“The rumours of my death have been greatly exaggerated,” said Eddie, padding his way to the centre of the cockpit.[47] “As you can see, I am in remarkably fine fettle. And not too dead at all.”
“No!” And the other Eddie threw up his paws. “This cannot be, it cannot.”
“Well, it can be and it is,” said Eddie, squaring up before his other self. “And personally I think I deserve an award for my acting. I certainly had you fooled. And do you know what? Now that I’m back on my side of the barrier, back in my own world again, I feel fine. I’m as healthy as, and it’s time to set matters straight.”
“Time for you to die properly,” said Eddie’s other self.
“I think not,” said Eddie, making the fiercest of faces. “Now land this craft or know my wrath – I’ll bite your blinking head off.”
“Land this craft?” The other Eddie laughed.
“I really hate it when you laugh like that,” said Eddie Bear.
“Well, it is of no consequence to me. Guards, take this resurrected bear and throw him out of a porthole, or something.”
“Guards?” said Eddie. “What guards?”
“The guards that I summonsed by pressing the special ‘guards’ button next to the ‘autopilot’ button. I pressed them both simultaneously, as it were, when you made your appearance.”
“You fiend,” said Eddie Bear.
“Yes, I can really be a stinker at times.” And the other Eddie laughed once again. And as he did so, chicken guards dressed in figure-hugging golden uniforms (which displayed their breasts to perfection), sleek golden helmets with beak-guards, high-heeled boots and the inevitable heavy weaponry jogged into the cockpit and surrounded Eddie.
“Ah,” said Eddie. “These guards.”
“Out of a porthole with him,” said the other Eddie. “And if his fat belly gets stuck, shoot him up the bottom, that will do the trick.”
“I don’t think that’s a nice idea,” said another voice.
The guards and the other Eddie glanced towards the source of this voice. And Eddie Bear did glancings, too. And Eddie Bear said, “Jack!”
“Nice to see you again, Eddie.” Jack brandished a large gun of his own. He aimed this at the other Eddie. “Let Eddie go,” said he.
“Jack?” said the other Eddie. “Now I’m damned sure that I killed you. You plunged to your death in the elevator.”
“Not quite so.” Jack brandished the large gun some more. Because in such situations as this you can never do too much brandishing of a big gun. He had acquired this particular big gun from a chicken guard at the launch site, whom Jack had taken by surprise and overcome through the employment of a handy spanner.
“I like the uniform,” said Eddie. “Very dapper, it really suits you. Although it smells a bit.” And Eddie smiled as he said this, for his sense of smell had returned.
“Why, thank you,” said Jack. “And you’ve had a wash and brush-up, I see.”
“I’d rather not think about that,” said Eddie.
“Now just stop this nonsense,” said the other Eddie Bear. “You really should be dead!”
“I certainly would have been,” said Jack, “if it hadn’t been for Dorothy here.”
“Hi, Eddie,” called Dorothy.
“Hi, Dorothy,” called Eddie.
Chicken guards swung their weapons about, some aimed at Dorothy, some at Jack and some at Eddie Bear.
“Dorothy is not what she at first appears,” said Jack. “Which I am a little sad about, but we won’t go into that here. But she saved my life, pushed me out of the roof hatch in the lift, helped me cling to a dangling cable, that sort of thing. It was all very exciting.”
“Sounds so,” said Eddie. “It’s a shame I missed it. I spent the time being booted about by your doppelganger.”
“I know,” said Jack. “I felt your pain. I could feel what you were thinking.”
“And I could feel you too, Jack,” said Eddie. “Something to do with my condition on the other side of The Second Big O.”
“Yes, yes, yes,” said the other Eddie, “all very interesting, I’m sure. But how did you get aboard this craft?”
“We sneaked on while Eddie kept you talking,” said Jack. “And now you must ask the guards to drop their guns or I will take great pleasure in shooting you dead.”
“Shoot me dead?” The other Eddie laughed some more.
“Oh, just shoot him, Jack,” said Eddie. “I’m sick of all his laughing.”
“Tell the guards to drop their weapons and land the craft now,” said Jack. “Oh and order all the other ships to turn back, tell them that the mission is aborted.”
“You have no idea what you’re dealing with,” said the other Eddie. “I will not land the craft, I will not abort the mission. In fact.” And he swung about in his chair and disengaged the autopilot. And also swung the steering wheel, which caused the craft to swing.
And chicken guards went tumbling and so did Eddie and Jack.
And Dorothy went tumbling, too.
The other Eddie didn’t tumble; he was strapped into his chair.
But he put the craft through a triple roll and the tumblers whirled all about.
“Kill them all!” shouted the other Eddie. “Fly, you foolish guards. Fly and shoot them, toss them off the ship.”
And squawking guards went fluttering.
And unpleasantness occurred.
“Such a pleasant night,” said Wellington Bellis, his perished arm now tight about Amelie’s waist. “Such a night for romance.”
“Calling all cars. Calling all cars,” the radio crackled in Bellis’s parked police car.
“Calling all cars?” said Wellington Bellis. “Now what might this be, I wonder?” And he detached himself from Amelie and shuffled over to the car, reached in through the open window and took up the toy microphone that was attached by a length of string to the dashboard. “What is all this commotion?” he said into it.
“Sir, sir – is that you, sir?”
“It’s me, yes. Is that you, Officer Chuckles?”
“Special Officer Chuckles, yes sir. Calling all cars, I am.”
“And why are you calling all cars?”
“Because we are under attack, sir, from spaceships. They just blew up the remains of the old Toytownland sign. Half a dozen spaceships, sir, flying towards the city.”
“Have you been drinking, officer?”
“Of course I’ve been drinking, sir.”
“And where are you calling from?”
“From Tinto’s Bar, sir – I’m looking out of the back windows. The saucers are coming. We’re all gonna die. I’m converting to Mechanology. Out.”
“Out?” asked Bellis.
“Out,” said the voice of Tinto. “This is my telephone and it’s for use-of-barman only. Aaagh! Stop hitting me!”
“Flying saucers?” said Bellis.
And suddenly there they were.
Large as life in the Toy City sky. Great big saucers with blinking lights. The lead craft doing a sort of victory roll, the others flying steadily.
Bellis reached into his car and pressed buttons on his dashboard. “Action stations. Fire at will. Operation Save Our City is go!” And then he replaced the microphone and smiled towards Amelie. “Have no fear, my dear,” said Bellis. “Everything is under control.”
“The End Times are upon us,” gasped Amelie. Huskily. Sexily.
“Not a bit of it,” said Bellis, re-establishing himself at her side and offering her a comforting hug. “All will be attended to. I received a tip-off this morning from a clockwork spaceman. He told me an extraordinary tale, which I did not at first believe … Oh, duck, if you will.”
And Amelie ducked as a bolt of light swept down from above and carbonised Bellis’s car.
“As I was saying,” said Bellis, “an extraordinary tale. But I felt it prudent to take it at face value. So I put the Toy City Army on red alert. They’ll soon shoot those aliens out of the sky.”
“My hero,” said Amelie.
And the words of Bellis were no idle words. Well, he hadn’t risen to his present position of power through not being able to rise to the occasion. In fact, he intended to rise to the occasion with Amelie, quite shortly, when all the mayhem was over and done with.