Renegade T.M. (34 page)

The Humdinger dropped out of warp and arrived outside the gates of heaven. Having chosen valet parking, Pete was a little bemused to see that it was Bob Monkhouse who took the keys from Slip, and having amused Crinkle with a neatly quipped
,
“
nice ride, now what about this Humdinger
,”
off he went. They then made their way to the gates themselves on foot, and approaching Saint Peter, the Renegade gang each introspectively examined what they were actually doing here, and not one of them wholeheartedly believed that they would actually get to speak to God.

“
Hello gentl
emen
,”
Saint Peter greeted them
,
“
and off course, Crinkle, delighted
!”

“
Er, hello Saint Peter
,”
they all chorused in reply.

“
Oh please call me Peter. Now I understand that you would like an audience with the Governor, this is correct yes
?”

“
It is
,”
said Fendel, before asking
,
“
how is it that you know so much about us
?”

“
I am blessed with what you might call, a certain
clairvoyance
, I know everything there is to know about each of you
.”

“
Really
,”
replied Slip dubiously
,
“
then what…
”

“
You’re not wearing any
,”
he answered correctly, before Slip had even finished the question.

“
Brilliant
!”
cheered Slip
,
“
can you do card tricks
?”

“
Later Slip
,”
int
er
r
upted Fendel
,
“
look Peter, we have come a long way.
”

“
Everyone here has come a long way
,”
agreed the saint sagely
,
“
though some have travelled less far to achieve the same destination
.”

“
We went by the Grishan Nebula, then took the hyperway after the Tiny Chef
,”
put in Slip, looking t
er
r
ibly pleased with himself.

“
Erm yes, thanks Slip
,”
said Fendel beginning to feel a little lost
,
“
we are here for an audience with God, can you let us in please
?”

“
Absolutely not
,”
he replied.

“
But why
?”
asked Fendel totally taken aback
,
“you have no
idea how important it is
!”

“
I have every idea how important it is
,”
said the saint
,
“
but only good people are allowed into heaven. Have you any idea how many people you’ve murdered lately Fendel
?”

“
Honestly, I don’t
,”
answered Fendel, running out of fingers as he spoke.

“
I’ll go
,”
announced Slip suddenly.

“
Mmm not sure that’s going to work either
,”
mused Saint Peter.

“
But what about all the good I’ve done in my life
!”

“
If by good, you mean, banging out some solid tunes, then totally, you’d be in already
,”
explained the s
aint
,
“
however this is heaven, not a discotheque, and in the
final analysis, I’m sorry Slip
but ultimately
,
you’re self-absorbed.
”

“
Sorry what
?”
replied Slip, playing with his belly button
,
“
didn’t catch a word of that.
”

“
That leaves just you two
,”
continued Saint Peter, meaning Crinkle and normal Pete.

“
You do it
,”
said Crinkle, before Pete had a chance to protest.

“
But I can’t do it, I’ll only muck it up as usual
!”

“
Well I’m not doing it
,”
she said, an abundant tone of finality in her voice.

“
Why not
?”
he asked seriously.
“
It’s personal
.”

“
Well I’m not doing it unless you explain to me why you can’t
!”

“
Fine, but you won’t like it
,”
she began
,
“
God is perfection right
?”

“
Right
.”

“
And I haven’t straightened my hair
,
right
?”

“
Yeah
.”

“
Well that’s it
,”
she concluded
,
“
self-explanatory really
.”

“
Not with you Crinks
,”
declared Fendel.

“
What’s not to be with
,”
she replied
,
“
I’m not meeting God without perfect hair, period
.”

“
Looks like it’s down to you then Pete
,”
said Slip.

“
I’m really not sure about this guys, I mean I have a track history of abject failure when it comes to
so
many given tasks
!”

“
Ah don’t be so hard on yourself dude
,”
Slip continued, removing his socks as he spoke
,
“
here, you can even wear my lucky socks, I never take them off
!”

“
Think I’ll pass ta
,”
Pete replied turning up his nose.

“
So
,”
began the Saint
,
“
are you coming in or not? It’s really not befitting to keep the Governor waiting
.”

“
You mean to say that God’s actually waiting for me? Right now
?”
asked Pete.

“
Indeed he is
,”
the s
aint replied
,
“
shall I inform him
that
you wish to reschedule
?”

“
No
,
no, it’s just it’s all a bit much
,”
he explained
,
“
okay, see you later gang, I’ve got an appointment to keep
.”

“
See ya Pete
,”
they all shouted after him as he made his way through the gates of heaven
,
“
good luck
!”

And so Pete stepped meekly through the gates of heaven, and with a heavy head, walked on
to attend his meeting with
God.

“
The massive plasma cannon is ready sire
,”
declared one of Mormid’s minions, the same minion that had been ordered to make the cannon ready earlier that day.

“
Excellent
,”
replied Mormid
,
“
are we in orbit of the planet
?”

“
The planet E
arth is directly below us sire, would you like us to target anything in particular
?”

“
Would it make a difference
?”

“
The location targeted would be v
aporised point one of milliping
before the rest of the planet
,”
explained the minion.

“
Can’t say it really matters then
,”
said Mormid
,
“
aim for something shiny then
.”

“
I will lock the target on the mountain range known in earth parlance as the Andes then, the frozen water on its top is particularly good at reflecting light
.”

“
The Andes it is then, fire when target is locked
!”
he ordered, feeling the peculiar delight that only comes from the few moments before causing the destruction of an entire planet and its many varied species.

“
Is there anything else your mightiness
?”
a
sked the minion.

“
There is one thing
,”
began Mormid, feeling unusually awkward
,
“
do you like me
?”

“
You are Emperor of the Co-leen, the rulers of everything, and anything else that may have been missed in the course of ruling everything! I love you with every fibre of my unworthy being
!”
g
ushed the minion.

“
Yes
,
yes, I realise that
,”
he replied, having not quite received the answer he was looking for, before trying a different tack and asking
,
“
what’s your name
?”

“
It’s Crumble sire
,”
answered Crumble.

“
A good proud Co-leen name
,”
decided Mormid
,
“
now Crumble, let’s just say for a moment that I wasn’t the Emperor, and that I was just like you, another nobody, right
?”

“
Okay
,”
said Crumble hesitantly, a pained expression on his face.

“
Then let’s say that I had a f
ew cycles
to kill, and I were to ask you if you fancied a getting a coffee with me, what would you say
?”

“
It would be my deepest honour, your fantasticness
,”
answered Crumble, with a look that suggested he may have just won the interstellar lottery.

“
Even though I wasn’t your Emperor
?”

“
But you are my Emperor
,”
replied Crumble simply.

“
But for the sake of this instance I am not, understand
?”

“
Perfectly
,”
lied Crumble.

“
Good
,”
began Mormid
,
“
let’s roleplay it then, okay
?”

“
Okay
.”

“
Hi, I’m Mormid and I’m
not
the Emperor of the Co-leen, the rulers of everything and anything that may have been missed in the course of ruling everything
.”

“
Hi, I’m Crumble
.”

“
Hey Crumble, and what do you do
?”
he asked.

“
I’m a minion, third class, with fruit and vegetable privileges
,”
replied Crumble.

“
Well that certainly sounds interesting, and do you like your job
?”

“
Actually no, I always wanted to be a
n
accountant, but I can only count up to nine
,”
answered Crumble.

“
How many fingers do you have then
?”
he quizzed, genuinely intrigued.

“
Nine and one
.”

“
Okay, so how many fingers and toes do you have
?”

“
Nine and nine and two
,”
replied Crumble.

“
Well I must say that you really are quite odd
,”
he decided.

“
Thank you sire
,”
replied Crumble, forgetting to stay in character
,
“
my entire being is at your
everlasting
disposal
.”

“
Crumble
,”
he reminded him
,
“
remember I’m not the Emperor for now
.”

“
I’m so sorry
,”
Crumble apologised, dropping to his knees in supplication
,
“
can you ever forgive me
?”

This was hopeless. Mormid tended not to associate himself with any of the countless minions over which he ruled, for one simple reason, they annoyed him. He had
classified them over the ???cycles???
as falling into one of three groups, either they idolised him as a god and could barely function in his presence, (Crumble fell into this category), or they feared him and would only interact if it meant him sparing their lives, or weirdly, they saw him as a kind of moral overseer, and would seek his dark counsel with regard to important social matters such as marriages or funerals. Mormid did not have a preference out of the three, and loathed them all fairly and in equal measure. The last time that he had actually enjoyed the company of
another being, had been when he was not even yet the Co-leen Emperor
. The being in question had ironically been a human by the name of Pete Martin, and though they may not have been what you might call
“
pals
”
, there was an undeniable kinship there, perhaps born of a similar difficult past shared. It was perhaps somewhat strange then, that he was currently enthusiastically engaged in setting up the events that would see to the complete annihilation of the planet earth, the home planet of perhaps his one time, and certainly once only, friend.

“
The target has been acquired your smashingness
,”
announced Crumble, shaking Mormid from his reverie
,
“
the canon will fire in three, two, one…
“

“
Wait
!”
he shouted.

“
Do you wish to abort the firing sequence
?”

Mormid was unsure, a feeling he had not felt for a long while, and one which he had long thought he had disposed altogether on his path to becoming Co-leen Overlord. Why was he about to destroy his friend’s home planet? Okay sure the human race was inferior, but he had so far failed ever to find a species which was deserving enough to share the universe with yet. Perhaps it was his own measure that was at fault, perhaps his apparently ceaseless quest to rid the universe of inferior life, was one that was flawed, and about as meaningful as a chess set without any kings. He paused to mull over his next action, would he let the human race go free and continue its bumbling march into tomorrow, or would he continue the sequence,
and say farewell to the planet E
arth and everything it entailed?