"Somebody’s Stolen the Earth!"
By Matthew Green
Prologue bit:
It is a little known truth that for some centuries now there has been a secret united government of the world. These are the people who enforce the laws among the highest of the high. The presidents, the prime ministers and the kings (whoever enforces law among the united government is anybody’s guess).
Many decades ago the secret united government purchased designs for interstellar spacecraft from a race of aliens, and ever since their agents have been gradually building up relations with various alien species, in the hope that one day, space will be a safe place for the average person to visit.
Prologue ends…
Bob and Nadger, space investigators, were on route back to planet Earth, after recently solving a rather grisly murder of a human ambassador by an alien, involving a length of rope, a mobile phone and a tube of super glue.
Bob carefully steered the spacecraft into orbit around the Earth.
"We’re home," he said, cheerfully.
"Are we really?" said Nadger, in an irritable sort of way.
"Yes we are."
"And you don’t see anything wrong with this picture?"
Bob peered out of the window.
"I can’t see anything," he said.
"Exactly," said Nadger.
"Hang about!" Bob yelped. "Somebody’s stolen the Earth!"
Bob and Nadger walked into the bar.
"Ouch!" exclaimed both, in unison.
"I keep meaning to move that," said the alien bartender. "What can I get you fellas?"
Nadger and Bob staggered concussionedly over to the bar.
"Pint of lager please," said Nadger.
"Wait a second, aren’t we American? Americans don’t really drink lager, do they?" said Bob.
"I don’t know, it hasn’t really been made clear, has it?"
"I can’t serve you lager!" spluttered the alien, "Alcohol’s poison, it damages the liver and the brain. They’d sentence me to death by toilet brush if I gave you that!"
"How does that work?" enquired Nadger.
The alien became uneasy.
"They, erm, kind of, stick it up your rear passage," he said.
"Surely anatomical differences make that impossible," said Bob. "Best I don’t drink, anyway. I’m driving."
"Well I’m not," fumed Nadger, "and I need a drink."
"Don’t mind him," said Bob. "We’re actually here for information."
He produces a photograph from his inside pocket.
"Have you seen this planet?" he asked, proffering the aforementioned photograph to the bartender.
"Why does everyone think a bar is the place to get information?" said the alien. "I’m a bar tender, okay, the only requirement for this job is the ability to move liquids from one container into another. What do you expect from me?"
"I seen it," interrupted a Gulorgat, who was sitting at a nearby table.
"What?" said Nadger.
The Gulorgat set his glass of crude oil on the table.
"I said I seen it," he said, as he turned his octopoid form to face the humans.
This person was not a pretty sight, even for a Gulorgat. His skin was flaking, he was missing three and a half tentacles, and he had a patch over his eye (and Gulorgats only have one).
"Where?" asked Nadger.
"I was in my ship about twenty light years from here, minding my own business when some space hog overtook me in his space tow truck. He was towing that planet."
Nadger handed the Gulorgat a pad and paper, instructing him to write down the exact location he saw the planet, and in which direction it was heading.
And everybody played down the fact that this alien was obviously blind.
Calculating the location of the Earth by working out which star the planet was on direct course for at it’s reported sighting, Bob and Nadger arrived in the correct solar system without hitch.
"What’s that space craft?" said Nadger, pointing at the odd looking spacecraft which was orbiting the Earth.
"Looks like a space tow truck, only with much more powerful engines," said Bob.
"Dock us up," ordered Nadger.
"Hey, you’re not the boss of me," said Bob.
Bob and Nadger stepped out of the squad space ship, through the airlock into the boarding area of the space tow truck.
Suddenly and without warning, there came a loud clanking sound, and out from behind a hunk of loose machinery stepped a man. His face was painted white, he wore black dungarees, a black and white striped shirt and a beret.
"Who are you?" said either Bob or Nadger (it doesn’t matter which).
The man made a dramatic gesture.
"I am ze Mime," said he (in a french accent).
"Oh dear lord, he thinks he’s a supervillian," Bob whispered to Nadger.
"I was going to say that," said Nadger.
"You are wondering why a stole ze Earth, Non?" said ze mime.
"He’s awfully talkative for a mime," said Nadger.
"I was going to say that," said Bob.
"Silance, while I recount to you ze details of my insidious plan!" ordered ze Mime.
"If you must," said somebody.
"I ‘ave stolen ze Earth, and I now ‘old it up for a ransom. I will demand of ze secret government zat zey will give me rule over ze planet zen, and only zen, will I return zis world to its rightful solar systemmmma."
"So how did you prevent anyone from noticing that the sun had disappeared?"
"I saturated ze planet wiz an anti time field, holding ze population in a field of zero time passage."
"Of course," said Bob (or could it be Nadger?), "we could just arrest you and take the Earth back ourselves."
"Foreign pig dogs! I am ze only one who knows how to control zis space craft,."
"Does it really make any difference where the Earth is?" said Nadger. "Who’ll actually notice?"
"Someone will," said Bob, "we’ll have to explain it somehow."
Nadger thought about this for a second.
"We’ll just feed them a load of incomprehensible techno-babble about wormholes, everyone who matters’ll swallow it."
"Uh oh," said ze Mime, "looks like time to make my escape."
And so saying, he ran into an unoccupied airlock, closed the inner door, and started the depressurisation sequence.
Nadger approached the airlock window and peered inside.
"Y’ know, he’s dead in there," he said.
"Who cares?" said Bob. "Let’s go home."
"Can I have my lager then?" asked Nadger.
"You can do what you bloody well please, we don’t live together."
"Oh yeah," said Nadger.
THE END