Skid3 by sam


 Welcome to SKID3


 What is SKID3?


 SKID3 is an electronic book, the 'threequel' to the electronic novel SKID. 
Read it, pass it onto your friends, anybody that might be interested, everyman 
and his dog. If you like what you read and want to check out what happened in 
the the first novel download it from my home page or email me for a copy. 
SKID2 the second novel in the series is also available at no cost. However if 
you want to send me a small donation to reflect our efforts in bringing these 
programs to you I won't refuse them.


 Published By Keith Fenwick PO Box 90312 Auckland New Zealand


 mailto: sam@iprolink.co.nz. homepage http://home.iprolink.co.nz/~sam/ ph 


(064) 025 748 571 
Copyright (C) Keith Fenwick 1997 
This publication may not be reproduced, transmitted,transcribed, stored in a 
retrieval system, or translated into any other language or computer language, 
in any form or by any means, whether it be electronic, mechanical, magnetic, 
optical, manual or otherwise, without prior written consent of Keith Fenwick.


 While Keith Fenwick undertakes to supply a viable software package he 
disclaims all warranties as to this software, whether express or implied.


 one


 Raele walked over to the ship's controls and set a course for Skid while 
the three offworlders stared wordlessly at each other.


 "What do you think you're doing?" President Mitchell asked, the first to 
break the spell as Sue and Bruce regarded the familiar surroundings.


 "Those dreams Bruce, they were real." Sue said a last.


 "Yeah," Bruce grunted ambiguously, not really knowing what to think or 
say. He did feel as if he'd been here, or some other place like this before, 
and wondered how that could have been.


 "We are returning to my planet."


 "Don't forget us!" Cop pleaded.


 Bruce thought about it for a moment and then decided to ask the alien, 
after all the alien had asked after them.


 "My dogs want to come as well, can we pick them up?"


 "Is this some sort of conspiracy on your part mister?" President Mitchell 
asked, "do you know this man?"


 "Sort of," Bruce said uncertainly, "we've dreamed about him."


 Raele looked up from his work and wondered whether he should risk trying 
to re establish the offworlders memories of his home planet. Those memories 
were stored in small transparent bubbles that he now held in his hand. Under 
normal circumstances they would have been returned to storage on Skid and 
probably forgotten for ever, luckily for him or them? These weren't normal 
times.


 His only problem was remembering which bubble belonged to which 
offworlder. Or was it, these offworlders were so simple that it probably 
wouldn't matter he decided after a moment.


 Raele gave the bubble marked with an 'x' to the male offworlder and the 
other to the female who had just realised she had left something behind.


 "Bruce!" She shrieked suddenly recalling little Bruce. "What about the 
baby?"


 "What about the baby?" 



 "Can we go back and get my baby?"


 "Baby?" Raele tested the word in his mouth and realised that the 
offworlder was talking about an infant. He was about to regard her with his 
normal distaste, rearing your own infants indeed! Then he remembered that 
before long some of his own people would be producing their own offspring. It 
might be a good idea to have somebody about the place who knew how to deal 
with them.


 "Yes we can retrieve your infant," Raele replied reasonably and your 
companions," he added turning to Bruce. "But first you must place this in your 
ear." Raele demonstrated what he meant the offworlders to do with the bubble.


 "What about me?" The President asked. He was used to being the centre of 
attention whether he was being supported, congratulated or attacked by any 
number of detractors, and was feeling a bit left out of things.


 Bruce sniffed the little bubble he had been given and wondered why he was 
supposed to stick it against his ear. Bloody thing wouldn't fit into his ear, 
it was too big. To his surprise when he did place the bubble to his ear it 
seemed to shrink and slip into his head of it's own accord. Frantically Bruce 
tried to pull it free panicking that the alien might have slipped him, 
something noxious, and cursed himself for being so gullible.


 Then the memories flooded back and the bubble slipped out of his ear and 
fell to the ground looking like a used condom.


 Bruce felt as if somebody had slipped another chapter of the book that 
was his life into his ear. Suddenly everything made sense, it didn't make him 
any happier that everything suddenly made sense but he was relieved by the 
sense of knowing.


 He looked across at Sue and watched his own emotions mirrored on her face 
as she realised that she wasn't going crazy after all.


 "Fuck," Bruce muttered trying to make some sense of the unusual disorder 
in his head as he tried to rank experiences and memories. His head whirled and 
he reached out for support. Out of the corner of his eye he saw that Sue had 
fallen to the ground and that the President was standing over her trying to 
draw her back to her feet. I hope one of those bloody great vacuum cleaners 
doesn't come and suck me up Bruce thought with some alarm as he slowly 
regained the use of his limbs and stood upright.


 "You all right?" He asked Sue solicitously not knowing whether to laugh 
or cry as he remembered the good times, the despair and frustration of the 
time he had spent on Skid.


 It wasn't really all that bad he thought after a moment and silently 
remonstrated with himself that he had not made better use of his time back 
then. But what exactly he could have done better he didn't know yet.


 "Oh Bruce." The voice inside his head that sounded like his own but 
wasn't called out to him. Bruce thought it sounded a lot like the silky ironic 
tone that he used when he was calling one of the dogs close so he could boot 
it in the ribs when it knew without a doubt that it had done something wrong.


 Before he could turn a large hairy shape jumped up at him, causing Bruce 
some alarm until he caught the smell of a dog that had been tied up for too 
long without a decent run. The dogs started barking, well Punch and Can did. 
Cop just looked up at him like a coy child that had just shit it's pants 
despite it's efforts at potty training and said:" Hello boss."


 "Is that really you Cop?"


 "Sure is boss," the dog replied with a wolfish grin.


 Oh shit Bruce thought.


 "Bruce! Are you talking to your dog?"


 "Yeah can't you hear him?"


 "What is this, some kind of nut house?" President Mitchell demand, 
clearly wanting to strike out at something but not sure what at. He'd 
obviously decided that the alien was too tough a target for him to tackle by 
himself and suddenly it appeared that the two people that he should be able to 
count on support from had lost their marbles.


 "Get fucked," Bruce replied with a total lack of awe and respect that the 



President wasn't used to.


 "You can't speak to me like that!" President Mitchell almost screamed, 
"I'm, the president of the United States of America."


 "Do you think that means anything where we're going?


 Raele wondered whether he had made the right decision in


 taking on this leader of mankind. He turned back to the patrol craft's 
controls. Finding the female offworlders infant was a slightly trickier task 
than finding the male offworlders companions. At least one of them had a 
tracking device implanted so they could be located easily.


 As the Patrol craft orbited high above the city where he had recently 
spent so much time Raele did a DNA scan.


 Mrs Pratt was sitting in Sue's living room watching the drama caused by 
the President's disappearance unfold on the television.


 Personally she suspected the Russians were behind the whole thing even 
though the Russians had long since ceased being a threat to anyone. She also 
blamed the Russians when she went into little Bruce's room and found his cot 
empty.


 The police had different ideas, especially when they found her pistol and 
empty cartridge case on the floor of the living room and carted Mrs Pratt away 
to the station. It was several hours later after Ms Clarke and her mysterious 
'fiance' couldn't be located that a possible link to the president's 
disappearance was made. A link that soon led to the authorities visiting a 
local restaurant where they found the drunken proprietor with a fantastic 
story to tell.


 Little Bruce duly turned up on the floor of the space craft and Bruce 
wondered what Mrs Pratt would make of that, aware that unlike last time their 
disappearance would certainly be noticed this time, even as he wondered how it 
hadn't been last time.


 Raele just shrugged his shoulders in the Skidian way when he had asked 
and Bruce now knew enough not to bother pressing him for an answer.


 President Mitchell seemed to have settled down for the moment and sat in 
on the side of the corner of the room with his head in his hands. Sue sat 
further away with little Bruce suckling at her breast and Raele was headed for 
another wall where Bruce thought the accommodation area must be. Bruce looked 
at the three dogs that lay together not too far from his feet. Can and Punch 
had the usual expectant grins on their faces while Cop just looked at him 
expectantly.


 "They are stupid," he seemed to say.


 "Are you really talking to me?"


 "You bet your black arse." Cop still hadn't quite got to grips with the 
English language yet but he was working on it.


 "How come?" Bruce asked squatting in front of the dog.


 "Dunno really," Cop replied.


 "Hmmp." Bruce didn't really know how to handle the idea of a dog being 
able to communicate telepathically with him, especially one as cocky as Cop 
appeared to be. True to form the Skidians seemed to have done something 
carefully and precisely that made no sense at all.


 "What are they going to do with us son?" President Mitchell asked tiredly 
from where he sat against the wall.


 "Dunno mate, dunno at all." Bruce was well used to the oblique way that 
the Skidians operated. It had always frustrated him. Now that he had got his 
memory back, Bruce took a more benign view of those events.


 "Has whatshisface said anything to you?"


 "He muttered something about how I was a leader of men and he would be 
interested in talking to me some more about the development of self governing 
communities. I may be a politician but I don't know much about that sort of 
stuff. I'm a businessman doing my best to uphold the expectations of others 
and get some sanity back into our economy."


 "Well it's not actually a bad place to stay, apart from the fact that you 
don't want to be there in the first place." Bruce realised for the first time 



that it was the fact that he was on Skid against his will that had made his 
stay so unpalatable, that and being told that he'd never return home. That he 
had actually got back home was an additional complication that Bruce didn't 
want to bother himself with for the moment. "And if you get comfortable with 
the idea that despite what they say they want you to do, the Skidians will do 
their best to make sure you fail."


 "Sounds like what experience I have as a politician will stand me in good 
stead then, is this place really called Skid?"


 "Yep really."


 "You say that you have been there before?" Mitchell asked.


 "I reckon so, Skid is a really weird place," added Bruce, without 
elaborating much to the disgust of Mitchell. "Didn't remember until I stuffed 
that little plastic ball in my ear though."


 "You mean you didn't know until then?" Mitchell asked incredulously.


 "Well I dreamt about things that I couldn't understand, "Sue piped up. 
Like Bruce now that she actually remembered everything she felt much happier. 
Finding herself on a Skidian space ship again didn't really trouble her unduly 
now that she and little Bruce, she and big Bruce for that matter were 
reunited.


 Mitchell shook his head sadly and withdrew into his corner wondering how 
he was going to survive this latest crisis in his life.


 two


 Bruce spent much of the journey wondering where the rest of the crew was 
only to be told by Raele that there were none. Bruce had been looking forward 
to seeing some of his old friends, Cyprus and Mulgoon, maybe even Toytoo. 
Raele said maybe.


 To Bruce's surprise Raele also showed him how to operate the patrol 
ship's flight controls. He was so absorbed with learning that it never 
occurred to him as to why Raele might be providing him with a possible escape 
route.


 Apart from that, the trip to Skid was uneventful. Mitchell kept himself 
to himself apart from venting his fury at losing his clothes to a large robot 
as he had a shower and grumbling about the standard of food.


 Bruce thought that the man had a truly bemused look about him and was 
about to make a disparaging remark about the intellectual calibre of the 
American President when Sue reminded him that he had worn a similar bemused 
look himself for much of the first few weeks that he had spent on Skid.


 "It's just shock that's all," she said, "culture shock they call it."


 "I seem to recall that you weren't too happy either," Bruce retorted. But 
he was also uncomfortable in his new knowledge that at times Sue had handled 
their previous sojourn on Skid better than he had. This time it will be 
different he assured himself without having any idea how different it would 
be.


 Immediately they stepped off the patrol craft at the space port in 
Sietnuoc Bruce realised that something was different, sensed as Raele had, 
that something was definitely wrong.


 The space port was empty for one thing, their own patrol craft was the 
only one evident in the vast open space and the subdued murmur that Bruce 
later associated with the hustle and bustle of an incredibly large city was 
gone. The only sound was that of their own footsteps on the cobbles as they 
made their way from the patrol craft to the port buildings. The dogs were 
subdued also sensing there was something wrong and stayed close to Bruce, 
dogging his heels.


 "There's nobody here at all," Cop told him.


 "There must be!" Bruce thought back. On the trip to Skid he had found 
that Cop could read his thoughts just as readily as he could hear them. Bruce 
was thankful for that because he felt a little silly talking to the dog and 



the sidelong looks he got from Mitch and Sue made him feel even sillier.


 "There's nobody here you halfwit!"


 Bruce aimed a kick at the cheeky dog but Cop easily skipped out of his 
reach.


 "Don't you ever leave those dogs alone?" Sue protested on their behalf.


 "Only when they're not having me on," he replied ambiguously.


 "What happened here?" Sue asked. To her the city looked the same. It took 
her a while to put a finger on what was nagging at her. It wasn't just the 
lack of people it was that the city looked more ordered than she remembered, 
as if the lack of people somehow made the place tidier, or if it was new like 
an upmarket new housing subdivision, just before all everybody moved in.


 "Where is everyone?"


 "You mean there's nobody here?" Mitch asked.


 "Well what does it look like Mitch, do those robots over there," Bruce 
pointed to a service crew that seemed to be tidying up a small park," look 
like people to you?"


 "Do you need to be so rude Bruce?" Sue asked coming to Mitch's aid. It 
infuriated her how Bruce always seemed to expect people to understand what was 
obvious him. "Perhaps they're on holiday Mitch," she suggested.


 Bruce guffawed at the very idea. Sue was sure that the dog called Cop 
sniggered at her and gave her a knowing look. She thought for half a minute 
that the dog could understand what they were saying but then dismissed the 
idea. Bruce she knew wasn't beyond creating an elaborate ruse just for fun. 
Who ever heard of a talking dog?


 "Who ever heard of a brainy female?" Sue heard the words as clearly as if 
they had been spoken. She looked for Bruce but he was too far away now and her 
gaze rested on Cop.


 "I always thought you were a strange dog," she said.


 "You don't know how strange," Cop said trotting away.


 Raele was beginning to worry. What had happened to the craft that had 
been parked at the space port? They couldn't just have vanished. The service 
crews must have parked them somewhere else. Raele hoped they had been parked 
somewhere else. He had been planning to leave his patrol craft at the space 
port and use a smaller craft for the short journey to Aotearoa but now decided 
that he'd better go in the bigger craft so that he could escape the planet if 
he needed to one. As if parking it at Aotearoa would be totally secure.


 "This is um, Inel's office isn't it? " Bruce asked as Raele led them into 
an empty room.


 "Yes."


 Bruce was quite looking forward to meeting the old boy again and was 
stunned to find that like most of the rest of the Skidians he was dead.


 Raele showed the computer history that had dutifully recorded the events 
of the past few months on Skid which left his offworld audience speechless.


 "I don't believe it, surely some of them survived."


 "Some of them did," Raele replied," but not very many," he added without 
elaborating.


 "I thought the city was wrecked? " Mitch asked.


 "It was, but the service crews have almost rebuilt them, they are 
operating as they always have," Raele replied, not having any idea how the 
service crews operated. Like everything else on the Skid he had always known 
they were and had been for all time. He guessed that once he had a chance to 
work his way through all of Inel's secret archives he might find the answer, 
if he lived that long as the record base was enormous.


 For a moment he wished his old friend Yarad was still alive, he would 
have known what to do, would have been in rapture over getting access to these 
records. Sadly Yarad had been disinfected by Raele himself when he had 
destroyed the nest of subversives at Aotearoa on Inel's orders.


 To Bruce and Sue who had experienced Skid as it was the scale of the 
disaster was beyond their comprehension. Mitch, who was almost totally 
disorientated by this stage, didn't know what to believe. Though what he could 



see of the records over the shoulders of Sue and Bruce, and Raele who stood 
around the console over which the words scrolled were certainly impressive.


 "So who is in charge around this place?" He asked feeling that a direct 
plea to the leader of this planet might ensure his speedy return to earth. 
Mitch shuddered to think what was happening back there, not only would the 
economy be in turmoil, all the policies and deals that he was working on would 
go out the window if Wilmot was in control. Wilmot was window dressing, Wilmot 
as President would be a puppet in the hands of any skilled operator and there 
were more than enough in Washington.


 "When I left, I was acknowledged as the hereditary leader of Skid by two 
of the surviving communities."


 Mitch's shoulders slumped. He landed in a bigger mess than his own 
domestic situation if he understood what the strange alien was saying.


 "So what do you want me to do about it?"


 "You're supposed to work that out yourself," Sue told him.


 Bruce cringed, Sue had voiced his thoughts exactly. Although he didn't 
think it was all that polite to say so in front of Raele, whatever he might 
think of the Skidians themselves.


 "If the Skidians had listened to us they would never have got into this 
mess," continued Sue without feeling.


 Bruce waited for Raele to say something but he merely sat impassively 
staring at the words over the console.


 "Is this true?"


 Bruce shrugged his shoulders and walked away, he couldn't be stuffed 
getting into some sort of philosophic arguments or dwell on the failure of the 
Skidians to recognise the danger they were in and do something to prevent the 
inevitable. He felt sorry for Raele, the disaster probably hadn't had anything 
to do with him and here he was left to pick up the pieces, but he also felt a 
secret glow in his heart that his predictions of a few months previously had 
proved correct.


 It was a hollow victory. Perhaps if he had tried harder the catastrophe 
that had befallen Skid might never have happened.


 On the other hand he realised the natural conservatism of the Skidian's 
meant that even their leaders were incapable of acting until it was far too 
late.


 "We tried to help, Bruce tried to set up farms so they could eat. . .." 
Bruce heard Sue say across the other side of the room to Mitch.


 "And they didn't listen?" Mitch asked, he was familiar with the thankless 
task of trying to help people only to have all his efforts thrown back in his 
face. Maybe I won't find this place all that different from home afterall, he 
thought. Though there was no denying despite all the associated problems, 
continual setbacks and disappointments where he would rather be.


 "The synplants and all that sort of stuff are working ok?" Bruce asked 
Raele.


 "Yes."


 "Synfood?"


 "Yeah Mitch, you know that stuff you ate on the space ship, well that's 
the sort of crap they eat here. It was because they broke down, don't ask me 
how, that everything fell apart. It's odd that they've just started working 
all by themselves if you ask me."


 "Not entirely." Raele wasn't happy with the way the offworlders were 
talking about Skid, as if he wasn't there, as if the great civilisation he had 
known most of his life was no more, even if they were right.


 "What do you mean Raele?"


 "My father rebuilt your organic plant after he charged me with returning 
you to your planet."


 Bruce wasn't interested in the fact that Inel was Raele's old man so 
much, but the prospect of seeing his farm immediately got his attention.


 "You mean Inel was your father?" Bruce asked wondering whether he should 
change his appraisal of the old man who had always seemed disinterested and 



difficult.


 "Yes."


 "Can we go out there and have a look?"


 Mitch didn't know that he was all that keen on flying about this odd 
planet, however it looked as if he had little choice in the matter. Bruce and 
Sue were obviously keen to go and it seemed that Raele was prepared to take 
them especially when he realised that the place they were headed for was out 
in the hinterland somewhere. The wilderness had an ominous sound to it. Mitch 
would have much preferred to stick around the city, he was comfortable in 
cities and had a sneaking suspicion he had some kind of phobia about open 
areas. It hadn't been a problem in recent years as he was continually 
surrounded by Secret service agents and other hangers on. In the days before 
he had achieved any sort of prominence he had always had an aversion to open 
areas.


 He didn't realise that this disquieting sensation gave him a strong 
affinity with most Skidians that he would never have believed possible. He 
also harboured the faint hope that somehow he would find somebody, some way of 
getting back to earth before it was too late, before he was forgotten and he 
felt that sticking around the city was probably his best chance of that 
happening.


 Still when the others started back in the direction of the space ship, he 
followed them. He didn't want to be left behind by himself either. The other 
three showed little interest in him and he sensed that they didn't give a shit 
whether he was with them or not.


 Raele was relieved to find the patrol craft where he had left it and none 
of the service crews in evidence. He had worried all the way back from Inel's 
office that a service crew might have removed it, or tampered with the 
navsystem system or devised some other trick to annoy him. He completed his 
preflight check more carefully than usual and found to his relief that 
everything seemed normal. Though for the first time he began to question who 
or what actually was in, had always been in control of Skid.


 The idea that machines, the service crews and their central control 
system might actually run Skid and not Skidians as they had always believed 
frightened and disgusted Raele. Part of him, the part that said that Skid and 
Skidians were superior to anything else in the universe because that's what 
he'd been brought up to believe, refused to accept that Skid was run by 
machines and the Skidians were merely there to give them something to look 
after.


 They'd developed and built the machines at some point in the past, hadn't 
they?


 But the part of Raele, that secret, hidden part that had always 
questioned, always wanted to know why, said that the dependency Skidians had 
on the machines that provided for all their needs was probably almost as 
destructive to Skidians as if the machines were really running Skid. He 
couldn't really believe that the service crews were operating on their own. 
They must be following a preset program, what continued to worry him, was who 
or what was in control of that program.


 Suddenly the prospect of living the rest of his days at the organic plant 
and never leaving it again seemed more attractive to Raele than it ever had.


 three


 Bruce wondered why he had never thought of hijacking one of the patrol 
ships before as piloting one was just like playing space invaders. He 
blissfully ignored the fact that he would never have got even close to one of 
them previously. He also ignored the probability that even if he had got 
aboard he would just as likely have blown the space port and himself to bits 
rather than getting off the ground, let alone manage to get back to earth.


 Raele had shown him what most of the controls did, showed him how to set 



a course to anywhere on Skid and back to earth, but nowhere else. Raele had 
also suggested that he not fiddle with various knobs and buttons on one side 
of the console in a most un Skidlike manner. This was like a red rag to a bull 
to Bruce who suspected they must control the ships weapons systems and he 
itched to give them a try.


 Bruce enjoyed piloting the space craft, though he was looking forward to 
seeing what had become of his farm even more. He felt as if he was coming 
home after a long trip away, which after he thought about it for a moment felt 
odd. Odd because not so long ago he hated the place, hated the planet and the 
people that inhabited it. Now he felt some sort of proprietary interest in 
what was happening there as if it was his and not the property of those that 
lived there. He wondered if he would feel the same way if he ever got back to 
his real home again. He thought about that possibility for a moment and found 
to his surprise that going home or not going home didn't seem to mean as much 
to him as he believed it once had.


 Bruce shook his head in disbelief. It was as if whatever bound him there 
had been shattered, the chains broken. If he did ever go back home his 
homecoming would certainly be different. While his absence had not been 
missed before, this time his departure had been far more public.


 It wasn't hard to conjure up a vision of Trev being grilled by the 
thought police, or of Mrs Pratt who must be having a hard time explaining the 
disappearance of little Bruce.


 In the distance Bruce could see the meandering line of trees that marked 
the river beside which he had built his home on Skid, more correctly the house 
that had been built for him. He thought he recognised the line of low hills 
close to the farm and looked around nervously for Raele.


 How did you land these things? He wondered. He needn't have worried. As 
the patrol craft skimmed over the trees the farm came into view and after 
making a circuit of the farm it descended, slowed and landed gently beside the 
barn all without any input from Bruce who was left wondering whether he had 
actually been in control at all.


 During the circuit Bruce had seen people running towards the house from 
various points about the farm and wondered why they would do that. None of 
them had turned up where the craft had landed, though as he walked outside 
behind Raele he could see some Skidians looking down the hill at them. That 
struck him as a little strange. But he was more interested in the farm which 
from the air looked much as he'd left it.


 Looking around where they had landed Bruce wasn't so sure. The garden 
they had so carefully planted and tended looked like a wilderness and the 
fence around it sagged as if something had tried to jump over it and landed on 
it instead.


 Bruce wrinkled his nose distastefully, the place had an air of sad 
neglect, like a rental house, where nobody really cared about the place 
because it wasn't their's.


 The dogs ran out of the space ship and reacquainted themselves with their 
old stamping ground as Sue and Bruce followed Raele up the hill towards the 
house.


 Mitch stood uncertainly at the door of the space ship and looked out. 
Nobody had told him anything so he wasn't sure what he should be doing. Should 
he follow the others or stay put? He could see some people peering down the 
hill at them and wasn't sure whether they were friendly or not. They didn't 
look too happy, some looked as if they were brandishing objects that looked 
very much like weapons.


 Fear of being left behind made Mitch move and the door closing behind him 
as he stepped out made the move final. He trotted off after the others as fast 
as his out of condition body would allow him and came abreast of them puffing 
and coughing wondering if he had the energy to make the climb up the hill.


 Raele recognised most of the people standing on the hill and saw them 
relax as soon as they realised who it was. Perhaps they have had other less 
welcome visitors he decided, wandering bands of desperate Skidians looking for 



food and shelter or maybe more formidable, more demanding visitors from the 
better appointed industrial complexes. Maybe the likes of Mischief had learnt 
of his absence and decided to test the limits of their power.


 At the top of the hill beside the house Raele was greeted by the 
Aotearoians with the sort of reverence Bruce thought might be akin to that of 
the second coming of Jesus. Bruce shrugged his shoulders and wandered off down 
the race to see what had become of his farm.


 Sue headed for the house without asking anybody and saw to her surprise 
that the house was much bigger than she remembered and there were several 
other buildings there as well. The original homestead was almost a small 
village now. She stood there for a moment wondering where she could go to feed 
the baby and find something to use as a nappy because the one little Bruce now 
wore ponged a fair bit and headed for the main house.


 If Mitch had felt lost before, it was even worse now. For years, wherever 
he had been he had been the focus of attention.


 Whether he be at a football game, a dinner or some kind of meeting he had 
always been the most important person at any gathering. Now as well as being a 
stranger in a very strange land he felt as lost as a boy on his first day at 
school. He thought about following Sue, but he decided correctly that she was 
looking for a private place to feed her baby. He didn't know what Bruce was up 
to, but he was already too far away to chase so he simply sat where he was and 
waited for something to happen.


 This was another indication of his depressed state, Mitch had always been 
a doer, never one to stand back and wait for things to happen, he felt totally 
beaten down.


 Mitch felt that he was almost on the verge of crying and looking for a 
weapon to do himself a mischief with, when he felt a tap on his shoulder.


 "Is there anything you require good sir?"


 Mitch looked up in surprise and found a woman? A Skidian that looked like 
a woman towering over him anyway.


 "I beg your pardon?"


 "Do you require any sustenance, something to drink?" The Skidian female 
asked with elaborate formality.


 The thought of something to eat and drink perked Mitch up slightly. 
Surely they would have something decent to eat here? Then he remembered what 
Bruce had said earlier about their food and he shook his head.


 "Something to drink perhaps?"


 "That would be great, thankyou," he replied wondering what she would 
bring down. He was sure that the Skidian was a she now, because as she 
straightened up a gust of wind caught her loose shirt and revealed a large 
breast.


 Despite his despair Mitch felt an urgent sexual desire of the like that 
he'd not experienced in months. Even though there were many opportunities to 
slake his legendary sexual drive in his life he been almost celibate in the 
past months. With his administration performing badly as it lurched from 
crisis to crisis, always reacting finding it increasingly difficult to be 
proactive, his own popularity sagging and assailed on all sides by what he 
generally termed the forces of evil and greed a burden almost to great to 
bear, his libido had declined proportionately.


 He had seen the arrival of the alien as a possible solution to all his 
problems. With the election coming up the sort of sideshow that the alien 
could provide if properly handled could deflect attention away from the really 
important issues that faced the nation. Mitch chuckled at the thought that he 
would be remembered as the only United States President to be kidnapped by an 
alien.


 Perhaps that would overshadow the fact that his achievements as president 
had been limited.


 Mitch heard somebody behind him and looked up to see the Skidian woman 
looking down at him with a worried expression on her face.


 "Are you all right?" She asked. 



 "Yes thankyou."


 The woman set the tray she was carrying on the ground, poured the 
contents of a large pitcher into a glass and handed it to Mitch.


 "What is it?" He asked.


 "I don't know," the woman shrugged her shoulders as if she didn't care 
either.


 Mitch sniffed contents of the glass and found to his surprise that it 
smelt like beer. He sipped some of the liquid and found that it also tasted 
like beer. Mitch couldn't remember the last time he'd had the time to simply 
sit down and relax with a beer and nothing better to do. Maybe things won't be 
so bad here afterall he thought.


 "What's your name dear?" He asked after noticing that the woman was still 
kneeling beside him.


 "Mistril." Mistril replied sullenly, unhappy that Raele had commanded her 
to resume her role of concubine to this offworlder, a life she believed was 
behind her forever.


 "Mistril, that's a nice name," Mitch said carelessly, the politician in 
him coping easily with the need to make small talk no matter how he felt.


 He took another swallow of beer and though he was in another world his 
natural hospitality showed through.


 "Are you going to have a drink as well?"


 The offworlder astonished Mistril. She had been wondering what strange 
and demeaning sexual preferences she might have to accommodate from him. Now 
he was offering her a drink which was something none of her Skidian partners 
had done while they performed all manner of humiliating indignities on her.


 Mitch watched Mistril walk away in the direction of what he thought must 
be a house of some kind and wondered sadly what he had said to make the woman 
disappear so suddenly.


 He was still trying to work out what he had said wrong when he saw the 
woman coming back with another tray, glass and pitcher. He was pleased at the 
appearance of another pitcher of beer, it was good stuff.


 Mistril sat beside him, replenished Mitch's glass and after filling her 
own picked up what looked like a tobacco pouch and rolled them both a 
cigarette each. Mitch had given up smoking years ago and didn't know whether 
he wanted to start again.


 'But what the hell? ' He thought holding the cigarette and watching 
incredulously as Mistril stuck her own cigarette into her left nostril and lit 
it with a glowing metal plug.


 Mitch threw back his head and laughed, laughed harder and with more 
genuine mirth than he could remember in a long time. He fell back and lay on 
the ground his chest heaving unable to speak which must have concerned Mistril 
because she leant over him with the cigarette still dangling from a nostril 
which made him laugh even harder.


 "It's ok," he said holding up a hand, "I'll be ok in a moment," he added 
struggling back into a sitting position and noticing that several Skidians 
from the group around Raele were looking nervously in his direction.


 He lit his own cigarette and inhaled gently. The smoke tickled his throat 
and he immediately coughed. "Excuse me," he said.


 Offworlders! Mistril was disgusted with the offworlders obscenity. But 
then she wondered what it would be like to take agbar in that fashion which a 
life time of conformity prevented her from trying.


 Mitch sat quietly smoking and drinking, wondering what he could say to 
the woman beside him. Despite the store of patter he had developed over the 
years he found that he had nothing to say to Mistril. Not that it seemed to 
matter, she seemed quite content just to sit there.


 Faint angry sounding voices made Mitch stare down at the plain where he 
thought he could see Bruce sadly shaking his head.


 Out of the corner of his eye he saw some of the large cow like animals 
running around chased by two of the dogs. He thought he could hear Bruce 
yelling but it must have been some other noise. 



 After a while Mitch forgot where he was and lay back on the grass. He 
closed his eyes struggling to remember when he had ever felt so peaceful. 
Peaceful! It was peaceful, apart from the sound of the breeze ruffling his 
clothing and shaking the leaves in the trees behind him, he could hear no 
sound at all apart from the quiet murmuring from the Skidians clustered around 
Raele.


 Mitch must have fallen asleep for a while because the next thing he knew 
something damp and smelly was sniffing at his face. Mitch came awake with a 
start as he felt wet a tongue flick his face. He smiled and wondered what 
Mistril was up to because he had just been enjoying a rather erotic dream 
about her. He opened his eyes and found a great brute of a dog standing over 
him, pawing his chest, a dog that smelt as if he had just been for a roll in 
something that had been dead for a while.


 "Fuck off Punch you wanker," Bruce yelled as he slumped down beside Mitch 
and reached over to grab some of Mitch's beer.


 four


 Bruce had high hopes that the Skidians might have learnt something from 
him. As he walked around the farm he realised he should have known better. 
Signs of neglect around the barn and the garden should have warned him of 
worse to come but he had ignored those in his excitement at just being back.


 What he saw had the effect of depressing him even though he knew he would 
be able to put things right in a matter of days. It was only a manner of 
repairing a few fences gates and water pipes and sorting out the mobs of ivops 
that had become all mixed up. It wasn't so much that these things had 
happened, for they were a part of farming. The depressing bit was that nobody 
had bothered attempting to put things right as far as he could see.


 Not to worry, he told himself. It's not your problem. But Bruce couldn't 
get rid of the idea that it was his fault.


 With that in mind Bruce made a half hearted attempt to run the handiest 
mob of ivops into the yards to have a look at them but when they simply ran 
out through some broken railings and into another paddock Bruce gave up in 
disgust.


 Raele must have been joking when he proudly said there were people living 
off the organic plant Bruce thought. Then he remembered that Skidian's didn't 
joke, they just didn't know any better.


 Cop didn't make things any better by apparently deciding that work was 
beneath him now that he could talk to people. Bruce used every threat he knew 
to get the dog to work but Cop just laughed at him and stayed well out of 
reach until Bruce threatened to find a gun and shoot him.


 Cop's response was to laugh and threaten to tell Sue. Then Bruce knew he 
had him licked.


 'What do you think Sue'll do for you? He jeeringly thought and conjured 
up a picture in his mind of him shooting her as well.


 Cop kept quiet while he mulled that one over.


 "Got yourself a girlfriend already Mitch?" Bruce remarked casually wiping 
the froth from his lips, nodding at Mistril and recognising the signs from his 
previous time on Skid.


 "What do you mean?" Mitch asked immediately on the defensive. Was that 
so obvious? He felt vaguely embarrassed about Mistril now and wished she would 
go away. But she stayed and Bruce leered at him knowingly.


 "Don't worry about me Mitch, I won't say a thing." Bruce wondered where 
Leaf might be, he hadn't seen her and decided that she wasn't around anymore, 
otherwise the garden would be in a much better state. 



 Punch had got over his recent reprimand and was now trying to force his 
attentions on Mitch by poking his head over Mitch's shoulder and licking his 
neck.


 "If he annoys you, just whack him one Mitch," Bruce said watching Cop sit 
himself down beside Raele and wondering what he was trying to prove.


 Mitch didn't really want to hit the dog, but he did wish he didn't smell 
so bad. Finally he did hit the dog hard enough to make him move away.


 Punch took the rebuff like the good-natured mutt he was and began to try 
and rub the itch away that he'd hoped Mitch would scratch for him by running 
the side of his head along the ground while he ran at top speed round and 
round and circles. Before too long he grew dizzy and his legs gave away so he 
collapsed in a heap on the ground.


 "Bloody stupid animal," Bruce who had been half watching him muttered. 
"What do you suppose they're on about Mitch?"


 "I've no idea," Mitch said with a total lack of interest.


 "Do you know? " Bruce asked Mistril. Mistril didn't realise for a minute 
that the other offworlder was addressing her and when she did, decided it 
wasn't any of his business.


 "I don't know," she replied shrugging her shoulders in the fashion that 
annoyed Bruce. He knew very well that Mistril knew what was making Raele 
appear so agitated.


 'What are they talking about Cop? ' Bruce thought.


 'Piss off Bruce, ' Cop thought back.


 'I don't care anyhow.'


 'Liar.'


 The bloody dog was right Bruce decided unhappily. Though apart from 
giving him a fucken good hiding or shooting him as promised he didn't see that 
he could do anything about him for the moment.


 "Why did they let you go before?" Mitch asked after a while.


 "I don't really know," Bruce replied. His recollection of the actual 
events leading up to that were rather hazy which wasn't all that surprising 
has he had been pretty pissed at the time. "But now I come to think about it, 
it was a bit odd because we were told we'd never go back."


 "What about this time?"


 "Well Raele hasn't actually said anything, but I think it would be a 
little more difficult this time, I don't exactly think it's a secret that 
we've left."


 "Didn't anyone realise that you'd gone the first time?"


 "Nup, don't ask me how but nobody did."


 Mitch seemed to brood for a moment.


 "What's it really like to live here Bruce? I mean what's it really like?"


 The question surprised Bruce a little. He had the happy knack of 
regarding his past through rose tinted spectacles until some jarring memory 
sobered him for a day or a week at a time. Till thatmoment he'd believed that 
he had a pretty happy time on Skid but Mitch's question had released a flood 
of less happy memories. He hadn't been very happy most of the time he suddenly 
realised. Not happy and filled with a deep sense of failure that somehow he 
hadn't made the best use of his time. It didn't occur to him to wonder how he 
might have done any better given the circumstances.


 Bruce looked over at Mitch, noted his sad expression and wondered what he 
would do if he told him the truth. He decided it wasn't worth totally 
discouraging him right at that moment.


 "Oh, it's not a bad place really, once you get used to it." Though it 
might take you a lifetime to get used to it and the fact that you didn't want 
to be here in the first place, he didn't add.


 Bruce was embarrassed to see tears running down Mitch's face. He might 
have understood how the man felt but that didn't mean he could handle the 
sight of a grown man crying. What was he supposed to do now?


 "What have you been saying to Mitch Bruce?"


 "Nothing at all! ." Bruce insisted to Sue who had snuck up on them. 



 "I bet," Sue retorted knowingly. She dropped little Bruce into Bruce's 
lap, sat beside Mitch and tried to comfort him.


 "Don't worry about Bruce, he's just a negative sonofabitch."


 "I am not."


 "Stop yelling Bruce or you'll wake the baby up." The baby wasn't asleep 
anyway. It seemed to be regarding him with interest. Bruce hoped that the kid 
wouldn't start talking to him like his dog had.


 "It's nothing Bruce said," Mitch sobbed through his tears, "it's just 
that I feel a little overwhelmed that's all."


 "That's all right Mitch, you'll get used to it," Sue lied soothingly. 
"We'll soon find you something to do and you'll feel much better."


 "Something to eat might do him some good as well," Bruce suggested who 
was feeling a little peckish himself.


 "Is that all you can think of Bruce? Mitch is going through a crisis 
here and all you can think of is your stomach!" Sue glared at Bruce angrily, 
daring him to say something. But it was Mistril who spoke.


 "Forgive me," she with a formality designed to conceal her distaste for 
the way the offworlders were behaving. Arguing indeed! That wasn't the way 
things were done on Skid at all. Though as she glanced nervously over to 
where Raele and the others were talking she recognised clear signs that it was 
only strict adherence to the Skidian way that had prevented any sort of 
conflict happening over there.


 "Perhaps you will allow me to provide you with some sustenance. We have 
supplemented our traditional diet with many items produced here at Aotearoa," 
she said proudly.


 This Bruce had to see and he followed Mistril towards the house, closely 
followed by Mitch who had decided that he was hungry.


 Bruce led Mitch out to the veranda which was one place on Skid he did 
have fond memories of.


 "Get a good view from here eh Mitch?"


 "I suppose," Mitch replied apathetically wondering what sort of 
intellectual level he would have to stoop to have a decent discussion with 
Bruce. Besides he decided that looking at Mistril without any clothes on would 
be much more interesting, a thought that perked him up considerably.


 The two of them waited expectantly for something to eat, each consumed by 
his own thoughts. Mitch was thinking about Mistril, Bruce was wondering about 
Mitch, trying to decide whether he was really as odd as he was beginning to 
appear.


 Perhaps he was just upset by the whole business of coming to Skid, Bruce 
decided at length, recalling how angry, how angry and homesick he had been.


 'Oh well not to worry, he'll come right.' Bruce thought he probably would 
if he ever got anything to eat around the place.


 Bruce thought he could smell something cooking, he could smell something 
anyway. He was about to go into the kitchen to see what Mistril was up to when 
she appeared pushing a trolley laden with bowls and plates.


 "About time," he muttered ungratefully and then realised what it was he 
could smell. It was the smell of the dog's old bones around their kennels. A 
pong almost as bad as when the old dog tucker freezer had spat the dummy while 
he had been away for a weekend.


 Mistril proudly put a plate of meat in the middle of the table and Bruce 
felt his stomach lurch at the sight of the putrid, slimey flesh.


 "Christ, take it away will, we can't eat that!"


 Mistril was crestfallen, what's wrong with it she wondered? She was 
totally put out when Bruce grabbed the plate and heaved it contents and all 
over the edge of the veranda.


 "The first thing we're going to have to do is teach these people how to 
cook," said Bruce not really feeling much like eating any longer.


 five 



 Raele sensed that something had changed as soon as he stepped off the 
patrol craft. It wasn't just the way the Aotearoians had waited at the top of 
the hill for him grasping their primitive weapons.


 Though they hadn't accorded him the sort of respect that he would have 
normally expected, Raele quickly realised that it wasn't he personally that 
they were being disrespectful to. It was the old ways that they had come to 
distrust and abhor.


 "What good was the Skidian Way to us when the syn plants were failing?" 
They asked as he sat talking to them and Raele knew it hadn't been a good idea 
to give any of them access to his archives. A little learning was proving to 
be a powerful catalyst for their aspirations for change.


 Raele began to explain that it was the Skidian Way that had sustained 
Skidians during times of crisis in the past, but these Skidians were having 
none of that.


 They were having none of a lot of other things either. When Raele asked 
what had happened in his absence, he was informed bluntly that they had begun 
a program of self rule that had no place for an autocratic leader like 
himself. In future they said, their leaders would be elected and subject to 
controls exercised by an elected council.


 This sounded like heresy to Raele but he kept his temper. There weren't 
enough Skidians left for him to indiscriminately dispose of a large portion of 
the population simply because they'd had access to information that was 
clearly beyond their ability to comprehend.


 The discussion became as heated as a discussion between Skidians ever 
became, perhaps a little more so as the Aotearoians became aware of how 
valuable the frank and open airing of ideas and grievances could be. Feeling 
as though his position was being undermined, Raele fought hard to contain 
himself though secretly he was pleased with the what was happening. After a 
while it dawned on him that if he could ensure that he would be elected as 
their leader and then he could carry on as he planned.


 If it keeps them happy to think they are in control them let them believe 
that he decided as he let himself be forced into supporting the concept of 
collective leadership.


 The talk died for a while, Raele wondered whether the Aotearoians 
suspected his grudging agreement or were surprised that he'd agreed at all. 
There was something else, he could see it in their eyes, something else was 
obviously disturbing them.


 But what? Were they finding life more difficult than they had believed? 
Raele glanced around, the organic plant looked as if it were operating 
normally. There were plenty of Skidians around, their numbers appeared to have 
swelled in his absence which could only be a good thing.


 "Have you had any contact with other communities?" Raele asked casually 
wondering whether Mischief or somebody like him from one of the other 
industrial complexes had decided to venture out of his lair and flex what 
authority he imagined he might have.


 Mischief had obviously decided to interpret Raele's instructions in a 
different manner from that which Raele had intended. That was an ominous 
development as far as Raele was concerned, but one to be expected. If the 
Aotearoians could not only think about but actually institute a new form of 
self government for their community, the was no real reason why Mischief or 
somebody else like him could seek to expand his little empire.


 The initial contact between the two vastly disparate groups had come to 
nothing. The Aotearoians had welcomed Mischief and his party but had quickly 
made it clear that they didn't consider that Mischief had the authority to 
impose his will upon them which was evidently his intention.


 "On who's behalf was he acting?" Raele asked, hoping that Mischief hadn't 
invoked his name.


 "On his own. He said that in the absence of any legitimate authority he 
had assumed the position of chief mati," one of the more outspoken Skidians 



told him.


 "And you believed him, even though I was a resident of your community?" 
Raele asked reasonably, suddenly wondering whether Mischief might have had 
anything to with his unplanned journey. But he quickly discounted that idea 
since a service crew had repaired his craft allowing his return to Skid.


 "We respectfully suggested that you were the legitimate ruler of Skid, 
but that we were in the process of forming our own system of government."


 Raele was beginning to realise just how difficult the task of governing 
Skid was going to be as different groups of Skidians responded to the vacuum 
caused by the disintegration of their society in different ways. He was also 
pleased that he had brought along an offworlder who was probably used to 
dealing with such matters.


 Mischief had threatened various kinds of action if the Aotearoians didn't 
comply with his demands ranging from simply cutting supplies of synfood and 
other material from the community, to the use of force.


 The last threat hadn't been treated seriously, for whoever had heard of a 
Skidian using physical force on another? As for trying to isolate Aotearoa by 
depriving them of synfood and other material, well, the Aotearoians were 
confident that they could now survive quite satisfactorily on what the 
organic plant produced. Besides, Mischief hadn't acted on any of his threats.


 Raele clearly recalling the pompous soul grasping a weapon he didn't know 
how to arm, felt that it was only a matter of time and opportunity before he 
did make some move against Aotearoa.


 "What are you going to do about Mischief?" Venolia, the outspoken Skidian 
asked.


 "What do you wish me to do?" Raele was astounded by the question. The 
Aotearoians had just finished telling him that they no longer considered him 
their leader and now they were expecting him to take make a decision over what 
they clearly saw as a serious threat to their existence.


 Despite their brave words Raele realised that nothing had changed for 
these Skidians. They were still conditioned to believe that some higher 
authority would protect and provide for them as some higher authority always 
had.


 As they waited for Raele to say that he would look after them, Raele 
wondered whether he might be better off dealing with Mischiefor somebody like 
him who had already proved that he was able to take the initiative and was 
possibly ready to help him rebuild a new and more powerful Skid.


 But Mischief, Raele decided had an equally privileged background. Neither 
he nor his people had felt the full effects of Skid's recent tragedy either.


 "Protect us from Mischief," Venolia pleaded after a long silence.


 "I don't know how I can." Raele replied reasonably, playing with Venolia 
now. How was he supposed to make decisions regarding their welfare if he no 
longer possessed the power to do so?


 "But you must," Venolia muttered looking downcast, "you must help us to 
preserve our way of life here." Being under Raele's protection was their only 
hope of warding off the unwelcome attentions of Mischief and any other Skidian 
who had the necessary power to enforce his will. What chance did they have 
against well-resourced Skidians from the industrial complexes?


 "I will think on it," Raele replied and decided to go off and talk to 
Mitch hoping he could tell him what to do.


 As he walked over to where the offworlders sitting on the raised platform 
outside the house he tried to decide whether being the supreme ruler of Skid 
was really worth the effort.


 The Aotearoians didn't seem to know what they wanted, on one hand they 
didn't want to live with the sort of rules and conventions of the Skidian way. 
On the other hand they didn't seem to want to live without the comfort and 
protection that the old ways provided them. And they were simply one of the 
many groups of Skidians remaining who had suffered different hardships in the 
time since the old Skid had disintegrated.


 What did the Skidians who still lived as they always had in the 



industrial complexes want, did they really want what ambitious Skidians like 
Mischief were attempting to provide for them? Or were they simply content that 
some Skidian had taken it upon himself to fill the vacuum created mostly by 
the death of Inel and the consequent lack of any remaining identifiable and 
coherent leadership. Were they capable of deciding what they wanted. Raele 
doubted that they were, doubted that any Skidian in their position really was 
considering that their lives had only changed in that it was filled with 
uncertainty now.


 That left the sad bands of Skidians that still roamed restlessly around 
the cities surviving as best they could, venturing only so far into the 
wilderness as they dared, still not understanding what had happened to their 
world. Perhaps they were drifting aimlessly back into the cities having seen 
that the service crews were rebuilding them, though Raele had not seen any 
evidence of that when they had briefly stopped at Sietnuoc.


 What did those Skidians want, those that through no fault of their own 
had experienced the full brunt of the recent disaster? Merely a return to the 
good old days when all they had to worry about was how to fill in their days? 
Raele thought that was probably so and couldn't blame them really, in their 
position, in the position of the Aotearoians and even of Mischief he might 
feel the same way.


 An unnatural passion gripped Raele, it could be so different he thought, 
we could build something new and unique here. But how. He was close enough now 
to see the two male offworlders clearly. While Bruce looked contented enough. 
Mitch was hardly recognisable as the confident offworlder that he had been 
when Raele had first seen him.


 Mitch's body had sagged and his face had become crumpled and grey 
looking. When he stood to get a better look at something that Bruce was 
pointing out to him he seemed to have shrunk as if some great force was 
pressing down on his shoulders.


 "Oh they're full of shit Mitch," Raele heard. "Couldn't organise a pissup 
in a brewery." Raele didn't know what shit was, a pissup, or a brewery was but 
he did recognise the contempt in Bruce's voice. Contempt for Skidians?


 Raele knew that he was right in some ways, but also that things weren't 
quite as clear cut as the offworlder would like to believe.


 He decided to stay where he was for a moment, it was obvious that the 
offworlders hadn't seen him, or if they had they didn't care whether he heard 
whatever they said. Raele thought he might overhear something useful that they 
might not say to his face.


 "How do you mean? "


 "Oh he means that they're useless," Sue chimed in, "but what he really 
means is that he doesn't really understand them very well."


 "You don't know what you're talking about!"


 "What do you mean I don't know what I'm talking about, I lived here to 
you know, I know just as much about the place as you do!" Sue retorted 
angrily.


 "Like what?"


 "Well, they've got some very impressive technology," Sue ventured after a 
moment.


 "Didn't help them in the long run did it?"


 "No but it's still impressive," Sue replied haplessly.


 "Do we need to argue among ourselves ?" Mitch asked sadly. "I mean we're 
in this together aren't we?"


 "I suppose so, but that doesn't mean we have to agree on everything does 
it?"


 "But at least you could try and be a bit less critical and a bit more 
helpful at times Bruce," Sue suggested.


 "What the hell do you call that out there?" Raele could see the sweep of 
a hand above his head and knew Bruce must be pointing down towards the organic 
plant.


 "It's a fucken disaster area out there and did you see what they've been 



eating? I'm surprised they haven't shitted themselves to death."


 What did he mean? Raele wondered. The Aotearoians had been adamant that 
they could survive Mischief cutting off their food supply.


 "They've still got their synfood, they'll be ok without us mister big 
expert farmer," Sue replied sardonically.


 But for how long? Raele wondered suddenly feeling totally isolated from 
his world and all the people on it. From his fellow Skidians even more than 
the offworlders. This struck him as being quite ironic until he realised that 
this was so because unlike his fellow Skidians the offworlders didn't seem to 
expect anything of him. Maybe Mitch did, but Raele knew that he was used to 
acting independently just like the other two and once he recovered from the 
trip to Skid would no doubt act independently again.


 So what am I supposed to do? Raele wondered. Whatever the Aotearoians or 
the likes of Mischief might like to believe he was still in effect if not 
nominally in control of Skid. Only he possessed the ability to enforce his 
will on the rest of Skid.


 Others might presume they possessed the weapons or the moral right to do 
as they desired but Raele was the only one that knew he could. He was in 
possession of the keywords required to unlock the weapons of mass destruction, 
only he knew how to employ them. His birthright made him the only legitimate 
heir to Inel the last unopposed chief mati of Skid, his was the right until he 
tired of it or some Skidian with better credentials came along.


 Raele couldn't see that happening in his time. Unfortunately none of this 
helped Raele to decide what he must do. In the age old traditions of his race 
Raele decided that his best path was to do nothing. However unlike traditional 
leaders he wasn't so naive to believe that doing nothing would solve his 
problems. He simply hoped that time would allow him to find some way of 
rebuilding Skid in a way that would return it to something approaching it's 
former self without getting rid of most of the surviving Skidians in the 
process.


 six


 When Mitch woke he thought that somehow he had been transported back to 
his own bed. In a moment the phone would ring or there would be a light tap on 
the door and the duty secret service agent would bring him the morning's bad 
news. It was always bad news when they woke him, and these days they always 
seemed to wake him early.


 When no phones intruded and nobody tapped on the door though his room was 
drenched by the early morning sun he realised belatedly that he wasn't back in 
his own bed.


 With a pang of resentment he had thought that Mistril would join him in 
the bed as she showed him his room the previous night but just as she closed 
the door Raele had called out from down the corridor and she was gone. So much 
for that he thought watching the sheet over his lower body rise and wondering 
why it wouldn't do that when he wanted it to.


 Mitch lay there and listened to the house come awake. Somewhere he heard 
the baby cry and heard footsteps, Sue's he thought and a soothing voice try to 
hush the baby.


 There were other sounds as people began to rise and move about but Mitch 
didn't feel any need at all to climb out of bed. What was the point? There 
didn't seem to be anything for him to do here.


 Bruce had suggested that he should think of something and just do it. 
Like what? He'd asked Bruce and himself.


 Bruce hadn't been a lot of help, nor had he been very forthcoming about 
what Skid was really like apart from a few negative comments and Sue hadn't 
been much better. Mitch felt that they almost resented his presence as if it 
intruded on their own lives too much. He thought they would have been pleased 
of fellow human company. If they were, they didn't show it. 



 Perhaps he thought, by being here I detract from their uniqueness and 
position among the Skidians. Mitch was also a little confused by that 
position. Bruce seemed to get off in denigrating the Skidians, even when they 
were in earshot, though he was more polite to Raele than any of the others.


 On the other hand the Skidians treated them as if they were some kind of 
lower life form, Raele and Mistril excluded. Maybe Raele was just a little 
more inscrutable or something. Mitch didn't think that they intended to let 
their feelings show so obviously, or expect he and his fellow offworlders to 
recognise their behaviour for what it was.


 If Bruce was as observant as he, and Mitch had a sneaking suspicion that 
he was a lot cleverer than he made out, then Mitch could understand his 
attitude towards the Skidians and their planet. That made it so much harder 
for Mitch to understand why Bruce, even Sue to a lesser extent, appeared quite 
happy to be here.


 Mitch shook his head sadly and wondered whether the way people acted and 
the reasons why they acted at times would ever cease to amaze him. This 
despite his thirty years in politics when he had seen men and often women go 
to incredible lengths to get what they wanted, letting absolutely nothing get 
in their way. Then often the very same nasty, selfish people undertaking 
incredibly noble and selfless acts, from which they stood to gain nothing.


 "I'll never understand what makes people tick," Mitch muttered, wondering 
how he could understand what made the Skidians tick if he couldn't understand 
his own people.


 "But at least I can try," he said decisively, marvelling at how much 
better he felt.


 He started to throw off the covers, became daunted by the enormity of the 
task and decided to stay where he was. I wish Mistril was here, it would be 
fun to start with her he mused, all I've really got to do is find some way of 
talking to them after all.


 Bang!


 The sound of a rifle shot startled Mitch. What the hell was going on? Was 
somebody firing at them or what? As Mitch wondered whether to take cover and 
roll under the bed or scrunch himself against the wall or something Sue's 
voice rang out.


 "What the hell do you think you're doing Bruce?" She yelled from 
somewhere close by," I've just got the baby to sleep and you start making a 
bloody racket. Why don't you go down the paddock somewhere if you want to do 
that?"


 "Why don't you stop yelling, you stupid woman? That'll wake the baby for 
sure!" Mitch heard Bruce yell back from somewhere outside.


 What was he doing with a gun? Mitch wondered, wondering whether he really 
wanted to find out.


 As if on cue he heard the baby start crying in the room beside his. What 
was Bruce shooting at?


 Mitch pulled on the robe that had been provided for him and wandered 
through the house until he found his way out onto the veranda. He found that 
he wasn't the only one who had been drawn to the source of the noise. A group 
of Skidians huddled anxiously outside the house watching Bruce, who had found 
some kind of light truck and was in the process of throwing his dogs into the 
back of it. The gun was nowhere to be seen.


 "What's he doing?" Mitch asked Sue who had also come out onto the veranda 
holding the baby.


 "I don't know, he was up at some impossible hour this morning. Didn't you 
hear him banging and swearing in the kitchen? He found half an ivop in a 
cupboard, no wonder then place stank!"


 "No." Mitch replied, having slept more soundly than he could remember in 
a long time. At least he didn't have to ask what an ivop was after their meal 
the night before


 "He's a bit of an early riser is our Bruce," Sue muttered unhappily. "I'd 
forgotten about that." 



 "Did I hear a gunshot a few moments ago?"


 "Yeah, the mood Bruce is in this morning I think he'd like to shoot a few 
Skidians. He's not pleased about the way they've looked after 'his' farm while 
we've been away," Sue added enigmatically.


 "His farm?"


 "Oh didn't we tell you? Bruce did all this, well mostly by himself."


 Mitch scratched his head and wondered why somebody would want to develop 
an earth style ranch on a planet which had perfected the production of 
synthetic food.


 "That's a bit strange isn't it, was he homesick or something?"


 "Well he, we were both homesick but the Skidians seemed to be desperate 
to learn how to farm, or produce organic food as they put it."


 "I've obviously misunderstood something here Sue, why would the Skidians 
want to learn how to grow their own food?"


 "What do you think happened on Skid Mitch that killed all those millions 
of Skidians?"


 "I sort of presumed there was some kind of war and the Skidians lost it."


 "No that's not what happened at all Mitch, they ran out of food, 
something to do with their synthetic food plants not functioning, or not 
producing enough for all the Skidians to eat, something like that."


 "Now I know why Bruce has such a low opinion of Skidians anyway," Mitch 
reflected, "and I can't say I really blame him."


 "Neither can I really, but it would be difficult for them to accept that 
they could eat things like meat and vegetables after living on synfood for 
generations." Sue paused unconsciously to let little Bruce shift his attention 
to her other breast. "I mean I had enough problems learning how to plant 
things and trying not to think about what Bruce did to put meat on the table 
and we're used to real food."


 "I wonder what they do all day? " Sue said watching the Skidians slowly 
drift off evidently having decided that whatever Bruce was doing wasn't all 
that interesting. "It doesn't look as if they've done much around here."


 Mitch looked around, remembered the untidy looking garden they'd passed 
the day before and thought about what Sue had just told him.


 "Maybe they don't know what to do," he suggested tentatively.


 "More than likely. Hey stop that you little shit," Sue said to little 
Bruce as he started to gnaw on her nipple.


 Mitch sighed and wished for a moment he could simply fall asleep and wake 
when the nightmare was over, or simply lose the will to live and think himself 
to death. That wouldn't do he decided, life wasn't that simple, even here. 
Besides he didn't think he was capable of suicide.


 "Hey Mitch, wanna come for a look around?" Bruce asked appearing on the 
veranda with a steaming cup of something in his hand.


 "Why not?" Mitch suddenly felt a part of whatever was going on. Decided 
that he wanted a few other things as, Mistril emerged from the house pushing a 
trolley before her.


 "I am sorry," she began looking at Bruce meaningfully, "but all our 
organic food has been destroyed, we will have to eat synfood until we can 
harvest some more," she continued stiffly.


 "Why isn't someone out there now? I'll give them a hand," offered Bruce.


 "Our community council hasn't made a decision on who should undertake the 
harvest yet."


 Now that sounds like something I could get interested in Mitch thought.


 "Did you throw anything out Bruce?"


 "Oh I had a bit of a clean up in the kitchen, that's all, threw 
everything out," he added.


 "Oh Bruce how could you?"


 "Pretty easily, for one there was nothing much there and secondly most of 
what there was almost crawling, would have been if there were any flies."


 "What do you mean?"


 "They'd put nothing in then fridge or freezer, all the meat and stuff was 



rotting away in the cupboards. You wouldn't believe some of the shit I found 
in there, even the dogs turned their noses up at it," he added shaking his 
head as if he couldn't really believe the mess he had found, "they're worser 
housekeepers than I am!"


 "No wonder there was such a disgusting smell in there," Sue grunted. 
"What did you do with it all?"


 "Threw it in the back of the ute and chucked it in the river."


 "That wasn't very environmentally sensitive of you Bruce, don't you think 
they have enough problems here without you teaching them how to pollute their 
rivers?"


 "Who cares?" Bruce dismissed Sue's protests. "Besides nobody saw me, they 
were still asleep."


 Bruce grabbed himself a bowl and began to eat. He was clearly unhappy 
with the taste and grimaced with each swallow.


 "What's this community council thing?" Mitch asked out ofthe blue to the 
surprise of Sue and Bruce, showing a spark of interest that they didn't think 
he was capable of.


 "I have no idea," Bruce replied after a moment's deliberation. "Sounds 
like something new to me, as far as I could work out the place was a 
dictatorship despite their airy fairy pretensions. Maybe things have changed. 
Don't think Raele will be too happy though," he added through a mouthful of 
synfood.


 "Why not?"


 "Well, he is or was the next in line to be the head man about the place.


 "That's right I remember him saying something about that." Mitch recalled 
vaguely, he hadn't taken much notice of anything the previous day.


 "Must be a bit of a bastard to come home and find somebody's shifted the 
goal posts on you like that," Bruce remarked.


 "Has anybody worked out what he was doing back home anyway?"


 "Who's home?"


 "Our home dummy." Sue snapped, where did you think I was talking about?"


 Bruce and Sue looked at Mitch who might have known, but all he could say 
was. "We don't know really, we do think he might have had some sort of 
accident. There's a patch on the hull of his space ship."


 "I wonder how he got that?" Bruce asked nobody in particular as they 
walked around the space ship a little later.


 "I'm told it's possible he ran into the Rockies or something," replied 
Mitch.


 "Makes you wonder if we were lucky to get here in one piece eh?" Said 
Bruce not that he sounded really worried.


 "It does," Mitch replied agreeably.


 "Yeah oh well not to worry, let me show you the garden of Eden Mitch," 
Bruce chuckled at his little joke and wandered over to the fenced off area 
that looked like a section of jungle set down on the top of a skyscraper.


 Bruce kicked the gate open with his foot, not that he needed have 
worried. He could have easily stepped over the fence which sagged and had 
completely fallen over in places.


 Suddenly the dogs started yapping at something and an ivop came crashing 
through the luxuriant growth. It stopped as it saw Bruce who wasn't prepared 
to get out of it's way and changed direction, heading for several Skidians who 
had trooped down the hill carrying various gardening implements. The Skidians 
scattered flinging away their tools and the ivop charged on up the hill and 
disappeared over the top still pursued by the three dogs.


 "Bloody idiots," Bruce muttered swiping at a plant that looked like 
sweetcorn.


 Mitch wasn't sure who he meant, the dogs or the Skidians, he wasn't about 
to ask either.


 The dogs loped back looking quite satisfied with themselves Mitch thought 
but it took the Skidians a while longer to gather themselves and re-approach 
the garden. 



 They stood for a moment at the open gate and then trooped inside in 
single file looking carefully from side to side as if they expected something 
to leap out and attack them. Once inside they seemed to relax a little and 
began their morning's work.


 Bruce squatted wordlessly and began to roll himself a cigarette as he 
watched the Skidians.


 "What do you think they're up to Mitch, or better still what do you think 
they think they're up to?" Bruce asked.


 "Gardening I suppose," Mitch suggested tentatively. The closest he had 
ever got to gardening was watching his wife supervise the ground staff at the 
White House, or the wetbacks they used at their own home. He couldn't see what 
was wrong, though the garden did look a bit overgrown.


 "Lets ask them eh?"


 "We are harvesting the organic material," one of the Skidians insisted as 
the two offworlders watched them slash tiredly at the ferny vegetation with 
whatever tool they carried and squash it into a bucket.


 "Does it taste nice?" Bruce enquired sarcastically reaching down and 
grasping a few stems that still poked out of the soil.


 "I dunno about you, but I really prefer eating this bit," he said tugging 
at the stems and pulling a large carrot out of the ground. "What do you think 
Mitch?"


 "I prefer that bit to," Mitch replied unable to suppress a chuckle as 
Bruce brushed off most of the soil that still clung to the carrot and broke a 
piece off which he popped into his mouth.


 "Want some Mitch?"


 The stunned Skidians watched Mitch bite on the carrot, clearly 
recognising that most of their gardening efforts to date had been in vain.


 One by one the Skidians threw down their tools in disgust and walked 
away, obviously unhappy about something until only one of them remained.


 "Ok sunshine," Bruce said to the remaining Skidian," I guess you're now 
the chief horticulturist on Skid."


 Mitch watched as the Skidian first look surprised and then grin happily 
as if he had won a million bucks in a lottery. Mitch didn't know whether being 
made chief of anything on Skid by Bruce carried any weight but the Skidian 
seemed to think so.


 You had to admire Bruce, Mitch thought as he watched Bruce and the 
Skidian walk around the garden. He watched Bruce give the Skidian exact 
instructions in a firm easy manner. Where he seemed to think there might be 
any confusion Bruce followed his explanation by showing the Skidian exactly 
what he wanted.


 "Why were your instructions so explicit?" Mitch asked as they left the 
garden.


 "The Skidians aren't used to using their initiative, don't ask me why. 
Something to do with never having had to work for a living and the way the 
system used to work I guess."


 "So why didn't the person who told them to garden, tell them how to 
garden?"


 "Well the way things used to work was that the Skidian who said go garden 
if you like, probably wasn't sure how to garden either and even if he did he 
wouldn't lower himself to actually do any work himself."


 "Sounds like a pretty dumb system to me," Mitch said, "sounds even worse 
than socialism."


 "The system here has a lot in common with things back home I'll grant you 
that, but you can't really blame people. I mean up until recently none of 
these people had ever seen an ivop let alone eaten one or stuff out of a 
garden."


 "My government wasn't socialist!" Mitch exclaimed. It had always been a 
sore point with Mitch that policies aimed at equitable healthcare and setting 
up decent work training schemes had earned the tag of socialist by the 
powerful conservative right wing lunatic fringe groups that had blocked his 



path at every turn.


 "Keep your hair on Mitch, I never said it was did I?"


 "You said back home didn't you?" Mitch demanded.


 "Yeah, well back where I come from we do have a sort of socialist 
government, though some of their ideas put them well to the right of Ghengis 
Khan."


 "Where do you come from?" Mitch had just assumed that Bruce was a fellow 
American citizen with a speech impediment.


 "New Zealand."


 "Oh, oh well that's all right then," Mitch muttered, a little embarrassed 
by his outburst, trying to remember where New Zealand was.


 "Don't worry Mitch, I'll get over it," Bruce responded keeping a firm 
grip on his temper in case Mitch said something more that got up his nose.


 seven


 Raele dismissed the protests of the gardeners who had hot footed it up 
the hill to complain about the antics of the offworlders. "You no longer 
acknowledge me as your leader," he pointed out, "so why are you complaining to 
me?"


 He looked out from the window and saw the two offworlders making their 
way up the hill. From their angry glances at each other Raele felt they were 
unhappy as well.


 "Are you still here?" He asked the Skidians rhetorically who still waited 
more or less impatiently for him to act. To do something. They looked 
mortified when Raele steadfastly refused to act and finally left when it was 
clear he wasn't going to respond to their entreaties.


 Raele wondered what Bruce's response would be if the community council 
actually managed to censure him? He'd simply ignore them and get about his 
business no doubt. The idea pleased Raele, the community would be safe in 
Bruce's hands while he was gone. Especially as he had decided to further upset 
the equilibrium of the community by shutting off its synfood supplies.


 Now the Aotearoians would really have to eke out an existence from the 
organic factory, which if what he'd overheard from the offworlders the 
previous night was right, would really distress them.


 With that happy thought Raele decided to continue his interrupted 
inspection tour of Skid immediately. Raele had no fixed idea what he should do 
on this trip except for confronting Mischief and demanding and explanation for 
his activities.


 "Would you like to see some more of Skid?" Raele hadn't meant to ask 
Mitch along, but it suddenly occurred to him when he met Mitch outside the 
house that he wanted the company of someone he wouldn't be expected to do 
things for all the time.


 "Sure,why not," Mitch replied and before anybody knew what was happening 
the two of them were in the patrol ship heading for Mischief's self styled 
realm.


 Mitch found it a bit disconcerting that Raele didn't say much, though he 
seemed to be loosening up. At least he'd asked this time before taking him for 
a ride in his space ship. Mitch grinned ruefully, he found it almost hard to 
believe that he didn't really mind being where he was.


 The dilemma's that had beset him just a few days ago had been forced into 
the background. Even if suddenly transported back to earth, Mitch found to his 
astonishment that he no longer wantedthe office that he had strived so hard 
for over the years. Who wants the hassle he asked himself? Wilmot and 
whoever came after him was welcome to the job.


 Mitch felt a pang of guilt when he thought about his wife. No doubt she 
would get over it, most likely the disappointment of no longer being first 
lady would be a greater loss than his absence.


 Mitch realised to his astonishment that he was actually excited with the 



prospect of stamping his mark on a whole new world.


 He glanced sideways and speculated as to what Raele's reaction might be 
if the Skidian knew what he was thinking.


 Unbeknownst to Mitch, Raele had noticed something, he checked his sensors 
and wondered why the offworlder was suddenly so buoyant. He registered far 
higher on that count than was normal for Skidians. The monitors must be 
damaged Raele decided tapping the display with his forefinger.


 "Where are we headed Raele?" Mitch asked after a while.


 "To one of the industrial complex's. I left a Skidian there called 
Mischief in charge and he seems to have decided that I left him charge of the 
whole of Skid."


 "You have those sort of people here to huh?" Mitch chuckled, "and I 
thought I was the only one with that problem."


 Raele expected a primitive planet like the offworlders to have problems 
with people going off on tangents of their own. He didn't expect problems like 
that on Skid with it's history of obedience to it's leaders. Obviously things 
weren't so clear cut when even the most sophisticated society disintegrated.


 Raele was starting to become a little confused, on one hand he wanted the 
remaining Skidians to accept him without question as their leader. On the 
other he wanted to develop a new Skid where Skidians were more self reliant 
and more resourceful. Where they were in control of events on their planet 
rather than pawns of technology. He was beginning to wonder whether the two 
states were compatible.


 Maybe it was time to ask Mitch for help? It annoyed Raele that he had to 
rely on offworlders to help him shape his new world but he saw no alternative. 
Either he used their skills to shape a new Skid or it would flounder, would 
lurch from crisis to crisis, just as the old Skid had to it's cost.


 Before Raele had a chance to speak his mind they were challenged by some 
idiot at the industrial complex.


 "Patrol craft xt2135-2, you are now entering restricted airspace, 
identify yourself and state your mission."


 "RO Raele Inel requesting permission to dock."


 "Permission denied Patrol craft xt2135-2, you are denied access to the 
Republic Of Skid and it's facilities."


 Raele felt as though his worst nightmare had come true. If the two 
surviving communities on Skid had essentially turned on him what chance did he 
have of surviving on Skid for any length of time let alone trying to govern 
the place?


 "On who's authority was this Republic established?" Raele demanded.


 "By the authority invested in his worship Mischief Reeke."


 "Why am I denied access to the complex?" Raele enquired, forcing himself 
not to sound as disconcerted as he felt. He could force entry to the complex 
and the landing dock, he wondered if Mischief and his lieutenants knew just 
how powerful a weapon a fully armed patrol craft was.


 "You have been identified as an agent of the old regime and enemy of the 
republic..........." There was more but Raele missed most of the proclamation 
because Mitch had started to laugh.


 "Boy you have got problems Raele, enemy of the state and all that sort of 
thing, what are you going to do about it?"


 Raele sensed that Mitch was laughing at his expense. Raele knew he could 
make an example of the self styled Republic of Skid but it would be an 
expensive example, not in terms of the destruction of the industrial complex 
but in terms of the number of Skidians that would also lose their lives.


 What was the point in ruling the planet if it had no inhabitants? If that 
happened he might as well go and live on Celcious B or even the offworlder's 
planet.


 "What would you do Mitch?" For the first time making a direct request for 
help.


 "Do you acknowledge xt2135-2?" The flight control centre insisted before 
Mitch could reply." 



 "Say yes," Mitch suggested," that will give us a bit of time to work out 
what to do next." Mitch had always considered himself and inadequate diplomat. 
By choice he would have like to get his way by waving a big stick to get his 
way. But this wasn't the way things were done on the closing years of the 
twentieth century, even when you had at your beck and call the most powerful 
weapons of war ever devised. He wondered what kind of weapons Raele on the 
ship. Mitch hadn't seen any evidence of the sort of firepower Raele would need 
to destroy the large underground industrial complex he had described, but he 
might be able to give them a good scare.


 "Pull back far enough so that we don't register on whatever surveillance 
equipment they have."


 Raele did as he was bidden and then waited for Mitch's next move.


 "What is our aim here Raele, do we want to destroy the man or just talk 
to him?"


 "Just talk to him," Raele replied."


 "He doesn't sound to keen on talking. Can we threaten him a little, will 
that make him talk to us?"


 "I could threaten him, but Mischief might not believe me."


 "Why not? Mitch asked.


 "Mischief has never seen many patrol craft like these, he probably thinks 
they are like the freighters that used to call at the complex. Slow and 
unarmed."


 Mitch remembered the state of the art Air Force jets this ship had evaded 
with ease and later shot down and wondered just how powerful it might be.


 "And it isn't of course."


 "No, I could destroy the complex, but I don't really want to."


 "Well lets be thankful for something then." Mitch breathed a little 
easier. He didn't really want the unnecessary deaths of untold Skidians on his 
conscience.


 "What about just landing anyway, could they stop you?"


 "No. But I would have to make a big hole in the ground to get in."


 "Well that's what we'll do then," Mitch muttered with a sigh of relief. 
"Make a big hole in the ground close to the complex and then tell this 
mischief maker that the next hole will be over his head if he doesn't decided 
to talk to you....here." Mitch added with a flash of inspiration.


 Raele was thankful he had taken Mitch's council, otherwise he would most 
likely have ended up destroying the complex and everyone in it which would 
have been a complete waste.


 Mitch's masterstroke in Raele's opinion was to order Mischief to the 
ship, so they wouldn't even have to land. In normal times Raele, or any chief 
mati would have confronted any opponent on the rival's home ground to show his 
disdain and contempt, confident in his ability to deal with any threat to his 
person.


 When he told Mitch that he could just beam Mischief aboard anyway he was 
surprised at Mitch's reaction.


 "That's not the whole point of the exercise Raele, blowing a big hole in 
the ground will show Mischief that you mean business."


 Raele couldn't actually see the point in that but he decided to humour 
Mitch by approaching the industrial complex once again and demanding to speak 
to Mischief and promised to Mitch's instructions.


 "May I remind you xt2135-2 that your incursion into Republican airspace 
will not be tolerated."


 "I wish to speak to Mischief!" Raele demanded arming his most powerful 
weapons. "Immediately!" Raele had already forgotten the words that Mitch had 
coached him to say. He was realising just how powerful he could be and 
enjoying every moment of it.


 Raele let his finger caress a switch almost lovingly for several moments, 
he had never had the opportunity to use most of the weapons at his disposal 
and wondered what sort of damage they could do. He pressed down firmly.


 Mitch's mouth gaped as close by a large fountain of earth exploded 



upwards, blotting out the sun for several moments before it began to rain down 
again.


 Raele swung the craft around and both he and Mitch stared in astonishment 
at the gigantic hole that had appeared below them.


 "Phew," Mitch ran a hand through his sparse hair and decided to be 
thnkfull for small mercies that Raele hadn't found the need to use a weapon 
like that on earth.


 "Do you think Mischief will talk to me now?" Raele asked,not entirely 
sure he had done the right thing. Perhaps a lower setting would have been 
enough.


 "He'd be a fool not to," Mitch said almost to himself, "let's ask him and 
see,tell him the next shot will be right over his head."


 "Are you receiving xt2135-2?" The flight controller asked hesitantly.


 "Receiving," Raele replied laconically, enjoying himself immensely.


 "Can you give us any information regarding the explosion at your 
approximate position."


 "An explosion has formed a large crater beneath us," Raele told the 
nervous controller. "I have no doubt that a larger crater will appear closer 
to the industrial complex unless Mischief joins us immediately for a 
conference."


 Mitch was beginning to wonder if Raele understood anything he said at 
all. Twice now, when Mitch had suggested a softly softly diplomatic approach 
Raele had gone in all guns blazing. Mitch recommended a moderate show of force 
and Raele had made a hole in the ground big enough to lose an aircraft carrier 
in. Mitch wanted to encourage a meeting between the two men, wanted Mischief 
to make the first move and Raele had simply demanded his presence aboard the 
space ship. If Mischief had any balls he'd stay put and call Raele's bluff.


 Mitch didn't think it likely Mischief had any balls.


 "What is the meaning of this outrage?" A voice puffed over the 
communications channel, I demand an explanation!"


 "We have had an accident onboard," Mitch lied before Raele could make 
matters any worse.


 "Who is this?" Mischief demanded. "Where is Raele Inel our glorious 
leader?"


 Mitch chuckled to himself at Mischief rapid about turn.


 "I am Raele's political advisor and spokesman," Mitch improvised on the 
spur of the moment. "May I suggest a meeting between myself and your own 
advisors to discuss matters of mutual interest before there is another 
accident?"


 "I will meet with you myself or Raele for that matter," Mischief replied 
quickly fearing for his own safety. Which was the right thing to do because 
Mitch could see Raele's finger inching towards the button that would release 
another devastating salvo.


 "No." Mitch said shaking his head. An hours' wait for Mischief would seem 
like a lifetime and make him hopefully all that more cooperative. Perhaps 
longer would be even better.


 "No?" I will meet you anywhere, any place." Mischief screamed franticly.


 Most un-Skidlike of him Raele thought with contempt.


 Mitch paused to wonder what affect Mischief increasing panic would be 
having on his own followers. Seeing their leader in a blue funk probably 
wasn't the greatest endorsement of his abilities.


 "Very well, we will expect you on board in one hour."


 "xt 2135-2 you are cleared to dock."


 "Ignore him Raele," Mitch suggested. "Let's go and return in a few hours 
time."


 "Why?" Raele didn't understand why Mitch wouldn't meet with Mischief at 
the appointed time after going to so much trouble to make him come to the 
ship.


 "My bet is that he'll be so worked up that he will agree to anything, 
we'll let him stew for a while." 



 Let him cook? Raele thought, vaguely understanding what Mitch intended.


 "And what is a political advisor?"


 "Somebody that helps you deal with your enemies Raele," Mitch smiled. 
"Somebody that tries to make sure that you can do what you want without too 
much objection from your opposition, people like Mischief for example. Mitch 
stared thoughtfully at Raele for a moment. "What do you want Raele?"


 That was simple enough for Raele; "I wish to rule Skid," he replied. "I 
want to rule a Skid where people know the value of life and are prepared to 
work to achieve a better one."


 "You want people to earn a living, rather than sit around waiting for 
their food to pop out of a tap?"


 "This is right," Raele agreed warming to Mitch. With this man he would 
make Skid more powerful than ever before.


 eight


 Bruce lay comfortably in the shade of the cuttings he'd planted all those 
months ago and marvelled at how rapidly they had grown. More remarkably no 
ivop seemed to have broken into the paddock and nibbled at the new growth. At 
least the gate into the paddock hadn't been left open like everywhere else on 
the farm.


 The ivops hadn't had to brave diving through electric fences with four or 
five thousand volts coursing through them to roam at will, they simply walked 
through the gates that had been left open around the place.


 Bruce had spent the morning closing gates and restoring the electricity 
to the fences by tracing the source of the power fault, which turned out to be 
as simple as rejoining the lead out wire that somebody had driven through or 
cut.


 As he lay under the trees he could see ivops finding out the hard way 
that their roaming days were over for now.


 It was quite comical really. One would walk up to a gate, find it's path 
closed and then carefully sniff the fence on either side of the gate to make 
sure the hole hadn't moved or something. That's when they'd get it. Five 
thousand volts coursing through their body's that made them leap back in 
alarm, sent them racing across the paddock, madly kicking their heels up, 
shaking their nose heavy heads and bellowing in alarm. Then the next one would 
try until in some places there were four or five of them tearing across the 
paddock wondering what had hit them.


 "Fucken idiots."


 Cop looked up from where he lay and blinked at Bruce.


 "Who are you talking too?"


 "Not you anyway!" Bruce retorted, "so shutup!" Bruce might have said 
something else, but he caught something out of the corner of his eye.


 "What are they up to?" Bruce mused as a crowd of Skidians started 
trooping down the race.


 Bruce hadn't seen hide nor hair of any of them since Mitch and Raele had 
disappeared in the space ship for parts unknown. Raele hadn't said where he 
was going and Bruce didn't really care if he stayed away, though he'd like to 
be left alone in the space ship for a few minutes to see if he could make it 
take him home. Not that Bruce really felt like going home yet. His father had 
said 'take your time son,' and that's what Bruce intended to do.


 He wondered idly whether they knew he had been taken by an alien. Not 
likely, he thought. Unless Trev had said something and even then the American 
authorities would probably want to keep a lid on the whole episode because 
they had really been a bit lax in letting their president be kidnapped. Maybe 
someone just wanted to get rid of Mitch. They probably wouldn't want it known 
that two other people more or less went along of their own free will at the 
same time.


 Bruce watched the Skidians stop at a gate not far from him and view it 



with the same sort of suspicion that the ivops were on the other side of the 


fence.


 They're about as stupid as the ivops Bruce thought.


 "This is right," The voice he imagined Cop spoke with, echoed back.


 "What would you know dickhead?


 "More than you'd think!"


 "I'm sure."


 "Oh shut your neck Cop." Bruce said sharply and Cop got up lazily and 
moved a bit further out of Bruce's reach.


 The Skidians seemed to be engaged in some sort of discussion, Bruce could 
just hear them yabbering away pointing to each other, towards the ivops across 
the fence from them, and then again at each other.


 Finally one of them opened the gate and they all trooped into the 
paddock,leaving the gate to swing open behind them.


 Typical! Bruce grunted, watching as the Skidians suddenly broke into a 
run.


 En masse they ran across the paddock towards the ivops who were gathered 
in a tight group in a corner and pounced on one of their number.


 "Cripes I've got to have a better look at this!"


 The ivop struggled, however the Skidians must have been practising 
because they quickly had it on it's back with it's legs vainly pawing the air.


 Regardless of the struggling animal, Skidians held onto it's legs or 
pushed down on it's body. By the time Bruce had run up to them several of the 
Skidians stood on a board placed across the animal's throat trying to 
suffocate it.


 Bruce shook his head in amusement. 'Now I've seen everything!'


 The attempt to suffocate the animal seemed to be working for it's 
struggles became weaker and weaker until another Skidian took out a knife and 
sawed at the animal's throat.


 Suddenly the ivop bellowed loudly as if it had been foxing in the hope 
that the Skidians would go away, gave one last convulsive heave and managed to 
throw them all off.


 Before they could react the ivop had rolled onto it's feet and charged 
away across the paddock, catching up with it's mates who were filing out 
through the gate that had been left open.


 "Get them Cop," Bruce said.


 "I suppose so," Cop replied unhelpfully. He must have said something 
though because the other two dogs streaked across the paddock soared 
gracefully over a couple of fences and had the ivops back in the paddock 
before the Skidians had worked out what was going on.


 "What are you trying to do?" Bruce asked.


 The Skidians looked sheepishly at each other, shrugged their shoulders 
and then all seemed to hang their heads in shame, or despair. Or something, 
Bruce couldn't decide what.


 "Mischief has cut off our supply of synfood," one of the muttered 
unhappily.


 "That's tough," Bruce said unsympathetically. "I guess you're really 
going to have to live off this place then."


 The Skidians didn't look to happy about the idea. It had been at times a 
distasteful diversion attempting to live off the organic plant, made so much 
easier by the availability of synfood if things didn't go too well. Now faced 
with the same bleak prospects that had recently faced many other Skidians this 
wasn't a very happy bunch. They wouldn't go hungry, but life would never be 
so simple and uncomplicated again.


 "We will manage," the Skidian who still held the knife said defiantly. 
Bruce looked at the Skidians and noted the fanatical gleam in his eye. Given 
an AK 47 and a balaclava he could have been any sort of terrorist back home.


 "I'm sure you will," Bruce muttered half to himself. "But you haven't 
made a very good start by neglecting this place have you?"


 "What do you mean?" Demanded the fanatic and Bruce felt the full force of 



the groups hostility directed at him, he wished he'd thought to bring his 
rifle from the ute.


 "This place is a fucken disaster area!" Bruce grunted angrily, "why 
didn't you just run the ivops into the yards and kill one there?"


 "Because there is a hole in the wall."


 "Well why don't you fix the bloody hole, now!" Bruce yelled at them and 
had the satisfaction of watching the head of even the fanatic drop.


 "Well what are you waiting for?" Bruce demanded.


 "We don't know how," was the eventual downcast response from some Skidian 
towards the rear of the group.


 The Skidians turned to see who had uttered such blasphemy.


 "Well it's true," the Skidian said, fidgeting uncomfortably. It wasn't 
Skidian to admit incompetence of any sort, even when the evidence of it was so 
glaring. "And don't look at me like that, aren't we supposed to be honest 
about our failings in our search for perfection and a new Skidian way?"


 But not in front of an offworlder Bruce thought. He didn't know how he 
should proceed next, carefully anyway. But what sort of society were they 
hoping to build? It would be a pretty poor place if they merely wished to live 
off the land for ever and a day.


 "I will help you if you like," Bruce suggested beginning to feel a bit 
peckish himself.


 Bruce sensed a collective sigh of relief, as if that's what the Skidians 
had been hoping for all along. Somebody to come along and look after them. But 
they weren't going to get away with it that easily.


 "Someone has to fix the hole in the yards."


 The Skidians looked at each other, what was the offworlder talking about 
now? One of the service crews should have repaired the break caused by one of 
them losing control of one of the strange ground vehicles and driving through 
the complex below the house. Recently the service crews had been conspicuous 
by their absence and failed to undertake their routine maintenance checks.


 Mischief had probably had something to do with that, no service crew had 
been sighted since his last visit and all kinds of things that had broken or 
worn out since were now sitting idle. Soon nothing would work and the 
Aotearoians worst fear would be realised.


 To remind them of their failing's which wasn't necessary at all. Here was 
the arrogant offworlder who by all accounts could survive without synfood, 
without service crews to fix things that went wrong or broke.


 He had already made an impact by indicating that they had been gathering 
the organic material from the small plant below the house incorrectly. Instead 
of the unpalatable material that had been their lot till now, Lake had 
suddenly appeared with far more diverse products than anyone had thought 
possible and announced that there had been a serious flaw in their 
understanding of the smaller organic plant. Nobody had taken the smaller plant 
seriously because it was smaller and obviously less important than the bigger 
plant on the other side of the rise from their living quarters.


 As a result, Lake would in the future only take orders from the 
offworlder.


 Not only was the offworlder reminding them all that they weren't 
competent to survive without the advantage of falling back on what remained of 
the old Skidian system as they'd confidently expressed not only among 
themselves but to Raele. But the offworlder had insinuated himself into the 
defacto role of leadership just when they were shedding the old ways and 
developing their own leadership system.


 What are they doing? Bruce wondered. The Skidians stood about, shuffling 
their feet and looking at each other, but pointedly not looking at Bruce.


 "Can you show us how?" The last Skidian who had spoken finally suggested 
as Bruce shrugged his shoulders and turned away.


 "What's your name?" Bruce asked.


 "Ues."


 "Well come on then Eus, let's see what we can do." 



 Despite their aversion to the offworlder and all that he represented, the 
way he made them feel inferior, despite their steadfast belief that he was a 
mere primitive, the Skidians at Aotearoa weren't as unwilling to learn from 
him as their peers had been. None of the Aotearoians gave much thought to how 
barely suppressed fears of fending for themselves and the horror tales of 
those of their number that had survived from hand to mouth wandering in the 
wilderness until they stumbled on Aotearoa, spurred them into action.


 The spectre of Mischief and what he might have planned for their 
community also hung over them, though it had faded into insignificance when 
compared to their survival. Besides they collectively sensed that the 
offworlder alone was probably more than a match for Mischief and his 
machinations.


 A short time later Bruce found the tractor where it had been abandoned in 
a small gully behind the stockyards and after retracing the tyre marks found 
what had crashed through the back of the yards and carried away the lead wire 
for the electric fences.


 Bruce climbed aboard, turned the key and found a gear and drove back to 
the yards.


 Back at the yards Bruce watched with amusement as some of the Skidians 
vainly tried to rejoin the splintered rails together.


 "Why don't you go and scratch around for some new planks?" Bruce asked.


 It was obvious that none of the Skidians had thought of that, even though 
there was a pile of planks stacked neatly outside the yard.


 Bruce watched the Skidians work and saw that while they didn't know what 
to do, once they had been shown, once they knew what they were about, this 
group of Skidians showed a keenness that hadn't been evident the last time he 
had been on Skid. It was if they realised that their lives really did depend 
on working, unlike the other Skidians he had met that treated life on the farm 
as some kind of distasteful joke.


 Once the gaping hole was repaired Bruce mustered a few ivops from the 
closest paddock into the yard, singled out a likely looking animal and before 
any of the Skidians knew what was going on, shot it.


 After the shot a complete silence settled over the yard, Can and Punch 
hightailed it for their kennels while Bruce took out his knife and stooped 
over the carcass.


 The Skidians wondered what was going on. Suddenly an ivop was on the 
ground and bright arterial blood was spurting from it's neck. In a matter of 
seconds the offworlder had succeeded in not only singling out an ivop to kill 
but had killed it singlehandedly and already had it half skinned before they 
realised that they should be paying attention. In seconds Bruce had done more 
to make the Skidians realise their inadequacies than anything he might have 
said.


 "What the fuck do you think you're doing?" Twesst was the knife man and 
he moved over to assist the offworlder to remove the tough unpalatable outer 
skin of the ivop, to show that they weren't totally useless.


 "I beg your pardon?"


 "You heard me, what the fuck do you think you're doing?"


 "I am going to help you remove the skin from the ivop," Tweest explained.


 "With that?" Bruce took the knife, an exact replica of his own and tested 
the edge on his thumb. "Huh, you'd be better off using a saw. Use this," he 
said taking a stele from it's pouch.


 "Whatever for?" Tweest asked.


 "Buggered if I know really."


 Bruce showed Tweest where to cut once he had shown him how to put an edge 
on his knife but it was soon clear to Tweest that the offworlder was doing it 
all wrong. By now they should all be tearing at the skin to expose the meat. 
Then offworlder stopped what he was doing and manoeuvred the tractor closer.


 Tweest concentrated on what he was doing, but kept half an eye on the 
offworlder who was jumping on and off the ground vehicle. Suddenly the carcass 
twitched and Tweest jumped away. Surely it wasn't still alive? Then Tweest 



heard the offworlder laughing at him, not only the offworlder but his fellow 
Skidians which mortified Tweest even more. Then he saw what the offworlder had 
done.


 The carcass was suspended in the air and flaps of skin were hanging down 
ready to be pulled and tugged off.


 "Makes it easier eh, shit for brains?" Bruce asked taking the Skidian's 
knife while he gawped at the half skinned ivop and put a bit of an edge on it.


 Tweest stood on the opposite side of the ivop from the offworlder and 
followed his every move. It was much easier this way Tweest saw, even his 
knife cut better.


 Soon the skin was lying on the ground underneath the carcass and the 
offworlder was disembowelling the carcass.


 That was something they had never thought about Tweest thought as the 
others moved forward ready to tear strips of meat off the carcass and stuff it 
into their mouths.


 "What the fuck do you think you're doing?" Bruce barked as some of the 
Skidians reached towards the carcass grasping strips of flesh and fat and 
tryng to rip them away.


 "This is our meal. . . .


 "Like fuck it is," Bruce retorted," not yet it isn't." Bruce was a little 
surprised to hear a low growl from the Skidians like a dog that was having 
it's bone pinched.


 "I'm not that bloody stupid," Cop retorted, "Punch and Can maybe but not 
me!" Cop growled and the Skidians retreated a safe distance.


 "Hey you," Bruce pointed at two of the Skidians, "drag this away and bury 
it," he said, pointing to the guts laying on the ground beside the ivop.


 After they had dragged it a few metres away the Skidians fell upon the 
offal as if they hadn't eaten in months. Bruce watched disgustedly as the 
Skidians in no time at all had blood up to their armpits, blood and gore 
dripping off their faces. Some of them were even trying to strip the flesh 
from the skin in their desperation.


 "What are they doing that for?" Bruce turned to Tweest who was looking as 
though he really wanted to join the orgy.


 "They don't know when they might have a chance to eat again."


 "That lot would be far better off watching what we're doing," Bruce said 
shaking his head sadly. "They're as mad as meat axes," he muttered under his 
breath.


 nine


 "Do the people back at the ranch think like Mischief and his cronies?" 
Mitch asked as they sped away from the industrial complex.


 "They want something called collective leadership there, they want to 
vote for their leader," Raele replied, shaking his head not understanding how 
they had developed such bizarre notions.


 "A power crazy megalomaniac on one hand and a bunch of commies on the 
other, not a happy state of affairs. I wonder what the rest are like?"


 Raele didn't understand what Mitch meant and didn't really think he 
wanted to know. Nor did he want to know what fledgling power structures were 
sprouting elsewhere around the planet. Not just yet.


 "Voting for a leader isn't all that bad a thing," Mitch ventured, "but 
this business of dictatorships and collective leadership has got to be stamped 
out quickly." He added letting his own well developed prejudices surface.


 At least they agreed on something Raele thought, wondering if it was such 
a good idea to lean too heavily on Mitch. Already he felt as if events were 
moving out of his control, as if he were on the verge of tumbling headfirst 
into an abyss, with no chance of saving himself.


 First; the Aotearoians had rebelled against him after pledging their 
support for his leadership. Then Mischief had developed grandiose delusions of 



power. The only bright spot was that Mischief had been quickly brought to 
heel, but what damage had been done in the process?


 Already a significant number of Skidians had experienced life without a 
chief mati and were getting used to the idea of making some of their own 
decisions, could they ever be brought back into the fold?


 And what of the other Skidians he hadn't even sought out yet? Raele tried 
to grasp the size of the job ahead of him and failed. He suddenly felt as if 
it was all too much for him, the task seemed to stretch away into the future 
and he couldn't imagine where it might end.


 "What are they doing down there?" Mitch asked, breaking into Raele's 
train of uncertainty.


 "Where?" Raele asked following the direction of Mitch's pointing finger.


 Raele banked the patrol craft and looked downward on a primeval scene. A 
group of desperate Skidians, emaciated, clad in the filthy tattered remains of 
their robes were milling around the body of an ivop.


 Raele watched as several of the group raised large stones into the air 
and brought them down on the head of the ivop. Raele thought he could see 
bright red blood spurting into the air as the ivop suddenly lurched to it's 
feet, leaving several of the Skidians in it's wake and stumbled off.


 Immediately the Skidians were onto it again, knocking it to the ground 
again and this time it didn't stir again.


 "Christ," Mitch muttered as the Skidians tore at the carcass, tearing 
away strips of skin from wherever they could and stuffing bloody flesh and 
offal into their mouths.


 Mitch was stunned by the sight of the Skidians tearing at the bloody 
flesh with their bare hands almost totally oblivious of his presence. A few 
heads swung their way as they gingerly stepped off the craft but most of them 
were too engrossed in their impromptu orgy to give the visitors a second 
glance.


 In his time Mitch had experienced some pretty devastating sights, mainly 
second hand via reports on the television or special briefings, which he 
thought had affected him. To the point where he had mobilised the vast 
resources of his country to help where he could. But here standing on a planet 
far from home the full impact of the misery suffered by people after a 
disaster of any kind struck home.


 He had seen people in rags before, seen people waiting patiently for food 
that wouldn't arrive in time to save their emaciated bodies. He'd seen people 
vainly scrabbling through the wreckage of their homes after a tidal wave or 
earthquake. He'd watched reporters and various public figures imploring the 
wealthy to assist the disaster stricken, using their promotional abilities to 
prick at consciences, stirring the nations guilt which was assuaged by band 
aids that lasted until the next catastrophe. Mitch had squirmed in frustration 
as he tried to deal with obdurate leaders who wouldn't accept aid with strings 
attached, while their people starved and squirmed even more when he was 
pilloried by his electorate for failing to act.


 But he'd never felt as impotent as he felt now or felt a greater urge to 
do something practical to help .


 "We must do something"


 "What do you mean?" Raele appeared surprised by the question. It hadn't 
occurred to him that he could do anything, except maybe point them in the 
general direction of Aotearoa.


 "We must do something to help these people."


 "Like what? Raele asked, not thinking about the patrol craft that could 
easily transport this small group of Skidians to Aotearoa, a patrol craft that 
carried ample supplies of synfood. Instead he made sure his dazierawogga was 
ready for instant action in case the situation turned nasty.


 "What about food? There must be food aboard and clothes," Mitch added," 
and couldn't we transport these Skidians to Aotearoa?"


 "Yes, but why should we do that?"


 "Raele you want to lead these people, why don't you show some 



leadership?"


 Raele's mind wasn't focused on the scene as Mitch's was, though he 
couldn't help but wonder how a Skidian could stoop let himself or herself go 
as these ones had.


 "But what about our meeting with Mischief?"


 "Oh fuck Mischief, we can deal with that ratbag later. First lets do 
something for these poor sods." Mitch didn't wait for Raele's reaction and 
walked up to the group.


 They were an even more pitiable group at closer range. Bony arms and 
legs, covered in open sores stuck out of their dirty torn robes. They all wore 
dull, desperate expressions, now splattered with blood and gore as they feebly 
tore at the dead animal's carcass. Most of them didn't even have access to 
where the flesh was bared Mitch saw, the weaker ones being pushed out of the 
way. They didn't appear to have decent weapons either, nor knives, though as 
he approached one of them raised a rock ready to throw in his general 
direction.


 "Over there is your leader," Mitch pointed to Raele, thinking as he did 
so that the simple act of saving these poor souls from their desperate 
existence would ensure they saw Raele as their saviour. "He has come with food 
and clothing and the promise of a new life."


 None of the Skidians really looked interested in what Mitch had to say. 
Slowly it seemed to occur to a couple of the weaker ones that there might be 
better pickings elsewhere.


 Weakly they made their way toward the space ship and then broke into a 
painful parody of a run that made Mitch wince just to watch them as a robot 
appeared at the patrol craft's door pushing a trolley laden with synfood.


 Mitch was almost caught in the crush as the rest of the Skidians suddenly 
realised what was happening and rushed for the trolley. They jostled each 
other out of the way in their haste as the stronger among them shoved the weak 
out of the way. Nevertheless there was enough for all.


 Within minutes most of them were throwing up whatever they had eaten, but 
this didn't seem to deter anyone and they continued to gorge until finally 
they were sated.


 Mitch was impressed with the way Raele reacted and with the utility of 
the Skidian patrol ships. Raele might not be able to think of much himself but 
once he got the general idea he was a hard man to stop.


 While the rest of the Skidians were emptying the food trolley into 
themselves and out again Raele had set up a mini camp complete with showers, 
had laid out fresh clothing and was moving among his subjects and accepting 
their thanks with humility and grace.


 Mitch became a little indignant. Wasn't saving them his idea? After a 
moment he decided - maybe this is better and he considered just how far he 
might be able to go before Raele realised he was having his strings pulled 
like a puppet. He sat himself on the ground beside the patrol ship, half 
listening to the tales of incredible hardship and realised just how thin the 
veneer of civilisation was for perhaps all so called civilised people.


 The remnants of Skid that he had been exposed to seemed to indicate a 
well ordered and highly sophisticated society supported by a level of 
technology that made his head swim. As soon as the Skidians experienced a 
break down in order and were failed by their technology,this group at least, 
had rapidly degenerated into something primitive and quite frightening. 
Resorting to cannibalism, living off corpses and worse when their world 
crashed in around them. They had barely survived where most of their fellows 
had perished. Who were the lucky ones?


 Now, full of food, freshly clothed and washed, secure in the presence of 
a leader who's right to rule they recognised, these Skidians were transformed 
once again to their former selves. Or almost. The trauma of their experiences 
would stick with them for a good long while, if they ever went.


 I wonder what they will want now? To return to their cocooned former 
existences or would they strive for more control over their own lives? Mitch 



thought they would more than likely opt for the former approach. Having 
experienced a life of deprivation they would go for the option that ensured a 
life of security and full bellies and to hell with anything else. Mitch 
couldn't find it in himself to blame them and thought it would be rather 
interesting to see how they mixed with the Aotearoians.


 ten


 Bruce could understand why the Skidians were getting restless, he was 
feeling more than a bit peckish himself.


 Several times in the last half hour first Ues then Tweest had sidled up 
to him asking when they might be able to eat.


 "When it's ready," Bruce had replied each time, standing guard over the 
growing pile of meat beside the grill. Under his direction the Skidians had 
set up a table made of planks, set out some plates and eating gear and under 
the guidance of Sue and Iaut, the gardener had filled bowls with fresh 
vegetables. The garden wouldn't be big enough anymore, Bruce reckoned and made 
a mental note to do something about that as he prodded a few chunks of meat 
and then took a long drink from his jug of beer.


 Bruce would have much rather entrusted the job of cooking the meat to one 
of the Skidians but none of them seemed keen to learn, apparently assuming 
that he was taking up the role of food provider, waiting on them hand and foot 
as it had always been for them. Perhaps they were impatient because they 
didn't see any reason that the meat needed to be cooked. They'd soon learn he 
thought. Besides he didn't think any of them, fresh from discovering that 
their food supply had been chopped could keep their mitts off the meat before 
it was ready.


 "Bruce? It was Ues's turn to ask the tentative question.


 "Yes?" Bruce replied rounding on him mildly.


 "Is it time yet?"


 "Yes, grab your eating gear." Bruce wondered how hungry they were because 
collectively they had made short work of the offal. It made Bruce churn 
inside just to think about what raw ivop guts might taste like. He rather 
thought they would devour the food before them in much the same way as anybody 
else would who was uncertain where their next meal would come from.


 Bruce stood back and watched the Skidians fall on the pile of meat like 
pigs snuffling and squealing into their troughs at feeding time. Bruce hoped 
there was enough to go around and left them to it.


 Walking inside Bruce saw a large shadow pass overhead and looked up to 
see Raele landing his space ship. He hoped it was Raele anyhow after the space 
ship disgorged eight or nine emaciated figures who made directly for the table 
laden with food.


 "Where did you find them?" Bruce asked Mitch as stood watching the two 
disparate groups collide.


 "Just a bunch of half starved Skidians we found wandering about," he 
grunted as a howl of disappointment rose from the new bunch of Skidians who 
had clearly been expecting better fare now that they had regained 
semi-civilised environment.


 After their initial disappointment they jostled their way to the where 
the food was, pushing the Aotearoians out of the way in a most un-Skid like 
fashion, ignoring the angry frowns of the locals in their haste not to be left 
out.


 "A pretty desperate bunch by the look of them."


 "Oh yes," Mitch replied and described the scene he and Raele had come 
upon. 



 "I think they're going to be a bit disappointed, because all they could 
talk about was how they were looking forward to returning to normal," Mitch 
added. "I don't think they were expecting this at all," he said meaning 
Aotearoa. "I don't think any of them realise that there is no returning to 
normal." Mitch continued in a thoughtful vein.


 "Yeah," Bruce grunted as if to say he didn't give a stuff either way. He 
didn't, he didn't really know what he was doing anymore. Suddenly he wasn't 
excited about being back on Skid and wanted to bugger off home with Sue and 
the baby. He had better things to do than act as a nursemaid to a bunch of 
ungrateful Skidians. Didn't know that he wanted a wife and kid either, but he 
sensed he was stuck with them.


 Mitch sensed that Bruce wasn't in the mood to enter into a philosophic 
conversation, wasn't interested in the least in the plans germinating in his 
mind. He thought correctly that Bruce probably wasn't in the least bit 
interested in the political development of Skid.


 "Did you know that most of the women here are pregnant?" Mitch tried 
another tack.


 "Raele told me he had stopped some sort of contraceptive being added to 
the food ages ago. I think he has visions of a baby farm of some kind," Bruce 
chuckled. "He's on the right track there I reckon. There's not much use 
worrying about anything if there's not going to be anybody left after a few 
years is there?"


 That was something I hadn't considered, Mitch realised, surprised by the 
discovery that Bruce contemplated things more than he had given him credit 
for.


 "Apparently some of them down there are doctors of some kind," Bruce 
began, meaning they had been selected by Inel on the basis they could look 
after simple problems like child birth. "Can you believe that? I reckon you'd 
have to be pretty desperate to be worked on by one of them."


 "I can see you have a very high opinion of the Skidians Bruce."


 "Oh not really, nah that's not fair. They're just different that's all, 
what do you think we'd be like if we had lived the way they used to?"


 Mitch shuddered to think. Then it struck him that so many of the people 
he personally knew had lived in insulated cocoons totally unaware that there 
was a whole world around them that existed on another level. Many other 
levels, Mitch recognised guiltily how insular and isolationist he really had 
been, sure that his was the one and only way.


 "Want something to eat?" Bruce didn't know that he really wanted to eat 
himself.


 "I guess so," Mitch murmured, watching Raele shake off some of the new 
arrivals who were obviously unhappy with their new home. Mitch shook his head 
wondering how he was going to make a decent leader out of Raele. His first 
rule of politics was to keep the people happy, or make them feel good. Raele 
wasn't doing that, he looked as though he was trying to ignore something 
smelly that he'd walked in, without much success.


 Raele wrinkled his nose, grimaced and tried to push the supplicants away 
without success where he should have stopped to talk, even if he only made the 
right noises.


 Bruce heard the baby cry somewhere in the house and it occurred to him 
that he should get up and do something. Exactly what Bruce didn't know. Walk 
around with it, stick a dummy in it's mouth, tell Sue to deal with it. If it 
had been a lamb, a pup or a calf he'd know what to do. Ignore the bloody thing 
until it was time for it's feed. But a baby what the hell should he do with a 
crying baby?


 "Can you look at the baby Bruce?" Sue called from the door, "your 
dinners' just about ready."


 "Bruce had just about decided that ignorance was probably the best 
policy. Still he thought, I'd better do something. He rose wearily and headed 
in the general direction of the crying baby.


 His son, immediately stopped squawking when it sensed Bruce's presence 



standing over him and stared upwards at his father with what could have been 
an inquiring look on his face.


 Ugly little shit, Bruce decided. As he reached down the baby stretched 
his own arms up and grabbed his father round his neck. Bruce wasn't quite 
sure how to grab the little mite and wasn't all that happy about the way he 
was being pinched by the tiny little hands at his neck.


 The baby felt so tiny and fragile in his arms, and very wet Bruce quickly 
discovered.


 He looked around the room and found a pile of material that could be 
nappies. They'll do anyway he decided setting about changing the baby's nappy 
much to it's disgust.


 It began to squeal again and pump it's little legs. "I'm obviously doing 
something wrong," Bruce muttered, eventually gathering up the baby and the 
nappies and taking him through to the kitchen for his mother to deal with.


 "Thank's Bruce," Sue said in a voice dripping with irony.


 "No worries." Bruce said depositing the baby on the floor where he 
couldn't get into too much trouble.


 "Bruce! What did you do that for?"


 "He'll be ok, won't he?" Bruce asked helplessly.


 "Oh I s'pose so."


 Gratefully Bruce walked out onto the deck and sat at the table where 
quite a little crowd had gathered.


 Raele sat stiffly with his back to the rest of the Aotearoians who had 
gathered below the deck and were talking among themselves. Mistril and Iaut 
looked full of themselves, as if by sitting at the table in the presence of 
Raele and the offworlders they had suddenly achieved some kind of dubious 
status. Mitch looked on with his mouth curling in amusement. Bruce thought he 
could have done without it and retreated to the kitchen. Better a squalling 
baby than that lot he thought.


 But the kitchen was empty and Bruce suddenly felt totally isolated and 
left out, a supernumerary. Now what? It wasn't as if he was really needed 
around the place and if he wasn't what the hell was he going to do? The 
Skidians would make out somehow and necessity was a great motivator, they 
wouldn't go hungry.


 Neither would he, Bruce didn't let this new melancholy prevent him from 
eating or having a few more beers.


 "What are you doing in here?" Sue asked from the doorway as Bruce stared 
moodily into a glass of beer. He couldn't articulate his thoughts and was 
tempted to tell Sue to buzz off when she hugged him around the neck and told 
him it'd be alright.


 "I guess so," he replied,not believing for one minute that it would be.


 eleven


 Mischief looked like any other tinpot dictator, albeit a lot less 
confident than some Mitch had seen. He appeared somewhat cowed as he stood 
alone on the deck of the space ship staring at the man he had sought to 
supplant and another who obviously wasn't of his world.


 My presence alone would be enough to make him uneasy Mitch sensed. His 
being an outsider, Mischief could not know what he represented and probably 
didn't appreciate an audience for what would come next. No matter how you said 
it, failure was still failure and he had failed dismally.


 "So we need help from outside," Mischief sneered with what he thought 
amounted to contempt. He failed and Mitch couldn't help but think that he made 
a pathetic spectacle standing there with nothing but a fancy title, insignia 
on his breast and a weapon that Raele quietly informed him wasn't operable 
anyway, dangling ostentatiously from his neck to make him feel he was 
something.


 Not for the first time Mitch wondered how such and ignorant looking 



character could run roughshod over his fellows and set himself up as their 
leader.


 Neither Raele nor Mitch dignified Mischief's sneer with an 
acknowledgement and Mischief seemed to decline in stature as the moments 
passed by.


 "By what right do you seek to set yourself above other Skidians?" Raele 
asked at length.


 "I, er." Mischief mouth worked but his brain obviously wasn't connected 
properly. "Because we felt we needed some kind of leadership and nobody else 
wanted the job, especially as you yourself had entrusted me with certain 
tasks," he managed at last and Mitch discovered a truism of Skid. They all 
waited for somebody else to do something.


 "And the results of the tasks that I set you?" Raele demanded.


 "I do not have the information with me," the empty shell that had so 
recently lorded itself over his fellows muttered unhappily.


 "We can get the information readily enough by accessing the complexes 
databank," Raele reminded him gently, knowing full well that Mischief hadn't 
done as he was ordered.


 "Possibly."


 "You wouldn't lie to me, would you Mischief?"


 "Of course not," Mischief lied, staring at his feet.


 "What do your people desire, the people you allegedly represent and care 
for? For you are responsible for your people whether you are aware of that or 
not."


 "I don't really know what they want, they don't know what they want." 
Mischief had found out quickly that being a leader wasn't all it was cracked 
up to be. It wasn't just about telling people what to do and the pleasant 
sensation of exercising power, which was what he had thought. It was all about 
having a vision for the future, a sense of direction that Mischief knew he 
didn't have.


 Although he was a senior technician at the complex, that wasn't a role 
that had prepared him for leadership in any fashion. He didn't really know how 
anything worked, all he knew about was how to monitor the synfood plants and 
the vast self replicating machinery that ejected various material and machines 
as part of a program he couldn't fathom. Since Raele had left him in charge 
and he had tried to make some sense of what he now controlled. Mischief had 
come to the conclusion the more he learnt the more he realised it was beyond 
him.


 Making himself responsible for the complex had underlined his sense of 
helplessness, as if he were in charge of a patrol ship but not in control of 
where in the universe it travelled.


 Then there was the insistent clamouring from the other inhabitants of the 
complex who decided that because he was in charge he had to know what was 
happening. When would life return to normal? When could they take leave to 
visit their families, their home prefectures? Few of them seemed to understand 
that their families were no more and their home prefectures nothing but dirty 
piles of ash and rubble. Safe in the complex, well provided for as they had 
always been, the impact of the disaster that had befallen Skid had yet to sink 
in.


 These matters and more gnawed at Mischief as he relied on his fellow 
Skidians traditional respect for leaders to prevent them from pushing him too 
far. Despite the delight at having power over his fellows and the trappings of 
leadership he was almost glad that Raele had returned to confront him. If he 
survived the meeting he intended to put himself fully at Raele's disposal, as 
leader of the complex or not. Surely Raele would need somebody he could trust 
there to do his bidding? Mischief hoped so, ignoring the matter of his recent 
disloyalty and his loss of face when Raele had confronted him.


 "Have you not sought to increase the size of your self proclaimed 
republic?"


 It took Mischief a few moments to realise what Raele was alluding too. 



When he did he flushed with embarrassment.


 Acting more or less in accordance with Raele's instructions he had sought 
out other Skidian communities. His experience with the first such community 
living out in the wilderness had decided him against any further such 
endeavours.


 Quite apart from their ungratefulness at being invited to join his 
republic, a term he had gleaned from delving into the planet's archives with 
the limited access that Raele had allowed him, they had confronted him in such 
an unheard of militant fashion that after delivering a few empty threats of 
his own he had decided it was safer to leave them to their own devices for the 
time being and retreat in a dignified fashion.


 What his next move would have been if he had realised the fear and 
uncertainty he had put into the community of Aotearoa was something that he 
would never be know.


 "Not really."


 "That's not what my intelligence sources tell me," Mitch said joining the 
fray and further confusing Mischief. Who was he?


 "Then your intelligence sources are misinformed," Mischief spat 
contemptuously, as if to say 'you are not a Skidian so what do you know?'


 "If you say so," Mitch drawled, "but we know better."


 "Who is this, this....? Mischief obviously hadn't gotten a handle on who 
or what Mitch was yet.


 "Mitch is an advisor I picked up on my travels," Raele replied casually.


 "You should have left him behind." Generations of conditioning about 
racial supremacy were impossible to conceal.


 "I find him quite useful."


 'Thank's Raele,' Mitch thought.


 "We did have a job in mind for you Mischief, but I don't think you're up 
to it myself," Mitch said and had the satisfaction of seeing Mischief almost 
shrink, downwards and away from him.


 "I don't think so either," Raele said flipping out his dazierwogga and 
aiming at Mischief.


 Mischief clumsily fumbled for his own weapon, franticly scrabbling at the 
front of his robe where it had caught. Finally his trembling hand gripped the 
weapon, pointing it's wavering muzzle in the general direction of Mitch and 
Raele. It crossed his mind that he hoped he looked as if he couldn't decide on 
who to shoot first, the lesser of two failures. The truth was that he couldn't 
hold the muzzle on any target. Mischief closed his eyes and waited for the 
end, wondering what it would feel like and squeezed the trigger


 He was amazed that he felt nothing, surely there must be some sort of 
sound? Mischief had never used the weapon before, not even to test it, but he 
had always been confident that it would operate if he needed to use it.


 "Your dazierwiogga isn't armed Mischief," Raele told him as Mischief 
imagined he had taken the two men confronting him, with him into the after 
life.


 Mischief opened his eyes wondering what he would find and found he was 
still alive. He felt his chest begin to heave painfully and something beat 
like a drum in there, moisture began to collect around his eyes. For a few 
moments all he could do was suck air into his lungs and wipe the moisture 
which now streamed down his face, unsure whether to be relieved at finding 
himself still alive or apprehensive as to his future. What horrors did Raele 
and his advisor might have in store for him?


 While Mischief was discovering that he was still alive, Mitch didn't 
think he looked a very happy fellow. He was glad that he hadn't been 
responsible for that. Mitch had been responsible for a few deaths in his time, 
but they were of the impersonal kind.


 Soldiers fighting dirty little wars in the areas of perceived interest to 
his nation and the like which had never troubled him. But here, this was real, 
this was personal and even though he wouldn't have pulled the trigger he 
reckoned that he would have felt responsible for Mischief's death. 



 But he and Raele had other plans for Mischief and Raele had decided to 
scare him into obedience.


 "No matter how strong and powerful you think you are Mischief, I am 
stronger and much more powerful," Raele told the trembling Skidian who had 
slumped to his knees in a parody of supplication. Mitch wondered whether his 
next move would be to kiss Raele's feet or something.


 "Remember this when you return to your republic, you exist at my pleasure 
and so does your republic.


 Mischief was too stunned to reply, not only was he still alive but he 
believed he was hearing Raele say he was being sent back to the industrial 
complex as it's leader?


 "Our world has changed," Raele continued, "we need to work hard to return 
Skid to it's former glory and there are almost too few of us to do this, we 
cannot afford to discard anybody from this process at this crucial period in 
our history. Do you understand me Mischief?"


 Mischief didn't really, but in the time honoured traditions of his race 
he nodded his head.


 "What role could you play in the reconstruction of Skid Mischief?" Mitch 
asked.


 "Ah," Mischief hadn't given that concept any thought.


 "To maintain the industrial complex perhaps," Mitch suggested," and to 
actively offer support and assistance to the other communities on Skid, to 
actively seek out these communities?"


 "Yes," Mischief replied ambiguously. Neither he nor Mitch, nor Raele were 
uncertain as to what he meant.


 "The Skidians at Aotearoa will need medical assistance for example, those 
still wandering around the wilderness need to be brought to a place of 
safety."


 "Yes I understand." Mischief had seen some of these wild bands of 
Skidians and steered a wide path around them, they seemed to have reverted to 
a savage and primitive state. They appeared much more dangerous than the 
misguided souls that had refused his assistance at the place called Aotearoa.


 "And you must ask the members of your own republic what they want, what 
they want from a new Skid."


 They didn't want much, Mischief decided knowing the task was beyond him, 
he was already doomed to failure. In reality Raele didn't expect much and 
didn't know how these expectations could be achieved either. The ideas were 
all Mitch's, outlined and reliably regurgitated. Raele hoped that Mitch knew 
what he was doing and how he would go about it, just as Raele hoped that Bruce 
back at Aotearoa knew what he was doing.


 Raele certainly didn't understand what Mitch meant by suggesting they set 
up a simple economy, swapping the produce of Aotearoa for technical assistance 
from the industrial complex. How could he make the people of the complex eat 
the organic food when they had the production of the largest synfood plants to 
draw on?


 Raele had quickly forgotten that the failure of the synfood plants for 
whatever reason was the cause of his planet's present predicament. But he 
dutifully repeated Mitch's demand that a rudimentary barter economy and the 
basis for an education system be established which would lead to the enforced 
intermingling of people from all over the planet.


 Mitch had plans for the sort of political meetings and conventions that 
he was used to back home to sell his idea of democracy and discover what the 
feelings of the Skidians were for political change. He assumed that the people 
would want change, that they realised their old feudal hereditary system with 
little input from the unwashed was dead an buried. He assumed that the 
Skidians wanted change, would demand change, just as his own country had 
thrown off colonial rule as soon as they got the chance and developed a 
system of government that had been copied right around the world.


 But those things were for the future, Mischief and the others like him, 
that Mitch was sure they'd find around the planet, would have enough trouble 



coping with his initial tasks let alone dealing with a fundamental 
reconstruction of the very culture that had sustained them for longer than 
anybody knew.


 The meeting was suddenly over. One moment Mischief was standing their 
looking as if he was burdened by the collective woes of the planet, obviously 
not really understanding what was required of him and the next Raele had 
flipped a button and he was gone.


 Mitch had expected something more or less of the meeting. He wasn't sure 
what he expected. He had expected Mischief to ask questions to demur on some 
points and suggest other ideas. But there was none of that,it was as if 
Mischief had received his orders from on high and was off to implement them. 
What a wasted effort Mitch thought as Raele said: "I think that went rather 
well don't you?" Raele was pleased with himself, he had conducted the 
confrontation just as Mitch had suggested.


 Mitch groaned inwardly and realised that there was much he didn't 
understand about the Skidians or their planet. He couldn't understand how they 
expected that things would just happen if they said it would. He had never 
experienced Skid when just saying was usually tantamount to having something 
done because it was achieved by a system that on the most part didn't involve 
Skidians themselves. There was a whole system that controlled, built, 
monitored, and maintained almost every aspect of Skidian life as evidenced by 
the ongoing reconstruction of the practically empty Skidian cities without any 
input from the Skidians themselves.


 He also realised that he probably didn't need to understand all that much 
to run the place. Afterall he didn't know all that much about his own world 
and the way that it had operated, all he had to guide him were set of firmly 
fixed principles which had been enough to take him to the highest office in 
his land.


 He'd done a fairly good job there hadn't he? Mitch liked to think so 
anyway. It was only in his darkest moments that he truthfully appraised his 
life and found that he could have done better.


 That too often he fallen back on expediency to boost his falling ratings 
or repay old debts and had employed the transparent political chicanery of 
those he despised in order get what he wanted.


 twelve


 A sudden commotion from the direction of the dog kennels woke Bruce. He 
lay there in the darkness for several moments before realising that something 
was wrong. Then one of them yelped as if it had been struck. They certainly 
weren't happy about something.


 Bruce leapt out of bed and ran through the house, out the back door and 
into the night illuminated by a full moon. He could see a group of Skidians 
milling around the kennels and heard a thud as if they were attacking the 
kennels with a lump of wood. The dogs were barking madly, spitting and 
snarling.


 "What the fuck's going on here?" Bruce demanded angrily as he came upon 
the group unnoticed.


 "We want to eat them," one of the Skidians said from the darkness. 
Evidently they had decided that the dogs would be easier prey than an ivop.


 "What? Get away from there or I'll let them eat you!" Bruce yelled 
angrily. But the Skidians didn't budge an inch, several of them continued 
beating at the kennels, ignoring him.


 In the moonlight Bruce recognised these Skidians as the ones that Raele 
had dropped off a few days previously. They'd been nothing but trouble since, 
grizzling about the food, the lack of accommodation and wanting to go home as 
soon as possible. Bruce had just ignored them, they weren't his problem, even 
though they seemed to think it was. For some reason these Skidians seemed to 
think he was there to look after them. Bruce didn't really know why he was 



there at all, but it certainly wasn't to baby sit any Skidians.


 "Find something for us to eat," one of them demanded from the out of the 
darkness.


 "Get lost," said Bruce walking up to one of the Skidians bashing away at 
the kennel. He grabbed the length of syn timber the Skidian was holding and 
whacked him around the backside.


 "Yoww!" Screamed the Skidian, more surprised that he had been hit, than 
hurt.


 "You blouse. I didn't hit you that hard!"


 The rest of the Skidians stood motionless, silent except for their heavy 
breathing and Bruce suddenly remembered that these Skidians probably wouldn't 
be phased by violence as the more civilised ones were if what Mitch had said 
was true.


 "Go on, piss off." Bruce waved the piece of timber around and then turned 
to check on his dogs. He let them out one by one and they showed their relief 
at being saved from the cooking pot by jumping up and trying to lick him on 
the face.


 The Skidians slowly dispersed, Bruce could make their figures out 
meandering up the hill towards the sleeping quarters that had been assigned 
them.


 Skid was a much more dangerous place now, Bruce had always felt the 
Skidians had a hostile nature that was held in check by the Skidian way. With 
the Skidian way breaking down along with everything else there was nothing to 
stop the Skidians exhibiting their true nature.


 The Aotearoans were subdued which was probably natural, they were 
probably more apprehensive than anything else. These other ones were like wild 
animals with a veneer of sophistication, Bruce reckoned he'd better watch not 
only his dogs, but his back as well.


 As if to reinforce this theory several rocks struck the ground above him 
and he could here the jeers of the departing Skidians as they disappeared.


 Well they're not that brave Bruce said to himself but this development 
was disturbing nonetheless. It showed just how fragile the threads that held 
society were and how quickly they could break when the system broke down as it 
had in Skid.


 Bruce wondered what Raele was doing about reasserting his authority, a 
good swift kick where it hurt wouldn't go amiss he thought wondering whether 
he should administer the first dose himself.


 He walked over and inspected the dog kennels. Despite the attack they 
hadn't suffered any structural damage and the Skidians despite their well 
publicised technological superiority hadn't realised that simply pressing a 
depression on the door would open them. The dogs would be ok in there, but 
even safer if he left them off.


 Bruce made his way back to the house and found Sue breast feeding the 
infant.


 "What was all the noise about?"


 "Oh just some of those new Skidians trying to eat the dogs."


 "The poor things," Sue commented. Bruce didn't know whether she meant the 
dogs or the Skidians. "Why would they want to do that?"


 "I dunno really, I guess they don't realise that the dogs aren't for 
eating, do you reckon I should make that clear, and a few other things as 
well?"


 "What other things Bruce?" Sue detected the almost irrational streak in 
Bruce that she remembered from before. He was likely to go off on all sorts of 
emotional tangents at the drop of a hat or lose his temper over the slightest 
provocation.


 "Well I'm the boss around here," Bruce gently reminded her, "and if I say 
go do something, I mean go do it. Besides I'm not going to have these wankers 
throwing rocks or sniggering at me because they think I won't do anything 
about it."


 "Since when are you the boss ?" 



 "Since this is my place, I built it up after all."


 "That doesn't make you the boss Bruce."


 "Ok, I'm going to be the boss because I want to be, how's that?"


 "Oh come on Bruce, you have no right to tell these people what to do, 
this is their planet afterall." But she knew as she made the comment that it 
wouldn't stop Bruce and she didn't know that she wanted him to. She felt a 
little vulnerable herself. In the past she had sensed that Skidian men had 
viewed her with some distaste and had no sexual interest in her at all. While 
she resented the former sensation the latter one relieved her and helped her 
to feel safe. But now as she moved around the place she felt eyes following 
her, appraising her in a frank sexual manner. It was as if they had all 
suddenly discovered sex, the number of female Skidians who seemed to be 
pregnant testified to that.


 She looked up and saw Bruce looking down at her with a disturbed look on 
his face.


 "What's the matter?" He asked with concern.


 "Oh," she shrugged her shoulders, "I don't really know, I feel a little 
bit uneasy that's all."


 "Maybe we should leave?"


 "Leave, leave where?" Sue laughed at the idiocy of the statement.


 "Oh I don't know, somewhere different, it's not as if we have to stay 
here is it?"


 "Oh I suppose not." But Sue didn't really want to leave, apart from the 
Skidians she felt comfortable at Aotearoa. Maybe the Skidians would leave. I 
doubt that too, she decided.


 Something struck the roof and rolled all the way down, eventually falling 
to the ground with a thud. Another rock or whatever struck the roof and then 
another, accompanied by the laughing and jeering of a group of Skidians 
standing at the edge of the light thrown out by the outside lights.


 "What's going on out there Bruce?" Sue asked, flinching, suddenly really 
frightened as something out struck the side of the house.


 "Just the local vandals playing silly buggers. I'll sort them out."


 Bruce walked calmly out to the ute which was parked between the house and 
the unruly mob of Skidians and reached inside for the rifle sitting on the 
brackets behind the seat.


 He looked up at the mob of Skidians and noticed that their numbers had 
swelled as if somebody had been doing some stirring, had whipped up the crowd 
with their demagoguery. One of them appeared to be inciting the crowd, Bruce 
couldn't hear what he was saying but he was definitely pointing towards the 
house and another shower of rocks and stones were flung out of the darkness in 
it's general direction.


 Taking a closer look Bruce could see another larger group of Skidians who 
he recognised as the inhabitants of Aotearoa off to one side and wondered what 
they were doing. Even to his untrained eye, Bruce had never seen an angry mob, 
a riot unless you counted an spooked mob of cattle, the situation looked 
dangerous. The mob of Skidians was inching forward and more rocks came 
hurtling out of the night hitting the house. Why it should be their target he 
didn't know, he couldn't work out why the Skidians were so upset. Would they 
really have preferred to stay put out in the wilderness where just to stay 
alive was a struggle almost beyond them?


 In fact the two groups of Skidians seemed to be taking more interest in 
each other than in the house as they faced off. Bruce couldn't work that one 
out either. The original mob wasn't moving toward the house any longer but 
toward the group of Skidians that comprised the original members of Aotearoa.


 There was a lot of talking and finger wagging going on and Bruce could 
clearly see that both groups had armed themselves with lengths of syn timber 
and rocks, but for the moment they weren't doing much more than intimidating 
each other. They had to know that they could hurt each other with their 
primitive weapons. Maybe they were just reluctant to do so.


 Bruce was glad that none of them had access to real weapons otherwise one 



or more of them might pluck up the courage to use them and there would be a 
real bloodbath. But over what? Bruce asked himself. It wasn't as if they 
didn't already have a leader in Raele, it wasn't as if they were going to go 
hungry, it wasn't as if they needed to scrap over resources. They probably had 
just realised that their world had changed irrecovably and were looking for 
someone to blame, maybe they didn't know that those Skidians were all dead or 
maybe they were just too thick to understand that things could never be the 
same again.


 "What's going on out there Bruce?"


 Bruce glanced upwards and saw Sue on the veranda holding the baby with a 
couple of Skidians peering nervously over her shoulder.


 "Dunno really, but you'd better get back inside in case things get 
nasty."


 "What about you Bruce?"


 "Eh?" Bruce hadn't given any thought to his own safety, "Oh I'll be ok."


 "Please be careful dear," said Sue as she disappeared into the house. 
Bruce heard the door slide shut behind her.


 He pointed the rifle upwards and pulled the trigger. Can and Punch 
immediately whined and made a beeline for the underside of the ute but Cop 
followed him eagerly up the hill.


 The sound of the shot seemed to have little effect on the Skidians and 
Bruce realised they didn't associate it with death, injury or somebody 
asserting authority even though most of them had seen the sort of damage he 
could do to the head of an ivop.


 "What's going on here?" Bruce demanded stepping into the space between 
the two groups of Skidians.


 Bruce saw the tense and angry expressions on the faces of the Skidians on 
both sides and wondered whether he had done the right thing. A knot tightened 
in his stomach and the hairs on the back of his neck stood up and he felt his 
heart beat faster as adrenalin trickled into his blood stream.


 'Now what boss?' Bruce had forgotten that Cop could speak to him.


 "Oh bite your bum," Bruce muttered,if there was one thing he could do 
without, that was a smart arse dog. He easily evaded a rock that came flying 
out of the darkness towards him. "Bite his instead why don't you?"


 Cop snarled, leapt into the darkness and moments later their was an 
anguished cry as Cop nipped the backside of a Skidian sending Bruce a mental 
image as he did so. Bruce thought Cop was overdoing it a bit as he growled and 
snarled, worrying the Skidian.


 The crowd of Skidians parted around the dog and the unfortunate one now 
flat on his back being licked to death by three dogs.


 The sight seemed to break the tension and several of them even started 
laughing in a nervous sort of way, as if they were relieved that some other 
Skidian was in trouble and not themselves.


 "What seems to be the trouble here?" Bruce asked repeated.


 "We are hungry."


 "They are not abiding by the rules of this community."


 "We want to return to our homes."


 "They are disrupting the stability of our community with their demands."


 "We want Raele to be our leader."


 "Where is the synfood?"


 "Where are the stim games?"


 "Where are the service crews?"


 "How are we supposed to live out here?"


 Bruce was inundated by demands and claims of the Skidians who now crowded 
around him pushing forward, talking over the top of others and insisting they 
be heard.


 After several minutes Bruce shook his head and raised his hands for 
silence without any noticeable effect on the clamour that was threatening to 
overwhelm him.


 "For fucks' sake shut up will you!" He yelled to everyone in general, 



"you're not going to solve anything by jumping up and down and yelling at each 
other, are you?"


 The talk subsided to an angry murmur while Bruce tried to decide what to 
do next. It looked as if he had diffused the near riot but he understood that 
the problems still weren't resolved.


 "Ok, that's better," he said as if addressing a crowd of kids trying to 
decide whether they were going to Mac Donalds or Georgie Pie for lunch, when 
he'd prefer good old fish'n' chips himself.


 "Um, what about you have a talk among yourselves and er, come back later 
on with your grievances and we'll see if we can sort them out?"


 "We have our community council for that!" One of the Aoteroians muttered.


 "What's a community council?" One of the new arrivals demanded, we want 
Raele to hear our demands.


 "The community council runs this community, it makes the laws and decides 
what we will do."


 "We don't like those laws and rules, we aren't represented on the 
council."


 "You only got here yesterday," said another exasperated voice.


 "So what? We're all Skidians, we all live by the same set of rules.


 "Don't you understand that life has changed on Skid?" Bruce spoke up as 
squatted, rolling himself a smoke wondering why he had even bothered 
interrupting them in the first place.


 "And who are you that you think you can tell us what to do?" An angry 
voice asked.


 Bruce stood up and looked around at the farm that was slowly becoming 
visible in the growing light of a Skidian dawn. He saw the yards and the 
fences that he had built, the ivops he had mustered and the house where he had 
lived all those months.


 "Because this is mine," he said introducing a foreign concept none of the 
Skidians understood, "because I created this place with my own hands," which 
was stretching the truth a bit," because I say so," which was the most 
significant comment he made.


 Bruce didn't quite understand why it happened but suddenly alien as he 
was the Skidians appeared for the moment to have found what they were 
searching for, somebody that assumed authority as of right which was something 
none of them had been able to do in the circumstances.


 Bruce felt the tension evaporate as if a balloon had been punctured and 
the Skidians all looked expectantly in his direction waiting to be told what 
to do.


 'Oh you will make such a fine leader boss, we have taught you everything 
we know,' Cop chuckled beside him.


 'And you can shut up too,' Bruce thought back, as he wrestled with the 
situation that confronted him. He wished it was Mitch and not he that stood 
there, at least he was used to be being a leader, what had seemed so simple 
moments before now assumed overwhelming proportions in his mind.


 "Well?" He demanded of the Skidians, "what are you waiting for?"


 After a moment the group began to disperse wondering what had happened, 
wondering what the new leader they had accepted wanted from them, wondering 
whether it was such a good idea after all.


 thirteen


 Bruce sighed and walked back to the house hoping that the Skidians would 
be too busy now squabbling among themselves to hassle him. If they were to 
survive they would have to start looking after themselves. Bruce knew he 
wasn't the person to lead them into the future by aptitude or inclination, he 
just wanted them to keep out of his hair.


 He thought about Raele, but dismissed him also. Raele might have the 
breeding and all the rest of it, but he wasn't cut out be a leader either. 



Raele possessed all the credentials, but when it came to the crunch he just 
wasn't equipped for the task. Mitch might be interested but Bruce was sure 
that if offered the choice between staying on Skid and returning home his 
choice would be clear cut.


 "Bruce!" Bruce turned around to see Ues trotting after him. He bowed in 
the way that Bruce had seen the Skidians defer to Raele.


 "Yes?"


 "Would you be so kind as to help us prepare an ivop for eating?"


 Might as well, Bruce decided. Down by the yards several figures were 
already opening and closing gates and others were marching in close formation 
down to the nearest paddock.


 "What about the others?" Bruce asked, meaning the rest of the Skidian 
community.


 "Oh they will talk, they will want to eat and they will talk again and do 
nothing, just as they always have," Ues added contemptuously.


 "And you?


 "Oh some of us understand that we need to do something, we cannot just 
sit around and wait."


 "That's very true. What are they talking about?"


 "I think most of them will decide to return to the cities and wait, 
Sietnuoc isn't that far away."


 "What will they do there?"


 "We know that the cities have been rebuilt, most of them assume that they 
are just waiting for us to return."


 "What about you?"


 Ues looked around him, up at the sky and smiled.


 "Out here we can be free, that's what we all once wanted, to get away 
from the old ways and live as free Skidians, without being bound by the 
Skidian way. To create a new way for Skidians to live where we can learn to 
look after ourselves without being forced by traditional expectations to act 
in a certain way. I never expected to live like this, before my life was 
simply waiting to die, out here I can do things, I think this is what life is 
all about," Ues smiled again.


 "So you are going to stay?"


 "Oh yes, many of us will stay with you to lead us."


 Charming I'm sure, Bruce thought. Minutes ago Bruce had been wondering 
whether he should just pack up and leave, now it looked as if just about 
everybody else was.


 "Are you alright Bruce?" Bruce started guiltily, he hadn't thought to 
tell Sue he was ok.


 "Yes dear," he replied in the same tired manner that he remembered his 
father talking to his mother when she asked something where the answer was 
obvious. Yes I have a sore head, yes I am groaning because I have busted my 
leg.


 "I'll be back soon," he added not stopping. There was another problem, 
what was he going to do about her? Somehow, despite her insistence Bruce 
didn't think their relationship would survive long, here or back home. Not 
that he'd really applied himself to the issue yet, not that he didn't realise 
he had some moral obligations in that direction.


 "Don't be too long, breakfast will be ready soon."


 "Shit," he muttered under his breath, life was getting far too 
complicated, Miss High Powered 90's woman was getting all domestic on him.


 Bruce shot an ivop and the Skidians swarmed all over it before he could 
move, clumsily emulating his exhibition of the previouis day.


 More of them had knives now and had discovered sometime in the 
intervening hours that sharpening them made them far more effective.


 Watching Bruce had to admit that they were fast learners if they wanted 
to be and they soon made short work of the ivop carcass. If they carried on at 
this rate they soon wouldn't need him at all. He would become the 
supernumerary that he always thought he should. And then what? He asked 



himself.


 He had returned to Skid without question, excited at the prospect and was 
now disconcerted to find that in a few short days all he wanted was to go home 
again.


 "Fuck it," he said kicking disconsolately at a tuft of grass and hurting 
his big toe in the process on the rock it hid.


 He walked back up to the house and found Raele sitting at the table 
wearing a moody expression.


 "Where's Mitch?" Bruce thought Raele might have dumped him off somewhere 
or done away with him.


 "Over there," Raele pointed to where a group of Skidians had gathered 
around the barbecue apparently listening to Mitch who had found himself a 
chair to stand on and was haranguing them about something.


 "What's he on about?" Bruce could see the rapt expressions on the faces 
of the closest Skidians, how they seemed to hang on his every word. Obviously 
telling them what they wanted to hear.


 "Government I think." Mitch had patiently explained to Raele what 
government was, what democracy was and spread his message among the Skidians 
they had met on their travels across the planet.


 Even now there were groups of Skidians making their way across the 
wilderness to Aotearoa or the industrial complexes ready and eager to join 
this new experiment that as far as Raele could ungratefully see, would simply 
deprive him of his rightful place at the head of the Skidian people.


 Mitch had explained that this wasn't necessarily so, that even being the 
elected president of a governing council was still a position of immense power 
and prestige. Raele didn't believe him, all that he could see laying before 
him were the fragments of his shattered dreams.


 Bringing Mitch to Skid had been a mistake Raele realised, just as letting 
the offworlder that sat across from him, live after being brought to the 
planet had been a terrible mistake of his father's. But Bruce wasn't a bad 
sort, Raele felt in some ways he had more in common with Bruce right at the 
moment than he did with his own people, Bruce was as out of place here as he 
was.


 "Well, things change Raele, your people have experienced an unprecedented 
disaster, everything they thought was solid and dependable has been proven to 
be a house of straw."


 "Straw?"


 "Um something that can be blown over, destroyed, means that whatever was 
before was little more than an illusion which was only perpetuated because 
people believed in it's permanence."


 "Does this sort of thing happen on your planet?"


 "Well we haven't experienced disaster on the scale that you have, but 
then we elect our leaders every few years, if they don't deliver what we want 
they are thrown out. In our style government the power of hereditary leaders 
like yourself has been diluted and steadily trimmed until they are heads of 
state in name only." Bruce knew things weren't quite as simple as that. Still 
Raele probably wasn't in the mood to learn that earth didn't have a single 
state like Skid did or had, but was divided up into many states, with 
different styles of government. Bruce didn't know whether he understood how 
government worked either, not the least because in many cases it didn't.


 Raele didn't feel any better. Even if he was elected it appeared that 
there was no guarantee that he would stay elected, any weak and vain idiot 
like Mischief could get himself elected if he said the right thing, promised 
the right things.


 That wasn't right surely? He asked himself indignantly. Was Mitch making 
the same sort of promises, some he could and others he surely couldn't keep to 
the Skidians who sat not too far away?


 Shouldn't I be listening to him as well? The Skidian way among other 
things had been an extremely conservative system. That meant that change was 
slow if non existent, but it also meant continuity, Skidians knew where they 



were at all times. Raele was perceptive enough to see that having elected 
leaders, the sheer impact of being involved in government would create an 
upheaval almost as great as the recent disaster. There would be change, well 
that was obvious, but there would be reverses in direction and many Skidians 
would become confused and distraught at what these changes meant.


 The fixed points on which they had always orientated themselves would be 
no more. Did they now, was this one of the reasons why they were so eager to 
seek out new ways of doing things? Or were they really so eager? So many of 
them seemed to simply desire to return to the cities and the old ways. Raele 
shook his head feeling very confused, he just didn't know what to think or 
what to do. Perhaps he should just leave Skid and exile himself to Celcious B 
or somewhere else in the universe just as others had before him to escape 
assassination by other's in line to assume positions of leadership.


 Raele thought about his own brothers out there somewhere. Where were 
they, what were they doing? Their father had given each of them a patrol craft 
and told them to go and they had gone without question.


 The people of earth who were obsessed by basketball would have been 
astounded to discover that two of the icons of that sport were in fact 
Skidians who had taken the opportunity to avoid certain death. Instead they 
had achieved positions of prestige and universal adulation that even in their 
wildest dreams would never have thought possible.


 fourteen


 Mitch was totally confident in was his ability to speak to a crowd of 
people, whether they be his averred opponents, supporters or the merely 
neutral and make them believe he was telling them exactly what they wanted to 
hear. It wasn't true of course and mostly his speeches were written by other 
people so he really didn't know what he was saying. But he had a powerful 
commanding and somewhat comforting voice and a good line of rhetoric so that 
whatever he said seemed to put people at ease; while he was speaking anyway.


 Following Raele off the ship after what he thought was quite a successful 
jaunt around Skid, meeting the people, hearing what they had to say and where 
necessary directing them to places of security in the cities or the industrial 
complexes. Raele had tried to direct more Skidians to this place but Mitch 
couldn't see the point and with growing confidence overrode Raele to the point 
where he considered Raele to be little more than his personal chauffeur.


 Mitch had found the Skidians back at the quaintly named Aotearoa sitting 
around the grill waiting for their breakfast to cook.


 He wandered over to hear what they had to say, but mostly because he was 
hungry as well and immediately sensing their mood clambered onto a chair and 
began to address them.


 At first he just tried to get their collective interest. He told the 
expectant hopeful crowd that while things had been tough for them recently, 
their situation was rapidly improving, life would soon return to normal. He 
could see from the way they turned their attention to him after initially 
being reluctant to listen, that they liked the sound of what he was saying. 
Their individual conversations died and he could see heads nod as he spoke and 
expressions of hope appear on their downcast faces. He was telling them what 
they wanted to hear and he warmed to his task accordingly.


 "Even I an outsider can see that Skid was once great and can soon be 
great again with the right kind of leadership, again we will be the envy of 
the universe beholden to nobody else." Mitch easily assumed indigenous status 
as he had of those states that he needed to carry on his way to the presidency 
of the United States.


 "To achieve this goal, we must work together and harness all the 
resources of Skid, reopen to habitation all the great cities and get the 
factories working." Mitch carried on in a similar vein far half an hour or so, 



using words and terms that were as foreign to the Skidians as he was himself. 
Not that it really mattered, even if they didn't understand much of what he 
said, the Skidians liked a good speech.


 Mitch took no notice of the obvious dissenters standing around the edge 
of the gathering, sagely shaking their heads as he repeated his main points 
for the umpteenth time, the rest of them were eating out of the palm of his 
hand. That was enough.


 "We must work together to make Skid great again, get the factories and 
cities operating so that we can all live like decent hu...., er Skidians!" He 
finished on a high note, in one foul swoop, telling the Skidians exactly what 
they wanted to hear and in the process ensuring that the Skid of the future 
would be the same vulnerable, conservative stunted benevolent dictatorship it 
had always been, simply existing to ensure the survival of the species not 
it's continued development.


 Offered the chance of a brave new world or a return to the bad old days 
that they so fondly recalled there was only one way any decent Skidian was 
going to vote.


 Mitch wasn't sure whether he had struck the right chord with his 
audience, he was feeling the right vibes, but where he normally would have 
expected a rousing round of applause as he finished speaking he was merely 
greeted with a somewhat stunned silence.


 Then the Skidians decided that breakfast was ready and began to fight 
over the rough cuts of meat on the grill.


 Stepping rather tiredly off the chair, Mitch shook his head. He couldn't 
believe that nobody had even bothered to ask any questions let alone heckle 
him as he was used to.


 He spied Raele standing off too one side and wondered whether his 
presence had a subduing effect on the crowd. Mitch didn't think so somehow, 
Raele already looked like yesterday's man.


 Perhaps they could set up a monarchy to give Raele some sort of place in 
the realm of things, Mitch had a fancy to rub shoulders with the nobility, 
he'd always fancied that he and King Charlie of England were good enough 
friends. Though Charlies habit of looking a bit stiff when he laid a hand on 
his shoulders in a friendly fashion and suggested they spend more time in each 
other's company made Mitch feel a bit uncomfortable. Odd fellows those Brits.


 Anyhow Raele certainly had the right credentials, the Skidians still 
deferred to him even though they weren't taken too much with his fancy 
theories about greater self reliance and actually having to perform some sort 
of commie sounding service to society in return for being a member of that 
society. That sort of thing was ok for people on the fringe of society, like 
the those that wanted to live out here, but the cities were where it would all 
be at.


 What was the point of having large fully automated industrial complexes 
that supplied every conceivable need in a comfortable city if nobody used 
them?


 Besides the country was a nice place to go for a break, but live there?


 Not likely.


 "Everything ok Raele?" Mitch walked over and asked.


 "You speak eloquently," Raele replied," just like my father and our other 
leaders. But what about those that require substance and not just fancy 
words?"


 "Don't worry Raele, I think I can handle it."


 "That's what I'm afraid of."


 Mitch watched Raele walk among his people and seek out those he 
recognised as the ones that hadn't been happy with his speech. A significant 
minority still seemed to be on Raele's side. But that wasn't a worry, Mitch 
was sure from what he'd seen elsewhere that most Skidians would leap at the 
chance to get back to normal, if a few Skidians wanted to stay out here in the 
boonies he wasn't going to stop them. Might be a nice place for a palace, for 
a king to reign. 



 "Oh the future looks great," Mitch muttered, congratulating himself for 
being so clever and looking forward to the future as he hadn't for a long 
while.


 "Right you bastards, get your shit together!" Bruce yelled and Mitch 
watched his vision of a brave new world wobble at the foundations.


 To a Skidian they stopped what they were doing and gave Bruce the benefit 
of their limited attention.


 "Right, it's work time, anybody that doesn't want to work Sietnuoc is 
that way." Bruce pointed his finger out over the plain. "The rest of you if 
you want to eat, you gotta do some work."


 Mitch watched the Skidians look at one another, as if they didn't 
understand and caught the beginning of a smile on the face of Raele who did 
realise what Bruce meant and his own spirits plumeted accordingly.


 "How did he do that?" Bruce had managed to get the Skidians full 
attention and then get them to do what he wanted after a fashion, in a way 
that Mitch knew he couldn't emulate. Obviously the Skidians respected, maybe 
feared Bruce, whereas he could only appeal to their greed and desires.


 "He's got a way with him hasn't he?" Mitch found Sue beside him, with the 
baby strapped on her back in American Indian fashion.


 "How does he do it?"


 "Ever seen him work his dogs? If they don't do what he says once he yells 
at them, if they don't do it twice he gives them a kick in the ribs or 
threatens too."


 "That's repugnant, he sounds like something out of the middle ages, like 
he's a guard at a forced labour camp."


 "Oh there's a bit more to it than that," Sue explained.


 "Like what?"


 "You want to eat don't you?"


 "What's that got to do with anything?" Mitch demanded watching Bruce move 
among the Skidians obviously explaining what he wanted done as small groups 
moved off in different directions, perhaps unwillingly, but they moved off 
nevertheless.


 "Must be off." Sue laughed brightly and attached herself to one of the 
groups that was making it's way down to the overgrown garden.


 What the hell are they up to? Mitch asked himself, reminded that he was 
still hungry by the mention of food.


 "Well what are you going to do with yourself Mitch mate?"


 "What do you mean?" Mitch was a little startled by Bruce's demeanour. In 
fact in the moments afterward he found himself starting to be offended by 
Bruce's sarcasm.


 "What am I going to do indeed! What business is it of yours may I ask?" 
Mitch retorted.


 "New rule at Aotearoa Mitch, you have to work for your supper, you 
especially have to lead a good example."


 "What do you mean by that?" Mitch asked, mystified.


 "Well you want to lead these blokes and blokesses to the promised land 
don't you?"


 "I don't know what you're talking about."


 "Oh get off the grass Mitch, I've seen the likes of you in action before. 
Promise the earth and deliver fuck all once you've got what you want."


 "I still don't know what you're talking about," Mitch retorted feeling 
himself grow hot under the collar as blood rushed to his face. Had he stepped 
over some invisible boundary that he wasn't aware of? Had he been so obvious 
in his play for control? Mitch thought he was more subtle than that, he 
hadn't actually confronted Raele or made a direct play for anything, he'd 
simply-made the Skidians aware of their options, hadn't he?


 "You know Mitch, you're a typical politician, I was just telling Raele 
that you can't trust the bastards an inch."


 "I resent that remark young man, I'll have you know that I am proud of my 



stance on moral issues and the way we cleaned up graft and corruption in my 
administration."


 "Look here you old pratt, I'm not talking about reintroducing school 
prayers, saluting the flag and all that shit, I'm talking about making 
promises you know you can't possibly keep and shitting on those that have no 
power to fight back from a great height."


 Bruce was aware that he could have been far more diplomatic in his 
dealings with Mitch. They would have to put up with each other for the 
foreseeable future, but something about the man rubbed him up the wrong way. 
He'd been on Skid for just a few days and thought he knew exactly what the 
Skidians needed and wanted.


 He could well have a few of them, Bruce acknowledged and his skills in 
government would be most useful in the times ahead. Nevertheless it grated on 
him that Mitch seemed to be taking the opportunity of the Skidians general 
insecurity and the disintegration of the established power structures on the 
planet to mount a take over bid.


 "Well maybe that is what I'm doing, what are you going to do about it?" 
Mitch wasn't used to being challenged by somebody he considered subordinate if 
not inferior. Nor did he know quite how to handle Bruce, who obviously 
considered himself neither of these.


 "Nothing much, in the end it comes down to what the Skidians want, I'm 
just going to help them work out how to decide and what their options are."


 "That's exactly what I'm doing," Mitch responded angrily at the implied 
accusation. "Anyhow I don't see how you can stop me from doing what I think's 
right."


 "Yeah well your own common sense should tell you how, besides as far as 
I'm concerned around here I'm the law for the moment and if you don't like it, 
as I said to the Skidians, Sietnuoc is that way." Bruce flung his arm up so 
quickly that Mitch thought he was going to hit him and ducked instinctively.


 Mitch spluttered with righteous indignation but he knew he was beaten for 
the moment.


 "Can I have something to eat?" He asked meekly, while inside he seethed 
wishing there was some way he could get rid of Bruce or beat him at his own 
game.


 "Yeah sure Mitch, then you can think about how you're going to teach 
these idiots about government," Bruce suggested.


 Mitch watched Bruce saunter away and noticed one of the dogs staring at 
him in a quizzical fashion. It's head cocked sideways, one ear standing up in 
the air like a question mark, it looked as if it knew exactly what was going 
on, that he had been manipulated cleverly by Bruce.


 'You sure have, you old goat,' a voice that had an uncanny resemblance to 
Bruce's spoke into his mind.


 Mitch gave the dog a disdainful stare and then was mortified when the dog 
trotted over, cocked his leg and squirted a stream ofurine at his legs before 
he could do anything and then trotted off.


 Bruce might not have pissed on him but Mitch felt that he'd been firmly 
put in his place. This only increased the burning resentment he felt, the need 
to get even until it struck him that Bruce must be fairly sure of himself to 
put him to work showing the Skidians how to govern themselves. Then he just 
became merely resentful about the fact that somebody else had the pull to put 
him in his place, something that hadn't happened for as long as Mitch could 
remember.


 fifteen


 Ediud scrutinised his handy work, with delight from his base on Celcious 


B. It didn't matter that untold millions had died for his ambition, all that 
mattered was that he was going to revenge himself on the Skidians that had 
spurned his superior talents, even if they were long since dead. 

 It had irked him that Raele, his youngest brother, had been chosen by 
their father to be his successor and from the first days of his exile he had 
planned his revenge on the system that encouraged institutionalised 
mediocrity. The best potential leaders of Skid were either quietly disinfected 
or exiled because they were too clever by half. For not only would they show 
up their inferior peers for the incompetents they were, they would institute 
changes to the Skidian way which was more important than life itself.


 Ediud's ambitions had expanded since he had been exiled, why content 
himself with Skid and Celcious? There was a whole universe to conquor.


 Celcious B was firmly under his control with minimal resistance. Since 
synfood had stopped arriving from Skid it had been much easier since some 
Celcions had simply starved to death and the remaining Celcions looked 
fearfully for somebody to save them from that fate. He. Eduid of course, so he 
liked to think.


 What had really saved the majority of Celcions was a tradition of living 
off what the planet could provide, a tradition that was weakened but not 
destroyed when Skid began supplying synfood to their forbears.


 There were still many sturdy young men who were used to the rigours and 
privations of living for long periods in the wilderness enduring the rites 
associated with the coming of age and taking their places as full members of 
Celcion society.


 During this time they lived off the animals that roamed the wilderness 
and dwelt in temporary homes made of their hides. They practised drills from 
another age, when Celcion marauders were feared throughout the universe. Not 
that the men realised they were military drills of any kind until Eduid turned 
up one day and saw them walking stiffly about the plains in columns singing 
lusty songs about marching off to foreign lands in the springtime. None of the 
Celcions knew what the words meant or what the short staves they carried 
represented, but Eduid did and his heart leapt at the unlikely sight.


 Here was the solid core of the legion he would raise to conquer the known 
planets, already partially trained. With them at his back he had swept away 
what little opposition there had been on Celcious in preparation for an 
assault on Skid. Once in control of the might of Skid he would move swiftly 
until his name was known and feared throughout the universe.


 Eduid might have been the best of the four brothers. Raele was something 
of an unknown quantity, his two other brothers had simply left the planet and 
headed for parts unknown when given the chance, they clearly knew what the 
options were and calmly acquiesced to the will of a father who didn't want to 
see his sons sacrificed for the sake of the Skidian way.


 Eduid on the other hand posed more of a problem for Inel, he was 
obviously capable but his desire for power, his ruthlessness and determination 
to change the system that had served Skid so well since time immemorial were 
evident at an early age and couldn't be countenanced by a responsible mati. 
Eduid would have to go, and it was only love, something that the traditions of 
his race stifled him from expressing, that made Inel send his son into exile 
rather than disinfecting him as he knew he should.


 Inel wouldn't live to regret his choice, he couldn't know that he would 
inflict a megalomaniac obsessed with power on the universe that was ultimately 
his undoing.


 Watching proudly as his legion paraded before him carrying large banners 
with his face emblazoned across them Eduid knew it was time to move. The 
legion had trained hard and were now as prepared as their warrior forbears had 
been on their earlier unsuccessful assaults on Skid, a finely tuned military 
machine.


 Eduid believed his legion was far better prepared than any former Celcion 
legion had ever been for they had practised their skills on large untidy 
formations of Celcions that had begun turning up at the food drops. The mobs 
were beaten with sturdy staves until they dispersed and then the legion 
rampaged through Celicious in an orgy of violence and destruction after which 
nobody dared oppose him. 



 Eduid's only concern was that his legions lacked real weapons, he would 
only find those when he had access to Skid's vast arsenals which he hoped 
would fall on the first assault as he swooped down on Skid at the controls of 
his patrol craft. The staves and clubs and some pieces of metal that had been 
beaten into crude, brutal looking weapons that could hack at flesh, were all 
they had. If only he could locate the arsenals and his brother quickly, the 
first to control, the second to kill and remove any legitimate leader 
defenders could use as a rallying point.


 Not that Eduid was really concerned, the Skidians didn't have a military 
history and there were few of them to resist him now. He would strike soon, 
the resumption of freighter traffic between the two planets meant that Skid 
was slowly returning to normal, however few Skidians remained. The vast 
autonomous infrastructure of the planet was functioning once again. Now all 
that remained was for his legion to board a freighter returning to Skid after 
unloading it's cargo of synfood and the invasion he had long planned for would 
become a reality.


 Sitting in his patrol craft Eduid could monitor events on Skid, he could 
pinpoint his brothers' location and that of all other Skidians, he could fly 
from one end of the universe to the other, he could do a lot of things except 
kill with it.


 This was Eduid's major disappointment since leaving Skid and a major 
drawback in his ambitions. It would have been so much simpler if his patrol 
craft had been fully armed, he would be able to conquer the universe by 
himself and not have to rely on mercenaries like the Celcions, most of whom 
seemed to exhibit the same dumb passivity of the animals they ate. Somebody 
had evidently understood him too well and ensured that he didn't possess any 
weapons of mass destruction as he left Skid for what was supposed to be the 
last time.


 The settling of the dust kicked up by the legions feet and the sudden 
silence of their accompanying drums signalled the end of the parade. The 
legion came to a halt and then slowly dispersed, the Celcions who had been 
forced to watch the parade, to farewell the legion on the eve of it's 
departure also quickly drifted away.


 There was no telling what the mood of the legion might be, they might 
want one more practice against them or make more demands for females or food. 
It was much better to get out of their way and back to the close winding 
streets of the town that had developed around one of the syn freighter landing 
sites where the legion rarely ventured.


 sixteen


 There wasn't much to do and Bruce was bored shitless, the Skidians at 
Aotearoa were faithfully slaving away on the farm, though there were so many 
of them that there wasn't much for them to do either. Bruce was well aware 
that he had previously believed the Skidians were taking to working on the 
farm seriously because their lives depended on it and had been sadly mistaken. 
But not on this occasion, this group of Skidians were different from the likes 
of Cyprus and the others who had seemed to believe that the crisis facing them 
would never come to pass.


 These Skidians had experienced a disaster of catastrophic proportions 
and even if they didn't like living and working at Aotearoa they were well 
aware there were other even less attractive ways to live.


 Soon Bruce would let them know that he thought it would be a good idea if 
a few of them started to drift back to the cities which was where most of them 
wanted to be like moths drawn to a light, merely because it was there. Besides 
there were far too many people on this small farm to give them all something 
worthwhile to occupy themselves. Soon enough they would be champing at the bit 
to go anyway, or the whole business of their future political scene would 
consume them once again. 



 Relaxed as their present lifestyle was, the Skidians suddenly seemed to 
have lost interest in Mitch's visions of a brave new Skid. They still 
discussed what sort of system they would like and Mitch was doing his best as 
far as Bruce could see to lay out various options for them, but his own 
demands that they actually had to exchange their labour for the right to stay 
at Aotearoa and eat seemed to have dulled their enthusiasm.


 It couldn't have been because they were tired by their efforts, because 
truthfully there was little to be done, Bruce was sure that he could have fed 
them all without too much effort on his part. It was as if they were satisfied 
for present that somebody else was looking after their interests, which wasn't 
what he had intended at all.


 Even Raele, who Bruce looked upon as the rightful leader of the community 
deferred to him in most areas and if Bruce was loathe to make a decision or 
interfere it was Eus, Tweest or Iuat who acted like self appointed lieutenants 
on his behalf.


 It amused Bruce how these three so studiously copied him, it also came as 
a sobering surprise to realise that they considered him a worthy role model. 
The three of them had forsaken the Skidian tradition of smoking agbar through 
the nose, affected clothing like his own and made hilarious attempts to work 
his dogs which the dogs equally studiously ignored. It wasn't so much that 
they were one man dogs, they simply didn't understand what the Skidians 
required of them. Cop reckoned that their attempts at whistling were about as 
sensical as that of mating fantails in the springtime.


 Sue wasn't much help either, she seemed distant, though as respectfully 
subordinate as his other self appointed lieutenants. Just when Bruce felt he 
should have the support of the person that should be closest to him he felt 
she was drawing away.


 Still the situation did have it's compensations for it gave him a chance 
for little Bruce to get to know him, even if Bruce himself wasn't entirely 
enamoured of the idea.


 Still there was some satisfaction in learning how to change the sprogs 
nappies, feeding him from the bottle of milk that his mother left for him in 
the fridge and learning what his various cries meant. They were about as easy 
to pick as his dog's barks.


 The baby was crying again, this was it's 'I'm crying because I don't know 
what else to do,' cry. Bruce flicked his cigarette out over the veranda 
deciding it was time to go and pick the sprog up and maybe give it a feed. Or 
better still take it down to the garden where his mother was working and let 
her give it a feed.


 "There, there, little one," a voice crooned from the bedroom. Bruce 
stopped at the door.


 Who the hell's that? He pushed the door open and found Mistril talking to 
the baby cradled in her arms, who was gurgling away quite happily.


 Bruce knew some of the Skidian woman had been quite interested in the 
baby since they had discovered changes in their own bodies that meant that 
they were soon to have babies of their own, but Mistril hadn't been one of 
those. Well not to Bruce's knowledge anyway. Bruce found Mistril's position a 
little hard to fathom.


 She was shunned by the rest of the Skidian women and of all the men only 
Mitch and Raele showed any kind of interest in her. She seemed something of a 
pariah.


 "Hello Mistril, how's it going?"


 "Very well thankyou," Mistril replied meekly," I heard the child crying 
so I thought I'd look in on him."


 "Oh that's ok, I didn't think there was anyone else about." It was mid 
morning and all the Skidians were outside doing something, including Mitch and 
Raele. What all of them were actually doing Bruce wasn't sure but they seemed 
to be clever enough to look as if they were busy even if they weren't. Well 
they've had untold generations to learn that Bruce thought cynically.


 Bruce sat on the bed beside Mistril and looked over at his son. He's 



certainly an ugly little sod Bruce decided not for the first time. Almost 
involuntarily he looked at Mistril's face and was astonished to see large fat 
tears dribbling down her cheeks.


 Bruce was profoundly shocked by the sight.


 "What's the matter?" He asked, surely she wasn't crying because of him? 
What had he said, what had he done?


 "Nothing," Mistril replied dabbing at the tears with one of her long slim 
fingers.


 Bruce picked up one of the baby's clean nappies from the pile beside the 
bed and wiped the tears away.


 "Oh come on, it can't be that bad," he said.


 Mistril shrugged in that peculiarly Skidian way that irritated Bruce in 
that it meant so much but communicated almost nothing.


 "I don't belong here," she said quietly putting the baby back into it's 
cot where it gurgled happily.


 "What do you mean? I don't belong here, at least you are a Skidian!"


 "I mean, that.." Mistril's voice drifted away, perhaps the offworlder 
wouldn't understand that she didn't fit into a community where individuals 
were slowly realising that they were going to have to find mates and produce 
offspring. Because of her past she wasn't considered a suitable mate.


 Initially she had dreamed of becoming Raele's consort, or later the 
consort of the other offworld male, but all her hopes and dreams had been 
dashed as they found other mates. She had watched with growing desperation as 
all the other available female Skidians found partners and the remaining males 
shunned her.


 Sensing her distress Bruce put an arm around her shoulders in order to 
comfort her. Mistril turned her head and buried her face at the junction of 
his neck and shoulder and wrapped her own arms around him.


 Bruce could understand the feeling of not belonging, because he had felt 
that way himself on and off through his life. He felt pretty much the same way 
at present, even if he and Sue still slept in the same bed it didn't change 
the fact that he felt as if they were growing apart.


 After a few moments Bruce guiltily realised that his reaction toward 
Mistril wasn't as platonic as he intended. Despite his best intentions he was 
becoming aroused and it seemed the natural thing to do as they both sank 
slowly backwards their mouths eagerly searching the other out.


 A warning bell at the back of Bruce's mind rang and told him that he 
should stop what he was doing, but something else seemed to snap inside him at 
the same time and he before he was really aware of what was happening Mistril 
was gasping and arching her back as he entered her for the first time.


 Almost immediately Bruce began to feel as if he was a spectator at some 
kind of show, it was as if he was there in body but his mind was elsewhere. He 
felt as if he was monitoring a mechanical piston pumping in and out, reading a 
set of gauges and dials rather than responding to the heaving body under him 
that panted into his ear.


 Oddly Bruce found that rather than detracting from his performance this 
detachment was heightening his own pleasure and he felt as if he could go on 
for ever. He wondered what would happen if Sue happened to walk in, in the 
heat of the moment her reaction didn't seem particularly important any more. 
They hadn't actually formalised their relationship in any fashion, they hadn't 
said much to each other at all lately.


 Bruce felt the pressure of an imminent orgasm build and started to move a 
little faster. As he let his thoughts drift aimlessly, the pressure receded 
and when he stopped moving for a moment to pick a strand of Mistril's hair out 
of his teeth she opened her eyes and grunted at him as if too say;' what are 
you stopping for.'


 And then it was all over and they were both gasping with pleasure pressed 
together as if the mingling secretions of their loins had stuck them fast.


 Bruce didn't know how long he lay there, smiling down at her face which 
moments before had been contorted with pleasure as she bit her lip and bared 



her teeth. Now it wore a dreamy smile that made Bruce feel even better because 
he had obviously moved something deep within her.


 He couldn't remember Sue looking even as half as satisfied as Mistril did 
and unlike Sue, Mistril was in no hurry to push him away so she could get off 
to sleep.


 Sue had never said no to him, but Bruce had sometimes been left with the 
impression that Sue didn't especially like sex. Oh she let him do what he 
wanted, responded in the appropriate manner, said the right things as if she 
was reading a script, but often left Bruce with the impression that sex was an 
obligation that she felt she had to fulfil. Suddenly discovering a partner 
that obviously did like sex put Bruce in a bit of a quandary.


 He did have moral obligations toward Sue, have responsibility for little 
Bruce. Or did he?


 Bruce found that he didn't really care for the moment as he felt his cock 
stiffening again.


 Mistril must have felt something also because she began to move against 
him and soon Bruce was thinking this was a remarkably pleasant way to spend an 
afternoon.


 Sue watched Iaut reach into his trousers and pull something out, 
intrigued she moved a little closer to see what he was doing and then 
immediately looked away.


 Bruce had a habit of scratching himself around the groin whenever he felt 
like it and for pissing whenever he felt the need. Whether he was with 
somebody, by himself out on the farm he just flopped his penis out and let 
rip. He usually remembered to turn away if he was with somebody but had the 
habit of carrying on a conversation,looking over his shoulder if he was.


 Iaut and some of the others, Tweest and Ues particularly had taken to 
aping many of Bruce's habits and mannerisms. Mostly the effect was comic, 
while they didn't look anything like Bruce they often acted exactly as he did. 
The three of them treated the rest of the Skidians with the same sort of 
barely concealed contempt that Bruce did and strangely seemed to command a 
similar sort of cowed respect from their fellow Skidians.


 The Skidians that had been most outspoken when they returned to Aotearoa 
now seemed somewhat subdued as if they sensed that their time had come and 
gone. But Sue wasn't sure that was true, Mitch was certainly trying to help 
them develop some sort of system by which they could govern themselves and 
decide how their society was going to develop. Bruce certainly wasn't standing 
in the way of that, though maybe his presence as a strong character stopped 
any sort of political development in it's tracks unless he was actively 
involved. It was odd that all the Skidians could talk about formerly was how 
they wanted to ditch the old way and start afresh and now they seemed to have 
slipped back into the old ways now that Bruce had stamped his authority on the 
settlement.


 Sue found the whole situation totally confusing and knew that she would 
never understand what was going on. Still she was quite content for the 
moment, satisfied that she was making a real contribution to the future of 
Skid by helping to develop the garden and with Bruce's help extend the scope 
of the project. It was the future that was beginning to worry her. Were they 
here for ever?


 She had thought she would be content to live out the rest of her days on 
Skid. Their return to the planet had seemed to be the right thing at the time, 
now she wasn't quite so sure. What had they actually come back for? It wasn't 
as if they had to. Raele hadn't come back for them particularly, in fact his 
whole trip seemed to be nothing more than an accident and their meeting some 
sort of cosmic coincidence.


 Her distress and the uncertainty of the months leading up to meeting 
Raele had been resolved by the uncanny appearance of Bruce,she was sure that 
given time they would have worked things out. Somehow.


 The return to Skid had made that side of things more difficult, she knew 



that she wasn't being fair to Bruce at the moment, shutting him out and barely 
communicating with him. She was just trying to give herself the space to work 
things out. She had the impression that in some ways Bruce was like a rock, 
he would be there when she needed him here or back on earth if they ever got 
back. Deep down Sue knew she wasn't sure whether she could actually commit 
herself totally to Bruce now. But what else was there to commit herself to? 
Sue also knew that the novelty of being back on Skid and what she was doing 
there would quickly wear off, was already wearing thin. But what else was 
there? Suddenly she felt quite hopeless and wanted to sit down and cry.


 But not in front of the Skidians she told herself, well not in front of 
Iaut as the others had trooped off a few minutes ago clearly having made the 
collective decision their days work was done.


 She glanced around and saw Iaut was still playing with himself, no doubt 
trying to piss and probably feeling quite uncomfortable that he evidently 
couldn't. The Skidians were usually so reticent about their bodily functions 
that it came as somewhat of a surprise that Iaut decided to flop out his dick 
in front of her. Bruce had a lot to answer for.


 Maybe that's why he was having so much trouble.


 Finally she heard a satisfied grunt and heard a stream of urine hit the 
soil with a soggy sound splashing sound.


 Sue knew there was nothing to keep her in the garden but something held 
her back. From the sound of things Iaut had finished his business so she 
turned around meaning to ask him whether he thought there was anything they 
should do while they were there.


 The question died on her lips at the sight of Iaut's penis sticking out 
at her and she suddenly felt an irrational desire to kneel before him and take 
it in her mouth.


 But what would Bruce say, or more importantly do if he was to find out? 
She turned away and pushed through the screen of sweetcorn plants that 
shielded them from the house.


 Sue wasn't that interested in sex that she wanted to find out what a 
Skidian was like in the sack. Sue knew Bruce had strayed at least once, 
primarily because she had instigated a casual alliance with a Skidian woman 
the last time they were here.


 Whether he had recently was of little real interest to her, she knew that 
she couldn't meet his needs sex wise and was prepared to tolerate a little 
extra curricular activity on his part to keep him in the fold, just as long as 
he was discrete about things.


 How this situation would work if they ever went permanently back to earth 
was a matter that she would address at the appropriate time. What was probably 
putting more stress on their relationship at present was her own behaviour 
anyway, it was about time she did something to make up for the hard time she 
had given him.


 But how ? Not only did she hardly speak to him, when she did she seemed 
to be able to do nothing but nag.


 "Look after the baby, spend some time with your son." Which was her 
excuse for leaving Bruce in charge of the baby today.


 Maybe they should go fishing, or go somewhere where there were no 
Skidians at all for a few days. Despite only being on Skid for a few weeks or 
a month at most, Sue felt stressed out. Time for a holiday.


 seventeen


 Trying to help the Skidians develop some kind of democratic government 
was a task close to Mitch's heart. He had always stood for and encouraged by 
any means he could, arms embargoes, trade embargoes, diplomatic pressure, 
almost anything else short of going to war, to encourage nations toward 
democracy, democracy the American way. On Skid he was encouraged by the easy 
acceptance of his ideas, the lively debate. 



 Unfortunately he was also discovering that while the Skidians liked to 
talk about things they weren't used to actually taking charge themselves. 
Action was further hampered by Mitch's startling discovery that while Skidians 
were quite capable of reading it appeared that most of them couldn't write 
anything, they couldn't even seem to string anything coherent together with 
the aid of a computer. It was as if writing was the purview of a special class 
of person. Notably Mitch hadn't discovered anything remotely similar to a 
religion, not that he was worried by the lack of opportunity to go to church.


 The inability of the Skidians to disseminate their ideas was a bit 
disconcerting, it wasn't as if they were inarticulate or unintelligent, but 
Mitch wasn't going to let that slow him down.


 Discovering that Bruce was knocking off Mistril was more disturbing to 
Mitch. Not because of the immorality of the situation, Mitch wasn't that much 
of a hypocrite. Because he was under the impression that, while not 
consummating his lust, Mistril was almost his property.


 Mitch had considered blowing the whistle on Bruce. However, not only was 
he a little afraid of what Bruce might do to him if he spilled the beans, 
there didn't seem to be any point. There were plenty of other Skidian woman 
about and they seemed quite sexually active and available.


 Indeed Bruce had mentioned that they seemed to root like rabbits. It took 
Mitch a few minutes to understand what Bruce was on about, he hadn't actually 
noticed. But when he did open his eyes, notice the odd couple embracing under 
trees or rolling around on the ground where they must have thought they were 
safe from prying eyes, he saw them everywhere. Showering each other with 
sloppy wet kisses, grinding their loins together and moaning theatrically. 
Mitch began to realise what a break down in a societies moral standards meant.


 He was also sure that Bruce was largely to blame, not only because his 
lieutenants seemed to be the biggest philanderers, copying the behaviour of 
their hero but also because Bruce had suggested they go forth and multiply as 
quickly as possible.


 "There's only a few thousand people on the whole planet." Bruce had said 
when Mitch had asked him why.


 "If they don't get used to fucking and producing sprogs at a great rate 
of knots they'll eventually die out or become so inbred that death would be a 
preferable fate." Mitch hadn't really understood and characteristically Bruce 
had deigned not to expand when Mitch suggested he didn't understand.


 "How about using your brain for a change Mitch," Bruce had suggested," I 
always thought you had to have a few brains to be the President of the United 
States of America, he had sneered sardonically, "now I realise that isn't the 
case." With that Bruce had stalked away and Mitch hadn't had the courage to 
confront him, even talk to him since.


 Oh how the mighty have fallen, Mitch thought despairingly, not long since 
considered the most powerful man alive.


 Now Mitch's heart leapt for it seemed that Bruce was leaving, if not for 
good then hopefully long enough for him to put his master plan into action. 
The Skidians at Aotearoa had pretty well agreed in principle to his idea of 
instituting a community council that would debate and later present a format 
to the rest of the people on how they would govern themselves in the future.


 Skidians from all the settlements would first vote for an interim 
president who would run the planet and then each settlement would select 
members of their own who would meet to form a global parliament who would 
develop some sort of constitution.


 Along with Raele, Mitch had toured the planet and spread the message and 
on which he had been gratified to be told that wherever they went that he 
should stand for the position of president.


 That meant that there were three candidates for president, himself, Raele 
and the reformed character of Mischief.


 Less gratifying was the struggle to find Skidians that were prepared to 
stand for election for the parliament. A combination of cajoling, offering the 
odd subtle threat, and selecting volunteers meant that a full quota of 



hopefuls had finally been persuaded to stand.


 Only at Aotearoa were there no selectorial problems, all of Bruce's 
lieutenants presented themselves for election and were certainly a shoo in one 
way or the other.


 Mitch knew he was going to have problems there whatever happened, they 
were almost as pushy and assertive as their boss and like him played their 
cards very close to their chests.


 Perhaps with Bruce departing Aotearoa they would became a little more 
subdued in their manner. It didn't occur to Mitch that the reverse might be 
true, that they might consider they had been left in charge, that it was their 
duty to carry on as Bruce would have expected, not the least impregnating as 
many vessels as possible as the strong had always done in an atavistic urge to 
spread their superior genes through a population.


 Standing on the veranda Mitch watched Bruce load up the wagon he called 
the ute in preparation to his departure.


 Out of the corner of his eye he saw Raele watching Bruce with an 
expression of envy on his face as if he would like to join them, or simply 
disappear on a jaunt of his own. Mitch wondered whether he could suggest that 
to Raele, suggest that he take Bruce with him, preferably somewhere off the 
planet for good. Maybe, but not yet.


 Disconcertingly Mitch watched Iaut, Tweest and Ues standing hesitantly 
about obviously waiting for some direction from Bruce. They looked for all 
the world like dogs pining for their master, but more hangdog than Mitch had 
ever seen Bruce's dogs look.


 Bruce's dogs which assumed such an arrogant stance that it was almost as 
if around Aotearoa they considered themselves superior to every other being 
bar Bruce. Mitch felt a hot flush of humiliation as he vividly recalled one 
of the dogs urinating on his leg and wished there was some way of getting back 
at Bruce and his dogs.


 "Don't worry boys," Bruce's words drifted up to him as Bruce closely 
followed by the three Skidians made their way back to the house. "You have a 
pretty good idea of what needs to be done around the place, nothings going to 
go wrong."


 "When are you going to be back?"


 "Dunno."


 "Are you coming back ever?"


 "Yes of course, now look I'll only be away for a few days," he said 
reassuringly. "If anything goes wrong, or you don't know what to do, just do 
something."


 Mitch watched Bruce scratch his head as if he knew he wasn't making 
himself clear.


 "Oh fuck it, don't worry, just do the things we talked about earlier and 
make sure that arsehole Mitch doesn't get uppity."


 "Yes boss," the three said solemnly, perhaps cheered that their boss had 
at last given them the sort of direction they required.


 Mitch knew he was going to have trouble with those three, but then again 
Aotearoa wasn't the entire world. What trouble could they cause if they were a 
minority group in the parliament?


 "See ya later Raele, you too fuckhead," Bruce called mischievously to 
Mitch as he made his way down to the ute for the last time carrying the baby.


 "Get up," he called and the three dogs leapt onto the ute and immediately 
started barking. "Oh get fucked." Bruce yelled, which silenced the dogs for 
all of thirty seconds.


 "By Mitch, see ya Raele," Sue called out as she passed out from under the 
veranda. Mitch couldn't help wondering what Sue saw in Bruce. On one hand she 
seemed to be her own woman, the next minute she appeared totally dependant on 
Bruce, who didn't seem to notice either way. What did she see in him? Mitch 
shook his head sadly. Poor woman.


 "Well?" Mitch raised his eyebrows and looked at Raele once the ute had 
disappeared from view in a cloud of dust, feeling an overwhelming sense of 



relief at Bruce's departure.


 If he worked quickly either he or Raele with himself as his advisor would 
be president of this weird planet, the procedure was in place, all they had to 
do was set up a date for the vote... sometime in the next couple of days 
would be ideal.


 Likewise the settlements, Aotearoa, the industrial complexes and the 
burgeoning community of all the waifs and strays that he and Raele had 
gathered together in one of the cities would select the representatives they 
wanted to send to the parliament.


 Once that was complete Mitch was sure that most of the inhabitants of 
Aotearoa would be actively encouraged to leave the settlement for the bright 
lights of the closest city and quickly it would lose it's status as a viable 
entity.


 Only one cloud marred the horizon, two actually, what would Bruce do or 
say and would the Skidians leave? They had been given ample opportunity but 
none had done so far.


 Skidians did leave, Mitch corrected himself, especially since twenty or 
thirty vehicles similar to Bruce's 'ute' had unexpectedly turned up at 
Aotearoa.


 Mitch had a good laugh at the expense of the Skidians as Bruce began to 
teach some of them to drive.


 The results had been varied, some took to driving like a duck to water 
and were soon ranging far and wide. Others were far more cautious, obviously 
afraid of the vehicles and often not in full control of them. Busted fences 
and dented guards were testament to that. More than once Mitch had bent over 
and laughed hysterically as some unfortunate Skidian reversed full speed into 
a tree or another ute or tried vainly to avoid a collision, their eyes wide 
and staring through the windscreen as they careered out of control, 
ineffectually attempting to control the wild beasts.


 Needless to say Mitch hadn't given much thought to what mobility, 
mobility that opened up a whole new world to them, might mean to the average 
Skidian.


 eighteen


 "When are we going to stop?" Sue asked plaintively. It seemed to her that 
they had been driving across the grassy plain for ever. She wanted to give 
the baby a feed and the pressure on her bladder was becoming unbearable, 
almost as unbearable as driving to nowhere.


 Bruce wasn't talking too much and there wasn't a radio to listen to, no 
tapes either, just the same unending plain that stretched away before them for 
ever and the intermittent barking of the dogs, who seemed to like making a 
noise just for the sake of it. Though even they had been quiet for sometime.


 "Anytime you like."


 "What about now?"


 "If you like," Bruce said slowing the ute, at which the dogs began 
barking again which caused Bruce to frown angrily and bash his hand on the 
side of the ute.


 "Shut up you bastards!"


 'Get fucked,' echoed in Sue's mind.


 "I'll get you, you cocky bastard, you wait if I don't."


 "You and who's army?" It sounded like two kids squabbling. Sue looked 
across and saw the grin on Bruce's face.


 "Oh shit yeah! You know, I've always hated dogs that were too clever by 
half. What do you reckon I should do with them?"


 "Get them to look after little Bruce?" Sue suggested half seriously. She 
hadn't realised what a burden a young child could be until recently and 
couldn't wait for him to grow up, or for her to sufficiently trust a Skidian 
to look after him. 



 "Sounds like a good scheme to me."


 "I wasn't serious."


 "I was," Bruce said getting out of the ute and stretching.


 Sue watched Bruce gaze toward the horizon wondering what he saw there. 
She wouldn't have been surprised that now more than ever he longed for home. 
He didn't belong here, could never be really happy. All he needed was the 
means to make his escape


 "I didn't remember the trip to Sietnuoc taking this long before." Sue 
ventured nervously.


 "Nah, maybe it's moved or something." Bruce hadn't bothered to tell Sue 
they weren't headed for the city yet.


 "Maybe," Sue replied dubiously climbing out of the ute,looking for a 
handy bush to hide behind. There wasn't one so she squatted self consciously 
beside the ute, made all the more self conscious by the three dogs who 
gathered round to see what she was up to and then suspiciously sniffing at the 
damp patch on the grass.


 Bruce sat on the bonnet and rolled himself a smoke, wondering when Sue 
would mention the long, slim piece of timber that he intended using as a 
fishing rod.


 But she hadn't by the time she had fed the baby and they were off again.


 The sun was low in the sky and the shadows were lengthening on the ground 
when they crested a low rise and suddenly found themselves staring at the sea 
as if they had come to the end of the world.


 The setting sun had turned the clouds crimson above the pale necklace of 
a sandy beach that ran around the edge of the water. Here and there were 
patches of cream as deep clear blue waves lazily rolled onto the beach and 
broke up.


 "Oh," Sue said almost breathlessly after a few moments," it's beautiful."


 "Yeah." Bruce had to admit that it was quite a sight as he rolled forward 
down to the beach. He stopped at the edge of the sand, climbed out and ran 
down the beach and dived into the surf before he had a chance to consider what 
hidden dangers might lurk there.


 After swimming out almost a hundred metres from the shore Bruce turned 
and saw Sue standing on the beach holding the baby. He could sense her 
concern, but he didn't care, he knew she would be fretting wondering what he 
was up to. No doubt imagining that he was about to be gobbled up by a shark or 
something. Bruce half hoped that he would be. But the sensible part of him 
told him not to be silly.


 He slowly swam to the breaker line and managed to catch a wave that 
almost deposited him halfway up the beach.


 "Yahoo!" He yelled more exhilarated than he had felt in a long time and 
immediately wanted to do it again.


 But Sue was waiting, waiting for him to take her by the hand and find her 
something to eat and sleep under.


 "How long are we going to stay here?"


 "Oh a few days or so."


 "Where are we going to sleep?" Sue asked looking around with a dubious 
look on her face.


 "Under the stars."


 "You mean outside? I don't think I can do that." She added.


 "Why not?"


 Sue shrugged her shoulders and immediately assumed the downcast look that 
meant she wasn't pleased with the situation. Roughing it by the beach 
patently wasn't her idea of fun.


 "It won't be so bad, you'll see," said Bruce enthusiastically, looking 
forward to a few days lounging around the beach.


 "Look I've even got you a tent." Bruce pulled a small package off the 
back of the ute, pulled it away from the ute and tugged on a string. They both 
heard the sound of escaping air and watched in awe as a tent like structure 
began to unfold. 



 "It won't be very big," Sue declared. Then quickly had to change her mind 
as the structure grew and grew until it was the size of a small house.


 "Well I think it's big enough," Bruce remarked as it finally stopped 
growing and he reached for the zipper that ran around the door.


 "How did you manage this?" Sue asked incredulously.


 "I found one of those book things the other day that we used when we were 
last here."


 "Very nice Bruce," Sue said following him inside the remarkable piece of 
Skidian engineering. The 'tent' was fully self contained, complete with power, 
water and synfood reticulation systems.


 Bruce felt a little disheartened discovering that, he had intended to 
feed himself with the thawing meat on the back of the ute and whatever he 
could conjure up out of the sea or off the beach. He had already scanned a 
pile of rocks at the end of the beach with his binoculars and was sure they 
were covered in shellfish, not to mention the fish he was sure were out there 
in the water waiting to be caught.


 But it wasn't that bad afterall and the two of them enjoyed a pleasant 
week or so by the beach, swimming fishing and making leisurely trips along the 
coast setting up the tent whenever they felt like stopping, lingering for a 
day or two in one spot and then moving on to another.


 "What do you think Mitch is up to?" Bruce asked at one stage.


 "Oh I wouldn't worry too much," Sue suggested, "they can't live as they 
are, they need laws and some sort of government, especially as the old way has 
broken down."


 "But?"


 "But, like in any society real power and control isn't totally in the 
hands of government, you won't have to worry too much."


 Bruce wasn't sure what Sue meant, he didn't hunger for power, all he 
wanted to do was get on with his own thing whatever that was.


 "I don't want anything to do with it."


 "Are you sure? That's not what the Skidians think, or Mitch."


 "Yeah Mitch, I think he misses being in control, we'll have to watch that 
one. I s'pose we'll have to toddle back soon and see what the wankers up to."


 "Can we go back past the city?


 Bruce couldn't see why Sue would want to, but he couldn't see why not 
either. Though he was eager to get back to Aotearoa now another day or two 
wouldn't hurt. It would do Tweest, Ues and Iaut good to be left in charge for 
a little longer, nothing much could go wrong and if anything had it would 
easily be put right.


 nineteen


 It was strange feeling to find parts of Sietnuoc, if not exactly teeming 
with life as it once had, full of Skidians going self importantly about their 
business.


 The hustle and bustle was a little misleading for a few streets away from 
the parliament buildings and the space port were mostly empty and after a 
while Bruce thought he recognised the same faces hurrying around. It was as if 
they were walking in circles to give the impression of renewed life and 
vitality and strength of numbers. What was a little disconcerting was that to 
an individual the Skidians all wore a worried frown that Bruce recognised as 
meaning that something was wrong.


 None of the Skidians deigned to say a word to him which was unusual when 
he stopped and asked what the problem was.


 "There's something wrong here, the place gives me the creeps," Sue 
remarked casually. But Bruce detected a hint of fear and or uncertainty in her 
voice. "It's so eerie, what's going on?"


 "How would I know?" Bruce demanded as he navigated from memory along the 
wide streets to the parliament. 



 It felt strange to be heading back in that direction apart from their 
most recent landing on Skid, the last time Bruce had come this way, Inel had 
been his passenger and soon after he had been repatriated back to earth 
without his knowledge, without any recollection of Skid.


 Bruce felt his own uncertainty in the way his stomach tightened and the 
way sweat suddenly drenched his shirt despite the coolness of the evening. He 
wiped away the moisture that had suddenly gathered at his brow and dribbled 
down into and stung his eyes.


 For the first time on Skid Bruce suddenly felt he was heading into 
danger, heading toward a situation that might be beyond his capacity to 
control. He stopped the ute and reached behind him for the rifle in it's rack 
and rested it on the seat beside him.


 "Is that really necessary?" Sue asked, her eyes big and round.


 Sue had never seen Bruce look so troubled, not even when she had first 
seen him on the space ship heading to Skid. If nothing else, the mere fact 
that Bruce wasn't his normal imperturbable self was enough to alarm her. Not 
that he was always unruffled, she had seen him many times when he was excited 
or depressed, frustrated and angry, but never so cautious or clearly anxious.


 "I don't really know," Bruce said truthfully, rolling himself a smoke 
before slowly carrying on toward the parliament. "But there's something odd 
going on here, I'm sure of it."


 "Why don't we just turn around and leave then?"


 "Well we've got to find out what's going on, haven't we?"


 "Not really," Sue replied. As far as he was concerned her own skin was 
far more important to her than finding out why the Skidians all looked so 
worried, why they wouldn't acknowledge either of them. Then there was the baby 
to think about.


 "Do you want to stay here then, while I go and see what's going on?"


 "I don't want that either!" The last thing Sue wanted was to be left 
alone.


 "Look you could sit up there in one of those buildings and nobody would 
even know you were there." Bruce insisted, pointing out the window. "Look," 
Bruce said turning to face Sue, "we've got to live here for who knows how 
long, I must find out what's going on. I bet Mitch has decided to set up some 
kind of dictatorship and has organised some goons to make sure everyone toes 
the line or something."


 "What will you be able to do about that?"


 "Oh Mitch and a few Skidians don't worry me," Bruce replied, but he 
didn't sound totally convinced. "Lets pull in here." Bruce drove in to what 
looked for all the world like an underground carpark, except that the Skidians 
didn't have cars.


 "I reckon we should be able to see the parliament from upstairs," Bruce 
added. In the half light of the basement a few dim figures scuttled furtively 
out of the way as the ute came to a halt. Bruce flicked on the lights which 
revealed the figures of several Skidians huddled against the rear wall of the 
basement.


 Tentatively the Skidians lowered their hands from their faces which 
they'd covered when Bruce had switched the lights on and visibly relaxed when 
Bruce got out and approached them.


 "What's happening?" He asked, "what are you afraid of?" Bruce demanded, 
disturbed by the fact that the Skidians cowering by the wall were well and 
truly frightened, something that he'd never seen before.


 Despite the trials of the past few months and obvious uncertainty about 
the future all of the Skidians he had met had retained something of the 
arrogant bearing that he had always been a integral part of the Skidian 
character. But it seemed to have been squeezed out of these Skidians, 
something that hadn't happened even to those desperate Skidians that had been 
living from hand to mouth in appalling conditions out in the wilderness when 
the infrastructure of Skid had collapsed.


 The Skidians refused to say anything and scuttled away when it was 



obvious Bruce wasn't a threat to them.


 "What's wrong with them?" Sue called from the car.


 "I dunno," Bruce said thoughtfully, shrugging his shoulders and then 
stiffening as somebody close by screamed.


 The hairs on the back of his neck stood up and Bruce felt his heart begin 
to pump as the scream was repeated, the bloodcurdling scream of a person 
beyond simply feeling pain. The scream died away and was replaced by a long 
sobbing whimper. His senses heightened Bruce could hear angry shouts and the 
sound of footsteps on the cobbles outside.


 Bloody hell!


 "Bruce?" Sue asked as Bruce slid into the ute, switched the lights off 
and drove it into the darkest corner he could find.


 "Bruce what is it?"


 "I don't know, lock the doors and stay here until I get back." Bruce 
grabbed the rifle and a clip of bullets from behind the seat which he stuffed 
into his pocket. Can and Punch shied away from him on the back of the ute but 
Bruce grabbed them and shoved them inside with Sue and the baby. Cop could 
look after himself.


 "Bruce?"


 "Don't worry, lock the door, I'll be back in the minute. Just make sure 
these two idiots don't bark." Punch and Can were having trouble containing 
themselves,uncertain whether to be outraged at being left behind or astounded 
at their good fortune to be sitting in the bosses seat.


 Cocking the rifle and making sure it had a full magazine Bruce ran across 
the basement to the entrance and cautiously peered outside just as another 
agonized scream reached his ears.


 Initially Bruce thought that one bunch of Skidians was laying into 
another bunch of Skidians with sticks and clubs, who didn't seem to be doing a 
whole lot to defend themselves except for running around in circles like 
headless chickens. It would have been quite a comical scene, except for the 
screaming of somebody that rolled on the ground writhing in agony.


 Bruce wondered who the attackers were and then realised that they might 
not be Skidians at all. They looked a lot like Skidians, but were thicker set 
and darker. They wore plumed head dresses, loose shirts and short skirts like 
ancient Roman or Greek soldiers and instead of swords, only seemed to carry 
clubs or short wooden staves which they didn't seem to be using with any great 
effect despite the writhing body on the ground.


 Bruce took careful aim at one of the assailants and then changed his mind 
and fired a shot off into the air.


 At the sound of the shot booming across the street everyone froze. Bruce 
calmly worked the bolt and the sound of the empty cartridge bouncing on the 
cobbles was loud in the sudden frozen silence. He loosened off another shot 
into the sky and the whole scene changed as attacked and attackers fled, even 
the body writhing on the ground leapt to his feet and scarpered at such a 
great rate of knots that he couldn't be seriously hurt.


 twenty


 Several hundred metres away, Mitch heard the two shots echoing across the 
city and wondered if they signalled his death knell.


 "What was that?" Asked the man on the other side of the table who had 
seen Mitch flinch.


 "Trouble," Mitch replied shortly, "big trouble."


 "I don't understand."


 "That was Bruce, the man I was telling you about. I had hoped he would be 
conspicuous by his absence until we had secured the situation here but it 
seems that isn't to be."


 "One man, one man. Pah what can he do?" Eduid exclaimed arrogantly, "My 
legion will take care of him." 



 Mitch who had seen the legion at work doubted that. Raele had decimated 
the legion with the weapon that he kept secured in his wrist with the help of 
Bruce's lieutenants until Mitch had jumped on him and wrested away the weapon 
which now dangled on a rope about Eduid's neck.


 It was down to Mitch and Mitch alone that Raele and Bruce's lieutenants 
now languished in what passed for a prison cell in this very building. But 
Mitch wasn't going to remind Eduid about that.


 Eduid was obviously deranged, not only did he have delusions of grandeur 
but he was incredibly dangerous as well. Mitch had watched aghast as he had 
quickly disposed of any Skidian that made the slightest move of dissent and in 
the couple of days he had been on the planet had savagely subdued the 
Skidians. Mitch had no intention of becoming his next victim.


 "I will muster my legion immediately and track down this 'man'," he said 
contemptuously.


 The mighty legion, a rabble of untrained men from a place called Celcious 
B who carried sticks and clubs, who seemed more interested in preserving the 
neatness of their archaic tunics and fancy head dresses than anything else. 
Mitch wondered what Eduid had promised them. Untold wealth, women? Sadly for 
them there was little enough of either, on Skid there was no obvious wealth 
and any Skidian that could do seemed to have gone to ground in the great city 
where Eduid had demanded they gather.


 That wasn't a silly move Mitch had to admit, gathering the entire 
population in one place so he could keep an eye on them. Except now they 
outnumbered the legion by at least a hundred to one.


 The legion might be enjoying a reign of terror at the moment but that 
would last only as long as it took the Skidians to realise they could be 
overwhelmed by sheer force of numbers.


 Not that it would be necessary with the arrival of Bruce. Mitch strongly 
suspected even hoped that things would quickly return to normal.


 It had been a stupid move on his part to voluntarily throw his lot in 
with Eduid, but it was too late to change that now. It hadn't taken Mitch long 
to realise that Eduid was mad, not only did he claim responsibility for 
killing hundreds of millions of Skidians, his own people, but he wanted to 
repeat the process on every known planet throughout the galaxy until he 
controlled it all.


 "Even your own world Mitch," he had said gleefully. But why he would want 
to preside over a mostly empty universe was beyond Mitch.


 At first Mitch hadn't been able to believe his luck as the incredibly 
ludicrous sight of the legion had greeted him marching raggedly up the 
driveway that ran up the centre of the farm.


 Raele had just been confirmed as the president in the hastily arranged 
election. Iaut, Ues and Tweest had been returned unopposed to the equally 
hastily arranged community council elections at Aotearoa and their first move 
had been to banish him from the settlement.


 Just as he had been preparing to leave for the city a man who looked 
remarkably like Raele had shown up in front of this rag tag band of men.


 Mitch learnt a little later that Eduid was Raele's elder brother and as 
soon as Raele was disarmed found there was no love lost between the brothers. 
There was something of a verbal confrontation between the two Skidians and 
then the band of men, Eduids's legion attacked the members of the settlement 
who had gathered to see what was going on.


 At first it seemed that Raele alone would stem the tide as the charging 
yelling men suddenly vanished in puffs of smoke and bright light. While most 
of the Aotearoians stood rooted to the spot, Tweest, Ues and Iuat also joined 
the fray, beating ineffectually at their attackers.


 Mitch decided in an instant that any attacker of the settlement must be a 
potential friend of his and grabbing a club that had been thrown forward as 
it's owner disintegrated and whacked Raele over the head, which ended the 
short confrontation.


 Eduid had noted Mitch's action and the fact that his appearance marked 



him as different from everyone else.


 "Ah, one of the offworlder's," he remarked, "and what was your role on 
that planet may I ask?"


 "I was the leader of a large and powerful nation," Mitch replied, a 
little surprised that even if this man didn't know where he was, knew where he 
came from.


 "Come with me." Eduid had replied reaching out and taking the 
dazierawogga from Mitch's hand before Mitch knew what was happening. "Come 
with me and I will give you power that you never thought existed back on that 
puny primitive planet of yours."


 Mitch had come across many charlatans in his time most of whom, he had 
been able to avoid or dismiss. This time it was different, before he had a 
chance to consider the possible course his action would lead to, he had acted 
in the heat of the moment and set himself on a path that he would otherwise 
not have chosen.


 For on closer inspection Eduid was clearly not in full control of his 
marbles, was prone to flying into terrifying rages and blaming various 
subordinates for the slightest hiccup in his conquest.


 He had already reduced the number of his legion by three when they had 
failed to follow out his orders to go and beat a few Skidians up quick enough 
and there weren't that many of them to begin with.


 Eduid tapped the dazierwogga around his neck as if to make sure it was 
still there and called out to one of his men to sound the recall.


 Still crouching in the basement watching the odd looking men slowly 
gather themselves together to try and work out what the loud booming noise was 
no doubt, Bruce heard a loud horn sound. The horn must have heralded a recall 
for the men quickly jogged away.


 Once the men had disappeared from sight, Bruce relaxed and walked back to 
the car.


 "How many did you kill?" Sue asked though the partly wound down window.


 "What do you take me for? None of course!"


 "What are we going to do now? Get away from here as quickly as possible?" 
Sue knew that was probably too much to hope for. Hopefully Bruce would find 
her some place safe to stay put while he wandered off and sorted things out. 
The front seat of the ute was a bit small for her, baby Bruce and the two 
dogs. Especially when they began barking as Bruce approached the ute, when 
even whacking them over the head with a plastic bottle full of milk failed to 
calm them down.


 The horn sounded again outside and Bruce decided that they would probably 
start looking for him soon if only to find out what he was up to. If Mitch or 
anybody else from Aotearoa was around they would know what the sound of the 
shots was and that he was probably close by.


 "What was happening out there?" Sue asked.


 "Oh there were some weird looking Skidians trying to beat up some 
ordinary looking Skidians, that's all." Bruce remarked casually not wanting to 
let on that he had no idea of who the other Skidians were. For all he knew 
they might be from some other planet entirely.


 Bruce quickly decided that if he was going to move it had to be now 
before any search party started out to track him down. What he would do if it 
was already too late Bruce didn't know. Having to shoot somebody to defend 
himself and his family was a bit of a step up from phlegmatically bowling up 
to an ivop and blowing it's head off.


 "Search all the buildings," a loud arrogant voice called from close by. 
It was already too late.


 "Shit," Bruce muttered under his breath, now what?


 "You, check in there." Standing still by the car Bruce saw a face peer 
into the basement, scan the area and then withdraw.


 "Nothing there General."


 "How do you know you fool, did you actually go inside?"


 Bruce heard a whack like a piece of plastic pipe hitting the rump of a 



cattle beast and knew that some sorry soul was getting a thrashing.


 "Now go in and check properly you idiot."


 "Bruce?" Sue insisted through the partly open window.


 "Shhhh." Bruce whispered urgently as he slipped around the bonnet of the 
ute and crouched between the ute and the wall facing outward. He took careful 
aim at the entrance and waited for the inevitable surprised yell of discovery 
still uncertain how he would respond.


 Bruce took a bead on the figure as soon as it appeared and barely 
suppressed a chuckle. Even in the poor light it made a ludicrous sight. The 
feathered headdress was all awry, no doubt suffering from a recent beating and 
the person under it tapped carefully about with his long stick as if he were a 
blind man. Which he must have been because he obviously didn't see Bruce or 
the ute at the back of the basement.


 "All clear," a voice rang out and Bruce breathed a sigh of relief.


 But now what was he going to do? Bruce scratched his head, decided he 
better have a look see outside and padded across the basement.


 At the entrance once more Bruce lay against the wall and carefully 
glanced outside.


 "You can come out now," a voice called out as calmly as if they were 
playing hide and seek and he had been spotted.


 "Oh shit!" Somebody had been too clever by half. Bruce found himself 
staring into the laughing face of a man who looked remarkably like Raele with 
about twenty soldiers or pirates or whatever they were standing behind him.


 "I am really disappointed," the Raele look alike said, "Mitch said you 
would be trouble, but I can see he was mistaken."


 Mitch, the devious bastard Bruce thought, wait till I get my hands on 
him!


 "I can't be bothered." Bruce replied ducking back behind the wall, 
watching the man's shadow to see which way he moved.


 "If you don't come out I'll blow this building apart with you in it," the 
Raele look alike giggled and fired the small gun that Bruce hadn't noticed in 
his hand.


 "Shit!" Bruce leapt back out of the way as a large crater appeared in the 
ground just outside the entrance. The man fired again and lumps of masonry 
fell from the roof, partially blocking the entrance and providing some cover. 
Bruce slipped to the floor and crawled over to one of the large blocks and 
carefully looked out.


 Nobody seemed to notice him for the moment, but the like the stupid 
bloody git he was Punch came charging out of the basement, leapt over the 
rubble, closely followed by Can and at a distance Cop.


 "What the fucks going on here?" Why had Sue let the other two dogs out, 
the silly bitch!


 'I tried to stop him,' Cop puffed as Punch ran straight through the 
startled group of men barking loudly like a mechanical toy. 'Woof, woof, 
woof,' with each loping clumsy stride.


 "Pheeep, Pheeep. You bloody useless bastard get back here! But neither 
Punch nor Can were having any of that. Forgetting where he was for the moment 
Bruce stood up and shook his fist angrily at the rapidly departing dogs.


 "Useless fucken mongrels!" But he was secretly glad that they had got 
themselves out of the way. Now if he sorted this lot out one way or another he 
thought turning his attention back to the men in front of him, maybe Sue and 
the sprog can sneak away as well.


 Suddenly remembering what was happening Bruce dropped down behind his 
hunk of concrete and took another look at the men. Most of them seemed to be 
gaping at each other and holding their ears, wondering what the hell had hit 
them. Even the bloke with the laser thingy had his mouth hanging wide open in 
astonishment.


 "Bruce?" Sue called from the direction of the ute.


 "Get back in the ute," Bruce hissed, without looking around, "get back in 
the ute and keep quiet." 



 "I'm sick of you telling me too keep quiet, what's going on?"


 Bruce swung around and saw to his dismay that Sue was standing not twenty 
feet from the entrance, thankfully not holding the baby that was now squealing 
to itself somewhere behind them.


 "Get down, you stupid, stupid woman," Bruce yelled to little effect.


 "Don't yell at me Bruce! Just tell me what's going on!"


 "Oh for chrissake, stand there and get your nut shot of for all I care." 
Bloody woman!


 Bruce swung his gaze back outside and saw that the men out there were 
slowly pulling themselves together.


 "What is going on here?" Sue insisted from above him.


 Bruce didn't bother talking, he just dragged Sue to the ground and put a 
hand over her mouth. Sue tried to rip Bruce's hand away and kick him at the 
same time as Bruce hissed angrily into her ear: "Stay very still and very 
quiet, there's some goon out there that want's to kill us." Bruce removedhis 
hand, ready to clamp it back down if she tried to scream or do anything 
stupid.


 "It's only Raele," Sue whispered.


 "It's not fucken Raele at all. Use your eyes woman!"


 "There's no need to be nasty," Sue responded, her feelings hurt as she 
reverted to being just a poor simple defenceless woman because she didn't know 
what was going on.


 The Raele look alike with the laser weapon looked to have regained his 
composure and was bringing up the weapon to fire again.


 Bruce knew he'd have to do something soon, Punch was on his way back by 
the sound of him for one, not to mention that the next shot could easily get 
him, them. By standing around wanting to get involved Sue had made them both 
easy targets.


 The situation was getting quickly out of hand and Bruce knew he had to do 
something and fast, otherwise he'd end up squashed under the building or a 
little pile of ash.


 Not wanting to kill the man Bruce decided to try and blow the laser out 
of his hand like they did in cowboy movies. He took careful aim and fired. The 
booming sound of the shot filled the basement, to be immediately drowned out 
by the sound of screaming.


 Sue had her hands over her ears and was screaming hysterically in his ear 
so Bruce didn't see the result of his shot straight away.


 When he did take a look the look alike Raele was moaning and writhing in 
the dust and his little band of thugs were all on the knees with their 
foreheads touching the ground.


 Bruce stood up, cocked his rifle and carefully made his way over to the 
figure and looked down.


 Bruce didn't feel a thing, he thought it would be different to shoot 
another living being but he felt no different than if he'd shot an ivop, even 
though the man appeared to be mortally wounded.


 His aim had been true, the laser was lying several feet away, a lump of 
twisted glowing metal and plastic. But the bullet must have deflected off 
something for the man was trying unsuccessfully to staunch the blood pouring 
out of a large wound in his side and hold some of his guts in at the same 
time.


 "Help me," he croaked piteously.


 Bruce didn't think there was much that he could do for him and shook his 
head sadly.


 twenty one


 "What did you do that for?" Sue shrieked in his ear, "there was no need 
to kill him was there?" Then she turned away and vomited before stumbling off 
into the basement "I didn't mean too," Bruce tried to explain to Sue's 



retreating back. He nudged the body with his foot, wondering whether it was 
still alive. Evidently it was because it moved again and groaned. He knelt 
down and took a closer look at the wound.


 Nup, he decided, nothing I can do here. He was just about to put his 
rifle against the man's temple and blow his brains out when Mitch came puffing 
up.


 "What's going on here? He demanded self importantly. What have you done 
Bruce?!"


 "What does it look like?"


 "Why did you have to do that?" Mitch demanded, managing to hide his 
relief at the sight of Eduid obviously close to death. Couldn't have happened 
to a nicer person. Mitch just hoped that some kind of Skidian doctor didn't 
happen along to patch him up.


 "Because I felt like it, shit for brains," Bruce retorted, thinking that 
Mitch was almost as naive as Sue. What the hell did they expect him to 
do....stick around until he was zapped into ash, stand up and say shoot me? 
"What's his name anyhow?"


 "Eduid, he's Raele's elder brother, or was."


 "What's he doing here?"


 "Unfinished business I think, he was apparently responsible for the 
famine or whatever happened here before."


 Typical, Bruce thought. Mitch hadn't bothered himself much with the 
catastrophe that had struck Skid, all he was concerned with was him and now. 
Not the couple of hundred million Skidians that had died.


 Bruce looked at Eduid. "Well he got what he deserved then didn't he."


 "But you just shot him, in cold blood, that's not very civilised of you."


 "Oh get a grip on yourself Mitch, the bugger was trying to kill me."


 I wished he had, Mitch thought uncharitably.


 Unnoticed the dogs had arrived and Can was sniffing at the widening pool 
of blood that was already congealing.


 "Bugger off." Mitch started, immediately thinking that Bruce was speaking 
to him. When Bruce made to kick one of his abominable dogs he relaxed a 
little.


 "What do you think we should do with the legion?" Mitch asked, indicating 
the Celcion legionnaires who remained frozen in place.


 "Buggered if I know Mitch, you're the one with leadership aspirations, 
you decide," Bruce sneered.


 Deciding that the half baked legion could be just what he needed Mitch 
preened his ruffled feathers and strode over to the nearest Celcion.


 "I am you new commander," he began self importantly, standing with his 
legs slightly apart and his hands firmly planted on his hips. All he needed 
was a big cigar and he would fit the bill of the thistoric general he thought 
he was emulating. "I ask only one thing of you and that is too obey."


 The Celcions slowly raised their heads and looked at each other with 
puzzled frowns.


 "You're a bloody chook Mitch," Bruce laughed. But it was a short laugh as 
he suddenly spied a small fleet of robots bearing down on them like a mob of 
daleks.


 The dogs whined and sat as close as they possibly could to Bruce. For a 
moment Bruce thought about taking a few potshots at them, then realised what 
they were probably up to.


 He stepped out of the way, just about tripping over the dogs and watched 
half in awe, half in amusement as the robots went to work.


 The barely dead Eduid was sucked up by one of the larger robots and all 
the blood and gore cleaned away. In seconds it was if he had never been, 
except for the blood and watery stuff that seeped out of the robot's front 
hatch.


 The rest of them got straight into repairing the damage caused by Eduid's 
laser and almost as quickly had cleared away the rubble and were filling in 
the holes. In the blinking of an eye all traces of Eduid and the damage he had 



caused had disappeared and the robots were squeaking and creaking on their 
way.


 Bruce didn't quite believe it. He shook his head and wandered off to find 
Sue with Mitch's loud voice trying to exhort the legion into action with 
whatever empty promises that he had no intention of keeping ringing in his 
ears.


 "Don't touch me," Sue warned him when he leant on the door of the ute and 
looked inside at her.


 "I'm not bloody touching you!"


 "There's no need to yell and swear Bruce, you didn't have to kill him."


 "I didn't mean to kill him at all," Bruce insisted, uselessly he knew.


 "Didn't mean to kill him, then why point your gun at him?"


 Bruce didn't even know why he was bothering with the conversation.


 "Ok I'm sorry, I should have let him simply kill the both of us, better 
still I should have turned the gun on myself and saved him the trouble. Is 
that what you mean Sue?"


 "No of course it isn't," Sue said, clearly exasperated." At least you 
could have tried talking to him."


 "Oh I give up," Bruce snapped and pulled the door open. He savagely 
gunned the engine and dropped the clutch. The wheels squealed on the concrete 
and they headed for the entrance before Bruce remembered the men out there. 
Well Mitch won't be missed he thought, but slowed anyway.


 "Did you have to do that?" Sue demanded clutching their baby in one hand 
and clinging to the door handle with the other.


 "Either shut up or get out," Bruce replied, slamming on the brakes. There 
was the kid to think about after all.


 "On second thoughts, I'll get out and you can fuck off wherever you 
want!" Bruce grabbed the rifle and got out.


 "But!....you can't leave me here."


 "Why not?" Bruce asked mildly enough, his boiling anger slowly subsiding.


 "Because you can't that's why." Sue obviously couldn't think of a decent 
reason. All she knew was that she didn't want Bruce to leave, but she didn't 
know how to make him stay now that she had somehow upset him. "Please don't 
go."


 "Oh get fucked."


 "What's going on here?" Mitch strutted over and demanded. "I won't have 
you two scrapping in public, whatever will the Skidians think of us?"


 "Get lost Mitch," Sue snapped viciously, "this is all your fault!"


 "How is it all my fault?" Mitch demanded angrily. Not only was the legion 
refusing to obey him, but one of his own people was attacking him before their 
very eyes. How was he supposed to get their respect when he couldn't even 
control one woman?


 "Your fault, I don't know, it just is. Ever since you started to talk 
about elections and presidents and things the place hasn't been the same. You 
don't even know what you're doing!"


 Mitch swallowed guiltily, Sue was almost right and worse she wasn't the 
first observer to note he didn't seem to have a plan or know what he was 
doing.


 "Bugger off Mitch, or I'll shoot you as well," Bruce suggested with a 
laugh. Mitch wasn't sure whether Bruce was serious or not but he wasn't 
prepared to find out.


 Mitch took a hopeful look at the legion who were all watching the scene 
with mounting interest. He couldn't see any signs of support there and turned 
to walk off almost blinded by tears of rage and shame. A life of service to 
the people and he was now so poorly regarded that he commanded no respect at 
all amongst those that should be his strongest supporters.


 "I'm sorry Bruce," Sue muttered contritely, "I'm sorry for everything."


 Bruce shrugged his shoulders noncommittally and wondered what Sue was on 
about now.


 "Can we go now please?" 



 Where? What? Bruce realised that he'd never understand how a woman's mind 
worked in a million years. Well this one's anyway and he wasn't in the mood to 
be forgiving. He looked down at Sue and thought that he'd better just cave in 
and get back in the ute. Oh fuck it, he decided and feigning as much ill 
temper as he could muster stomped off with the dogs in tow not too close 
behind. It wouldn't do her any harm to do without him for five minutes. I 
thought modern women were supposed to be independent anyway? He chuckled to 
himself.


 "You're not going to leave me here with them are you?" Sue demanded, 
indicating the legion. But the legion had no intention of being left behind. 
They quickly formed a ragged column and followed Bruce leaving Sue to stare in 
wonderment at the sight.


 After a moment her spirits rose a little and she decided that if Bruce 
wouldn't come to her, then she must go to him. Sue didn't have much choice 
she decided, there was nowhere else or nobody else but Bruce.


 twenty two


 The oddly assorted cavalcade wound it's way through the streets as Bruce 
strolled toward the parliament. He wasn't sure why he was headed in that 
direction and soon realised that he'd either taken the long way or it was 
further than he thought. He didn't give a shit anyhow.


 The dogs trotted at his heel, but when Cop sensed that the boss wouldn't 
mind, they began to lope ahead of him, investigating anything that took their 
fancy. Stopping here and there, having a shit or a piss and then charging 
after the retreating figure of Bruce when he got a bit ahead.


 Behind Bruce the legion marched grimly, all their attention focused on 
Bruce, who unbeknownst to him had taken the place of their departed and 
unloved leader. They would follow him to the end of the world, as long as he 
led them home.


 Who in their right minds would want to stay on this crazy inhospitable 
planet? They would be much better off back on Celcious where they belonged 
waiting as they always had for the supplies of synfood. Collectively they had 
decided that allegiance to this strange Skidian was their best hope and when 
the time was right they would suggest that he send them home. Until then they 
would do what ever he bade them.


 The other strange Skidian they decided among themselves sounded far too 
much like Eduid, they weren't going to make the same mistake twice and follow 
somebody that was going to lead them into danger and get most of them killed 
for nothing.


 Bringing up the rear Sue wondered impatiently when Bruce was going to 
stop being childish and whether she could breast feed little Bruce while she 
drove along at walking pace.


 Eventually the cavalcade attracted interest from the Skidians that were 
about. Word had quickly spread about the demise of Eduid and even more rapidly 
about the procession winding aimlessly along the streets of the city.


 Before long Skidians slipped out of their hiding places and out from 
their various vantage points and overcoming their fear of the Celcion legion 
tagged onto the tail of the procession.


 By the time Bruce had found his way to the parliament he realised with 
astonishment what was happening and scurried inside looking for a place to 
hide.


 Equally astonished by his behaviour almost every living being on the 
planet milled aimlessly around outside wondering what was going to happen 



next.


 Inside the parliament his footsteps and the panting breath of the dogs 
echoed in the vast empty spaces as he wandered around not really knowing what 
he was looking for.


 "Bruce, where are you?"


 Sue, of all those waiting outside had ventured in and called out. Bruce 
could here the baby squalling irritably, no doubt in her arms and decided that 
he didn't really want to confront them yet.


 Spying a wide staircase he made his way upwards until he reached the 
upper level and looked down over the large empty chamber, easily big enough 
for all those that waited outside to seat themselves in. He walked over to an 
open window.


 Immediately his face was noticed by the Skidians and the expectant crowd 
hushed waiting expectantly for him to say something.


 Feeling a little like the pope, Bruce gave the crowd a casual wave and 
disappeared from view.


 What did they want from him? It wasn't really all that difficult for him 
to understand, he just didn't want to acknowledge their demands? No it wasn't 
a demand, it was more of a desperate silent appeal.


 "Where the hell's Raele?" Bruce muttered to himself hoping that he hadn't 
been killed by his brother. That was the man the Skidians should be looking 
to, though they seemed to have no faith in the poor bastard and Bruce didn't 
really blame them much for that.


 Still, he was their man, Bruce had no intention of taking upon himself 
the frustrating and thankless task of telling the Skidians how to live their 
lives.


 Hearing footsteps on the stairs Bruce quickly moved on and finding 
another stairway that seemed to lead down to a lower level of the building 
quickly disappeared.


 Finding himself in the bowels of the building Bruce wandered along the 
corridors until he found a door guarded by a nervous looking legionnaire.


 Bruce glared at the man for several moments, well aware of his increasing 
discomfort. He clearly didn't know what was going on and Bruce was going to 
help him. His eyes flicked nervously from Bruce to the dogs and back again, he 
shifted his feet and just about jumped out of his skin when Bruce suddenly 
yelled: "Boo!"


 The legionnaire was so stunned he dropped his lump of wood and after a 
moment took to his heels.


 "Who's there?" An anxious voice asked.


 "Me." Bruce replied recognising Raele's voice. Give me a moment and I'll 
let you out.


 Bruce searched for a lock and wondered whether he should chase off after 
the legionnaire to get him to open up the door.


 There wasn't a lock that Bruce could shoot at, which was probably a good 
idea seeing as though his last effort at movie style heroics had largely 
backfired.


 "How do you open this bloody thing?" Bruce pushed on the door with the 
palm of his hand. Surprisingly the door swung open to reveal Raele, Tweest, 
Iaut and Ues standing in a semi circle beyond the door waiting for him.


 "Thankyou for releasing us Bruce," Raele said, speaking for the four of 
them as was expected of him. According to Skidian tradition he also had to 
accord his saviour in such circumstances whatever he wanted. In this case he 
felt he knew what Bruce would want so he wasn't disposed to make that offer to 
the offworlder. Yet.


 Raele was fully aware that his elder brother Eduid fully intended to 
disinfect him, remove him as a threat to his leadership of Skid permanently, 
indeed he had wondered what was preventing him from doing so since he had been 
held in custody for several days.


 Now that Bruce had saved him from that fate, he owed him more than life 
itself. Raele's problem was that remaining alive brought with it it's own 



problems.


 He was leader, whether he liked it or not of a new and frightening world. 
He would have been quite content to lead Skid as it had been, he was equipped 
and prepared for that, he wasn't for the world it was now.


 But what was he too do. He had taken on board the ideas of the three 
young Skidians that had all but taken on the persona of Bruce the offworlder 
in that they were pushy and opinionated and somewhat awesome in their apparent 
competence. They still looked to him to lead in the traditional manner but he 
was sure that he was incapable of providing them with the leadership they 
required.


 By the way they looked at Bruce he almost felt that they would rather 
follow him despite their protestations to the contrary. Did they like himself 
perceive that like himself Bruce neither felt himself able or wanted to be a 
leader.


 His father had often said that the best leaders were those that led 
because they thought they had to, because it was expected of them. Those that 
sought to lead, the Eduid's, Mischief's and Mitch's of the world were not 
eminently suitable in most cases. Well that insight appeared to be correct if 
recent events were any guide.


 The pity of it was that the best potential leaders rarely got to lead 
because of their reticence or those less able and far less scrupulous made it 
impossible for them as Eduid sought to do.


 And where was Eduid?


 "Umm dead," Bruce replied.


 "Phew," Raele breathed a sigh of relief. He didn't need to ask how, he 
had heard the reports of Bruce's weapon to know well enough who had killed his 
brother.


 "And Mitch."


 "I don't think he will trouble you further, I'll make sure he doesn't," 
Bruce added thoughtfully. "It's about time you lot stopped farting about and 
got on with living." Bruce had decided that the Skidians didn't really need a 
leader or a formal system of government or anything else. All they had to do 
was get on with living with each other maybe with a set of basic rules to help 
them.


 Bruce scratched his nose thoughtfully and chuckled too himself, I'll have 
the last laugh here, if I can remember what the ten commandments are. He 
laughed out loud, the Skidians could spend centuries happily trying to work 
out what they meant.


 "What is so funny Bruce?" Raele asked, disturbed by Bruce's apparent 
disregard of the gravity of the moment.


 "Oh nothing much, come on," he said, "lets go and face your people so 
they know you're still around."


 Raele shrugged his shoulders ambiguously and allowed himself to be lead 
away.


 Upstairs Bruce glanced out of one of the windows and saw that the 
Skidians and the Legion were still out there waiting expectantly. At the back 
of the crowd he could see Mitch hovering, no doubt still harbouring various 
delusions. But Mitch despite standing on a chair he had found was exhorting a 
crowd who no longer had any time for him. He preached to their backs as they 
waited patiently for Bruce to appear in the window above them.


 "Who are they?" Bruce asked gesturing to the legionnaire, sitting at the 
front of the crowd.


 "My brother recruited a mercenary force on Celcious."


 The word Celcious caught Bruce's attention, they hardly looked like the 
formidable warriors that had once long ago laid waste to Skid.


 "What will you do with them?"


 "Send them back to Celcious B where they belong I expect." As far as 
Raele was concerned they were the least of his problems.


 Bruce waited for Raele to lean out the window and speak to his people. 
Not that he would have to say much, his very presence would reassure them. 



 "Well go on Raele do something," Bruce said gently pushing a resisting 
Raele toward the window.


 Raele knew what Bruce was trying to do and pushed him away.


 "You," he said pointing at Iaut, the most independent and opinionated of 
Bruce's three lieutenants. "Speak to them."


 If Iaut was surprised he didn't show it Bruce thought. Apart from a deep 
intake of breath Iaut didn't show any emotion as he stepped up to the window 
and looked out.


 The Skidians outside must have known what was happening for they cheered 
in the peculiarly chilling Skidian way as Iaut simply stood in the window.


 Bruce shook his head and glanced across at Raele who stared impassively 
at the wall. No matter how long he lived here he would never really understand 
the Skidians.


 After a while Iaut moved away and without a word headed down the main 
flight of stairs in a strangely dignified manner that had suddenly come upon 
him. Ues and Tweest followed him at a respectful distance and once they were 
out of sight Bruce heard a grunt of relief from Raele.


 Bruce looked across at Raele again and was a little taken aback that he 
looked a different person entirely, as if all the woes of the world had been 
lifted from his shoulders. Which they probably had Bruce reflected, the mantle 
of leadership had passed on. Hopefully they wouldn't look to him for guidance 
anymore.


 "What are you going to do now?"


 "In the tradition of the Skidian way I am either to be disinfected or 
provided with a patrol craft and exiled."


 "When will you find out what happens?"


 "Oh I already know," Raele smiled, "I am to be exiled, Iaut would have 
ordered my death immediately otherwise."


 Bruce looked out the window and was a little surprised to find that most 
of the Skidians had disappeared from outside. Mitch still stood 
disconsolately but his only audience was the Celcion legion who looked equally 
unhappy as they considered their fate. They knew enough of the Skidian Way to 
realise that things had changed even if Mitch didn't.


 "What about us?" Bruce asked hopefully.


 "I imagine you will want to go home and I don't think it would be fair to 
leave Mitch here." Raele gestured out the window at Mitch who's voice drifted 
up to them. While his voice drifted up, most of what he said was 
incomprehensible to Bruce. Mitch had clearly lost his marbles, Bruce wondered 
whether it was fair to inflict him back on the country he had recently 
presided over. On the other hand from what Mitch had said probably nobody 
would notice the difference.


 In a flash of insight Bruce wasn't entirely sure that going home was 
exactly what he wanted. In fact Bruce really didn't know what he wanted, or 
whether what he wanted was important, he had responsibilities to Sue and his 
parents who would soon be wondering where he was and when he was coming home. 
Who ever said life was simple?


 "Here you are!" Sue exclaimed, rushing up obviously relieved to see them 
both.


 "Has something important happened?"


 "No not really." Bruce knew he was going to have to be a little more 
sensitive to Sue's demonstrativeness and need for continual reassurance.


 "I heard that Iaut is the new chief Mati of Skid."


 "Well if you knew, why did you bother asking me then?" Bruce demanded 
angrily.


 "Because I knew it would wind you up," Sue replied gaily pinching his 
cheek. "Iaut already stopped to tell me when they were walking down to his new 
office, don't you think it's exciting?"


 "What's exciting?"


 "We can go home now and sell our story to the tv people and become 
instant millionaires." 



 "What?!"


 "Isn't it great?"


 "No it isn't, I have no intention of selling any story to anybody 
thankyou very much, you want to be treated like an idiot for the rest of your 
life? Besides that, what about Mitch?"


 "Oh." Sue obviously hadn't thought about that one much. "I guess he can 
go back to being president can't he?"


 "Look out the window, Mitch has lost his marbles."


 Sue glanced out and shook her head. "I don't see anything wrong."


 Bruce looked out himself just to make sure. Mitch was still there talking 
to himself foam gathering at his lips, even as his only audience was being led 
away. "No wonder your country's such a mess if that's considered normal."


 "Don't be like that Bruce, you can be so negative at times."


 "At least I'm realistic," Bruce retorted, wondering if he really was. 
"We've got to think about this, we can't just drop Mitch off in his present 
condition, who knows what kind of mischief he might get up to."


 Sue didn't really care, her mind was full of visions of talkback shows, 
radio interviews and the book she would write and the money she would make, 
the attention she and Bruce would receive wherever they went. Life on the farm 
could wait until they had their fifteen minutes of fame. It didn't enter her 
mind that it could be very different, that authorities back on earth were 
already on the trail of a mystery and coming to terms with the fact that they 
were no longer the only known life forms in the universe as well as trying to 
work out what that meant. There was solid evidence that earth had been 
visited by some form of intelligent life, though this knowledge was strictly 
restricted to five thousand or so people who were mostly taking an enforced 
break at a heavily guarded, isolated dot in the Pacific Ocean and those 
grappling with problems that threatened to shake the very foundations of 
society in a large white house.


 Was there really life out there or were they simply the victims of an 
elaborate and successful hoax? And what about the fantastic stories of a 
drunken restaurateur and a senile old woman that had been hastily dismissed 
for lack of evidence?


 twenty three


 With almost indecent haste Raele pushed Bruce, Sue and the dogs onto his 
patrol ship which had appeared in the suddenly bustling space port.


 As Raele hurried them to the ship Bruce saw the Celcion legionnaires 
being shoved aboard another ship and cast his eyes over the space ships that 
had suddenly appeared. Skidian pilots and their crews strolled around the 
ships talking to each other, no doubt puzzling at their sudden recall to a 
planet they thought had died.


 The procession of the legionnaires or the offworlders was hardly noticed 
by the hardened travellers who had no doubt seen many strange sights on their 
trips to the far reaches of the known universe.


 It struck Bruce that there were probably more Skidians roaming around the 
space port than on all the rest of Skid and it also began to intrigue him why 
they had taken until the last few hours to return. Was there more to what was 
going on Skid than met the eye?


 On Board the ship Raele relaxed, as Bruce and Sue had made their 
farewells he had been wound up like a spring, as if he believed that Iaut 
would still order him killed. Bruce hadn't been impressed with the overweening 
arrogant creature that Iaut had become in the few short hours since he had 
become Chief Mati.


 Bruce couldn't get over the change that had been wrought on Iaut, not to 
mention Tweest and Ues. Under the thin veneer of subservience and liberalism, 
there must have lurked the good old Skidian trait of arch conservatism. They 
were evidently very keen to see the last of Bruce and Sue and any subversive 



ideas that might have resulted in their stay.


 Wasn't Iaut one of the biggest subversives out? Iaut had said something 
to that affect in the haughty manner he now assumed. His half apology showing 
Bruce that there were still chinks in his armour.


 But even so, Bruce marvelled at how quickly the leopards spots could 
change. He wondered if a few alternative lifestyle types would continue living 
at Aotearoa and found he didn't really care, he wouldn't be back here again.


 Perhaps a few hardy souls would be encouraged in their endeavours as long 
as it suited the new regime.


 "What about Mitch?" Sue asked from the corner she had settled in to feed 
the baby.


 Raele scowled, he had hoped to avoid the necessity of returning Mitch to 
his home world. He was, to put it mildly mentally unstable. Raele had hoped 
that if he left without him that Iaut would deal with him in the appropriate 
way. Restoring him to his former self and position was going to be a more 
complex task than he cared to attempt, for whatever he did, Mitch would be for 
always, someone who had become completely irrational.


 Mitch could be returned back in time to any point of his former existence 
but even the might of Skid couldn't return his cerebral equilibrium to him.


 "Maybe we could leave him on Candour, he wouldn't be out of place there," 
Raele ventured nervously, knowing that the longer they waited the more likely 
it would be that Mitch would be marched out to the ship. Fear of Iaut changing 
his mind hadn't been his sole motivation in wanting to make a hasty exit. He 
had brought Mitch to Skid and that made him responsible for the offworlder, a 
singularly unpleasant responsibility.


 "We can't just leave him here or drop him off on some other planet," Sue 
retorted, outraged at the prospect, sure in her own mind that everything would 
be just fine when they got home. All they had to do was get Raele to do some 
of that time travel stuff and bugger the consequences.


 "Why not?" Bruce asked, he didn't want to have anything to do with trying 
to put humpty back together again either. As far as he was concerned the world 
would be a better place without Mitch.


 "We can't just leave him here, ouch!" Sue snapped, wincing as the baby 
gnawed on her nipple.


 Bruce tried to imagine the effect of the return of a demented leader 
blabbing about spaceships and a planet called Skid, might have not only on his 
country and it's new leadership, but the rest of the world. After a moment or 
so he decided that he didn't even want to try and think about it. Once Mitch 
got back and the circumstances behind his disappearance were revealed there 
was no telling what might happen. The world would be swept by alien phobia 
with people being convinced that an invasion from outer space was just round 
the corner.


 Then people who thought they could gain something out of the situation 
from bent politicians, to business men, to bible bashers of all creeds cashing 
in on the fact that armageddon was just round the corner, would jump on the 
band wagon and do little more than create even greater turmoil. Whipping up 
people's collective fear for all it was worth until the whole planet was 
aflame.


 It would be best if they just forgot about Mitch, he'd be ok, Bruce was 
sure of that. Every community was better off with some poor idiot to prick 
their consciences and remind them that there were worse things in life. 
Besides the good old USA had probably learnt to live with him and his 
reappearance would only serve to cause problems, even if he had all his 
marbles.


 That Mitch probably wouldn't survive their departure long didn't cross 
his mind.


 Bruce could see by the set of her features that Sue was adamant, maybe 
they should get Mitch, maybe he was just being overly pessimistic about the 
dangers involved in returning Mitch home. Afterall even in his present state 
he could hardly do worse than some of his predecessors or counterparts in 



other parts of the world. Could he?


 Bruce looked out the doorway and saw that they weren't going to have any 
choice in the matter anyhow. Babbling happily, though insensibly away at the 
top of his voice Mitch was being dragged towards the space ship by two unhappy 
looking Skidians.


 "You want to inflict that on America?" Bruce asked.


 "I don't really care do I? 'm not going to be there, well not for long 
anyway."


 "What do you mean?" He'd been so busy worrying about the implications of 
dropping Mitch back into the midst of an undoubted crisis, that he hadn't 
stopped to consider what was going to become of the two of them, or what point 
in time they would arrive. He simply imagined that he would go home and live 
happily ever after.


 Did Sue mean to come with him? Bruce felt that the treadmill he was on 
was suddenly tearing along out of control. Maybe he should give more thought 
to his own future than worrying about Mitch's.


 And what about Raele, what was he planning to do?


 As the door closed and Raele fiddled with the controls Bruce rolled 
himself a smoke.


 Mitch positioned himself in a corner and proceeded to talk to the wall.


 "I don't know what we're going to do with him," Bruce sighed, shrugging 
his shoulders. "I don't even know what I'm going to do with me," he added 
slumping down beside Sue.


 "You're going to have to give up smoking," Sue said, "at least around me 
and the baby."


 Bruce took out his smoke and watched the growing tip, what the hell am I 
letting myself in for he wondered, suddenly finding he didn't really care.


 "You're the boss," he said tiredly. Almost looking forward to the 
prospect of being bossed around a little bit.


 "So what do you suggest we do with Mitch?"


 "Can we return him to the time we met you in the restaurant Raele or just 
before that perhaps?"


 Raele didn't know what a restaurant was but he nodded his head anyway, 
pleased that returning a crazed former leader to his own planet wasn't going 
to be his responsibility.


 "So that maybe you just took him on a little trip somewhere?"


 "Yes," Raele nodded his head, "I can do that."


 "And what about us?"


 "What about us?"


 "Well we want to remember everything that happened don't we, so we don't 
think we're going nuts again," Bruce suggested hopefully.


 "I can do that," Raele said, knowing that he shouldn't. Still as far as 
he was concerned the old rules didn't matter to him, he owed nobody nothing 
now.


 "And afterwards?"


 "I don't understand," Raele replied.


 "Which part of the universe are you headed for?"


 Raele rubbed his hairless chin ruminatively as he had seen Bruce do so 
many times and sighed.


 "I do not know."


 "Oh you can come and stay at home for a while if you like," Bruce 
suggested pleasantly not expecting Raele to take him up on his offer.


 "Bruce?"


 "Yes dear?" Bruce drawled lazily lost in his own thoughts.


 "Will your parents mind if we get married in America before we move?"


 "Why do we need to get married?"


 "Don't you want to?"


 "Maybe next year," Bruce suggested trying to refrain from grinning. His 
old's would feel left out if they weren't at the wedding.


 "Oh be serious for a moment will you?" 



 "Yes my parents would mind."


 "Oh well it was just a suggestion."


 "By the way Raele, how do we transport Mitch and ourselves back to 
different points in time?"


 "I just set this clock back here," Raele replied pointing to a disc on 
control panel. "All I have to do is access the database records of my last 
flight, check the log and select a time."


 It sounded like a piece of piss to Bruce, though he knew that Heath 
Robinson's rules applied with everything Skidian.


 "When do we do that?"


 "As soon as we are at full velocity," Raele told him, "like now." The 
patrol craft seemed to rock slightly and seemed to Bruce to hang in the air as 
if somebody was changing gear and then in an instant was travelling through 
space at a speed never imagined possible by mankind.


 Raele checked his computer screen and punched a few keys. "Next stop the 
eating house," he said with a grin, hoping he was right.


 twenty four


 Bruce wondered what had happened when he woke from a little doze and 
heard hail on the roof. Raele's fucked up again he thought as he opened his 
eyes. He glanced around and found he was still aboard the space ship.


 He looked up and saw that Raele had a worried look on his face as he 
stared out the window.


 Bruce followed his gaze and was horrified to see that they were coming 
into land at some kind of airport with flashes of light streaking out from the 
ground to meet them.


 In the same instant he realised what the hail and the lights were, they 
were being shot at! Something trailing a long flame approached them at an 
unbelievable speed, then another and another.


 Bruce felt whatever they were strike the hull, not that they seemed to 
have any affect.


 "What the fuck?"


 "I have made an error Bruce, we have come back too early."


 "Oh shit, does that matter?"


 "Umm, well if we don't try again Mitch will meet himself and that might 
not be a good idea."


 "Just as long as I don't meet me," Bruce said half seriously. "Were they 
waiting for us?"


 "Oh no, that won't happen," Raele insisted, but not strongly enough to 
convince Bruce totally. What could they do about it anyway? Raele's assurances 
weren't worth anything. "And no I don't think so," he added as an 
afterthought.


 "What about that shit?" Bruce asked, pointing to the lethal fireworks 
display directed at them.


 "It might stop if we land, it did the last time."


 "Ok," Bruce glanced around looking for Sue. He knew they shouldn't really 
drop Mitch off out of sync. But what the hell? Creating problems for America, 
setting off the most convoluted conspiracy theory of all time appealed to his 
warped sense of humour. "You've been here before then?"


 "Oh yes, I have landed here before." Raele guided the space craft down a 
long runway toward the source of the gun, rocket and artillery fire and came 
to a stop before the closed doors of a hanger.


 Bruce thought they had come to a stop but the hanger doors slowly folded 
inwards until the ship was safely inside. Well more or less safely, Bruce saw, 
as parts of the hanger seemed to fall around them.


 "Is the ship damaged?"


 Raele pressed a button. "Fully functional," he replied as the hail 
suddenly subsided. 



 Bruce wondered what to do next. Should they simply open the door and push 
Mitch out or what? He rolled himself an agbar cigarette.


 While he was wondering what they should do, with Raele standing patiently 
standing alongside with a smoke up his nose faces began to appear in the front 
window. Faces peered inside, shading their eyes and grimacing more often than 
not, which made Bruce feel vaguely discomforted, as if he were a goldfish or 
something.


 "Can they see us?"


 "No."


 "Thank christ for that," Bruce replied almost laughing at the antics of 
the people who were trying to look in.


 Weirdly out of shape faces pressed up against the window, people 
flattened their noses against the outside, licked the outside of the screen, 
spat and sneered. Further back other figures wandered around obviously taking 
a good look at the space ship until somebody came along and obviously ordered 
all the now cocky figures in uniform out of the way. The soldiers? Suddenly 
snapped into action and shortly afterward marched away more or less in an 
orderly fashion.


 Different faces peered in now, older lined and clearly worried faces, 
their shoulders and chests bearing braid and coloured ribbons and others in 
more nondescript uniforms.


 "Where is Mitch by the way?"


 "He is resting," Raele waved vaguely behind him.


 "Don't you think we should let him out?"


 Bruce watched Cop stretch himself and yawn baring his teeth, drawing his 
lips and exposing his teeth.


 "Soon be home boy," Bruce told him.


 'I should bloody well think so too!'


 Bruce walked over to the accommodation area and pressed his palm against 
the wall. In the first room Sue was sound asleep with the baby gurgling 
happily beside her on the bed. Best leave them alone Bruce thought.


 In the next room Bruce found Mitch curled up on the bed in a foetal 
position with a thumb in his mouth.


 Poor dumb bastard, Bruce thought pitying Mitch for a moment wondering 
idly when he pushed him out the door, who would be inflicting what on who.


 He softly shook Mitch awake, accompanied by Cop who gave him one of his 
human like enquiring looks. "Come on Mitch, time for walkies."


 Mitch seemed to take an inordinate amount of time to wake. For a moment 
Bruce thought he might be dead, but finally Mitch was looking at him with 
strangely unfocused eyes.


 "Ladies and Gentlemen, I am honoured to be invited to address you this 
evening. I wish to propose a framework that we can employ in a non partisan 
manner to overcome our pres...." His voice trailed away and Mitch began to 
cry. "Why won't anybody listen to me? We could do great things together, 
please let me try," he sobbed imploringly.


 "Dunno Mitch, maybe you'd like to try someone different for a change?"


 Mitch brightened at Bruce's suggestion and allowed himself to be led from 
the room. "See ya later, you old fart," Bruce said pushing him towards the 
door that Raele opened on Bruce's signal.


 Bruce stepped back out of the way after giving Mitch a shove in the right 
direction so that nobody could see inside.


 "Look the doors opening," he heard a startled voice cry fearfully, "get 
ready to receive our guests." There was a flurry of activity outside and 
further gasps of surprise as their guest was recognised.


 "It's the president!"


 "Are you sure, it might just be a look alike or something?"


 "Might be the aliens trying to reassure us maybe?"


 "Who knows, it sure looks like President Mitchell?"


 'Woof woof woof woof.' Awakening from his slumbers, Punch saw that the 
door was opening and thinking it was all on for young and old, charged out the 



door. Woof woof woof. Bruce could just imagine him slobbering all over the men 


outside.


 "It's a dog!"


 "Man's best friend, boy these aliens are fiendishly clever aren't they."


 "Good day sir, my name is General Marks."


 "My name is Mitch," Mitch replied.


 "Are they talking to you Mitch?" General Marks enquired a little 
taken aback.


 "Oh no, I don't think so."


 Bruce cursed silently, that bloody dog's chosen the worst possible time 
to run off he thought. He could hear the idiot bastard animal barking his head 
off through the still open door and somebody calling. "Here boy, here boy."


 "You touch that dog and you'll fry," Bruce yelled, so much for anonymity, 
"get back in here you dumb bastard!"


 Bruce didn't really want to go outside and grab the mutt, and meet the 
locals but it looked as if he might have to. Just as he was going to step out 
into view Punch, looking exceptionally pleased with himself came charging back 
through the door.


 "You bloody idiot!" Bruce aimed a kick in Punch's general direction, 
missing by a wide margin. Punch, like the great goofy twit that he was sat 
down just out of reach, panting away grinning at Bruce.


 "Hello up there?" A worried voice called through the door," can we come 
in?"


 "No you can't." Bruce replied, "close the fucken door Raele."


 Bruce stood ready to kick the nuts of the owner of the hand and knee that 
tried to force their way through the door but they quickly withdrew when it 
appeared the door was going to close no matter what.


 "Let's get of here."


 Raele fiddled with his controls and without any perception other than 
watching the astonished, perhaps fearful figures clustered around Mitch slowly 
recede into the background, the ship moved away. Outside the hanger, the ship 
turned slowly and then sped away above the runway and streaked into the sky.


 "Home time," Bruce remarked. Notwithstanding that he wasn't home yet.


 "Where's Mitch?" Sue wiping sleep from her eyes asked .


 "Oh you can hear about it on the news tonight, or whenever."


 "How could you, what have you done?"


 "I left him where I found him," Raele said coming to Bruce's assistance.


 "Yeah we didn't want to wake you up," Bruce added lamely.


 "You rotten sod, you could at least have let me say goodbye."


 "To that dickhead, why for?" Bruce couldn't believe his ears,in recent 
times Sue's opinion of Mitch was even lower than his own.


 "You have no idea sometimes Bruce, we might never see him again."


 "I hope that's true," Bruce muttered just loud enough for Sue to hear.


 Sue ignored him and turned to Raele: "What about us?"


 "Whenever you like."


 twenty five


 Whenever you like turned out to be pretty well immediately. Bruce shook 
Raele's hand and wished him well.


 "Don't forget the dogs will you Raele, I'll need them when I get home and 
look after yourself eh?" Bruce stuck out his hand and Raele shook it warmly 
for much longer than was necessary as was Skidian custom. "And drop by 
sometime," Bruce added assuming Raele would know where to find them.


 "Yes do that," Sue echoed the sentiment and stood on her tiptoes to kiss 
him on the cheek.


 Raele turned bright crimson which came as a complete surprise to Bruce. 
He'd never seen a Skidian blush, let alone show much real emotion. Perhaps 
Raele wasn't such a bad bloke, the best of the bad lot. 



 In an instant Bruce found himself opening the front door for Sue as they 
entered Trev's restaurant. Given that he'd just said goodbye to Raele it came 
as something of a surprise to see him sitting comfortably at the bar beside 
Trev.


 "You!" Bruce echoed Sue's surprised voice and from another time. Bruce 
just about asked where Mitch was but caught himself just in time. Time? How 
the hell did Raele come to be sitting there by himself? Raele was a time 
traveller, he could do anything Bruce guessed, or had the past few weeks been 
some sort of dream and Raele from another time.


 But how could that be? Bruce remembered everything now, the time before 
and after, which didn't explain Raele's presence at all. Where was Mitch, in 
the shithouse?


 "Small world eh," Trev said, "Raele said he knew the both of you from 
somewhere."


 "Small world? I suppose so." Not sounding overly enthusiastic seemed to 
wipe the grin slowly off Raele's face. "Nice to see you again Raele." Bruce 
said extending his hand feeling a bit silly shaking the Skidians hand after 
just a few moments. "Long time no see."


 "Yes Bruce, hello Sue."


 Sue nodded and found interestingly enough that she was pushing little 
Bruce in the pushchair his grandmother had bought him.


 Bruce walked around the bar and grabbed himself a beer and a softdrink 
for Sue and lit up a smoke trying to remember what he was doing there and if 
it really mattered. Was his immediate past the same as the one that he thought 
it was? Or what? Bruce certainly didn't, soon he would be married, perish the 
thought and then he would be going back home.


 "What are you doing here? Sue asked rather acidly, believing Skid was all 
behind them now.


 "Well you did say, say drop in anytime," Raele replied unconscious of the 
fact that neither Bruce nor Sue had expected to be taken so literally, or so 
quickly at their word.


 Trev was a little taken aback, Raele was quite an odd, very formal bloke, 
not the sort of person he'd have picked to be some kind of friend of Sue's or 
Bruce's. But then there was something a little odd about them to, as if they 
had a secret that they couldn't or wouldn't share. Not to mention that they 
made as an unlikely couple you could imagine.


 "Are you working at the moment?" Trev asked.


 "Eh, what do you mean?" And then Bruce remembered that he was supposed to 
be paying for his keep by working behind the bar. "Oh yeah, sorry mate. Bit 
on my mind at the moment." Bruce decided he'd better serve the customers at 
the bar and then do a quick sortie of the tables, whipping away empty glasses 
and emptying out the ashtrays.


 "Sit down with us," Trev suggested to Sue. He still harboured ambitions 
of getting into her pants despite Bruce's apparent headstart. For an instant 
he pictured her sprawled on one of the tables in a seductive pose, one of his 
favourite fantasies and the reason his last waitress had left.


 "Thankyou Trev," she said seeming to remember that Trev was interested in 
her, but also remembering that the last time she had been here they had been 
coming to get Bruce's belongings because he was going to move in with her.


 "Will you be coming to the wedding if we get married here?" Sue asked 
disconcertingly.


 Trev almost choked on his drink. "I guess so, if I'm asked that is," he 
replied, trying hard to keep the disappointment out of his voice.


 The sound from the television in the corner screening a baseball game or 
something suddenly increased.


 "We break into this sportscast to bring you a news flash," a voice said 
and almost every head in the place swung towards the screen. It had to 
important stuff indeed if the television station broke away from a baseball 
game.


 News flash graphics filled the screen followed by snapshots of recent and 



past big news stories.


 The graphics faded with the end of the special news flash jingle that 
sounded vaguely like a promo for the War Of The Worlds and the face of a well 
known news presenter filled the screen.


 The news presenter stared gravely at his audience and prompter then 
nervously shuffled the papers on his desk without looking down to see what he 
was doing.


 "Good afternoon ladies and gentlemen. Astonishing news from Washington 
this afternoon, in the last few minutes the White House has announced that it 
has been in contact with representatives of a civilisation from the 
furthermost reached of the universe." The news presenter wiped his brow and 
paused for several moments as if he wasn't sure himself of the news that he 
was reporting. This wasn't a tabloid news show afterall, he was the nations 
premier current events reporter, or so he had been told often enough for it 
almost to be a reality.


 "We have just received video tape of what appears to be a UFO landing at 
an undisclosed Airforce base and what appears to be the first meeting by 
representatives of the United States Military Forces and beings from an alien 
culture."


 The sight of Raele's space ship coming into view above a runway replaced 
the newscaster and with it the excited voice of whoever was holding the video 
camera.


 "It must be doing three thousand miles and hour at least!"


 "Five thousand seven hundred kilometres an hour," somebody else 
suggested. "If he doesn't slow down soon he'll plough right through the 
hangers at the end of the runway."


 "The base has been on high alert since the UFO's sighting and it's 
failure to respond to any communication and the defense systems are targeting 
the UFO."


 "I must say Roger, I don't know why, we don't know whether this craft is 
hostile or merely on an exploratory mission."


 "Enough of that you two, you aren't reporters, just get the pictures!" A 
third voice yelled.


 The picture wavered for a moment and there was a thump as if somebody had 
been hit over the head, but it was quickly sighted back on the UFO the focus 
of streams of bright red dots as every available weapon on the base opened up 
on it.


 "The UFO landed shortly after this videotape was taken apparently 
unaffected by the barrage of fire directed at it," the presenters voice broke 
in over the tape, "and first contact was made with the alien representatives."


 The shot cut to wreckage of a large building with a group of men milling 
about a large saucer shaped object that was Raele's space ship.


 "Shortly after landing a representative of the......."


 "What's going on here Bruce?"


 "Shhh," somebody called across the room, "Can't you see this is 
important." Apart from the commentators voice and the odd slurp there was 
complete silence in the restaurant. Even the traffic noise seemed to have died 
away outside, from time to time a breathless figure entered looking for a 
television to watch.


 "Bruce?" Sue insisted and everyone swung around and glared at her. "What 
have you done?"


 Bruce merely shrugged his shoulders and did his best to disassociate 
himself from Sue and the newsflash by making himself as inconspicuous as 
possible behind the bar.


 "It looks like the president himself!" Someone exclaimed as Mitch exited 
the UFO and one of the reception committee ran forward to catch him and lead 
him away.


 Then Punch ran out the door."Get back in here you beep idiot beep Punch! 
Pheep, pheep! I'll have you, you beep beep!" Bruce cringed at the sound of his 
own voice and listened with some interest as the newscaster tied to explain 



that one. 
Where have those bloody dogs got to now? Cyril Hardwood swore at the empty 
kennels wondering how his son's strange dogs had slipped out of them. 
He turned away and scanned that part of the farm he could see and hearing 


a scratching sound turned back to the kennels.


 The dogs were there!


 "Yes you old dickhead," the old heading dog seemed to say, "where did you 
think we'd been? Outer space?"


 Cyril Harwood shook his head and wondered whether he had gone senile 
overnight. He hoped that Bruce would get in touch with them and tell them he 
was coming home soon, he was getting too old for this sort of shit.


 "Cyril! Cyril! Come quickly," his wife called shrilly from the house, "Oh 
Cyril," she screamed hysterically.....


 "Don't be silly dear," Cyril said a few moments later, "the dogs are 
outside all three of the strange bastards and we've just had a card from 
Bruce, he's miles from there."


 "It appears that the alien who has been meeting with government officials 
bears an uncanny likeness to our own President Mitchell.


 It also appears that the UFO also carries likenesses of at least one 
species of animal life found of earth and other passnegers who have a good 
grasp of various english language obscenities." Bruce didn't know how the 
newscaster kept a straight face over that one, the whole situation seemed 
somewhat surreal, like some poorly written scene in a third rate sci fi movie.


 "We now cross to Doctor Amos Nelson at the Centre for Extraterrestrial 
Research in Colorado, Doctor Nelson, what do you make of this, er," the 
newscaster made an uncustomary hesitation, "er event?"


 "I think this visitation justifies the billions spent on trying to 
contact intelligent forms of life throughout the universe, it appears that we 
were right all along," the rather large man with a thick grey bushy beard who 
apeared on the screen replied smugly.


 "Ah what do you make of the ..."


 "Envoy?"


 "Yes the apparent similarity of the envoy to our own president, the use 
of the English language and the presence of what appeared to be a dog?"


 "I think it is entirely possible that the envoy has assumed the form of 
President Mitchell in order to set us at ease, I don't know why they chose to 
land here or whether in fact this is the only place they have landed on the 
planet. For example an envoy to say China or India, if there is one would 
probably assume the image of their President or Prime Minister."


 "You don't believe this is an elaborate hoax of some kind? Isn't the UFO 
too neatly what we imagine a UFO to look like? Isn't the appearance of a 
President Mitchell lookalike just too coincidental? This is election year 
afterall?"


 "Anything's possible," Doctor Nelson conceded," there have been plenty of 
hoaxes in the past."


 "Then this is just another one," the newscaster interjected.


 "Not having seen the envoy in the flesh, not having had a chance to 
inspect the UFO itself I would say that anything is possible and err on the 
side of caution." Doctor Nelson conceded. "However what I find particularly 
fascinating, is that this information has been released by our government 
which is an unheard of revelation. The fact that something buzzed the space 
shuttle a few hours ago may have forced their hand. Also we have seen evidence 
that this craft travels at incredible speeds and has an ability to completely 
elude all of our airborne early warning systems."


 "You say you have information that the space shuttle intercepted this 
craft or one like it."


 "Hardly intercepted," Doctor Nelson laughed, "encountered and retreated 
might be a more apt explanation."


 "I think we have been supplied with footage of this encounter," the 



newsman commented tapping his earphone.


 "Yes, similar craft at least, somebody on the flight deck, look there, 
he's waving."


 Bruce looked nervously over at Raele who was enjoying the show and hoped 
that nobody recognised him.


 "What do you make of this information Doctor Nelson?"


 "Well it's really conjecture at the moment until enough of us have got a 
look at the alien envoy and his ship, if it ever returns," Doctor Nelson 
replied, not wanting to commit himself and become a laughing stock among his 
professional colleagues.


 "Thank you Doctor Nelson."


 "I'm only too happy to be of assistance."


 "We know cross to the White House live with Rudd Wass our senior 
political analyst."


 "Good evening Rudd I guess this must just about be the biggest story 
since, well ever?"


 "Yes Doug, and it's not just the story itself, but the way it is being 
handled over here. While we haven't had any hard information to speak of, 
which is perhaps understandable, we have been kept up to date since this story 
broke. Which to briefly recap is that an alien has landed and is talking with 
government officials."


 "Ah Rudd, I hear that President Mitchell has called for an immediate 
meeting of the UN General Assembly, why would this be?"


 "I think that even though the alien envoy, no lets call him the 
representative of another world, even though he landed here and was more or 
less taken into custody, protective or otherwise, by our government, his 
arrival is a global issue and that President Mitchell and America can't be 
seen to monopolise him. I guess they must also be aware that at the same time 
they by default are bound to protect him as well."


 "What do you mean by that Rudd?" This was something the newsroom team 
hadn't considered and Doug was a little perplexed, as were most of his 
audience.


 "Well Doug," Rudd began, stopping to choose his words carefully. "To some 
people this isn't simply about a visit to earth by the representative of 
another world, there are already insinuations by some religious groups that 
this representative heralds the arrival of armageddon, that he is indeed the 
devil and should be got rid of quickly. Exactly how this arrival should be 
handled and what might result are very tricky problems...."


 It was dawning guiltily on Bruce that he and Raele might have done a very 
silly thing. Maybe they should go and get him back, but then what would they 
do with them. He looked across at Sue who fixed him with an angry accusatory 
glare.


 ".......there are many many social, religious and other issues that might 
be potentially affected if the visit is handled without sensitivity."


 Rudd Wass evidently didn't understand the wider implications of a dazed 
Mitch's return to earth which didn't make Bruce feel any better. He could feel 
Sue's eyes boring into the back of his head and decided that he'd better deal 
with her before she said or did something that might implicate them in the 
breaking events. Trev was also giving him and Raele nervous sidelong glances.


 "Thanks Rudd, we'll come back to you later. Doug shifted his gaze to 
another camera. "We will now break for a few moments and will be back to recap 
on this fast breaking story and bring you more details as they come to hand." 
Doug faded away and was replaced by a score update on the baseball game the 
newsflash had interrupted which faded quickly away to an add for dishwashing 
liquid.


 The tension of the last few minutes broken, everyone seemed to take the 
opportunity to storm the bar in case this next drink was their last. Not that 
anybody seemed capable of coherent speech, it was like listening to somebody 
speaking tongues. Bruce couldn't decide whether they were apprehensive, 
intrigued or simply stunned. 



 As the add break broke back to the newsflash graphics Sue came up and 
dragged him out into the empty kitchen.


 "What the hell have you done Bruce?"


 "It was Raele's fault," Bruce insisted trying to shift the blame. "He 
said he'd be going back the same time he left, he must have miscalculated or 
something," he added helplessly.


 "I know you better than that, you thought it would be amusing to change 
the course of history didn't you? So now what are you going to do?"


 "I don't know," Bruce admitted ruefully, wishing he could just sneak away 
and hide.


 "Maybe we could just sneak over and get him back, send him and Raele away 
again," Bruce suggested grasping for straws.


 "Don't you think you've done enough damage?"


 "Probably, " Bruce said with a grin, but it can't be all bad can it? 
Those blokes on tele and in the White House think Mitch is the greatest thing 
since sliced bread."


 "But he's going to address the United Nations," Sue said as if that in 
itself was important.


 "So, he'll get up there, make a pretty little speech about working 
together and moving forward together which nobody will believe or understand 
and everyone will be happy ever after."


 "I hope you're right Bruce, I hope you're right."


 twenty six


 In the event, Mitch's address to the United Nations was delayed, then 
postponed and then finally set for the date that Bruce and Sue had decided to 
get married on.


 The powers that be obviously didn't know how to deal with Mitch. He had 
no special powers, couldn't turn water into wine and didn't seem to have the 
support of a large fleet of space ships floating around just out of reach. He 
was on his own and various groups were comparing Mitch with the unfortunate 
Rudolf Hess, although there was strong evidence to support the theory that he 
had been left on earth rather than come of his own volition.


 The alien Mitch was a source of interest and wonder for he was an exact 
replica of the real President Mitchell. While he had his genes and mannerisms, 
he also showed that he didn't quite have his brain. For the alien Mitch could 
barely repeat a word coherently let alone a sentence that, though he did 
preach a message at every opportunity which could not be ignored. He was like 
a preprogrammed clone of the President struggling to fufil it's destiny. He 
also believed that he was the President of the United States of America and 
great care was taken to keep him safely under wraps in case he got out and 
created confusion and disorder in the Presidents name.


 His very presence lent credence to the fact that humans weren't alone as 
sentient beings in the universe and the manner of his appearance led those in 
power to suddenly realise that all powerful as they might think they were, 
there were more powerful forces in at work in the universe. This was the most 
frightening aspect of Mitch's presence, the alien in question was a quite 
inoffensive sort himself, it was what he represented that was the problem.


 How would his masters react if he wasn't treated well, properly? What 
would they say if he wasn't given the chance to speak at the only global forum 
that most governments recognised?


 Despite their better judgement the date was set when Mitch would address 
the world and communicate the full extent of his purpose for being on the 
planet in the first place, as if his leaked statements hadn't said enough 
already to send the world into a spin.


 But there were other important events taking precedence, not the least 
the long awaited marriage of Bruce and Sue and an international cricket match 



or two.


 "I'm getting married mum," Bruce broke the news over the phone.


 "Are you home dear? This line is so clear that you could be down at the 
pub."


 "No mum, I'm still in America, I just rang to tell you I'm getting 
married and to ask you both to come to the wedding."


 "That's nice dear, but I don't think we can....." The impact of what 
Bruce was saying finally filtered through.


 "You're what?!"


 Bruce sighed and wished he was talking to his father, his mother was so 
thick at times.


 "I'm getting married mum."


 "I hope she's a nice girl Bruce, I don't really fancy you marrying a 
foreigner, those sort of marriages never work."


 "She's a nice woman mum," Bruce said trying to put her mind at rest 
wondering what her reaction would be when she found that Sue's parents were as 
black as the ace of spades and as if that wasn't enough so different otherwise 
that they might as well be from a different world.


 "Cyril!" Bruce heard his mother call as a door slammed somewhere, "Bruce 
is getting married."


 Bruce heard his father's heavy footsteps pad closer and then he was on 
the other end of the phone.


 "What's this son?" Cyril asked.


 "I'm getting married dad, we want to know how soon you two can get here 
so we can set the date."


 "I dunno about that son, there's a lot of work to do about the farm, I 
can't just up and leave."


 "Yes you can dad, it's the middle of bloody winter," Bruce said becoming 
a little exasperated. He'd never hear the end of it if he didn't make sure 
they were at the wedding and here was the old bugger saying they didn't want 
to come.


 "Rangi won't mind looking after the farm for a couple weeks and anything 
else can wait till I get back."


 And so after much wheedling and little talks between Sue and Bruce's 
mother and Cyril and Sue's mother and father a date was finally set.


 Bruce stood nervously close by the arrivals gate, silently contemplating 
the large screen television that was showing footage of Mitch and himself 
talking to each other, walking in the grounds of some large house screened by 
worried looking security agents. Talking in an informal setting in some room, 
standing at a lectern together. That must be the address to congress, Bruce 
thought. A preliminary to his speech at the General Assembly of the United 
Nations.


 There were plenty of pictures but not much in a spoken sense from Mitch. 
Like the old adage, he was to be seen and not heard. Bruce didn't blame 
whoever was stage managing the whole affair one bit, though he wondered how 
they were going to manage the upcoming speech to the United Nations. Perhaps 
they could get the real president to give the speech and Mitch could just sit 
there keeping quiet and looking intelligent.


 "Flight TE 3402 is now disembarking at gate one."


 "Bruce looked up to make sure he was standing by the right gate and 
relaxed, they would be ages getting through customs and grabbing their 
baggage.


 Fidgeting nervously Bruce wished he could have a smoke, but even he could 
see the no smoking signs plastered around everywhere.


 "Bruce! Over here." Bruce swung around and saw his mother approaching him 
with her arms stretched wide. His father followed at a discreet distance 
manfully pushing a laden luggage trolley.


 Bruce deftly avoided his mother's embrace, though he did allow her to 
peck his cheek and solemnly shook his father's hand.


 "Hi," he said, noticing the way his mother looking around suspiciously. 



 "Where is she," she demanded.


 "Who?"


 "Your fiance of course, I thought she might be her, I'm dying to meet her 
of course," she added.


 I bet you are Bruce thought. "Sue and her olds are waiting at her place, 
they kinda thought I'd like to meet you alone." Bruce still hadn't let on that 
Sue was black, well dark and they had a kid between them. He had thought that 
the airport or the trip back to the house might give him the opportunity but 
his mother dominated the conversation bringing him up to date on all the local 
gossip and anything else she could think of. She was obviously nervous because 
she couldn't keep her mouth shut.


 Bruce made the obligatory enquiry about the farm.


 "It's ok," was his father's simple reply. If he was nervous he wasn't 
showing it. But he must be because he'd never travelled away more than fifty 
miles from the farm in his life, except for the odd rugby trip away with his 
mates when he was a young man. What an education this must be for him Bruce 
thought.


 "Well here we are," he said pulling into Sue's driveway, noting another 
car beside her parent's. Who's this he wondered? He caught a glimpse of Mrs 
Pratt, the nosy old bat from next door peeking out her window.


 "This is Sue's place," Bruce announced. "You can meet everyone and then 
I'll take you down the road to where you're going to stay."


 "Ok son." Bruce thought his father sounded knackered, his mother probably 
was, though she wasn't saying. She wasn't saying anything. Bruce looked across 
at her and saw how her face had gone completely white and her that her jaw had 
dropped open as if she had seen a ghost.


 "Oh Bruce, how could you?" She asked in a sad defeated voice.


 "Whaddaya mean?" Bruce demanded and then followed her gaze. Sue was 
approaching the car and her parents were standing apprehensively on the 
doorstep.


 "Oh that, well I meant to tell you," he said, "but I just couldn't find 
the right time."


 "What's wrong Mavis?" The long suffering Cyril asked.


 "She's black," Mavis whispered just loud enough for Sue to hear.


 Sue hesitated and then came on.


 "Did you have to say that?" Cyril hissed, exasperated that his wife of 
many years could continue to surprise and embarrass him with her 
insensitivity.


 "Hello Mrs Harwood," Sue said nervously through the window as Bruce got 
out of the car.


 "Hello," Mavis replied sullenly, still shocked at the colour of the woman 
her son had decided to marry, ignoring Sue's offer of assistance to get out of 
the car.


 Cyril Harwood climbed out of the car stiffly, now totally disgusted with 
his wife. Their son was finally getting married and she was already showing 
her disapproval at his choice and she'd hardly met the girl.


 "Mr Harwood?"


 "Call me Cyril, most people do," he replied ignoring the hand Sue 
extended to be shaken and giving her an awkward hug instead. Cyril Harwood 
wasn't a man given to displays of emotion as his only son would attest to, but 
he knew he had to do something to make up for his wife's outright rudeness.


 "Come on mum," Bruce said wearily, just as he'd feared, his mother 
wouldn't take to Sue or her parents "lets go and met Sue's olds."


 "You two go along, I'll wait here." And hurry up she didn't snap, Mavis 
felt tired, she wanted to use the toilet and felt completely let down by her 
son. She'd show her disapproval by waiting in the car and ignoring Sue and 
everyone else. She knew she was being slightly irrational, no matter how much 
she disapproved the wedding would still go on and that woman would end up 
sharing her home.


 The two men looked at each other, shrugged their shoulders and rolled 



their eyes at Sue as if to say: "well we're not going to let her worry us are 
we?"


 Sue thought she was looking at two images of the same person when Bruce 
and his father looked at her, she couldn't get over how alike they looked.


 Cyril Harwood was a tall strong silent looking man, who radiated strength 
and competence, the same qualities she saw in Bruce, though the father seemed 
more even tempered and tolerant than the son. She was put out, if not offended 
by Bruce's mothers' attitude, even though Bruce had told her what to expect. 
And there was still the biggy to come. Little Bruce was inside crawling around 
his playpen like a caged animal, already exhibiting the same sort of raw 
energy that Bruce did when he got motivated.


 Like his son before him, Cyril Harwood couldn't get over how black Sue's 
parent's were. Sue herself wasn't what he would call black, but her parent's 
were so black that they looked almost purple. He had to struggle to prevent 
himself reaching out and touching their skin just to see what it felt like.


 "Giddae," he said shaking Sue's father's hand and then her mothers. Then 
he repeated himself inside where the rest of the family waited.


 "Have a good trip?" John Clarke asked.


 "Yeah, thanks John, a bit longer than I thought. I guess you'll get to 
know it when you come and visit us."


 "Eh?" John Clarke asked a taken aback.


 "Well I guess Bruce and Sue are coming back to NZ aren't they?"


 "I don't really know," it was clearly something the Clarke's hadn't 
considered.


 "Cup of tea?" Sue asked hastily.


 "Thanks," Cyril replied suspiciously, wondering whether Sue could make a 
decent cup of tea, didn't americans drink coffee mostly? Cyril caught sight of 
little Bruce prowling around his playpen, eying him. Cyril felt his heart 
thump as he realised how much like Bruce the toddler was at the same age.


 Holy shit! He thought. Mavis is really going to throw a wobbly over this 
one!


 "There's something else I didn't tell you dad," Bruce said catching the 
direction of his fathers gaze.


 "Well I'm pleased you didn't tell your mother, but I guess she'll get 
used to the idea, eventually," he said grinning as he lifted the toddler out 
of the pen and dangled him on his knee.


 Cyril's obvious pride in his grandson eased the tension of the meeting 
and Mavis was forgotten as she squirmed uncomfortably in the car seat waiting 
for the menfolk to return and take her away from the scene that she found so 
humiliating and distasteful.


 Doubly distasteful as eventually unable to contain herself she had to 
swallow her pride and join the happy party inside to use the toilet.


 Mavis's hesitant knock on the door went unanswered so she pushed on the 
door and tried to work out where the toilet might be so she could sneak in 
without anybody noticing.


 "You can't keep on calling him little Bruce," she heard her husband say 
as she peered around. Little Bruce she thought?"


 "We're not going to call him Cyril if that's what you mean," Bruce 
laughed.


 "What about Bruce junior?"


 "What about Bruce junior?" Mavis recognised the taunting retort of her 
son.


 "Bruce!" She heard another voice warn him.


 "I guess we'll have to sort something out before the wedding, cos Sue's 
wanting to get the little critter baptised at the same time."


 "Aggggggggh," Mavis screamed just working out what the others were 
talking about, "agggggh," she screamed again and felt her legs giving away and 
a black shutter seemed to drop over her eyes.


 Mavis found herself having a nice little dream about swimming, which 
quickly took a more sinister turn when she caught sight of a large shark 



tracking her across the sand as she somehow swum up the beach. ' Agghh,' she 
heard herself scream as she fell into a puddle as the shark caught her by the 
fooot in it's massive jaws.


 "Are you ok?" She heard a voice say from close by. Mavis flicked open her 
eyes and found several faces frowning, worried looking faces looking down at 
her.


 "I must have fainted," Mavis whispered, at the same time realising much 
to her embarrassment that she wouldn't need to find the toilet.


 "Shall I call the doctor?" A voice asked from out of sight.


 "No, I'll be ok in a minute," Mavis insisted hoping that if she stayed 
put the embarrassing puddle would dry up quickly. But no, to her 
mortification, somebody was already busy with a cloth down by her bum.


 The day was off to an auspicious start.


 twenty seven


 Despite herself Mavis found she couldn't keep the tears out of her eyes 
as she watched her son and his chosen one exchange their wedding vows. She had 
always hoped that Bruce would one day settle down and find himself a nice girl 
to marry. They would have a great big wedding, all her friends and family, 
hers and Cyril's would turn out and the day would as much be their's as the 
young couples.


 The celebration in a building that didn't even look like a church among 
people she didn't even know wasn't what she imagined, just as Sue wasn't the 
bride she'd always imagined. Mavis expected she'd get used to it in time. She 
didn't even know Bruce's best man, although Bruce had said something about him 
being the brother of somebody he knew. Besides making Trev best man meant that 
he was forced to give them a cut price deal on the reception which would be 
held in his poky little restaurant.


 As for the other tall pale man Mavis didn't know what to think. He didn't 
seem to come from anywhere or do anything and was in most respects quite the 
oddest person Mavis had ever met. Bruce had ever been too choosy about his 
friends.


 "You may now kiss the bride," she heard the black minister say, marking 
the end of the service that had been more like a rock concert with all the 
singing and clapping and loud yells from the pulpit than the sort of service 
she was used to. Cyril, never a noted church goer had even started singing 
along at one stage and she'd had to kick him to stop him making a fool of 
himself.


 At least there wouldn't be much booze flowing at the reception, Sue's 
parents were strict teetotallers, as were most of the guests. That would 
decrease the chance of both the men making complete fools of themselves, 
though Bruce looked a little the worse for wear this morning.


 Mavis followed the happy couple outside, carefully avoiding everyone, 
especially the minister and snapped a quick photo, before wandering off to the 
rental car to wait for Cyril.


 The crowd quickly broke up and drifted away once Bruce and Sue 
disappeared with Raele in the bridal limousine. Trev should have been in the 
limo as well but whether by luck or design he was left behind.


 He must be off to organise the reception Mavis thought until he came over 
to where she was waiting and asked for a ride.


 "They just went off and left me," he muttered unhappily, wondering why 
Bruce slammed the door in his face.


 "What is this place?" Raele asked for the umpteenth time. He couldn't 
understand how the United Nations worked like a government but was virtually 
powerless at the same time. It seemed a singularly stupid idea to Raele to 
have two governments, one for individual states or nations and one global but 
useless one. Why not just have one. Skid just had one and whether or not the 
right decisions were made it had mostly worked effectively. 



 If the United Nations was so impotent why had Mitch chosen to speak at 
it's general assembly? The humans were so confusing a times and he was glad 
that he had his patrol craft so he could get away whenever he ever needed to.


 Mitch was a diminutive figure in the vast hall but his words seemed to 
carry easily to where they sat in the limousine which was another wonder to 
Raele, how did they do that? On Skid a speaker had to almost scream to make 
himself heard over the hubbub of noise that usually accompanied parliamentary 
sittings. Mitch was speaking normally.


 "He sounds almost normal," said Bruce as he listened to Mitch's opening 
remarks, which were little more than the usual platitudes about what an honour 
it was to speak to the Assembly and to thank them for giving him an 
opportunity to speak.


 "Shhhh," Sue hissed, taking the precaution of sliding the window closed 
between themselves and the chauffeur. "And don't drink so much either, she 
said admonishing Bruce who was making inroads into the complementary 
champagne. "You know my parents don't hold with drinking, do you want to 
embarrass them in front of their minister?"


 "Cheer's," Bruce replied jovially rasing his glass, but he had his eyes 
and ears glued to the screen.


 "As you know I am an emissary from the Planet Skid, sent to make contact 
with the leaders of this planet in order to facilitate closer relations 
between our two civilisations," Mitch read from the teleprompter, squarely 
staring his audience of billions in the face and sending shivers of wonder and 
fear up the spines of those billions as they heard proof that they were no 
longer alone in the universe. What did that mean?


 "We have been watching this planet for aeons, since your ancestors 
climbed out of the primordial soup and developed into the primates that roamed 
the forests and plains. We watched as your ancestors began to spread across 
the world and slowly learnt the process of building a society, developing 
agriculture and warring among yourselves." Mitch paused for a moment, frowning 
in disapproval while people squirmed uneasily in their seats. It wasn't a nice 
feeling to realise your every move had been followed and your foibles revealed 
for what they were.


 "We did not consider intervening in your wars or other tragedies for we 
had our own to deal with, we didn't intervene to show you a better way, that 
the domineering, exploitative systems of government and business that you 
developed had no place in a sophisticated civilisation because from our own 
experience we knew that would develop over time. Or we thought they would," 
Mitch added somewhat ominously, chastising the immature teen for not acting 
more like an adult.


 "If my own treatment on this planet is indicative of the way this world 
operates then I think you have a lot to learn about government and the 
responsibilities of government," Mitch raised his voice as if he was 
chastising a child and wagged his finger at the increasingly uncomfortable 
audience as if they realised that their collective sins might be visited on 
them.


 But at the same time many of them weren't happy with what they were 
hearing, what right did this alien have to criticise them and their way of 
life? He was getting close to openly criticising, making blasphemous remarks 
about the major world religions, he didn't refrain from his criticisms of some 
of the worlds most revered and cherished institutions.


 "He's waffling," Bruce said. He could tell from the shots that panned the 
vast chamber that people were becoming unhappy, restlessly moving in their 
seats and murmuring angrily to colleagues, advisors and enemies alike. "He's 
dangerous and still nuts," Bruce added as Mitch's voice rose to a high pitched 
crescendo and dropped again.


 "I see abject poverty on the streets of the planet's richest nations, I 
see large and powerful conglomerates exploiting the weak and powerless, I see 
greedy politicians, I see religious zealots fighting and killing for the sake 
of killing, I see people wilfully poisoning their environments, I see......" 



 "He's dangerous, somebody will kill him for sure."


 "And it's all your fault, now shutup," Sue insisted leaning closer to the 
little screen set into the compartment in front of them.


 Bruce guiltily swallowed, it wasn't quite true, he also couldn't 
understand why he wasn't recognised for the lunatic he was. Though Bruce had 
to admit that Mitch sounded lucid enough.


 "I am here to tell you that I have been empowered by the government of 
Skid to act as their representative on this planet and to act as I see fit."


 "Christ, Sue breathed," he's loony."


 "You're telling me, what do you think Raele?"


 But Raele didn't answer, he wasn't even listening to what Mitch had to 
say, though he stared intently at the small screen.


 "I have been empowered by my government, with the assistance of a fleet 
of patrol craft to act as I see fit in order to facilitate the economic and 
social development of this planet. To this end I will shortly be announcing 
plans for the equitable sharing of wealth and resources..."


 "Raele?"


 "... the introduction of Skidian technology and the arrival of advisors 
to implement these changes."


 Raele couldn't believe his eyes, there not ten metres away from the 
podium where Mitch stood making his pronouncements stood one of his brothers 
who had been exiled from Skid many years ago.


 As the assembly erupted into uproar, with members standing and shaking 
their fists, beginning to fight among themselves or simply sit around bemused 
by the pronouncements of the alien, whatever security arrangements were in 
position quickly became overwhelmed trying to break up fights and hustle Mitch 
away from the situation that had rapidly become untenable.


 "My brother," Raele muttered unintelligibly, his eyes rivetted to the 
screen trying to catch a glimpse of his brother as the camera panned wildly 
around trying to capture the scene as it fell into chaos.


 "Your brother?" Bruce asked stunned to discover that Raele had a brother 
on earth.


 "There," Raele pointed to the screen.


 "But that's not you brother, that's Arnold Rumbold," said Sue naming an 
immensely popular basketball player who had somehow insinuated himself into 
the assembly and then recognised an uncanny resemblance to Raele.


 "My brother," Raele repeated watching a flash of light leap from his 
brother's arm.


 "Oh my god," Sue sobbed,hiding her face in Bruce's shoulder, "what have 
we done?" She asked as civil defense warning notice suddenly appeared on the 
screen telling people to remain calm and in their homes.


 to be continued......