Dave Trellis and the Allotments of Doom (26 page)

The ammunition
was low and the defenders looked ragged and tired. It could not
last much longer. Enoch ordered a retreat the last line of defence,
below the steep roadway where the narrowing of the valley meant a
smaller perimeter. The defenders opened the last ammunition cache
and organised themselves. They watched as the allotments disgorged
another wave of queen spiders.

Instead of
attacking straight away, they waited. Another wave arrived, then
more. Soon twelve queens, 200 drones and a sea of workers milled
about in front of the allotments. Then they charged. A huge wave of
chitin, a sea of thin legs, thundered towards the defenders.

It attack met
with a barrage of anti-tank missiles and grenades. The giant dogs
sallied and the ground trembled as the two charges met head on.
Azimuth thrown high into the air came down with his hammer cocked,
ready to strike one last blow.

‘This is epic
stuff. The recording will be priceless,’ said Engineer, ‘though I
feel the side are a little unbalanced.’

He waved his
hands and a complex graphic appeared in the air, showing various
coloured columns with differing heights. With a gesture, Engineer
expanded one column.

‘Ah yes, that
should do nicely.’

The allotments
glowed green. Dave groaned. ‘Not more.’

‘This time it’s
an ally.’

In the
allotment courtyard stood a vast, demonic figure. In its hand it
held a club the size of a telegraph pole. It threw back its head
and roared. The sound numbed; it battered the senses. Honey Bun was
back.

The ground
shook as it jogged towards the beleaguered defenders. The huge club
descended and flattened a queen, the body thumped into the ground
and burst, spraying yellow ichor.

Stoke upon
stroke, the club fell and spiders died. Enoch rode on a giant dog,
shouting orders and organising the frantic defence. Mrs Yorkshire
and Boadicea fought back to back against a carpet of worker
spiders. The A.L.F formed a defensive square around the wounded,
Fergus and Painter fought side by side. Those Tuatha De Daanan
still on horseback joined with the giant dogs sweeping across the
battlefield creating a swath of crushed spiders.

Then it was
over, the spiders broke and fled back towards the allotments. The
defenders sagged, no cheering or celebration, just relief. The
parkland was a scrap yard of spider body parts, carpeted with ichor
and the crunchy remains of worker spiders.

The Honeybun’s
skin, coated with burnt ichor, still looked glorious. It turned
towards the pavilion and bowed to Dave.

Dave stood and
bowed deeply in return. The huge creature walked back to the
allotment courtyard and in a moment disappeared.

Dave stood up,
yelled, and threw his cap in the air. It rotated in the wind and
fell towards the broken remains of spiders, humans, dog, and
palaver.

Suddenly it
stopped falling and everything was still.

‘You haven’t
won. It hasn’t even begun,’ said Engineer. ‘Look.’

He pointed to a
tall green column on the floating graphic. ‘See that thin blue
line. That is the number of the spiders you’ve defeated. There are
hundreds of thousands, millions even, just waiting to appear.

They are a
bio-weapon, created by some mad, ancient race. A planet killer. One
queen breeds an army, they swarm with a host of new queens, and the
process repeats.

Someone has set
up a transfer, moving everything that arrives at the swarm’s
target, to your allotments. First you get the scouting party, and
then one planet rotation later, you get the swarm.

‘So all this
was a waste of time? We can’t possibly win?’

‘A waste? Far
from it. You have entertained me. More, you have convinced me of
your loyalty to the allotments; you and those who risked their
existence to preserve it. I am touched.’

‘So you will
intervene at last?’

‘No, but I am
touched. I thought you ought to know before everyone died. It was
an honour Trellis, an honour. So goodbye, I wish you … What was
that?’

‘What?’

‘There,’
Engineer pointed, ‘Over by the edge of the battle field, something
moved.’

‘Oh, that’s one
of the Murgatroyds.’

‘You have a
Murgatroyd here? Unbelievable.’

‘No, not one,
many; must be a dozen or so by now.’

Engineer stared
at Dave.

‘What! Why
didn’t you tell me there are so many here? It’s outrageous,
incredible.’ Engineer pulled his hair and yelled ‘Impossible!
You’re wrong. They hate each other with too much
determination.’

‘Whatever you
say. We have loads of the blasted things.’

‘Why didn’t I
know?’

‘Well, they are
invisible. Unless you spent time in the allotment, rather than
mooching around spying, you’d never notice them.’

‘This is an
event cusp. Two such improbabilities combined imply causation. This
requires investigation.’

Engineer
motioned and the graphic expanded. It showed a map of the immediate
area, a group of thirteen glowing dots showed in one corner.

‘So many! It
must be a conclave. This has not happened for millennia. He will
calculate a probability matrix. Watch.’

The graphic
expanded again and showed a complex dance of surfaces, interacting,
combining, and twisting apart again. Eventually they resolved into
a single flat surface with a pointed spire in the middle.

Engineer
gestured and the screen turned to rank after rank of complex
formulae and matrices. He reached out and dragged one set of
results to one side and it expanded showing incomprehensible
details.

‘Such
arrogance, such selfishness. They dare take this from me!’

‘Sorry?’

‘They plan to
steal control of the machine,’ said Engineer.

‘It is obvious
now; hindsight such a depressing insight. They fooled us all those
years ago. They wanted the causeways built so they could travel
freely. So much for the greater good of all. When we built the
machine instead, all travel was controlled; locally at the receiver
and transmitter, and centrally at the exchange.

I understand
their outrage. They gave us the necessary knowledge to create
travel over vast distances. Us, the greatest of engineers, went and
built the wrong thing. Inter-planetary travel disappeared, replaced
by our fabulous machine, and their plans for freedom went with
it.’

‘I still don’t
understand,’ said Dave.

‘They are
hated. Nobody lets them use the transmitters. They have to bribe,
with valuable information, every time they want to travel. This
attack is to remove the machine’s defences. In particular the roof
spiders.

‘What? They
couldn’t stop a Murgatroyd.’

‘Indeed? So why
have they never ventured into the catacombs? The roof spiders can
detect and immobilise them.’

‘In that case,
how did they manage to interfere with the machine?’

‘Hold, I will
scan the machine…’

The graphic
changed showing a multi-layered plan of the catacombs.

‘The cooling
system. One of them entered via the main intake pipe and followed
the cooling system to the heart of the machine. See, it is still
there, but not for long.’

Engineer
gestured and there was a huge splash in the river.

‘This must stop
right now,’ said Engineer in a quiet voice.

‘Indeed, us
humans have saved your vast warty arse. If we weren’t here, then
they would have succeeded in stealing control of your machine. You
owe us Engineer.’

Engineer stared
at Dave and then nodded his head.

‘Perhaps you
are right. Perhaps this can continue. Humans may even grow up in
time.’ Engineer smiled, it looked painful. ‘I am fond of some of
your cultural assets; it would be a shame to lose Led Zeppelin and
Motorhead.’

Dave’s eyebrows
shot up.

‘You’re a rock
fan?’

‘Strictly old
school of course. Which is more appropriate Black Dog or The
Immigrant Song?’

‘How about
Smoke On the Water?’

Engineer waved
a hand and music rolled across the vale.

‘Oi, no
Stairway,’ said Dave. Engineer ignored him and waved his hand
again.

The
multi-coloured columns returned to the graphic.

‘These
creatures are returned.’ Engineer gestured and the bright green
column shrank to nothing.

‘Their remains
go with them.’

The carpet of
broken spider bodies disappeared, leaving behind the dead and
injured defenders.

‘Why is the
holding buffer full?’ asked Engineer, ‘Why are there spiders and
what looks like a human in there?’

‘What! A human?
Where?’ Dave leapt forward and studied the graphic.

‘Just there
Trellis. A single human in the holding buffer. I will receive
it.’

The allotments
glowed green.

‘Engineer, let
me down, that’s my daughter.’ Dave was jigging from one foot to the
other.

Engineer
sniffed and looked at the excitement on Dave’s face.

‘You are so
emotional; weak too.’

He gestured
with his hand and Dave flew in a huge arc towards the
allotments.

Dave let out a
yell as he plummeted towards the courtyard. As he got closer he
slowed, hit the ground with both feet, and rolled onto his side. He
picked himself up and ran the last few yards to the surprised girl
standing there.

‘Abbey! You’re
alive.’ Dave picked her up in a huge hug and whirled her
around.

‘Calm down Dad.
I know I shouldn’t have gone without your permission and I have no
idea how I got back. But it’s not a big deal.’

Dave let her go
and stood back.

‘Oh, it so good
to see your face again. It’s been hard these many years.’

‘What?’

‘You’ve been
trapped in the machine for seven years. We all thought you were
dead.’

‘No, it’s just
been a few days. Where’s Mum?’

‘Ah. That’s a
bit of a long story.’

‘What’s going
on? Where are the dogs?’ said Abbey and yelled, ‘Arroooogah.’ It
sounded strange, hearing the Palaver battle cry in a girl’s
voice.

‘They’re busy
right now love. There’s a bit of a situation, what with the
invasion an’ all. Look things changed while you were gone. Your
mother and me … Well, we split up.’

Abbey looked at
Dave. ‘What? But, you were so happy together? How could you?’

‘We can talk
about it later love. Just come with me now, there’s a lot to sort
out.’

‘Sorry?’

‘We just fought
a battle for the allotments, there are dead and wounded
everywhere.’

‘Oh, sorry Dad,
I didn’t know. Are any dogs hurt?’

‘I’m afraid so
love, quite a few.’

‘Right, let’s
go,’ said Abbey and jogged towards the Barbican.

Fergus walked
across the rutted grass towards Boadicea. She was chatting to an
over-weight knight in armour.

‘Boadicea, are
you alright?’

‘I’m fine. It’s
good to see you in armour Fergus Loaf. A warrior at last?’

‘An official
member of the troop.’

‘You are
honoured. Meet my champion, Sir Bran.’

‘Uncle Bran?’
asked Fergus.

‘Fergus?’ said
Bran.

‘What!’ said
Boadicea, ‘He’s your uncle too?’

‘Well yes. What
are you doing here uncle?’

‘Same as you
Fergus, fighting. Damned stupid question.’

‘But that
means…’

‘Yes,’ said
Boadicea, ‘Cousins, we’re cousins.’

‘Damn it
all!’

‘Indeed Fergus,
just as you made warrior.’

Dave and Abbey
trotted across the parkland. They slowed to a walk when they
reached Fergus and Boadicea, who were standing awkwardly next to a
large armoured knight.

‘Hey Fergus,
guess what?’ said Dave.

But Fergus
wasn’t listening. Hit by the other half of the brick, he could only
see two perfect eyes set in the most beautiful face.

‘Abbey? Oh
bloody hell not again.’ Dave shoved Abbey, making her stumble.

‘Sorry what?’
said Abbey looking up from the ground.

Fergus shook
his head then shot forward to help Abbey to her feet. They stared
at each other.

‘That’s enough
of that. Fergus, come over here.’ Dave grabbed Fergus by the
shoulder and dragged him to one side.

‘Dave, she is
the most beautiful woman I have ever –’

‘Shut up. She’s
my daughter and she just hit you with the Glamour. Remember? Like
when you met Boadicea for the first time.’

‘But, she’s
your daughter?’

‘I know, she
got it from her mother’s side.’

‘Then…’

‘That’s right;
I married a beautiful Tuatha De Daanan called Maeve. So I know all
about the Glamour.’

‘Oh right.’

‘So step
lightly Fergus Loaf, or I will tread heavily upon you.’

‘Understood
Dave.’

‘Hey Dad,’
shouted Abbey. ‘When are we going to rescue Mum? Some of the dogs
want to come.’

Engineer
appeared out of thin air right in front of Dave. Everyone flinched
and Fergus gave a squeak.

‘Such a
pathetic scene and yet not all debts are paid.’

‘So you’re
going to give the Murgatroyds what’s coming?’ asked Dave.

‘Unfortunately
no. I am constrained by ancient principles and agreements, but I am
still owed a life. I like you Trellis, but you can’t break a
deal.’

Engineer
gestured and Dave disappeared.

‘Dad!’ yelled
Abbey. ‘What have you done with him?’

Fergus leapt at
Engineer and was thrown backward before he got within six feet.

‘Bring him
back!’ shouted Fergus.

‘He is not
dead. I have sent him where he may find what he ultimately seeks,
yet the possibility of suitable retribution remains high. I go. Do
not disturb me again.’

Engineer
disappeared, leaving the little group bewildered and forlorn on the
ripped turf of the latest battlefield for the continued existence
of earth.