Dave Trellis and the Allotments of Doom (25 page)

‘So you control
all travel throughout the galaxy?’ asked Dave.

‘Indeed, a
position of great responsibility.’ Engineer smiled. It made him
look smug.

‘If you knew
about these illicit transfers, why didn’t you do something?’

‘I did. I
investigated and found it was an emergency protocol, designed to
allow transfer to the machine in case of incapacity of the
controlling entity. I considered switching it off, but didn’t.’

‘Why? Surely
there was a risk of something like this happening?’

‘Interest,
intrigue, excitement. Have you any idea how long I have swum in the
Sunless Sea? How dull it is to watch over a machine that never
fails? I may sleep for many years, but I still have to wake. Do you
humans not keep pets?’

‘Pets? You
consider us pets?’

‘You fulfil the
same function, it is a suitable description.’

‘At least we
look after our pets. Protect them from harm.’

Engineer stared
at Dave.

‘Such as cock
fighting, badger baiting, dog fighting even. And what happens to
old racehorses and greyhounds? Hypocrisy Trellis? I thought better
of you. Now let's enjoy the battle, or would you prefer to return
to the catacombs?’

‘Enjoy! Enjoy
watching my life’s work destroyed. Enjoy watching my friends
die?’

‘Enough. Sit
and watch. There.’ Engineer pointed to the pavilion in the distance
beyond the allotment walls. ‘You are the representative of Earth
and I respect the traditions. You will come to no harm, but you may
not interfere.’

Engineer
gestured with his hand and the pavilion rose in the air and zoomed
towards them. It settled down twenty feet away in a spot clear of
combatants.

Dave seemed to
deflate; perhaps it was tiredness or just despair. He followed
Engineer to the pavilion and sat in a wicker chair. The pavilion
rose and hovered fifty feet above the battle. It moved backwards
and tilted so that Dave and Engineer had a perfect view of the
frozen battle scene below.

The battle
sprang into life, the noise hit Dave like a soft cushion, and he
jerked back in his chair.

Dave
Trellis

One
Life, One Woman, One Shed

The steel net
still held the queen spiders. They lurched across the parkland
harassed by Palaver. Drones scuttled through the open portcullis
and out the barbican, spreading the confused battle from the
courtyard into the open.

The dogs
destroyed the worker spiders efficiently, but the drones had grey
armour covering on their body and legs that resisted grenade and
sword.

Enoch and his
troop managed to tie down the detached net, using steel hawsers
fixed to the pre-prepared grid in front of the allotments. It was a
mistake. Once anchored, the queen’s managed pull themselves out
from under the net.

Now the
defenders faced the worst situation, queen spiders running free,
the allotments lost, and their first defensive position shattered.
It was impossible to regroup. Small groups of dogs and Palaver
fought individually. There was no control or focus; chaos
reigned.

The spiders
formed a line in the parkland and attacking together, forcing the
defenders back along the valley. Only two waves had arrived and
already they were losing the battle.

Fergus kept to
the edge of the fighting, jumping in huge leaps and relaying
information to Enoch. The pavilion appeared, hovering fifty feet
over the battle with Dave and Engineer sitting on the veranda.
Fergus put it down as one more inexplicable thing and bounced
towards it, aiming to land on the roof. He hit a transparent wall.
Engineer waved his hand and threw Fergus to the other side of the
battle.

‘I thought that
one was transformed for good. His survival is an incident of low
probability.’

‘Oh aye,
disappointed that you didn’t manage to kill yet another innocent?’
asked Dave.

‘In my
dominion, this is nothing; a distraction. After all I have
explained, have you still no concept of the scope –’

‘Bugger scope.
Those are real, thinking, feeling people dying down there. Have you
no humanity?’

Engineer tilted
his head and stared at Dave.

‘You have seen
what I am.’

‘You’re
sentient; you can imagine the suffering of others –’

‘Enough. You
are the one lacking imagination Trellis. I control the fate of
entire planets. When one civilisation decides to invade another and
I switch off their connection, do you think I do not doubt, do not
suffer guilt? I consign billions to isolation and decline, it is my
duty, yet I feel the weight of that responsibility.’

‘At least they
choose their course of action. We are innocent.’

‘As if that
makes a difference. Suns decline, asteroids strike and worlds die.
Innocence is not an excuse; it is the pathetic whine of the
unfortunate.’

‘You can stop
this with a wave of your hand. It’s not much to ask in return for
keeping your machine safe all these years.’

‘Are you
begging Trellis?’

‘If it will
make a difference I will beg, crawling on my belly,’ said Dave and
stared at Engineer.

‘Your belief in
mercy in disappointing, it is an over-rated virtue, its only
purpose to allow miscreants the opportunity to offend again. In any
case, I believe that this change will be for the better. You humans
have over-populated this planet. Thus, you are always squabbling
over resources.’

‘You mean you
welcome this? Millions, billions even could die if these damned
things get loose.’

‘Equilibrium
will form. And if not, then these creatures will present less
danger than you uncontrolled humans.’

Dave just
stared at Engineer, utterly lost for words.

Engineer’s
attention returned to the battle, he laughed and shouted
encouragement to the defenders. Dave stared intently at the
fighting.

‘Trellis can
you perceive it? The roof spiders are singing.’

‘You're daft,
they don't sing.’

‘How parochial.
‘The Lament of the Lost’ is one of the precious sensory treasures
of this sad, little sinkhole in space. Few humans are receptive
enough to perceive it. I shall transform it to sound. Listen.’

An eerie,
almost familiar chorus broke out, it was Mozart/Beethoven/Wagner
mixed and enhanced with delicate complexity that wove perfect tones
into a landscape of music that seemed to wrap about Dave and ease
his anger.

‘It's incred
-’

‘Quiet! The
solo begins.’

The chorus
melted away, a soaring, perfect voice speared through Dave’s mind,
and brought sorrow and longing for his own lost loves. The battle
faded and time skipped.

‘Sung only at
times of great loss, such an honour to hear it. You’re lucky
Trellis.’

Tears rolled
down Dave's cheeks and he stared blankly at the horizon. Engineer
reached over and slapped him on the shoulder.

‘Here comes
‘The Battle Chorus’, that'll shake you up. I will spread the
joy.’

A great wave of
voices rolled out over the parkland. The stirring crescendo and
tempo, buoyed by the psychic undercurrent galvanised the defenders
and the spider’s attack faltered.

Dave squared
his shoulders and wiped his face; the spell of sadness passed.

‘Such timing;
they always make grand entrances.’

‘Who?’

‘The Tuatha De
Daanan, who else were you expecting?’

‘I wasn't
expecting them at all, what with history and all.’

‘Well they’re
here; their charge should be spectacular. This is turning into one
of the best events in ages. Human wars are usually so brutal; they
lack any sense of theatre.’

Boadicea in
full armour led the column of knights rode over the bridge and
spread into line. She could see the situation was desperate, the
wall of brown spiders pushed forward, threatening to overwhelm the
small groups of defenders. In the distance she could see the bodies
of dog and Palaver laid out, protected by the walking wounded.

She raised her
arm, a trumpet sounded and they broke into a gallop. Boadicea
lowered her lance and took aim at a drone. The spiders noticed the
attack and a few turned to face the charge, but it was too late.
The Tuatha de Danaan’s charge hit the attacking line in the rear
and lances struck home with devastating force.

Swords drawn,
the Tuatha De Daanan lashed out. With the line broken, Palaver and
dog rallied. Enoch yelled orders and the defenders started to
concentrate their attacks.

Boadicea
gathered a small group of knights and charged a single queen. Their
lances struck the thorax and swords hacked at the huge legs. It
stumbled and fell on its side. Boadicea kicked her horse forward
and thrust her lance into one of the queen’s eyes. Three feet of
steel-tipped lance sunk into the head and huge spider convulsed
throwing Boadicea from her horse and ripping the lance from her
grasp.

She hit the
ground hard and lay confused amongst the milling spiders’ legs and
horses’ hooves. She rolled over, got to her knees, and pulled her
shield from her back. It was a different battle on your feet with
just a sword to protect you; not sat on a powerful horse with a
long lance to keep the spiders at bay. Boadicea was alone and
surrounded.

A drone turned
and noticed her. It sprang forward and reared up. She struck out
with her sword severing a palp, then the spider’s front legs
dropped, pinning her to the ground. She could smell a musty, acrid
scent and see thick hairs growing in clumps on the spider’s thorax.
It raised another leg and thrust it towards Boadicea’s chest. She
managed to raise her shield and deflect the blow, but the shield
tore away.

Then something
blue filled her vision. Fergus landed heavily in front of Boadicea
and lashed out with his katana, severing a spider leg. He spun and
struck out again, cutting a long furrow in the spider’s thorax. The
sword blurred as he twisted, cut, spun and cut again. The spider
retreated.

Fergus pulled
Boadicea to her feet, grabbed her round the waist, and leapt. They
didn’t leave the ground.

‘Oh yeah, of
course,’ said Fergus.

‘Nice try,’
said Boadicea, ‘Let’s run.’

They sprinted
between the forest of spindly brown legs and ran straight into
another Tuatha De Daanan charge. The horses flowed either side of
them and they turned to watch as the lances struck home. Another
queen brought down.

Fergus and
Boadicea ran across the broken grass, avoiding the small skirmishes
and trying to find a way to re-join the battle. An anti-tank rocket
slammed into the remaining queen, severing a leg. It toppled
sideways and swarmed by axe wielding Palaver. Soon the field
cleared and the defenders raised a ragged cheer.

Dave jumped to
his feet and punched the air.

‘This calls for
celebration.’ he said and strode into the pavilion. He re-appeared
with glasses, Irish whiskey, and cigars.

‘I care not if
you indulge Engineer, but you are welcome in any case,’ said Dave
and set everything down on the card table.

Dave was
putting a match to his cigar when the allotments glowed green once
more and a queen spider appeared behind the allotment walls.

‘Oh no, not
more, can’t you stop this Engineer?’

‘I could, but
why spoil it when it is going so well.’

Suddenly there
were barks deep as thunder in the distance. The queen screamed
defiantly and disappeared below the wall. Dust rose in a plume and
the ground shook as a titanic squabble went on behind the allotment
walls.

‘What was
that?’ asked Engineer.

‘I think I can
guess,’ said Dave. He sat back in his chair with a grin on his face
and took a deep, draw on his cigar.

Out of the
barbican walked a column of armoured, giant dogs. Azimuth rode the
lead dog, a hammer the size of a small filing cabinet in his hand.
Cheers broke out amongst the defenders and Dave saw Enoch throw his
battle-axe in the air.

‘We have had
such drama and now a touch of pathos.’ Engineer gestured with his
cigar towards the head of the valley.

A horde of
people walked towards the allotments. At the front strode Mrs
Yorkshire, closely followed by Painter.

‘Oh bugger,’
said Dave, ‘The Allotment League of Friends. Who told them? This is
going from tragedy to farce.’

‘And the
curtain rises,’ said Engineer, as another green glow appeared over
the allotments.

‘Will this ever
end?’

‘Well, let’s
hope for a few more minutes’ entertainment at least.’

Twenty drones
charged out of the barbican followed by hundreds of workers milling
around like a pack of hounds following a hunt. They fell on the
celebrating defenders, creating instant confusion.

Dave sat back
with great sadness and watched the battle re-start. Engineer stood
at the rail with his whiskey in one hand, cigar in the other.

He seemed a Mrs
Yorkshire fan and yelled encouragement as she pummelled worker
spiders with a rubber fence-post mallet and each time a giant dog
crushed a drone he yelled ‘Ole’ or ‘Bravo’.

‘This is
fantastic. Look more come.’ Over allotments walls strode another
three Queens; they waded into the battle throwing the defenders
into disarray.

Enoch yelled
‘Retreat’ and the giant dogs formed a rear-guard. The Palaver
re-armed at a weapons cache and formed a defensive line. The humans
were herded back to form a secondary line in the rear.

Enoch roared
‘Arrrrooooogh’ and the giant dogs turned and ran towards the newly
formed line. On came the spiders, met by anti-tank missiles and a
sally by the Tuatha De Daanan. The heavily armoured knights crashed
into the three queens, lances shattered, horses fell, and once more
the huge spiders toppled and were swarmed.