“Tell me about it.”
“That’s it, I can’t do anymore,” said Matt, as he entered the office. “Day shift will have to do the rest. Morning Sue.”
“Morning Matt. Anything I should know about?”
“No, I think everyone is back in their own rooms now.”
“Had a few walkers, did you?”
“Just a few, anyway enough about me, more about you. How’s Carole?”
“Oh, you know. Can’t complain,” Susan lied again. “Want a cuppa?”
“No thanks, Sue. As soon as my shift is over, I’m out of here. Breakfast trolley is almost ready.”
“Thanks.”
“Don’t thank me, thank Femi. It was all his doing, so if there’s anything wrong, you can blame him.”
“Thanks, I will. Matt, any chance you can hang on a bit until the others get here?”
“Muggins here? Of course I will.”
“Bina? Tea? Coffee?”
“I just had one, thanks. I didn’t have time to finish the medications, so I’ll get those ready for you now.”
“Thanks Bina, you’re a star.”
All their heads turned as they heard the door open and shut.
“Sorry I’m late,” said Katherine, bustling into the office and looking around. “Have you finished already?”
“Morning Kath,” said Matt. “Fun and frolics on the school run?”
“Isn’t it always?”
“Morning Kath, tea?”
“Morning. Yes please, Sue. Have I missed the handover?”
“No, we’re still waiting for Julie and Amanda.”
The door opened and shut again.
“Speak of the devil,” said Matt.
“Sorry I’m late,” said Julie, bustling into the office and looking around. “Have you finished already?”
“Anyone else have a feeling of déjà vu?” said Matt. “Morning Jules, you’re not the last. Amanda’s not here yet. Sue’s got the kettle on if you want a cuppa.”
“Oh, yes please, Sue. I tell you what, these buses will be the death of me.”
They could hear a car pulling up outside.
“That’ll be Amanda,” said Matt.
“She’s the only one with a car and she’s the last one here,” said Julie.
“I’ll tell her you said that.”
“Be my guest.”
“The traffic was terrible,” said Amanda when she entered the office.
“Jules was saying you’re the only one with a car and you’re the last one here.”
“Matt!”
“Yeah, I know, it’s ridiculous, isn’t it?” Amanda admitted.
“Coffee? The kettles just boiled.”
“Yes please, Sue. I could murder a cuppa. I didn’t have time to make one this morning.”
“Are you okay?” asked Kath.
“Yeah,” Amanda sighed. “I think Oliver is being bullied at school. He says he’s not, but he keeps coming home covered in bruises.”
“Have you told anyone?”
“I spoke to his teacher this morning. That’s why I’m late. She hasn’t noticed anything, but she said she’d keep an eye on him.”
“That’s awful. Kids can be horrible, can’t they?”
“So can adults,” said Matt.
“You should know,” said Julie.
“On that note, I’m outta here.”
“Nothing else we should know?” asked Sue.
“Don’t think so. Unless Femi knows something I don’t.”
“Okay, thanks Matt. See you later.”
“Not if I see you first.”
As Matt left the office, Binajit came back in.
“All the meds are ready. Morning everyone.”
“Thanks Bina,” said Sue. “Everyone’s here now, so you can get off now if you’d want.”
“Right, I’ll be off then. See you later. Have a nice day.”
“We won’t,” said Julie.
Sue handed out the drinks just as Femi entered.
“Femi! Drink? The kettles just boiled.”
“No thank you, Sue. If it’s all the same with you, I will go home now.”
“Of course, thanks Femi. Anything we should know about?”
“Nothing different from normal. I got as many up as I could, but I have to go now.”
“Thanks, Femi. See you later.”
Olufemi was born in Nigeria. He fled the country after being sentenced to death for being gay. When he first arrived in the UK, he was full of optimism and took a course in documentary-making, choosing to report on the lives of London’s homeless, never imagining he would soon be in their shoes.
At first the Home office refused his request for asylum because he did not recognise gay icons when presented with photos of them. When the charity acting as his advocate asked the Home Office which gay icons they were referring to, they said they had showed him photos of Kylie Minogue and George Michael and he didn’t know who they were.
When they refused his request, it left him with two options: go home to Nigeria where his death sentence would be carried out, or disappear. It wasn’t a difficult choice.
Finding himself on the streets, Femi spent the nights on London buses. He travelled light, carrying a small tote bag, to avoid the stigma of homelessness during the day. If he was lucky, he would get two hours of sleep a night.
He made friends who regularly saw him on the buses. A church minister bought him a monthly pass to save him multiple nightly fares. She continued to do so, month after month, and other friends would chip in if she wasn’t around.
During the day, Femi volunteered at churches. When his work was done, he would head to Westminster Reference Library, where he would catch up on the day’s news and pick up where he’d left off in the book he’d been reading. Then he would ask a restaurant manager if they could spare some food. He was rarely turned away. No later than 9pm, he would step aboard a bus for the first of three or four nightly trips across the capital.
At dawn, friendly staff at the Leicester Square branch of McDonald’s would give him food and let him shave in the bathrooms. Fellow customers could be kind, too.
Eventually, the legal team at the church where he volunteered offered to apply for ‘leave to remain’ on his behalf, provided he could prove that he had continuously lived in the UK for at least five years.
He had spent his time avoiding all records and evading detection. Femi asked the friendliest bus drivers to write him a letter of support. One obliged, confirming he was ‘a regular rider throughout the night’. The churches he had volunteered at over the years provided supporting statements and dug out old photographs recording his presence at charity events.
A change in home office rules meant that after a year of waiting for a decision, Femi could apply for a job. He signed a zero hours contract to work nights in a care home and continued working there when, finally; they granted him leave to remain in the UK.
Back in the Cave, Sue was making the rounds with the medication, and Julie and Kath were assisting residents in getting up, dressed, washed, and bathed. Meanwhile, Amanda was in charge of the breakfast trolley.
Cave Court provided what they called a flexible breakfast. This comprised a fixed breakfast menu which could be eaten at the resident’s time of choosing within agreed limits. The idea of the flexible breakfast service was to enable residents to eat and drink soon after rising, allow choice, provide a steady flow of people to the dining area, require minimal preparation and service time, and allow the catering staff to start at the proper time and still be able to start preparing lunch early.
Some residents, sat at the breakfast table, were already getting impatient and one resident began complaining about the wait.
“Well, go to the restaurant down the road, Betty, and see if they keep you waiting so long,” said Amanda.
“I wouldn’t wait this long in a restaurant,” Betty muttered.
“You know how understaffed we are.”
Amanda had already prepared the initial breakfast offering, which comprised cereal, toast, pre-prepared portions of porridge that could be microwaved, prunes, apples, oranges, yoghurt, tea, coffee and water. However, residents wanting a cooked breakfast had to wait for whatever was on the menu that day to be prepared and they only offered a cooked breakfast three or four days a week and never on Sundays when there was a Sunday roast with pudding.
“What do you want, Betty?” asked Bill.
Bill was the care home’s maintenance person and wasn’t responsible for distributing the breakfasts. However, Bill was well aware of the implications of short staffed shifts and knew that helping a little reduced the level of resident complaints and that was beneficial for everyone.
“I want my egg, Bill,” said Betty. “I can’t start my day without my egg.”
“Amanda will sort your egg out. Why don’t I get you tea or coffee while you’re waiting?”
“Tea please Bill. Milk, no sugar. You are good to me, not like the others.”
“Now, now, Betty, you mustn’t be harsh on them. You know how understaffed they are.”
“Well, why don’t they employ more staff then?”
“It’s difficult to find people these days, Betty.”
Bill knew that this was partly true. It was difficult to fill vacancies in the care sector, partly because of the poor pay and working conditions. But Bill was also well aware that the care home owners were reluctant to employ more staff whose wages would cut into their bottom line.
“There you are, Betty,” said Bill, setting her cup of tea in front of her. “Amanda will be along with your egg shortly.”
Amanda was in the kitchen attending to Betty’s egg. She didn’t want to work in Cave Court, but she needed to work around school hours, which limited her options. She wasn’t earning as much money as she wanted, but it was the best arrangement for her, allowing her to drop her children at their schools’ breakfast clubs before work and collecting them afterwards. Difficulty in accessing a suitable job led Amanda and her husband, Daniel, into taking on additional debt. They had suffered a reduction in earnings due to furlough during the pandemic and were still suffering lower levels of income because Daniel’s employers had reduced his hours. Now the couple were struggling to make their debt payments, and it was this that was worrying Amanda more than the late arrival of Betty’s egg.
Sevan’s marbles were still sore when he was awoken by the ship’s alarm. He dragged himself out of his bunk and up to the bridge, where he could see Sonvaenope large in the observation windows. It was clear someone on the surface was shooting at them.
“What’s happening?” he asked.
“We are being shot at,” said Ay-ttho
“No uxlod, Moncur,” said Sevan, referring to the famous detective of the entertainment implant series of the old Republic, who was famous for solving every case. “Have they done much damage?”
“None,” said Tori. “Their weapon isn’t powerful. Ron is transmitting ‘we come in peace’ messages.”
“As long as we don’t come in pieces,” Sevan joked, but nobody laughed.
“This is the same location we left the colony of Angetenarians all that time ago,” Tori observed.
Sevan thought that would save credits in set building if they ever made the story of their lives into a series for an entertainment implant.
Ron landed the ship on the outskirts and, even before the engines had shut down, a large crowd had gathered.
“Oh, my Giant Cup!” Ay-ttho exclaimed as she watched the crowd part to let through an individual, clearly of some importance.
“What is it?” asked Sevan.
“Sgniwef!”
“Sgniwef of Ao-Jun?” asked Tori. “But surely that’s impossible. We have been in suspended animation for ages. She must be dead by now.”
“The Ao-jun live long lives,” Ay-ttho explained. “That is Sgniwef. I would bet Sevan’s marbles on it.”
“Not the Sgniwef of the Zistreotovean war?” asked Pirate.
“The same.”
“I wonder if she is still with Luap?”
Ay-ttho descended from the ship and approached Sgniwef, whom she considered having not aged considerably.
Sevan thought the entertainment implant series of their lives was looking very viable if they could re-use characters.
“It has been a very long time, Sgniwef. I think the last time I saw you, Matthews was president,” said Ay-ttho
“Who is it that claims to know me from such times past?” Sgniwef asked.
“My name is Ay-ttho San An Wan. This is Tori, Sevan, Pirate and Witt. And this is our ship, the Mastery of the Stars.”
“Sevan? Didn’t he help Matthews kill Ydna?”
“I didn’t help so much as tagged along.”
“What brings you here to Sonvaenope?”
“We detected your signal from Angetenar. You should be careful because if we can detect you, the Zoxans might also and your gun will be no match against them.”
“What you experienced were only warning shots. Our true arsenal is much more powerful.”
“Glad to hear it.”
“Oh yes, the Zoxans. We have successfully hidden from the Zoxans for many solar cycles, but we have heard of new dangers of Zoxans helping one tribe of old Republicans against another. The Ao-jun are now nomadic, like nearly everyone who is not enslaved by the Zoxans. How do we know you are not in league with the Zoxans?”
“I ask to trust us and take my word for it.”
“That is easier said than done. However, the Ao-jun are hospitable. Therefore, I invite you to stay with us at our settlement for as long as you need and trust that you do not bring the Zoxan forces with you.”
“We are very grateful for your trust and promise that we will not betray it. There is one thing I don’t understand. Our scanners showed a tiny settlement, but your settlement is large.”
“We have been using radiation masking to hide us. You shouldn’t have been able to detect us at all. We must be vulnerable to the Zoxans.”
“I don’t think so. The scanners on the Mastery of the Stars are very good, far advanced than anything the Zoxans have, I would imagine.”
“Let’s hope you are right.”
Sgniwef led them into the settlement and into a large hall which looked like they must use it as a meeting place.
“This is Luap, my partner,” said Sgniwef, gesturing to where Luap was sitting.
“So that is Luap,” Witt whispered. “I thought the face that launched a thousand ships would have been nicer.”
“Oh, I don’t know,” whispered Pirate. “I think time has been very kind to him.”
“Luap will throw a party in your honour,” said Sgniwef. “You must forgive me. I have business I must attend to and must leave, but I will return. In the meantime, I will leave you in the capable claws of my partner.”
“Lucky us,” Pirate whispered.
Sgniwef left the hall and left the visitors wondering what to do next.
“You must forgive my partner,” said Luap. “She is always very busy. Please take a seat.”
The visitors took seats and Luap ordered food and drinks to be brought. Pirate stared at Luap and realised that Luap was staring back at him. Luap approached Pirate.
“Where are you from?” he asked. “Who is your family?”
Luap found Pirate beautiful and Pirate realised this instantly.
“My name is Pirate and my origins are of no consequence.”
“May I confess I find myself attracted to you?”
“You may, and may I confess I share the same feelings for you?”
Immediately, Pirate thought about how he might capture Luap and take him away from Sgniwef.
“Would you like to come and see our ship?” Pirate asked.
“I would like that very much,” said Luap. “But first you must eat and drink. There is much to celebrate when we meet fellow refugees.”
They served the visitors food, the likes of which they had not tasted for many FSCs. They also served them drinks which Sevan did not recognise as either fushy or pish but were very agreeable and left him with the same pleasant sensation.
The hall became populated with what Sevan imagined must have been the leading figures in the settlement. They mingled with the visitors and asked them many questions about how they arrived on Sonvaenope and how they had escaped the Zoxans.
The visitors had similar questions of their own, and the hall was alive with conversation. Pirate monopolised Luap, asking him many questions about his life and making many boasts about his.
He suspected he was not happy with Sgniwef, but he could not draw him on the topic, nor would he make any comment related to the period surrounding the Zistreotovean war during which they supposedly kidnapped him and took him to Zistreotov. Pirate supposed the entire episode must have been too traumatic for him.
“From where do you come?” Luap asked Pirate.
“I am originally from Future,” he said. “But I spent most of my career on a planet called Chaldene in the Kale system.”
“I’ve never heard of it.”
“It’s a long way from here, near the edge of the universe. We were experimenting with the possibility of crossing the barrier of Witt into parallel universes. My friend over there is the very Witt who gave the barrier of Witt its name.”
Pirate gesticulated towards Witt, who appeared to be delivering a lecture on the science of white holes to a rapt audience.
“You are far more attractive than he is,” said Luap.
“That’s easy. Look at the shape of his head.”
“That’s not what I meant.”
“I know, I’m sorry. I was only joking. We were successful in crossing to a parallel universe, but we were trapped there and Witt had to come and rescue us. I was burned badly. Here you can see some of my scars.”
Luap marvelled at Pirate, whom he considered to be fiercely beautiful. He liked him, not just for his looks, but also because he seemed knowledgeable.
“They say the Zoxans came from another universe.”
“So I’ve heard.”
Pirate could sense Luap’s feelings for him, but it hardly mattered because Luap soon made matters clear.
“I like you very much Pirate,” he said. “Do you feel the same about me?”
Pirate admitted he did, and the two left the gathering unnoticed.
*
“You have much that would benefit our own community,” Witt told Sgniwef when she returned to the settlement. “And I dare say that we have much that would benefit you. I suggest we use the Mastery of the Stars to shuttle between the two communities to facilitate a trade between us. Assuming that Ay-ttho is agreeable to such a suggestion.”
“At least we would do something useful,” said Ay-ttho.
“I agree,” said Sgniwef. “Such a trade would be beneficial to both communities. Let us discuss your initial requirements and then we can load your ship with whatever we can spare of the things you desire.”
The gathering had soon agreed on a list and Sgniwef ordered that they deliver the required produce to the Mastery of the Stars.
Once they had loaded everything, they prepared to leave.
“I’m sorry that Luap is not here to bid you farewell,” said Sgniwef. “Something very important must have come up to detain him elsewhere because I know he has enjoyed your visit immensely and would certainly want to have said goodbye.”
“Until next time,” said Witt. “I have the list of produce you require and will do my utmost to return with the goods as soon as possible.”
A sizable crowd had gathered to wave goodbye to the freighter as it took off, and Sevan felt that perhaps this new life playing trade between the two settlements might not be so bad after all.
“Should we head to the star and fold?” asked Ay-tho.
“I think it might be better if we use the conventional portals,” said Witt. “I have been inspecting the mechanisms and I think it’s better if we don’t attempt to fold space until I’ve performed some maintenance.”
“What if the Zoxans are guarding the portals?” asked Tori.
“Ron?” asked Ay-tho. “Please do a scan and see whether there are any ships at the portal.”
“There are no ships on this side of the portal. However, my scanners cannot see through the portal, so there is a possibility that there might be ships on the other side.”
“We can’t risk it,” said Ay-ttho. “We have to fold space.”
“I can’t guarantee the mechanism will remain stable,” Witt warned. “If the field collapses, the ship will be destroyed. There may be Zoxans on the other side of the portal, but we stand a greater chance of survival with them than we do if the field collapses.”
“Very well,” Ay-ttho sighed. “Ron? Head for the Angetenar portal.”
As they emerged from the portal, the Zoxans were waiting for them. Ay-ttho thought about trying to outrun them, but she knew that wherever they ran, the Zoxans would be waiting.
Instead, she asked Ron to cut the engines and waited while the Zoxan ship drew alongside them.
Pirate, whom they hadn’t seen for most of the journey, arrived on the bridge.
“What’s happening?” he asked.
“Where have you been?” asked Witt. “And… what the uxclod?”
Behind Pirate, he noticed Luap.
“What’s he doing here?”
“He came along for the ride.”
“Have you lost your marbles?” asked Tori. “Have you been living under a rock? Do you not remember what Sgniwef did last time someone ran off with Luap?”
“What happened?”
“Have you heard of the Zistreotovean war?”
“Oh, that.”
“Oh that? They annihilated Zistreotov. It had been the most popular gambling venue in the Republic and they reduced it to rubble. What do you think she’s going to do when she discovers you’ve kidnapped Luap?”
“I didn’t kidnap him. He came of his own free will.”
“I don’t think Sgniwef will see it that way. She didn’t last time.”
“What are we going to do?” asked Sevan.
“We have to take him back,” said Tori.
“I think the Zoxans might have different ideas,” said Ay-ttho as the Zoxan ship locked onto the side of the Mastery of the Stars.
Sam Stokes has been one of my most loyal and helpful readers. She makes excellent suggestions during the beta reading stage and always eaves me honest reviews.In 2014, she was diagnosed with Thyroid cancer and underwent a total thyroid removal surgery.
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Matthews and Barnes sat in the Channeatune Room, the most expensive restaurant in the explored regions of the universe.
“I appreciate your desire to meet in neutral territory,” said Barnes. “But was it really necessary to reserve the entire restaurant?”
“Don’t worry,” said Matthews. “This one is on me.”
She took a sip of Spiced Eclipse Pish, the most expensive pish in the Republic.
“So, what’s new, Barnes?”
“You asked me here for a chat?”
“You keep your eye on things. I can do with the benefit of your intelligence.”
“What do you need?.”
“The whereabouts of a Hersean called Scotmax and a Corporation mining clone called Sevan.”
Barnes laughed.
“Now why would you be interested in a corporation mining clone?” he asked.
“This corporation mining clone is a rebel.”
“I can’t help you with your Hersean, but I know where your mining clone is. He also interests me.”
“Where is he?”
“Not so fast. This mining clone, in whom you are so interested, travels with an ex-corporation security clone and an ex-Republic military clone. They have become somewhat of a pet project of mine.”
“So, what do you propose?”
“A game, of sorts. I would like to see how resilient one of my mining clones really is. Let us play with him and see how strong he is.”
“I heard your mining clones are indestructible.”
“Oh no, they are destructible. We can easily kill them. I simply overcame the biological constraints so they don’t age, but we can easily kill them, either deliberately or accidentally.”
*
On the Planet of Pallene, Sevan sat in the bar where Ay-ttho and Tori had told them they would meet him, but Nadio entered alone and rushed up to him.
“What is it?” Sevan asked, seeing Nadio was too out of breath to speak.
“It’s Tori and Ay-ttho,” he said, once he had recovered himself enough. “They have taken them.”
“What? Who?”
“I don’t know. They could have been bounty hunters.”
“Where was this?”
“They were brawl boarding, and they were waiting for them on the beach. I escaped without being seen.”
“Let’s get back to the ship.”
Nadio followed Sevan to the Mastery of the Stars, but when they arrived where they had left the ship, it was not there.
“They must have taken it,” said Sevan, staring at the space where the ship used to be.
He realised they were alone on this strange planet and, apart from the small amount in his suit, he had no credits.
“Do you have any credits?” he asked Nadio.
“No.”
“Great.”
“What do we do?” Nadio was panicking.
“We need to get a job.”
“I can clean.”
Nadio hadn’t worked since he was a young thug when he had worked in the bar of the thug that was meant to be looking after him. Sevan hadn’t worked since he had been the Chief Council Member on The Doomed Planet, but he doubted there were any mining colonies on Pallene.
They wandered back to the bar where Sevan had been waiting.
“We need jobs and accommodation,” Sevan explained to the bar owner.
“Good luck with that.”
Sevan looked at the tall armoured, long-snouted, small-eared bar owner with his eight legs and claws, which he used to hold and wipe several glasses simultaneously.
“He used to work in a bar,” Sevan said, pointing to Nadio.
“And what did you do?”
“I worked in a mining colony.”
“Used to heavy lifting, eh?”
“Erm,” Sevan thought it might be best not to mention that he worked on the administration side of the concession.
“There are some barrels out the back that need taking down to the cellar. You can start with those,” the bar owner turned his attention to Nadio. “You can start cleaning.”
The barrels were too heavy for Sevan, so Nadio had to help him. In return, Sevan helped Nadio with the cleaning, though Nadio had to supervise a lot as Sevan was fairly unknowledgeable about the art of cleaning.
When the bar closed, the owner gave them a bowl each filled with some not quite dead marine creature and a mug of cloudy liquid which Sevan knew they made from Ocrex ink.
He did his best to eat and drink it all and had to defend it from Nadio, who had wolfed his down and was looking for leftovers. Sevan wondered why, of all the planets, he could have been marooned on, why had the gods chosen one where there was no pish or fushy to drink and the food was not quite dead.
‘Nevermarble,’ he thought. ‘I just have to make the most of it.’
*
“Has our experiment on Pallene begun well?” Matthews asked Barnes via a tachyon transmission.
“We have removed all his colleagues but one, but he seems far from being crushed.”
“Then we must increase the pressure until he breaks.”
“Agreed. I will implement the next phase of the plan.”
*
Sevan and Nadio slept on the floor of the bar.
“What in the worst place happened to you?” said the bar owner when he came to wake them.
“What do you mean?” asked Sevan, itching himself.
“In the name of Vyysus, God Of Magic!” Nadio exclaimed, moving away from Sevan.
“What?” Sevan looked at his arms and saw that it was covered so completely in yellow boils he could not see his turquoise skin.
“It’s Scophumen Pernilica,” said the owner.
“What’s that?”
“It’s normally caused by gendrid or iq’oik bites. I’ll get you a healing staff.”
“Why hasn’t he got it?” Sevan asked, pointing to Nadio.
“They don’t like thugs. Here you go.”
“What’s that?”
“A healing staff,” said the owner, handing Sevan what looked like a broken piece of pot.
“It looks like a broken piece of pot.”
“Your broken piece of pot is someone else’s healing staff. Do you want it or not?”
“What am I supposed to do?”
“Burst every scophumen, otherwise they will swell until you explode.”
“Every one?”
“Every one. And go out the back to do it. I don’t want my floor covered in scophumen puss.”
Sevan went out the back and began piercing the scophumen boils. Each one exploded spectacularly, sending green puss showering everywhere. As the boils he burst became smaller, the effect of their bursting became relatively less spectacular and he relied on Nadio to help him locate ones in difficult to reach areas.
However, no sooner had he thought he had lanced the last boil than more emerged and it was like the old fable of having to paint the Gaia Station, it was so huge that, no sooner had they finished painting than they had to start again.
“Why didn’t they make it out of something they didn’t need to paint?” Sevan mused.
“What?” asked Nadio.
“The Gaia Station.”
“What’s the Gaia Station?”
“It’s a huge space station, the biggest. I wouldn’t be surprised if it was bigger than the Tomorrow space station.”
“What about it?”
“Why didn’t they make it out of something that didn’t need painting?”
“Why would they?”
“Do you not know the story? They take so long to paint it that, by the time they finish, they have to start again.”
“At least it gives someone a job.”
“I suppose so.”
Nadio thought about it for a moment.
“Of course, if they used more painters, they would paint it quicker and then they could all have a holirotation.”
“You are a genius,” Sevan said as sarcastically as possible.
Working together, they kept the boils more or less under control, but by this time they were both covered with, and sat in a puddle of, putrid scophumen boil puss.
“Get this cleaned up,” the bar owner said when he saw the mess. “Then there’re more barrels to shift. Then you need to clean the inside of the bar.”
Nadio helped to shift the barrels and, as they worked, new boils would grow and burst whenever they were pressed against a barrel or any other surface.
When they had finished moving the barrels, they had to clean the scophumen boil puss off various surfaces, then Nadio cleaned the bar. He didn’t want Sevan spreading his puss around, as that would have meant having to clean the bar twice.
When the bar had closed, the owner gave them the same food and drink as the previous night and then told them they could sleep on the floor.
“But won’t I get more bites?” asked Sevan.
“It doesn’t matter. Once you’ve got scophumen pernilica, you’re immune. On second thoughts, sleep out the back. I don’t want puss on my floor.”
Sevan lay down in the dirt outside, which seemed to soothe his sores. Nadio, in a sign of solidarity, followed Sevan outside and lay in the dirt next to him.
“Don’t you ever feel like giving up?” Nadio asked.
“Why?” said Sevan. “I can’t do anything about any of this, so why worry?”
“Do you never feel like it’s all too much?”
“I always feel like it’s all too much. It’s a sensation I’ve become accustomed to living with from moment to moment. Why did Barnes create us so that we never get old?”
“You can’t die?”
“I can die if someone kills me or I have a fatal accident or a disease. But one thing is sure, I won’t die of old age. He removed the ageing process from our genetic makeup.”
“Wow, that’s cool,” it impressed Nadio.
“Why? What’s wrong with growing old?”
They lay in the dirt and stared up into the night sky.
“What’s that bright star there?” Nadio asked.
“No idea,” said Sevan. “Maybe it’s not a star. Maybe it’s a satellite or a space station.”
“Or a comet?”
“Or a comet, heading straight for us so we can’t see its tail.”
During the night Sevan’s boils grew and in the morning Nadio helped him burst them with the usual resultant explosions of putrid puss juice.
However, one boil on Sevan’s back proved stubborn and would not burst.
“What do you think?” he asked the bar owner when he arrived to complain about the mess.
“Have you been using the healing staff?”
“If you mean the broken piece of pot, then yes.”
“Well, if the healing staff won’t burst it, then it must be a scophumen stubornus.”
“What is one of those when it’s at home?”
“A scophumen that won’t burst.”
“What happens if it doesn’t burst?”
“It just gets bigger until your whole body explodes.”
“I’d rather avoid that. Is there nothing I can do apart from poking it with a broken piece of pot?”
“There is a healer who lives outside the settlement, but it will take you all day to get there, and I’m not paying you if you don’t work this rotation.”
“You don’t pay us, anyway.”
“Well, don’t come rushing back expecting food and drink and a nice floor to sleep on. Actually, judging by the size of that scophumen, you’ll be lucky to make it to the healer. It’ll probably explode before you get there.”
“Would you at least tell us which direction?”
The owner extended a claw and Sevan and Nadio headed off in the general direction.
Today, I was almost run over on a zebra crossing by a woman driving an unnecessary large SUV.
What I assume was her husband in the passenger seat called me a ‘caralho’ which according to Google translate is Portuguese for a ‘fuck’.
Apparently, he was upset that I had delayed the progress of their obscenely inappropriate vehicle by having the temerity to use a pedestrian crossing.
Unfortunately, this is the common view amongst the rich who have always viewed us as an inconvenience. Unfortunately, they would not get their expensive meals brought to their tables or their children taken care of all day without us so they have to put up with us.
What I find so incredible is that we put up with them. We by far outnumber them, and yet we continue to elect people who make our lives worse. This just goes to show how incredibly stupid we are.
At the moment, the fossil fuel industries are making record profits while we are being told that we have to endure a cost of living crisis. Had Jeremy Corbyn been allowed to renationalise the energy and other utility industries then not only would the massive profits these companies are making have been passed onto consumers as discounts on their bills but also the water companies wouldn’t be getting away with pimping raw sewage into our seas.
Not only that, but the railways would have been renationalised, meaning we might have had a decent service. So many rail services are being canceled because the train companies cannot recruit enough drivers. Why? Because the government has put a stop to the free movement of labour from the continent and is blocking an improvement in pay and conditions that might attract a domestic workforce.
Meanwhile, they are spouting about trade deals with New Zealand and Australia whose food miles will do about as much for our non-existent climate promises as their unnecessary SUVs.
Meanwhile, we, the underpaid, underappreciated plebians, are expected to pay for the coronation of a man who didn’t have the courage to stand up to his own parents and marry the person he loved. His great uncle might have been a nazi sympathiser, but at least he had the balls to marry the woman he loved. Instead, Charles decided to cheat on his wife who cheated on him, and we all know how that ended.
Is this who we want as our head of state? Someone who cannot stand up for their principles?
Meanwhile, the government made up of super rich ministers is busy trying to remove the right of young people to vote, removing our right to protestant concentrating immigrants in army camps.
Last year marked one hundred years since the creation of the British Broadcasting Company (BBC). It was established under a royal charter which lasts for a period of ten years, after which it needs to be renewed. The current charter is due for renewal in 2027 and there are those who want to see the current model changed.
Britain’s first live public broadcast was made from the factory of Marconi’s Wireless Telegraph Company in Chelmsford in June 1920. It was sponsored by the Daily Mail’s Lord Northcliffe and featured the famous Australian soprano Dame Nellie Melba. The Melba broadcast caught the people’s imagination and marked a turning point in the British public’s attitude to radio. However, this public enthusiasm was not shared in official circles where such broadcasts were held to interfere with important military and civil communications. By late 1920, pressure from these quarters and uneasiness among the staff of the licensing authority, the General Post Office (GPO), was sufficient to lead to a ban on further Chelmsford broadcasts.
But by 1922, the GPO had received nearly 100 broadcast licence requests and moved to rescind its ban in the wake of a petition by 63 wireless societies with over 3,000 members. Anxious to avoid the same chaotic expansion experienced in the United States, the GPO proposed that it would issue a single broadcasting licence to a company jointly owned by a consortium of leading wireless receiver manufacturers, to be known as the British Broadcasting Company Ltd. In December 1922 the company made its first official broadcast.
John Reith, a Scottish Calvinist, was appointed its general manager, the company was to be financed by a royalty on the sale of BBC wireless receiving sets from approved domestic manufacturers and to this day, the BBC aims to follow the Reithian directive to “inform, educate and entertain“
The BBC has played a prominent role in British life and culture. It was widely known colloquially as the Beeb, Auntie, or a combination of both (Auntie Beeb). It is the world’s oldest national broadcaster, and the largest broadcaster in the world by number of employees, employing over 22,000 staff in total, of whom approximately 19,000 are in public-sector broadcasting.
The work of the BBC is funded principally by an annual television licence fee which is charged to all British households, companies, and organisations using any type of equipment to receive or record live television broadcasts and iPlayer catch-up The fee is set by the British Government, agreed by Parliament, and is used to fund the BBC’s radio, TV, and online services covering the nations and regions of the UK. Since 1 April 2014, it has also funded the BBC World Service (launched in 1932 as the BBC Empire Service), which broadcasts in 28 languages and provides comprehensive TV, radio, and online services in Arabic and Persian.
Around a quarter of the BBC’s revenue comes from its commercial subsidiary BBC Studios (formerly BBC Worldwide), which sells BBC programmes and services internationally and also distributes the BBC’s international 24-hour English-language news services BBC World News, and from BBC.com, provided by BBC Global News Ltd.
The BBC, according to the Guardian newspaper, has “taken artistic risks to create brilliant, radical and innovative work that would be in the interests of no profit-driven private company”.
The licence fee allows the broadcaster to “remain independent and distanced from government initiatives, campaigners, charities and their agendas, no matter how apparently worthy the cause or how much their message appears to be accepted or uncontroversial”, BBC guidelines state.
The BBC is a vital tool in ensuring that everyone in the UK is granted access to fair, unbiased news.
However, critics have argued that forcing people to pay for a service they either don’t use very often or do not agree with politically is unfair.
In 2018, then Labour leader Jeremy Corbyn floated the idea of allowing BBC licence-fee payers to elect board members of the national broadcaster, PoliticsHome reported. Currently, they are appointed from within.
“One proposal would simultaneously reduce government political influence on the BBC while empowering its workforce and licence fee payers,” he said. “That would see some elections of places to the BBC Board, for example of executive directors by staff and non-executive directors by licence fee payers.”
However, what actually happened was that Boris Johnson appointed Conservative party donor Richard Sharp just after he had arranged a loan for the then Prime Minister. He used to be the boss of the current UK Prime Minister, Rishi Sunak at Goldman Sachs.
The chairman is in charge of upholding and protecting the BBC’s independence and ensuring the BBC fulfils its mission to inform, educate and entertain, among other things. As he is appointed by the government, Mr Sharp can only be sacked by the secretary of state or resign, he cannot be axed by the BBC.
Commenting on the UK Government’s Illegal Migration Bill, BBC sports presenter Gary Lineker called it an “immeasurably cruel policy directed at the most vulnerable people in language that is not dissimilar to that used by Germany in the 30s”.
Lineker has said he will not apologise for the tweet, which compared the language used around migration to that in 1930s Germany. His suspension from Match of the Day meant the corporation was forced to abandon most of the weekend’s football coverage and to air drastically shortened versions of the highlights show two days running, after pundits refused to appear on air.
My book Hatred uses the diaries of Victor klemperer combined with current rhetoric and I defy anyone to identify which quotes are from the 1930s and which are current.
The Conservative government in the UK has been trying to flood the BBC with its own supporters to avoid criticism but also because I believe the government wishes to sabotage the renewal of the BBC charter in 2027. This is exactly what the right Wong government does in Hatred.
The suspension of Gary Linekar was a blatant attempt at the repression of freedom of speech and I am encouraged by the way in which other BBC employees supported Linekar against this blatant attempt to stifle criticism.
Sevan’s marbles were still sore when he was awoken by the ship’s alarm. He dragged himself out of his bunk and up to the bridge where he could see Sonvaenope large in the observation windows and it was clear someone on the surface was shooting at them.
“What’s happening?” he asked.
“We are being shot at,” said Ay-ttho
“No uxlod, Moncur,” said Sevan, referring to the famous detective of the entertainment implant series of the old Republic, who was famous for solving every case. “Have they done much damage?”
“None,” said Tori. “Their weapon isn’t powerful. Ron is transmitting ‘we come in peace’ messages.”
“As long as we don’t come in pieces,” Sevan joked, but nobody laughed.
“This is the same location we left the colony of Angetenarians all that time ago,” Tori observed.
Sevan thought that would save money in set building if they ever made the story of their lives into a series for an entertainment implant.
Ron landed the ship on the outskirts and, even before the engines had shut down, a large crowd had gathered.
“Oh, my Giant Cup!” Ay-ttho exclaimed as she watched the crowd part to let through an individual, clearly of some importance.
“What is it?” asked Sevan.
“Sgniwef!”
“Sgniwef of Ao-Jun?” asked Tori. “But surely that’s impossible. We have been in suspended animation for ages. She must be dead by now.”
“The Ao-jun live long lives,” Ay-ttho explained. “That is Sgniwef. I would bet Sevan’s marbles on it.”
“Not the Sgniwef of the Zistreotovean war?” asked Pirate.
“The same.”
“I wonder if she is still with Luap?”
Ay-ttho descended from the ship and approached Sgniwef, whom she considered having not aged considerably.
Sevan thought the entertainment implant series of their lives was looking very viable if they could re-use characters.
“It has been a very long time, Sgniwef. I think the last time I saw you, Matthews was president,” said Ay-ttho
“Who is it that claims to know me from such times past?” Sgniwef asked.
“My name is Ay-ttho San An Wan. This is Tori, Sevan, Pirate and Witt. And this is our ship, the Mastery of the Stars.”
“Sevan? Didn’t he help Matthews kill Kirkland?”
“I didn’t help so much as tagged along.”
“You should also remember Matthews exiled us, and we fought against her.”
“Yes, I recollect something of that sort. What brings you here to Sonvaenope?”
“We detected your signal from Angetenar. You should be careful because if we can detect you, the khalgoin might also and your gun will be no match against them.”
“First, who are these khalgoin of whom you speak? And second, what you experienced were only warning shots. Our true arsenal is much more powerful.”
“Glad to hear it. I’m sorry, I believe you call the khalgoin, zoxans.”
“Oh yes, the zoxans. We have successfully hidden from the zoxans for many FSCs, but we have heard of new dangers of zoxans helping one tribe of old Republicans against another. The Ao-jun are now nomadic, like nearly all non-zoxans who are not enslaved. How do we know you are not in league with the zoxans?”
“I ask to trust us and take my word for it.”
“That is easier said than done. However, the Ao-jun are hospitable. Therefore, I invite you to stay with us at our settlement for as long as you need and trust that you do not bring the zoxan forces with you.”
“We are very grateful for your trust and promise that we will not betray it. There is one thing I don’t understand. Our scanners showed a tiny settlement, but your settlement is large.”
“We have been using radiation masking to hide us. You shouldn’t have been able to detect us at all. We must be vulnerable to the zoxans.”
“I don’t think so. The scanners on the Mastery of the Stars are very good, far advanced than anything the zoxans have, I would imagine.”
“Let’s hope you are right.”
Sgniwef led them into the settlement and into a large hall which looked like they must use it as a meeting place.
“This is Luap, my partner.” said Sgniwef, gesturing to where Luap was sitting.
“So that is Luap,” Witt whispered. “I thought the face that launched a thousand ships would have been nicer.”
“Oh, I don’t know,” whispered Pirate. “I think time has been very kind to her.”
“Luap will throw a party in your honour,” said Sgniwef. “You must forgive me. I have business I must attend to and must leave, but I will return. In the meantime, I will leave you in the capable claws of my partner.”
“Lucky us,” Pirate whispered.
Sgniwef left the hall and left the visitors wondering what to do next.
“You must forgive my partner,” said Luap. “He is always very busy. Please take a seat.”
The visitors took seats and Luap ordered food and drinks to be brought. Pirate stared at Luap and realised that Luap was staring back at him. Luap approached Pirate.
“Where are you from?” he asked. “Who is your family?”
Luap found Pirate beautiful and Pirate realised this instantly.
“My name is Pirate and my origins are of no consequence.”
“May I confess I find myself attracted to you?”
“You may, and may I confess I share the same feelings for you?”
Immediately, Pirate thought about how he might capture Luap and take him away from Sgniwef.
“Would you like to come and see our ship?” Pirate asked.
“I would like that very much,” said Luap. “But first you must eat and drink. There is much to celebrate when we meet fellow refugees.”
They served the visitors food, the likes of which they had not tasted for many FSCs. They also served them drinks which Sevan did not recognise as either fushy or pish but were very agreeable and left him with the same pleasant sensation.
The hall became populated with what Sevan imagined must have been the leading figures in the settlement. They mingled with the visitors and asked them many questions about how they arrived on Sonvaenope and how they had escaped the zoxans.
The visitors had similar questions of their own, and the hall was alive with conversation. Pirate monopolized Luap, asking her many questions about her life and making many boasts about his.
He suspected she was not happy with Sgniwef, but he could not draw her on the topic, nor would she make any comment related to the period surrounding the Zistreotovean war during which they supposedly kidnapped her and took her to Zistreotov. Pirate supposed the entire episode must have been too traumatic for her.
“From where do you come?” Luap asked Pirate.
“I am originally from Future,” he said. “But I spent most of my career on a planet called Chaldene in the Kale system.”
“I’ve never heard of it.”
“It’s a long way from here, near the edge of the universe. We were experimenting with the possibility of crossing the barrier of Witt into parallel universes. My friend over there is the very Witt who gave the barrier of Witt its name.”
Pirate gesticulated towards Witt, who appeared to be delivering a lecture on the science of white holes to a rapt audience.
“You are far more attractive than he is,” said Luap.
“That’s easy. Look at the shape of his head.”
“That’s not what I meant.”
“I know, I’m sorry. I was only joking. We were successful in crossing to a parallel universe, but we were trapped there and Witt had to come and rescue us. I was burned badly. Here you can see some of my scars.”
Luap marveled at Pirate, whom he considered to be fiercely beautiful. He liked him, not just for his looks, but also because he seemed knowledgeable.
“They say the zoxans came from another universe.”
“So I’ve heard.”
Pirate could sense Luap’s feelings for him, but it hardly mattered because Luap soon made matters clear.
“I like you very much Pirate,” he said. “Do you feel the same about me?”
Pirate admitted he did, and the two left the gathering unnoticed.
*
“You have much that would benefit our own community,” Witt told Sgniwef when she returned to the settlement. “And I dare say that we have much that would benefit you. I suggest we use the Mastery of the Stars to shuttle between the two communities to facilitate a trade between us, assuming that Ay-ttho is agreeable to such a suggestion.”
“At least we would do something useful,” said Ay-ttho.
“I agree,” said Sgniwef. “Such a trade would be beneficial to both communities. Let us discuss your initial requirements and then we can load your ship with whatever we can spare of the things you desire.”
The gathering had soon agreed on a list and Sgniwef ordered that they deliver the required produce to the Mastery of the Stars.
Once they had loaded everything, they prepared to leave.
“I’m sorry that Luap is not here to bid you farewell,” said Sgniwef. “Something very important must have come up to detain him elsewhere because I know he has enjoyed your visit immensely and would certainly want to have said goodbye.”
“Until next time,” said Witt. “I have the list of produce you require and will do my utmost to return with the goods as soon as possible.”
A sizable crowd had gathered to wave goodbye to the freighter as it took off, and Sevan felt that perhaps this new life playing trade between the two settlements might not be so bad after all.
“Should we head to the star and fold?” asked Ay-tho.
“I think it might be better if we use the conventional portals,” said Witt. “I have been inspecting the mechanisms and I think it’s better if we don’t attempt to fold space until I’ve had a chance to perform some maintenance.”
“What if the khalgoin are guarding the portals?” asked Tori.
“Ron?” asked Ay-tho. “Please do a scan and see whether there are any ships at the portal.”
“There are no ships on this side of the portal. However, my scanners cannot see through the portal, so there is a possibility that there might be ships on the other side.”
“We can’t risk it,” said Ay-ttho. “We have to fold space.”
“I can’t guarantee the mechanism will remain stable,” Witt warned. “If the field collapses, the ship will be destroyed. There may be khalgoin on the other side of the portal, but we stand a greater chance of survival with them than we do if the field collapses.”
“Very well,” Ay-ttho sighed. “Ron? Head for the Angetenar portal.”
As they emerged from the portal, the khalgoin were waiting for them. Ay-ttho toyed with the idea of trying to outrun them, but she knew that wherever they ran, the khalgoin would be waiting.
Instead, she asked Ron to cut the engines and waited while the Khalgoin ship drew alongside them.
Pirate, whom they hadn’t seen for most of the journey, arrived on the bridge.
“What’s happening?” he asked.
“Where have you been?” asked Witt. “And… what the uxclod?”
Behind Pirate, he noticed Luap.
“What’s he doing here?”
“He came along for the ride.”
“Have you lost your marbles?” asked Tori. “Have you been living under a rock? Do you not remember what Sgniwef did last time someone ran off with Luap?”
“What happened?”
“Have you heard of the Zistreotovean war?”
“Oh, that.”
“Oh that? They annihilated Zistreotov. It had been the most popular gambling venue in the Republic and they reduced it to rubble. What do you think she’s going to do when she discovers you’ve kidnapped Luap?”
“I didn’t kidnap him. He came of his own free will.”
“I don’t think Sgniwef will see it that way. She didn’t last time.”
“What are we going to do?” asked Sevan.
“We have to take him back,” said Tori.
“I think the khalgoin might have different ideas,” said Ay-ttho as the khalgoin ship locked onto the side of the Mastery of the Stars
Sevan opened his eyes. He didn’t know how long he had slept for. At first, he wasn’t really sure where he was, but he soon realised he was in the crew quarters of the Republic scout vessel that Ay-ttho had stolen on the Doomed Planet.
He wondered how far they had travelled and how much further they had to go before they arrived on Kale. According to the experts on the citadel, Kale was the nearest system to wherever the president’s great space folding experiment had deposited them.
At least they had some idea of where they were in space, even if they weren’t sure where they were in time. Although, of course, even Sevan knew that if they were at a different point in time, then Kale probably wouldn’t be where they expected it to be.
He felt he should probably see how everyone was, especially his aunt, who would have a complaint or two. When he emerged from his room, he found Ay-ttho, Tori, and his aunt laughing and joking in the common room. The joviality ceased as soon as they saw Sevan.
“Are you okay?” asked Tori. “You’ve been asleep for a long time.”
“What about Kale?” Sevan asked.
“What about it?”
“Are we getting closer?”
“Oh, we’re definitely getting closer,” said Ay-ttho.
“Any idea when we will arrive?”
“Your guess is as good as ours. We’ve turned on the proximity sensor alarms, so we should get a warning when we are approaching the system.”
“What are we going to do on Kale?”
Ay-ttho considered the question beneath her, so Tori answered.
“We are going to confirm exactly when and where we are and see whether there is any way to get back to our own place and time.”
As if on cue, the proximity alarm sounded.
“There you are,” said Ay-ttho. “We are approaching Kale now. According to these charts, the only habitable planet in the Kale system is Chaldene.”
“I thought they always named systems after their habitable planets,” said Sevan.
“Usually, but not always,” said Tori. “In this case, Kale is the star and Chaldene is the planet.”
“How long will it take us to get to Chaldene?”
“Not long.”
“Are you in a hurry?” asked Ay-ttho. “Is there somewhere you need to be?”
“No but…”
Sevan bit his tongues but couldn’t suppress his curiosity for long.
“What is on Chaldene?”
“We are about to find out,” said Ay-ttho.
“I already have it within scanner range,” said Tori. “There doesn’t appear to be any sign of life. We may have had a wasted journey.”
Sevan’s hearts sank. He was going to be trapped in deep space with his aunt forever.
“No, wait. There is something there. Very feint. Must be a tiny community, perhaps even just one individual.”
“What can one individual do?” Sevan complained
“You never know,” said Ay-ttho. “It might be God.”
“I thought you said the giant cup doesn’t exist?”
“It doesn’t. I never said God doesn’t exist though.”
“Does it?”
“I don’t know. Let’s find out.”
Ay-ttho steered the vessel towards the signal on Chaldene and they waited with expectation.
What they found was a relatively large complex, with hangars and buildings which had all manner of technology attached to the roofs.
They landed at the entrance to one of the hangars and waited for Tori to finish scanning the site for signs of life.
“The signal is coming from that building over there,” he said, pointing to the largest block. “Looks like it’s only one individual.”
“Let’s go out and have a look,” said Ay-ttho, double checking the atmosphere was not harmful.
They descended from the vessel and began walking towards the building. They were about halfway between the two when a shot ricocheted off the ground beside them.
“Don’t come any further,” someone shouted from one of the windows. “The Republic has no business here. Get back on your ship and leave.”
“We are not Republic troops,” Ay-ttho shouted back.
“You look like you are Republic troops.”
“He used to be a Republic security clone, I’ll give you that. But we are corporation clones, I stole this ship on The Doomed Planet.”
“Uxclod! A Republic scouting vessel does not have the range to travel that far. You must have a battle cruiser nearby.”
“We came from the citadel.”
“More uxclod! The citadel is in orbit around Future, again much too far for a Republic scouting vessel.”
“The Republic has discovered how to fold space. They deposited the citadel relatively close to here.”
There was a long silence.
“What do you think he’s doing?” Sevan asked after a while.
“I think he’s thinking,” said Tori
“What are you doing?” Ay-ttho shouted.
“I’m thinking.”
“What are you thinking about?”
“The Republic does not have the technology to fold space.”
“It does now.”
There followed another long silence.
“What do you want?” the individual asked at last.
“We want to find out how to get back to the Republic. We are not even sure what time this is.”
“So you are from the Republic.”
“Yes, we are from the Republic, but we are not from the Republic, if you know what I mean.”
Another long pause.
“You may proceed, but leave any weapons you have on the ground beside you first.”
Tori and Ay-ttho removed their hand held weapons and placed them on the ground. Sevan did not carry a weapon. He was always worried it might go off accidentally.
“What about your weapon?”
“I don’t carry one,” Sevan explained. “I’m always worried it might go off accidentally.”
“Very well. You may proceed.”
They trudged towards the building and when they reached the entrance, they saw a figure in the entrance, pointing a weapon at them. He had a bulbous head, a long beard, and wore a long cloak.
“What do you want?” he asked.
“We already told you,” said Ay-ttho. “We are here because the Republic folded the space around us against our will. We want to get back to our own place and time. What time is this?”
“It’s now.”
“But it is always now.”
“Exactly.”
Ay-ttho sighed. This wasn’t how she had hoped the exchange would develop.
“You had better come in.”
They climbed the steps to a large reception hall.
“Who are you?” Tori asked.
Some call me the Hermit of Chaldene, others that knew me a long time ago called me Witt. You may call me what you wish. It doesn’t really matter. Follow me.”
Witt led them through the vast entrance hall to a side room littered with equipment in various states of disrepair. In the middle sat an assortment of chairs. Witt invited them to sit down.
“What is this place?” Ay-ttho asked.
“It’s an old corporation research station. I and my team were researching the multiverse but after the incident they closed the station.”
“The incident?”
“I lost the rest of my team while conducting an experiment at the edge of the universe.”
“So, the universe has an edge?”
“Of course it does.”
“So we could have fallen off the edge of the universe?” asked Sevan.
“Don’t be silly. The universe is expanding at speeds way faster than the potential of that little scouting vessel of yours. You would need an anti-matter drive in something the size of a freighter to catch the edge of the universe.”
Tori, Ay-ttho and Sevan all glanced at each other.
“Doesn’t the Mastery of the Stars have an anti-matter drive?” said Sevan.
Tori and Ay-ttho gave him a hard stare.
“You have an anti-matter drive?” asked Witt with sudden excitement.
“We had,” Ay-ttho corrected. “That is why we are trying to get back to the Republic. To find it.”
“Well, why didn’t you say that in the first place?”
“You can help us get back?”
“Of course I can. Folding space is easy. All you need is an enormous source of energy and we have an enormous source of energy right there.”
He pointed outside, at the star of Kale, which was sending beams of dusty light through the dirty windows.
“We’ll need to make some modifications to that vessel of yours, but it shouldn’t be too difficult.”
Witt rested back in his chair.
“I will do it on one condition.”
“What’s that?” asked Ay-ttho.
“That after you find your ship, we use it to recover my colleagues.”
“Where are your colleagues?”
“That’s not important.”
“It might be.”
“It’s not.”
Ay-ttho thought about it for a moment. She looked at Tori, who shrugged. Then she looked at Sevan, who was looking at her in expectation.
“Okay, we’ll do it,” she said.
“Excellent,” said Witt, who leapt to his feet. “We must start straight away. Come with me I’ll…”
Witt could not finish his sentence because of an ear-splitting shrieking noise which was being emitted from a control panel in the room’s corner. Witt took a small device from his pocket and pressed a button. The shrieking stopped with a beep.
“What in the worst place was that?” Ay-ttho asked.
“It was the perimeter alarm. Is there someone else on your ship?”
“Aunty!” Sevan exclaimed.
Witt was already halfway to the door with his weapon in hand.
“She’s harmless,” Sevan shouted after him.
By the time Sevan, Tori and Ay-ttho reached the hallway, Witt was already coming back inside.
“I thought you said she was harmless,” he complained.
Not far behind him was the diminutive figure of Sevan’s aunt, who was marching towards them. She was clearly annoyed and Sevan braced himself for the impending onslaught.
“What are you doing abandoning me?” she launched into a tirade. “What if I had been eaten by tronqaks? You have no sense of responsibility. That’s your trouble.”
“I don’t think there are troqaks here,” Sevan tried to defend himself. “There aren’t, are there?”
“There are actually,” said Witt. “They brought them here to hunt the cukids which were out of control. They brought the cukids here as a food source for the staff on the base but, with no natural predator, they ran amok.”
“Good to see you, Sevan’s aunt,” said Ay-ttho, who still hadn’t bothered to learn her name. “You were resting, so we thought it best not to wake you from your beauty sleep.”
“Is that meant to be funny?” she snapped. “What are we doing here, anyway?”
“This is Witt. He is going to help us get back to the Republic.”
“Why would we want to do that? You should see the mess they made on The Doomed Planet.”
“I did. I was there, remember? Witt is going to help us get our ship back, the Mastery of the Stars. You will like it, it’s much more comfortable than the scouting vessel.”
“That’s not difficult.”
“So, what do we have to do?” Ay-ttho asked Witt.
“First, we have to equip your ship with extra heat shields.”
“Heat shields? Why? We didn’t detect much heat on any of the occasions we’ve witnessed folding space.”
“How many have you witnessed?”
“There was the time that Barnes destroyed Atlas, then the Republic experimented on us and then the citadel was transported here, so, three. But on none of those occasions, did we need extra heat shields?”
“You will now.”
“Why?”
“You see that star?”
“Yes?”
“You’re going to fly into it.”If you are not ready to leave The Hermit of Chaldene, you can get the full book here.
M J Dees 