RUNESTONES 5/4

RUNESTONES 5/4

by Richard Banks    

         “Henderson,” I gasp, “what are you doing here?”

         “Hiding,” he says, “hasn’t Jones told you, I’m a wanted man?”

         “No.”

         “Well, I am and so are you and Jones; at least you will be when the both of you fail to report back to Parry. That’s tomorrow morning, I believe. You’re fortunate that the only closed-circuit camera in the village is outside the bank. Had you been pictured doing anything of concern to your fellow watchers you’ll now be on your way to a detention centre. Just as well you have switched sides. Not that you meant to of course, but nevertheless that’s the way it is. So, Sir, I suppose you will be wanting to know about the side you’re on. Well, I have good news, you’re with the good guys, we’re going to save the world! Now, what else do you need to know? Has Jones told you about the invasion fleet overhead?”

         “Only that lights have been seen over the west coast of America.”        

         “More than just lights. In the last few days alien craft have taken up positions over Washington, New York, Moscow and Beijing. Another eight are expected to overfly other major cities in the next few days. They’re testing us, making targets of themselves. Show us what you’ve got they are saying and so far we haven’t laid a glove on them. Oh yes, it’s been tried, aircraft and rockets. Last night the Americans tried to nuke the one over Washington. Imagine that, a nuclear explosion over a city of 5.4 million people. It failed like everything else has failed. Nothing gets within half a mile of the Runes before they make it disappear from the sky. For that, we can only thank them, but when they land, as they intend to, every man jack of us will be in the front line, the biggest turkey shoot in history. If they need slaves some of us will survive, if not, the human race will come to an end. So, what do our present lords and masters intend to do, the many Governments of this world? In truth, there are only two that matter and for once they are reading from the same script. The Chinese and Americans will fight to the last man, and when the contest is all but lost they will devastate the planet with every bomb still left. If they can’t have the world no one else will. They argue that in this lies the ultimate deterrent; why should the Runes invade when they will be denied everything they have come for.”

         “And what does our Government say?”

         “Whatever the Americans want it to. With the CIA sitting-in on every Cabinet meeting, it’s only the yes men who remain. But there are those outside Government who are not yes men, who know what’s happening, who think it possible to negotiate a settlement. We are many and soon our negotiators will be meeting with theirs.”

         “And what makes you think they will listen to you?”

         “Have faith, with words come salvation. Repeat after me, we are going to save the world. Until then you and Jones will need to go into hiding, me too, this place is no longer safe.”

         He makes a call on a mobile phone and without naming himself or anyone else requests a taxi to Worthing. Thirty minutes later it arrives except that it’s a builder’s van. We clamber into the back and sit down on a bench that’s bolted to the floor. There’s no windows, we’re in almost total darkness and, once the van picks up speed we’re hanging on to anything that will keep us upright. Worthing is only a short drive away but after thirty minutes we’re still going. At last, the van stops on what sounds like a shingle drive, the doors open and the driver ushers us up the steps of a large, porticoed building that’s probably someone’s stately home. A woman meets us in the hall. “Everything is ready,” she tells Henderson. “Will you be staying the night?” Henderson replies that we will, and she instructs a younger woman to prepare three rooms. “They are,” she says, “close to the fire escape should we have uninvited visitors.” She smiles at the irony of a joke that is not quite a joke and suggests we take tea in the Marble Room. Henderson asks if Frobisher is here and on being told that he is goes in search of him.

         He returns half an hour later in high spirits. If anyone is enjoying the prospect of an alien invasion it appears to be him. “It’s on,” he says, “we’re meeting them on the Downs tomorrow evening at twenty-three hundred hours. Jackson’s already here, General Marsh arrives this evening and the Assistant Commissioner tomorrow morning. It’s all systems go. So, gentlemen, do you want to be eyewitnesses to history being made, have a story to dine out on for the rest of your lives. Of course, you do. We need observers, the more the better. It will be your privilege to be there among the watchers. Front row seats!” He laughs, and I wonder if he has lost all reason. 

(to be continued)

Copyright Richard Banks