Nostradamus Ate My Hamster (16 page)

“Thank you,” Russell gasped. “Thank you for warning me. We’ll have to get to a phone, call an ambulance ourselves.”

“Are you kidding?”

“He could bleed to death.”

“He won’t.”

“But –”

“We have to get away, Russell. They’ll kill us. Both of us.”

“All right, do you have a car?”

“No, do you?”

“No, I don’t have one. I wouldn’t have asked you, if I had one.”

“You
should
get one, Russell. Something fast. A bright green sports car.”

“Well, I’ve always fancied a Volvo, they’re very safe. Cage of steel and everything.”

“Volvos are driven by men who wear pyjamas,” said Julie, which Russell tried to picture.

“Waxed jackets surely,” he said. “What’s that sound?”

“What sound?”

“
That
sound.”

That
sound was a sort of grating grinding sound. The sort of sound that a big sliding door makes as it’s being slid along.

“Run,” said Russell.

“Where?” Julie asked.

“With me, I have an idea.” Russell took her by the hand and they ran, round to the car park at the back of Hangar 18. Russell pulled the big glass valve from his poacher’s pocket. “We can use
this
,” he said.

Julie stopped short and gawped at it. “You dirty bastard,” she said. “Is that all men ever think about?”

“What?” Russell stared at Julie and then at the valve. “Oh no, it’s not a … You thought it was a … No, it’s a …” Sounds of loud howling reached their ears. “This way, quickly.”

Russell dragged her to the
Flügelrad
. “Get inside, come on.”

“I don’t think so.”

“There’s no time.” Russell pushed her up the ladder. The SS chap was starting to stir, Russell kicked him in the head. “I’m sorry,” he said, as he followed Julie into the cockpit.

The howlers were now pouring into the car park. And yes, they
did
see Russell.

Inside the
Flügelrad
, Russell fought the valve back into its socket and worried at the controls. “Now, how exactly does this thing work?” he wondered.

“Hurry, Russell, hurry.”

A bottle shattered against the hull. Russell bashed at the control panel.

Julie screamed.

Russell turned. Morgan’s face leered in at the hatch, eyes round, mouth contorted. Russell leapt up and punched Morgan right in the nose. Amidst further howling from the mob, Morgan rapidly vanished from view. Fists now rained upon the
Flügelrad
.

“One of these must close the hatch,” Russell flicked switches, pressed buttons, pulled levers. The
Flügelrad
shook. But not from Russell’s handiwork.

“They’ll turn it over. Out of the way, Russell. Let me do it.” Julie pushed Russell aside, jumped into the pilot’s seat and pushed several buttons. The extendible ladder retracted and the hatch snapped shut.

“Lucky guess,” said Russell. “Now, let’s see if I can –”

“No.” Julie’s hands moved over the control panel, adjusting this, tweaking that, powering up the other. A vibration ran through the craft and a dull hum that grew to a high-pitched whine. Then there was a great rushing sound and after that, nothing but silence.

And much of this silence came from Russell.

Julie worked at the controls, making adjustments, doing this and that. At length she sat back in the pilot’s seat and smiled up at Russell. “We’re on our way,” she said.

“And dare I ask, to where?”

“To the future, of course.”

“Of course.” Russell scratched at his chin. It needed a shave. “Would you care to tell me just what’s going on?”

Julie tossed back her beautiful hair. “All right,” she said. “I’ll tell you everything. Some of it you already know, but not all. I wonder where I should start.”

Russell said nothing.

“Aren’t you supposed to say ‘at the beginning’?”

“No.” Russell shook his head. “Everyone always says that. You start wherever you want.”

“All right. I’ll start with the
Flügelrad
. I’ll bet you’d like to know how I’m able to fly it.”

“The thought had crossed my mind.”

“Well, it’s simple. I know how to, because my father built it.”

“Your father?”

“My stepfather actually, I was adopted. My stepfather is Mr Fudgepacker.”

“Oh,” said Russell.

“Except Ernest Fudgepacker is not his real name. His real name is Viktor Schauberger. He was an aeronautical engineer working for the Third Reich. Adolf Hitler is a friend of the family, you could say.”

“They certainly seemed very chummy.”

“The
Flügelrads
were constructed at the very end of the Second World War. Built under other-world guidance.”

“Other-world? Like, from outer space?”

“More like inner space, but let me explain. Two crafts were completed. One was to take Hitler forward one hundred years. The other was to take a number of military advisors back in time to readvise the German military on where the campaigns had gone wvong before they did, so Germany would win the war.”

“Which it didn’t.”

“Because the other
Flügelrad
malfunctioned. Hitler went off into the future, expecting to step out in glory into a world dominated by the Nazis, but when he got there, it wasn’t.”

“But Bobby Boy said it
was
, or
is
.”

“I’m coming to that. Hitler found that the future was
not
dominated by the Nazis, so he decided to go back in time and find out
why
. But he didn’t want to risk going back as far as the Second World War, so he stopped off here, in the nineteen nineties. He wanted to seek out his old friend Viktor Schauberger and find out what had gone wrong. The craft landed on the allotments and that’s when Bobby Boy saw it.”

“And Bobby Boy got into it and went into the future.”

“And stole the Cyberstar equipment.”

“But Bobby Boy said it was a
Nazi
future.”

“And so it was when he got there.”

“Now hang about,” said Russell. “This is all a bit of a coincidence, isn’t it? I can buy Fudgepacker being Schauberger, but Bobby Boy being the one who finds the
Flügelrad
, and just happens to work for Fudgepacker.”

“Well he would, Russell. Bobby Boy is my stepbrother. He’s Mr Fudgepacker’s son.”

“I thought he was the son of the local brewery owner.”

“Mr Fudgepacker
is
the local brewery owner.”

“What?”

“Mr Fudgepacker owns half of Brentford. Bought with Nazi gold. Hitler knew he’d be here if he was still alive. Fudgepacker was planning to change his identity and move here after the war if the Germans lost. Hitler knew all about it. He set it up.”

“This is getting wilder by the moment. So Bobby Boy knew what the
Flügelrad
was when he saw it.”

“Exactly, and he couldn’t resist getting inside and having a go. He flew into the future and nicked the Cyberstar equipment. He didn’t half get a hiding from the old man when he got back.”

“I thought he got back before he left.”

“He lied about that.”

“Then he probably lied about the Nazi future as well.”

“No, he was telling the truth about that.”

“I’m confused,” said Russell.

“I’m trying to make it as simple as I can. Hitler’s henchmen, the two SS guards, located Mr Fudgepacker. He arranged for me to hide Hitler in the shed behind The Bricklayer’s Arms. Where
you
saw him. Bobby Boy turned up just after you’d gone. And he told his story about being in a Nazi future. Now Mr Fudgepacker put two and two together. The future had
not
been Nazi when Hitler got there, but it
had
when Bobby Boy got there. Why was that?”

“Good question,” said Russell. “Why
was
that?”

“Because Bobby Boy had stolen the Cyberstar equipment and brought it back to the nineteen nineties.”

“I still don’t get it.”

“Mr Fudgepacker told you about the movie. The movie to be made with the equipment. The movie that would change the world. Change the future.”

“Oh,” said Russell. “I see. The stolen equipment from the future would be used to change the future. But surely that can’t be done.”

“Why not?”

“Because it’s plagiarism. They used the same idea in
Terminator 2
.”

“Whatever made you say that?”

“I just thought I’d get it in before anyone else did.”

“Fair enough.”

“So what you’re saying, is, that by going into the future and stealing the equipment that would change the future, the future Bobby Boy went into was a future that had already been changed, by him having stolen the equipment and used it in the then-past, which is our present?”

“Exactly. It’s all so simple when you put it like that.”

“So the movie
will
change the future.”

“With
His
help, it will.”

“This is the
He
I saw on the video, the red-faced insect thing?”

“It was
He
who guided the construction of the
Flügelrad
. The rise of Nazi Germany in the twentieth century offered the first real opportunity for a single man to rule the entire world.”

“Mr Hitler.”

“And if he’d won, it would have happened. Hitler is just a puppet of this creature. It feeds off people, feeds off their time. It swallows up their time, takes their feelings, their emotions. It intends to put something into the movie. Something subliminal, or active in some way that will control the minds of all who watch it. And everyone will want to watch it, they’ll have never seen anything like it before.”

“Good God,” said Russell.

“
Bad
God,” said Julie.

“But is it a god? Or is it from outer space, or inner space, or what?”

“I don’t know exactly what it is. Mr Fudgepacker knows. He’s its guardian. At times it is moved to other places and others guard it. But it always returns to the Emporium. I’ve known of it since I was a child.”

“So aren’t you afraid?”

“Very afraid. That’s why I went along with everything. The making of the movie. Everything.”

“Yes, what about the movie? The one I saw on the videos wasn’t the same one I saw the next day at the screening.”

“It was. You just didn’t think it was. You saw what they wanted you to see. You were hypnotized while you slept. When they dressed your head and changed the safe.”

“They’ve made a right fool out of me, haven’t they? But I’ll have the last laugh. I won’t market their evil movie. I’ll stop it ever getting shown.”

“I don’t know if you can. You see, after you left the party Hitler turned up in the
Flügelrad
. He’d come back from the future. The Nazi future he controls. He’d come back to congratulate Mr Fudgepacker on the success of the movie. It does get shown, Russell, with, or without your help. And it does change the world.”

“Then we’ve got to stop it. Somehow.”

“Oh yes, we have. It’s all so evil. I couldn’t be a part of it any longer.”

“So that’s why you shouted out when Bobby Boy attacked me.”

“You’re the one person I knew I could trust. The one person prepared to stand up to them. You’re the one person I really care about, Russell.”

Julie’s mouth was there to kiss. So Russell kissed it.

The
Flügelrad
flew on into the future.

Explicit things occurred within, which had only previously occurred there on one occasion. And that was in 1955, when a certain Miss Turton of 16 Mafeking Avenue, Brentford, who got a mention at the beginning of Chapter 6, had her brief encounter of the third kind.

The explicit things now, however, occurred with a great deal more gusto and mutual appreciation. Russell gave of his all unstintingly and Julie, for her part, responded in a manner that only an ex-contortionist go-go dancing sex aid demonstrator truly can.

Lucky old Russell.

Then
BANG
! went the
Flügelrad
.

“Did the earth move for you too?” Julie asked.

“Yes,” said Russell. “Ouch.”

There was a curious vibration. Things seemed to go out of focus. Everything double, then merging into one again.

“Is it supposed to do that?” Russell rubbed at his eyes.

“Don’t ask me, I’ve never flown the thing before.”

“That’s comforting.”

“But I think it means we’ve arrived at whenever we’ve arrived at.”

“And so’s that.”

Julie began to put on her clothes. “Come on,” she said. “Let’s get out.”

“Aw, must we just yet?”

“I think we must.”

The ladder extended and the hatch snapped open. Russell stuck his head out and sniffed at the air. Did it smell like home? Well, it smelled of flowers. Spring flowers. Russell climbed up onto the dome and took a look around. The
Flügelrad
had landed in bushes, in the middle of a pleasant park. In the distance rose wondrous buildings of a futuristic nature. Closer, old housing, faintly familiar.

“I think we’ve landed in exactly the same place Bobby Boy landed.” Russell joined Julie back in the cockpit. “Let’s go for a walk and see what’s what.”

“Do you think it will be safe?”

“Not for one minute. But let’s do it anyway.”

Russell helped her down the ladder. The
Flügelrad
was pretty well hidden by the bushes and there was no-one about. It couldn’t hurt to leave it there and take a quick look around.

Of course it couldn’t.

“It’s supposed to be all uniforms and golden dresses here.” Russell examined his appearance. Scruffy, he concluded. Julie looked marvellous. She was still wearing the short black evening number. The one that should have had more than a mention earlier.

“We could try and steal some clothes,” Julie said.

“Oh no. We’re not stealing anything. We’ll go and have a look around, size up the situation. But we won’t get involved in anything.”

“Fair enough.”

They strolled across the park. Julie held Russell by the hand, which made Russell feel proud. Soon they reached the something-strasser.

“Look,” Russell pointed. “It’s The Bricklayer’s Arms. And Bobby Boy told the truth. It has been renamed The Flying Swan.”

“I wonder why.”

Russell shrugged. “I’m sure it will be explained eventually.”

And on they walked.

Folk passed them on the something-strasser, young folk, tall and handsome. But Russell didn’t like the way they moved. So stiffly, so unnaturally. They did not so much as glance at Russell, but they did look twice at Julie.

Ahead, where The Great West Road had once been, they found the mammoth shopping mall. All high glass and chrome, with the souped-up Volkswagens flying around it and landing upon upper platforms.

“Shall we take a look at the shops, Russell?”

“Why not.”

Through the glass revolving doors and into a massive entrance hall. Russell spied out the golden letters that crowned a silver arch, leading to a grand arcade of shops.

THE SCHAUBERGER MEMORIAL MALL

Russell shook his head and they walked on.

And all the shops were there, the ones Bobby Boy had spoken of. The clothes shops and the gift shops and the Adolf Hitler souvenir shops. And the Tandys with the German name.

“That’s the shop,” said Russell. “The one he stole the Cyberstar equipment from.”

“Russell, look.” Julie pointed through the window. Inside children were playing upon the holographic video games. Famous film stars, Cyberstar projections, stood as if in conversation.

And beyond them, standing at the counter …

“It’s Bobby Boy.” Russell stared. “He’s here, now. How can he be here, now?”

As they watched him, Bobby Boy turned from the counter, a parcel in his hands, and began to walk towards the door.

“He’s coming this way.” Russell hustled Julie into a shop doorway.

“Why are we hiding from
him
?”

“Good question.” Russell made to step out and accost the thin man, but at that moment alarms sounded and lights began to flash.

“Best keep a low profile,” said Russell withdrawing once more into hiding.

Bobby Boy passed within feet of them, a frightened look on his long thin face. He took a couple of faltering steps and then broke into a run.

And then came the sounds of a terrible clanking. As Russell and Julie looked on, the two horrendous iron robots went by at the trot in pursuit of Bobby Boy.

“Let’s hope they catch him,” said Russell. “But I don’t understand how –”

“Look.” Julie pointed. Men in black uniforms with swastika arm bands came marching down the mall. They marched into the electrical shop and approached the chap behind the counter.

“Come on,” said Russell. “We’re innocent by-standers. Let’s go in and see what’s on the go.”

Inside the shop, an officer type, with Heinrich Himmler glasses and a bad attitude, was interviewing the counter chap. Russell mingled close to catch an earful.

“He walked into the shop,” said the counter chap, wringing his hands and cringing as he spoke. “He wore the black. Naturally I assumed he was a party member. And he looked at the Cyberstar system and he wanted to know whether the holograms could be made to do anything he wanted. Things not in the movies they’re programmed to re-enact. And so I said, yes of course, sir, and so he said he would take one. But when he eyeballed the screen for retina and iris identification, the alarms went off. He is unregistered. How can this be?”