Born in 1934 Eric Hutchinson saw war from the victims side, watching the charred bodies of his

school friends pulled from the ruins of their homes. He served with the Air Sea Rescue service and later became an honours Graduate from Hull University. He now lives on his sailing barge home with his wife, Fionna, and Arwen, their Alsatian dog.

GAIAS CHILDREN

DEDICATIONS
To my Mother, Sarah Jane Hutchinson (nee) Zanelli, for teaching me to think and question rather than just blindly accept what I was told. To my Father, Frank Hutchinson, for showing me the difference between Intellect and Wisdom. To my uncle Harry Johnson, a philosopher of rare genius who, to the misfortune of humanity, was born into the wrong strata of society and so his brilliance remained unrecognised and his wisdom was lost. He taught me to view the world in the clear light of knowledge and not in the dark bigotry of belief. Last but not least to my wife who spent many hours wrestling with my eccentric spelling and random punctuation. If I may adapt one of Eric Morecambes classic comments Im using all the right punctuation but not necessarily in the right places. Any remaining errors are mine alone. Ive always thought that it was pretty daft to try to fit the English language into Latin grammar anyway. The square peg had it easy by comparison.

Eric Hutchinson

GAIAS CHILDREN

Copyright Eric Hutchinson The right of Eric Hutchinson to be identified as author of this work has been asserted by him in accordance with section 77 and 78 of the Copyright, Designs and Patents Act 1988. All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, or otherwise, without the prior permission of the publishers. Any person who commits any unauthorized act in relation to this publication may be liable to criminal prosecution and civil claims for damages. A CIP catalogue record for this title is available from the British Library.

ISBN 9781849631976 www.austinmacauley.com First Published (2013) Austin & Macauley Publishers Ltd. 25 Canada Square Canary Wharf London E14 5LB

Printed and Bound in Great Britain

BOOK ONE

INTERVIEW WITH AN ALIEN

PROLOGUE

Democracy was dead, if it had ever existed except as an illusion to convince the ordinary people that they actually had some say in the running of their country. The dictionary definition said it all. Government by the people or their elected representatives. Control of any organisation by its members. A political or social unit governed by all its members. The practice or spirit of social equality. A social condition of classlessness and equality. A cynical joke in the worst possible taste, the elderly went hungry while the rulers lived in luxury at their expense. The young growing up and, seeing a barren future without hope, turning to crime. The families struggling to survive as prices rose and currency devalued. Meanwhile the wealthy bankers and investment brokers gambled with the money entrusted to them secure in the knowledge that if they won, they pocketed the profits and if they lost, they simply increased the interest rates to the borrowers to recoup the losses or, If this failed, then they went to the government who bailed them out and increased taxation to pay for it. It was a no lose system as far as the wealthy were concerned and a no win for the ordinary people. The rumblings of discontent started to make themselves heard, the elected representatives took upon themselves the mantle of kings, they no longer paid even lip service to the idea of serving the public. Greed, selfishness and corruption were the order of the day. Faced with the possibility of civil unrest they resorted to force. The police were given sweeping powers to control the people. Riot police and Swat squads used brutal methods to quell any protests. More restrictive laws, heavier sentences, more prisons, the screw was tightened and the pressure built up. A few concerned politicians, seeing the coming disaster, tried to instil some sense into those in power but were hopelessly outnumbered and were ignored. The scene was set for bloody revolution French style. The gunpowder barrels were stacked, the fuse attached, the camel was starting to sag, the final straw was being carefully laid, it just needed one spark. In a thatched cottage set in a lovingly tended garden a young couple, Tom and Samantha Peniston, lived their lives blissfully unaware that they were to be that spark.

So, you are an alien, grinned Tom. Yes, said the figure at the bar. Toms grin widened, Where are you from? In your language it is called Home, came the reply. Home? said Tom, Thats not a place, dont you live on a planet like this one? Yes. Then what is it called? Home, came the reply again. What, the whole planet? Yes. But what country, what town? said Tom exasperated at this. We have no countries or towns, said the alien. But what about your manufacturing industries, your factories, how do people get to work? We have no factories and if people work they do so at their dwelling place. I dont believe this, said Tom, who makes your cars and trucks and cranes and washing machines, televisions and so on? We have none of these, nor any need of them. At this Tom blew up, Then what do you do with your time, contemplate your navel? he asked. We study, replied the alien. Study what? said Tom. Ourselves, in order to make progress. You study yourselves, said Tom quizzically, in order to make progress in what? Understanding. Tom sighed, Understanding what? he asked. Ourselves of course. Tom looked at him patiently. And as a result of the time spent on all this studying, you have no industries, no transport, no towns, no manufacturing base, no technology, no wealth, nothing. Oh yes we have made great progress, the figure smiled back at Tom. What kind of progress? Tom asked, Becoming one with the infinite and all that sort of thing? The alien smiled again, Something like that, yes. Tom laughed, And what use is that? Well it enabled me to visit your world, that must be useful. Tom regarded him for a moment then, I dont believe any of this, you are just winding me up, you are no more an alien than I am. The alien chuckled, As you wish. No come on explain, said Tom. Explain what? If you choose to disbelieve then of what use are explanations? said the alien mildly. You could offer some proof, convince me, Tom expostulated. To what end? said the alien gently. Do you not have a saying A man convinced against his will is of the same opinion still? How much power has proof against a firmly

held belief? Oh come on, said Tom disparagingly, no one clings to a belief when there is hard evidence that it is mistaken. The alien looked at him thoughtfully for a moment. How many people do you know that inhale the smoke from burning tobacco leaves despite all the evidence that it causes serious diseases in not only themselves but also in the members of their family that breathe in the smoke? Are these people deliberately putting themselves and their wives and children at risk? Of course not, they solve the situation by refusing to believe that it exists despite all the evidence. They quote the case of a man who smoked heavily all his life and lived to be ninety something, as proof that there is no risk and ignore the thousands that die of cancer as a result of this habit. You may as well quote the incident in which an airman over Germany, whose aircraft was on fire and whose parachute was burned, faced with the choice of burning to death or jumping out of the aircraft at two thousand feet without a parachute chose to jump, he landed in a tree and then in a snowdrift and the only injury he had was a sprained ankle. You could take this as proof that jumping out of an aircraft at two thousand feet without a parachute is perfectly safe, it is just as valid. Your society lives in a belief system, you believe or disbelieve without any evidence to support either view, you are told there has been a seismic wave in the far east and you believe this because that is the kind of thing that happens there, you have no knowledge of this event yourself, but you believe what you are told. Yes, said Tom, but you have to believe something. The alien smiled Why? Well, what do you believe in? challenged Tom. We dont have beliefs, some things we know and some we dont, anything else which we see or hear is accepted as information, until knowledge is acquired which proves or disproves it, then we know and knowledge is not subject to belief. A thing is or it is not, belief cannot alter this, your moon orbits your planet, this is fact. It doesnt depend upon belief, it was once believed that your world was the centre of the universe and that all other astral bodies went round it, this was not and is not in fact the case and the belief could not change this, although judging by what happened to Galileo they certainly tried. All right all right, said Tom, I grant you that in some situations some people can be a bit dense but take me for instance, you have told me you are an alien from another world, do you expect me to believe that without some kind of evidence? No, of course not, the other said kindly, but what proof can I offer? I could tell you things about my studies and my travels, but you have no way of verifying them. Right, said Tom, speaking of travels, you say you came from another world, how did you get here? Where is your spaceship? How did you construct it without a manufacturing industry? How long did it take you to get here? We know that nothing can travel faster than light, lets see you talk your way out of that. And, whilst we are about it, how come you look like a man and can eat, drink and breathe on this world? Or are you going to tell me that your world is identical to this one? The alien took a sip of his drink and gazed into the bar mirror opposite for a few moments, his eyes gazing at something that perhaps only he could see. Tom had seen the same look on the faces of some of his companions during tours overseas with the armed forces, the look of a man thinking of his home.

No, my world is not identical to this one, the gravitational force is much less and the atmosphere is much thinner, even though my world has more than twice the diameter of this it lacks heavy metals which may be why we never developed a technological society and instead applied ourselves to our physical and mental development. The reason I look like a man and can eat, drink and breathe here is because I was born here. You were born here? said Tom in disbelief. You said you were an alien from another world. I should have known it was nonsense, I dont know why I wasted my time listening to you although you do tell a good story. Well thanks for the entertainment, you had me going there for a minute. He laughed ruefully and shook his head, I must be getting soft. He turned to go. Well goodnight alien, he laughed. Goodnight. replied the other and turned back to the bar mirror. Tom looked at him for a moment then shook his head and walked out into the night, he climbed into his car and set off to go home. As he drove along the country lane he glanced up at the star filled sky, it was a clear night without a moon and once clear of the street lights and pollution of the town the stars glittered like diamonds against a black velvet background. Alien huh, ha, bloody, ha, he looked at the stars again, he hadnt said where he came from had he? Oh of course he was born here, he hadnt come from anywhere, what did he mean his world was different? This was his world, he was born here, how could his world be different, obviously he had tripped himself up by letting slip that he was born here, but the statement had been quite deliberate and given as a valid explanation as to why he could survive here, so what did he mean? Ah! It was just a twist in the story to make a mystery out of it, it didnt mean anything. Tom dismissed it and drove on. He glanced at the stars again, why would he say he had travelled here from another world and then tell him his world had no technology and no heavy metals from which a spaceship could be constructed? On the one hand he is telling me one thing and on the other showing that what he had told me was impossible. He was probably just making up a story out of contradictions, he thought about Shakespeares Comedy of Errors, yes that was it, he was just making up a story which contradicted itself at every turn, a typical bar-room yarn, yes that was it. He drove on reassured, he turned on the cassette player and listened for a while, he hadnt tried very hard to convince him though had he, that wasnt usual in a bar-room nut, they were usually very emphatic about it whereas he had not seemed very concerned whether he was believed or not, most barroom nuts tried very hard to convince you that their stories were true. He hadnt seemed like your average nut either, he had seemed quite sensible and matter of fact as though he were speaking of the most ordinary thing in the world. A visitor from another world, nonsense, no one in their right mind would believe that, he reached to the cassette player and turned over the cassette, the music started again and he leaned back and relaxed in the driving seat, no, no one in their right mind would believe, he paused, would believe, mmm believe. What was it he had said? They dont have a belief system, you either know or you dont, if you know then belief doesnt come into it and if you dont know then why do you believe? He thought about his conversation, the man had said he was an alien from another world and had then said he was born here, one of these statements has to be wrong and yet he was quite matter of fact about both of them and saw no conflict.

He said his world had no heavy metals and no technology so how had he travelled from there to here? He hadnt, he had been born here, oh to hell with it, its just a load of nonsense. I dont know why Im bothering myself with it, came from another world, born here, came from another world, born here, Damn and blast the man, thought Tom as he turned the car round and headed back the way he came. Im going to settle this once and for all see if I dont, he muttered to himself, gradually working himself into a temper. He pulled into the pub car park and slammed the car door: he was going to regret that later. He stormed into the pub to find it empty except for the barman. Did you notice the chap I was talking to earlier this evening? he asked. The barman thought for a minute then said, tall chap, fair hair, looked a bit of an intellectual, drank tonic water without the gin? Oh, was that what he was drinking? thought Tom, so he obviously wasnt a drunk, unless you can get drunk on tonic water if you are an alien, this sparked his anger again. Do you know where I can find him? The barman said, Sorry, he comes in here once or twice a week but rarely speaks to anyone, mostly just sits and watches the customers almost as if he is studying them, but not in a nasty way if you know what I mean, he just seems interested in people, I thought there might be a bit of trouble the other night, we had a few of the self-styled hard men in and one of them accused him of looking at him in a funny way and offered to take him outside and give him a seeing to. I tried to intervene, but the chap said no it was all right and the two of them went out together, I was about to phone the police as I expected him to be lying in the car park badly beaten when the two of them came back in and shook hands, the hard man went back to his mates, I asked what had happened and the chap just said, Oh, we reached an agreement. And that was it. Ive never seen anyone reach an agreement with one of those that didnt end up with someone in hospital but he would say no more, the hard man went back to his mates and seemed reluctant to discuss the matter to the point where he threatened to give one of his mates a doing if he didnt lay off, and there it ended. Ive no idea what happened but I tell you, that is a very strange man. Tom thought for a while then said, Do you know when he will be in again? I dont, apologised the barman, as I said he comes in a couple of times a week, but I dont know where he lives, he doesnt seem to have a car so I dont suppose he lives far away but I know most of the house owners round here and he isnt one of them so Im afraid I cant help you. With that Tom had to be content so he went out to his car and that was when he remembered slamming the car door with the keys still in the ignition. The car had an anti-theft system which, if the car was touched whilst the key was in the ignition, automatically locked all the doors. He had had it installed for his wifes safety so that if she was alone in the car and broke down and had forgotten to lock any of the doors they would lock automatically if anyone tried to get into the car. Naturally if she was in the car she could unlock the doors when it was safe to do so, he had never envisaged leaving the keys in the lock and then rocking the car, so now he was locked out of his car in a country pub car park at near midnight and his mobile phone was in the car, wonderful! That blasted alien, he thought, I could see him far enough. Ill just have to break one of the windows. He looked around for a suitable rock and went back to the car and smashed the passenger side window just as a police car pulled into the car park. Questions were asked and he was invited to accompany the police to

the station where he waited until they contacted his wife and fetched her to the station to verify his story. On the way home he told her the story of his misfortunes and said indignantly that the police didnt believe him despite the fact that he knew of everything in the car including his mobile phone which he told them the number of, but they still would not believe him. He thought about this. not believe. He had all the evidence that he was speaking the truth but they would not believe, they believed he was trying to steal the car and no amount of evidence was going to shake that belief until his wife turned up. He thought about what the alien had said about belief, people will cling to what they want to be true despite all the evidence to the contrary. He must see if he can find this alien: There were a couple of questions he wanted answering. He visited the pub every evening for the next four weeks, but without any sign of the man, so he gave it up as a bad job and went back to his usual routine and more or less forgot about the, so called, as he now chose to think about it, alien. Tom, his wifes voice came from downstairs just as he was negotiating the tricky area under his nose. Damn, he muttered, I wish she wouldnt do that, I nearly cut my nose off again. Yes love, he called, what is it? The garage just called, the new window has arrived and they want to know when you can bring the car in. Tell them Ill bring it in today, said Tom, muttering to himself, about bloody time too, they called six weeks ago to say it had been dispatched, six bloody weeks to get a pane of glass thirty bloody miles, I could have walked it faster. What was that dear? called his wife. Oh, nothing, just thinking out loud. He finished his shave and went downstairs where his wife greeted him with a kiss. You are looking a bit grumpy dear. Well, grunted Tom, six weeks to get a pane of glass thirty miles, about two days to do the job and five weeks shuffling paper. Every time I take the car out people look at the window covered in acetate sheet taped on and I know what they are thinking, and when I drive past a policeman he looks with grave suspicion at the taped up window and I find myself looking for somewhere to hide, its embarrassing. His wife smiled at him, still its here now so go and get it fitted and perhaps it will put you in better tune. Tom grinned. He could never stay grumpy when his wife smiled like that. All right love I give in. If you are passing the central library on your way would you see if they have a copy of Palgraves Treasury? There is something I want to look up, she said. Ill drop the car in at the garage and call in the library on my way in to work, its on my way anyway. Tom promised. Thank you darling, his wife smiled, and Tom thought, not for the first time, for a smile like that I would walk a mile across broken glass in my bare feet. He gathered his bits and pieces together and went out to the car scowling at the missing window and thinking back to how he came to break it. What an idiot, he thought, and wondered what had happened to the so called alien. He drove into town and parked the car at the garage and was pleased to find that they had in fact got the window, he had been prepared to hear more excuses but no, the

window was there and they promised to have it fitted in time for him to collect after he finished work. He left the car there and walked to the central library. On entering he asked at the desk did they have a copy of Palgraves Treasury? Yes he was told, Just go through to the far end and you will find it on the shelves to the right. He ambled through the silent figures reading at the study tables until he came to the last table, the figure there reading a newspaper looked familiar, he looked again, the figure had its back to him but he noted the fair hair, the neat grey suit, the long fingered hands, could this be the alien? He shook his head, and carried on to the poetry shelves and browsed until he found the book his wife wanted. As he turned to go to the desk he saw that the man reading the newspaper had turned round and was regarding him quizzically. He stopped. It is you! he exclaimed. I wasted every evening for four weeks looking for you. I know, said the alien the barman told me, he smiled. Now why would you do that? Its just that there were a couple of things I wanted to ask you, Tom said uncomfortably, its not important. But important enough to spend four weeks looking? said the alien raising one eyebrow. Tom grinned shamefacedly, Well at the time I was curious. But you are no longer curious, countered the alien, well good day to you. He turned back to his newspaper. Tom walked to the desk and checked out the book. As he went to walk out he remembered how he had done just that at the pub and then gone back to find it empty. No! Damn it, he was going to get some answers. He walked back to the table and asked, Do you mind if I join you? Not at all, said the alien, what can I do for you? Tom looked around at the frowns of disapproval from the other readers at this conversation and their rather pointed looks at the notice saying silence please. There is a cafe here, would you care to join me for a coffee or tea? I should be delighted, the other responded. By the way, said Tom what are you called? The other grinned at the phraseology, My name is Albert he said. They walked together to the cafe area and took a table at the window overlooking the main road. Albert glanced once through the window then turned back to Tom. Tom ordered tea and a teacake for Albert and coffee for himself. Looking at Albert he was sure that that one glance had been enough to grasp everything worth seeing outside that window. They regarded each other, Well, said Albert is this a social occasion or has it some deeper purpose? Tom looked at him, marshalling his thoughts, When we met you said that you came from another world. Yes. But then you said you had been born here on Earth. Yes. Tom sighed, There seems to be something of a contradiction here. Ah, I see, said Albert. There has been a bit of a cultural misunderstanding. When

I say that I come from another world, I mean myself, my essence if you like, my id as I think some of your psychologists call it, whereas my body was in fact born here on earth. You mean that that body is not yours! exclaimed Tom. You are using someone elses body? Certainly not! said Albert, obviously deeply offended. This body is as much mine as yours is yours. Then Im afraid I dont understand, said Tom. Albert smiled ruefully, Im sorry if I was a little brusque but, on my world, the idea of using someone elses body without their permission is complete anathema to us, please forgive my rudeness. Tom waved this away, No apology needed, I spoke from ignorance not condemnation but I am no wiser, I would appreciate an explanation. That would take a while, remarked Albert. Are you sure you can spare the time, you were obviously on your way to somewhere. he gestured to the book Tom was holding. Tom looked at his watch Grief, is that the time, I must dash, look can I see you this evening? A frown crossed his face, Oh damn! We have the Robinsons coming over for the evening, could you meet me here tomorrow about the same time? Albert inclined his head, I shall do my best to be here, if it is at all possible. And with that Tom had to be content. At the office Tom dealt with the mail, went through his schedule for the following week and made some notes, then, having nothing further to deal with until the afternoon, jotted down a few thoughts about Albert. He was still not convinced that the whole thing was not an elaborate hoax but could not for the life of him see for what purpose. If it was a hoax what did Albert stand to gain? He didnt even seem particularly interested in maintaining contact. Tom had wasted four weeks whereas Albert had simply gone off to do something else, unless of course that was all part of the technique and he knew that Tom would try to find him, but Tom had not done so, the meeting in the library had been pure accident, or had it? Of course it had, if his wife had not asked him to get the book he would not have gone into the library, but perhaps Albert saw him go into the library and followed him to make the meeting look accidental. He thought about this, but Albert had already been in the library when he arrived, yes but suppose... At this point Tom called a halt to his speculations. If I carry on like this, running in ever decreasing circles, Im soon going to be biting myself in the small of the back. He leaned back and glanced at the clock then with a mischievous smile, picked up the telephone and tapped out his home number, his wifes voice answered, Hello? Good heavens! he said, youve got no clothes on! There was a small scream from the other end and the sound of the telephone being put down hurriedly. He waited. A few moments later his wife came back on the phone. Fool, she said, laughing. He chuckled, he knew that his wife always took a shower at this time and would walk through to the bedroom to answer the phone without dressing. Can you meet me for lunch love? he asked. Samantha caught the slight edge in his tone, she knew Tom well and knew he had something he wanted to talk about. Of course, she replied, where and what time? Tom thought for a moment Lyons, its just round the corner, can you get there

OK? Samantha smiled to herself. Of course she could get there, if Tom wanted her there then nothing would stop her. Yes, Sheila is coming in to go shopping and there are a few things I want for tonight, she can drop me off and after lunch Ill meet up with her and get the bits and pieces and go back with her unless you want me to stay for the afternoon. No just for lunch, say about an hour? said Tom. Very good Ill see you then, love you. Love you too. Tom smiled as he put the phone down How did I get so lucky? he thought for perhaps the thousandth time. He turned back to his work. Samantha phoned Sheila. Do you feel like going shopping this afternoon? she asked. Sheila wasnt fooled, Why, whats up? Tom wants me to go in for lunch. Problem? said Sheila. Samantha was quiet for a minute, No I dont think so, but something is bothering him and has been for a while. You dont think its woman trouble do you? Definitely not! came the reply without hesitation, Im prepared to believe just about anything from a global nuclear war upwards but the one thing I am absolutely certain of is Tom. What time do you want to go? asked Sheila. Tom said about an hour at Lyons, is that all right? Samantha asked. Then I thought we might go shopping afterwards, I have the Robinsons coming over for the evening and I thought I might get a few extras in. Yes, fine, came the reply, see you in about twenty minutes OK? Lovely, see you then. Samantha put down the phone and smiled. She could always rely on Sheila. When she arrived at the cafe Tom was already seated at a table, he waved as he saw her and she waved back. How does he do it? she wondered. There is a queue from here to there at the door but he always seems to manage to find a space. I must ask him one day, or there again perhaps not, it always looks like magic so lets keep it that way. She made her way to the table and Tom pulled a chair out for her, saw her seated then resumed his own seat. She looked round. I wonder how many husbands did that for their wives, judging by the obviously envious glances; not many. She turned to her husband, Now Tom, what is the problem? He looked at her, there was no fooling Samantha, she could read him like a book and a primary school book at that. He told her of his first meeting with Albert at the pub and of the barmans story about the hard man, how he had set off for home but the conflicting statements that Albert had made kept bugging him until he had gone back, with the results she knew, about the four weeks without success and then meeting him again at the library and of the remarks about the id and the body. And you think there may be a story or an article in this but you are unsure how to present it. Tom grinned and shook his head, trust Sam to go straight to the heart of the matter. Yes, I dont know whether to send it up as another one of these aliens have landed stories or simply ignore it. The problem is Im not sure that it is a hoax as I dont see any possible gain from it.

Perhaps he just wants to get his name in the magazine or on television. Samantha speculated. But he doesnt know I have anything to do with journalism, so why tell me? There are plenty of reporters around who would jump at the chance to fill a blank column on a slow news day and their names are well enough known. His wife looked at him thoughtfully, Do you think there is a real possibility that he is what he says he is? Thats the problem, said Tom if he is what he says he is then this is the biggest story in the history of journalism, but if I present it as such and it turns out like the Hitler diaries then I can kiss my career a fond farewell. Samantha sat in silence as she finished her lunch and then drank her coffee. Tom waited, knowing that she was going over the discussion. I suggest that you invite him for dinner one evening, so that we can have a long discussion with him, and then compare notes afterwards before you make any decisions. Tom thought, Trust Sam, she will help with the discussion and will compare notes, but the decision is mine and she will accept whatever I decide, how many men have a wife like her? He too glanced round the cafe. Not many. They ordered another coffee and sat chatting about inconsequential things until Tom looked at his watch and asked, When have you to meet Sheila? We arranged to meet in Marks and Sparks after we finish lunch, whoever is there first gets the coffees in. Ah fine, said Tom. They finished their coffee and Tom asked for the bill. Are we going Dutch? asked Samantha, a private joke, harking back to when they had first met and Tom had taken her out to lunch and then had not enough money to pay the bill. Tom laughed, Not this time, perhaps next. They both laughed at the shared experience, Tom paid the bill and they got up to go. As they walked out of the shop Samantha kissed him and said, Until later. Until later, replied Tom, their parting ritual from way back when. Tom went back to his office and buckled down to work, so much so that when he looked at the clock it was after five. Id better get a move on, the Robinsons are due at seven and if Im not bright eyed, bushy tailed and in my glad rags by then Sam will not be best pleased. He smiled at the thought of his wife and went to collect his car. When he arrived at the garage his car was exactly where he had left it that morning. Oh, no! he thought, they havent even started on it yet, Ive got less than two hours, there isnt a bus for another hour, I shall have to take the car as it is. His exasperation boiled over and he stalked into the garage. The mechanic saw him and came over. What is happening about my car? said Tom furiously, you have had it since this morning. Yes, said the mechanic, its ready. Well why, Tom stopped, ready? Yes, since lunch time, your wife came in to see. Oh right, fine, good, how much is it? The bill is at the office, Ill just get your car out while you are there and have it ready for you. said the mechanic. Fine, said Tom somewhat taken aback. He had been keyed up for a good old row only to have it pulled out from under him. He paid the bill, thanked the mechanic and drove off. He got home with time to spare, kissed his wife and went to get booted and spurred to meet the Robinsons.

The evening went well and he thought to himself, I wonder if I should bring the conversation round to stories of flying saucers and aliens landing and see what the Robinsons think about it. Over the after dinner drinks he was just about to broach the subject when George said, Did you hear the story that a flying saucer has landed in Scotland and the army have been called out to investigate? Its going to be on television. Tom looked at Samantha, Really, no we hadnt heard, what time? Just after the nine-o-clock news. said Daphne. Tom looked at the clock, Well, lets put it on and see whats happening. They watched the end of the news, some politician spouting off from a written script about something he knew nothing about, then the weather forecast which went on and on, or so it seemed to Tom, who sat tapping his fingers impatiently on the arm of the chair. Samantha came and sat by him. Finally the forecast ended and the announcer came on. We now go to Scotland where it is reported that an alien ship has landed on the moors not far from a small village in Caithness. The camera zoomed in on what appeared to be a saucer shaped object half hidden by heather and bracken and surrounded by army units, the excited reporter was saying the army have surrounded the spacecraft at a distance of five hundred metres and are waiting for heavier weapons to be brought in by helicopter before moving any closer, several experts are on the scene and have recommended a waiting policy. The camera remained trained on the half hidden object whilst the reporter with nothing to report filled in with excited commentary and speculation ranging from the inane to the insane, the camera switched to show a group sat round a table in the studio. We have with us, said the studio link man, experts from the Aero-space industries and astronomers from the university. Now Professor Parker I will call on you first to give your views. The camera switched to a view of the saucer. Well, you can see the scorch marks around the perimeter so it would seem that this craft has had a difficult entry into our atmosphere, you can also see small protuberances around the rim which suggest a propulsion system with which we are unfamiliar, I would say that the landing was inadvertent and probably due to a malfunction of some kind. Doctor Jones, would you agree with this assessment? The link man turned to another of the group. Yes, I think the professor has hit the nail on the head, what we are seeing here is in effect a spacecraft accident. Now, Professor Rawson, you are the head of cosmological research, could you give us an opinion as to where this craft may have come from? Well, to judge by its size, I would say it is far too small to have come very far and I would hazard a guess that it is in fact a landing craft from a far larger vessel which is unable to land on a planet. What is your view on this Professor Parker? I would agree that the craft is far too small to have come from another world and that Professor Rawson is probably right. The link man turned to the only woman in the group, Doctor Winstone you are the head of biology do you have any thoughts as to the appearance of the crew of this craft? Obviously they are not going to look like us and from the proportions of the craft they would be a great deal smaller than we are. We have seen no sign of activity since the craft landed and it may be that the shell has been breached and that the occupants are now dead as it is unlikely that they could survive in our atmosphere. The discussion went on, speculation following speculation, with the excited

commentators voice filling in the gaps in the conversation whilst the object simply sat there doing nothing. Eventually Tom became bored with it, A lot of commentary, a lot of opinion, a lot of speculation, but the bottom line is that no one knows anything. The programme terminated shortly afterwards with the promise to keep the viewers up to date with the latest news as and when it happened. And if, grunted Tom as a last view of the object doing absolutely nothing faded from the screen. The following day Tom decided to take the day off. He turned on the television to catch the morning news and see what exciting developments had developed during the night. The object was still there, still doing nothing, the army were still there, the experts were still counselling a waiting policy and a synthetically hysterical reporter was still trying to drum up some excitement over an object that simply sat there. Tom shook his head and turned it off. Are you going into town today Sam? he called, Samantha came through from the kitchen. No, not today, I have a few jobs I want to get done, if you see this man Albert remember to ask him over for dinner. Any particular evening? No, any time at all. Oh! Except Thursday! Im going over to see mother, shes got a new cookery book she wants to show me. What another one? he laughed how many is that? Pretty soon you wont be able to get into the house for them, it would be more understandable if she ever did any cooking, but Ive never seen her cook anything. Samantha smiled. No she just collects cookery books. Well, other people collect stamps or antiques or paintings, so why not? Tom threw up his hands. I surrender, pax? Pax, said Samantha. Tom went out to the car and looked approvingly at the new passenger door window, at least it would stop the knowing grins and looks of suspicion from the police. He drove into town and parked the car at his office, the only vacant space around. Fortunately it had privacy bars which needed a key to open. He went to the library and looked round for Albert but he wasnt there. Oh damn! he thought, Ive lost him again. He went over to the news corner but no Albert, he decided to go into the cafe and get a coffee. He gazed idly round at the other customers and caught snatches of conversation mostly relating to the flying saucer in Scotland. He was surprised at how much information these people had that was unknown to the army, the television and the authorities. There was the usual self-appointed expert that you always find on these occasions who filled his pipe and gave his definitive views on the object, its origin, the incompetence of the army for not blowing it to pieces, how dilatory the authorities were in not getting in there and investigating, although how they were to do this after the army had blown it to pieces was not explained, and how they should never have allowed it to land and so on. Tom thought of some of the letters to the editor he had seen, pro bono publico, lieutenant colonel retired, mother of ten, Abraham and his seed forever let loose their weary bleats upon the world. Do you mind if I join you? Alberts voice came from behind him. He turned quickly, Be my guest. Albert seated himself with a cup of tea in his hand, Have you been waiting long?

he asked. No, I only just got here myself, have you seen the news about the flying saucer? Yes, said Albert, you people have the most amazing talent for believing nonsense. What makes you think its nonsense? Albert gazed at him thoughtfully for a moment, This object is approximately ten metres in diameter and roughly one metre thick, now intelligence requires a certain cranial capacity, having a large brain does not necessarily mean high intelligence but in order to have intelligence of a certain level you must have a brain in which it can function, to carry this you need a body of proportional size in order to carry the needed organs to supply the brain with nutrients, so taking this into account how many entities do you think you can get into that thing, bearing in mind that the machine has also to contain propulsion units, life support systems and so on. So, as your expert says, it could not be capable of traversing interstellar space and must have come from a mother ship, it has been sat there for at least twenty four hours so presumably it is incapable of taking off again, if you were on the mother ship and one of your landing craft was down with its crew presumably injured what would you be doing? You would send another craft to rescue them, why do you think they have not done so? The alternative is that it is remote controlled and is intended to make contact and ascertain if there is any danger before committing personnel, but if this was the case why has it done nothing? If, as the experts think, it has crashed then why have they not sent another? After all if they can span interstellar space they are hardly likely to only have one contact craft. No the thing is a fake, a joke on someones part, it presumably appeared yesterday did it not? Yes, said Tom, as a matter of fact it did, what has that to do with it? Albert looked sadly at him, And what was yesterdays date? Tom looked at the newspaper he was reading, second of April, so yesterday was, he grimaced, all fools day, the thing was an April fool joke. He looked up at Albert who smiled and then they both laughed. Lets go over to the pub and Ill buy you a tonic water. Tom chuckled. The barman has been talking, said Albert. They went into the pub to find the television set going full blast and the almost hysterical reporter gabbling that the object still hadnt done anything but that he was expecting something to happen any minute as he had been for the previous thirty hours. Now he was almost screaming with excitement. Yes! Two small objects which appeared to be antenna were now unfolding from the top of the saucer. There appears to be wires stretched between them, our experts in the studio believe that the saucer is about to transmit to the mother ship, probably a distress call, the army and every one with a scanning radio is scanning every frequency to try to pick up the transmission. Our experts believe that the mother ship will send a rescue craft to take off any survivors, they strongly recommend that the army does not interfere, the antenna are upright now and something is unrolling from one of them, our experts believe that it will be a reflector of some kind to form the transmission into a beam, it is fully extended now and appears to be blue with two diagonal white stripes, we are not sure what the significance of this is yet, our experts think it may be some form of filter, strangely it looks almost like the Scottish flag now there is a coincidence. Now something else has unrolled very quickly below the first, it appears to have markings on it, can we get a close up of that? The camera zoomed in and a deathly silence fell as the markings were revealed.

Not a threat of destruction or a demand that the world surrendered but in large block capitals across the full television screen was written APRIL FOOL. As Tom remarked to his wife later: At that point the meeting broke up.