Colonel Katterfelto took a last look at the Earth through the open doorway. ‘Van Allen’s Belt and braces,’ puffed the colonel. ‘The bally Crystal Palace is ablaze. Folk in their thousands running down the hill.’

  Exactly why the sounds of all this had failed to reach the spacecraft before now was open to conjecture. Some form of acoustic anomaly, perhaps, or the direction of the prevailing wind. Or a careless oversight, who could possibly say?

  Darwin the monkey bounced up and down. Fire was fun, at a distance.

  ‘Best offer assistance,’ puffed the colonel. ‘Put the launch on hold for now. Women and children first.’

  ‘Canst not be done,’ declared the corporal, buckling up his safety belt. ‘The automatic pilot hath been engaged. And verily the ship will rise into the heavens in but seconds now.’

  Colonel Katterfelto, not a man to dither, dithered.

  Then cried, ‘Bless my soul.’

  For approaching at considerable speed and apparently pursued by most of the Metropolitan Police Force was a single hansom cab.

  Colonel Katterfelto squinted. ‘It’s that Balls chap,’ said he.

  Darwin the monkey gibbered and pointed.

  ‘Yes, my dear fellow, I see her, too. It’s young Alice in the cab. Unconscious, by the looks.’

  ‘Closeth the door,’ demanded the corporal, growing somewhat frantic. ‘If thou dost not close it, yea we shall be suckéd through it upon take-off’

  Colonel Katterfelto put his hands to the door, but did not swing it shut.

  ‘Stop, hold hard,’ cried Cameron Bell, drawing the hansom to a halt.

  ‘Sorry, old chap,’ called the colonel. ‘We have to be off I’m afraid.’

  Darwin bit the colonel on the leg. Darwin the monkey still had a thing about Alice.

  ‘Yes, you’re right, my dear fellow. Go on, hurry, help him.’

  Darwin skittered down the gangway and helped Cameron Bell in lifting Alice down from the hansom cab.

  The driver took to cowering. As bobbies in range took to blasting away with their ray guns.

  Up the gangway went Cameron Bell, with Alice over one shoulder.

  Darwin did what Darwin did: dropped his trousers, produced and flung dung towards the advancing policemen.

  ‘Inside, quickly now,’ called the colonel.

  Cameron Bell, carrying Alice, entered the spaceship, and Darwin, too. The colonel slammed shut the door.

  Ray-gun fire without disintegrated the gangway.

  Within the spaceship came a shuddering.

  Followed by a great roar of engines.

  The Marie Lloyd rose up from the spaceport.

  And made off into the sky.

  31

  ut into space went the Marie Lloyd, leaving the Earth behind.

  Darwin clung to the colonel’s leg. The colonel peeped out through a porthole.

  ‘Always a stirring sight,’ said he. ‘Forgotten how much I love this kind of business.’

  Corporal Larkspur was out of his seat now. ‘What hast thou done?’ he asked.

  ‘Done?’ said the colonel. ‘Done? Helped a fellow in distress. A lady too, doncha know.’

  The fellow in distress lay upon the floor in a somewhat sweaty heap. The lady had been safety-belted into the colonel’s seat.

  Darwin the monkey said, ‘I should be flying this ship.’

  ‘Thy nephew canst not fly the ship,’ Corporal larkspur ‘told the colonel. ‘It is automatically set, it needeth no pilot whatever.’

  Darwin considered biting the corporal; his ‘uncle’ sensing that this might just be the case, advised against it. ‘Bit early in the hunt for that kind of stuff,’ he said. ‘Best all pull together as a team.’

  The Jovian hunting party snored in their seats. They had downed soporifics and nodded off just prior’ to take-off. They would be out for hours. Not so, however, a certain private detective.

  Cameron Bell made a groaning ascent into the vertical plane. He was now severely space-sick. He needed the toilet.

  ‘That way,’ directed the colonel. ‘And if you are going to chuck-up, follow the instructions carefully. Gravity be shutting off in a moment. Could get rather nasty in there.’

  Cameron Bell made off in haste towards the bathroom.

  There was not much in Mr Bell’s stomach, but what little there was he hurled into the Thomas Crapper. Flushed and washed his hands and face, then found himself wonderfully floating. It was unlike anything he had ever experienced before, except within the world of his dreams. And he was not dreaming now.

  Alice awoke with a sudden start and glanced around fearfully. She gazed towards a porthole and saw what lay beyond.

  ‘Oh not again,’ said Alice. ‘I am once more away with the fairies.’

  Colonel Katterfelto smiled down upon her. His feet were not touching the spaceship’s floor.

  ‘I want to go home at once,’ said Alice. ‘I want my kiwi birds.’

  But then the memories of what had gone before came rushing into her head. ‘That monster,’ she cried. ‘That monster.’

  ‘You are quite safe now,’ said the colonel, floating over her head. ‘That Balls chap brought you aboard the spaceship.’

  ‘Aboard the spaceship?’ Alice stiffened. ‘Am I really here?’

  ‘Really here, my dear. Like to drop you off. But not possible, I’m afraid. Automatic pilot and all that kind of gubbinry.’

  Cameron Bell returned from the bathroom. Somewhat pale of face, but not without a certain chipperness. He bobbed along the ceiling, propelling himself with breaststroke motions. ‘What larks,’ he cried, and, ‘Alice, are you well?’

  Alice Lovell felt at her throat. ‘Did you save my life?’ she asked.

  ‘Well,’ said Cameron, thinking of the kiwi birds, ‘you might say that—’

  ‘Thank you,’ said Alice. ‘You are a wonderful man.’

  ‘Only doing what any gentleman would.’ Cameron Bell performed am aerial head-over-heels and said, ‘You really should join me up here, Alice. If you do not feel unwell.’

  ‘Thou must come down,’ said Corporal Larkspur. ‘We must discusseth the matter of your fares. Thou hast pushed thyself aboard a most exclusive big-game hunting trip. Thou canst not travel for nowt.’

  Cameron Bell steered himself down. Steered himself into the corporal’s seat and strapped himself in with the safety belt.

  ‘Perhaps you might drop us off in Africa,’ said he. ‘I certainly cannot return to London for the moment. Neither would it be safe for Alice to do so. Her life would be in jeopardy.’

  ‘Would it?’ said Alice. ‘What have I done?’

  ‘The creature cannot let you live,’ said Cameron Bell. ‘I am so sorry that you became involved in this.’

  Alice glanced wistfully once more out of the porthole. ‘It was preordained,’ said she. ‘I have visions, you see.

  ‘Ah,’ said Cameron. ‘Visions? I thought it might be something of the kind.’

  ‘I had a vision of being on a spaceship. And here I am.’

  ‘Indeed. So, would Africa be all right for you? Or would you prefer Australia?’

  ‘Thou talkest the toot,’ said the Jovian corporal. ‘The controls are preset. We continueth upon our voyage. Thou canst not be returned unto the Earth.’

  ‘Well well well,’ said Cameron Bell, and then he smiled most hugely. ‘That suits me rather well, as it happens. There would be far too much explaining to do to Commander Case. And what with the danger to Alice and all, a week or two of big-game hunting on Mars would be a most bracing and refreshing experience.’

  Corporal Larkspur mumbled and grumbled.

  ‘Not Mars,’ the colonel piped up. ‘Venus, actually.’

  ‘Venus?’ said Cameron Bell. ‘You have acquired special visas to land upon Venus?’

  ‘Not as such,’ puffed the colonel. ‘Not as such, old chap.’

  ‘Well now,’ said the private detective. ‘Not so much a hunting party, more a gang of poachers.’
r />   ‘A most exclusive big-game hunting trip.’ Corporal Larkspur, secured to the floor by magnetised boots, stalked heavily away upon these towards his cabin.

  ‘Word of advice,’ said the colonel to the private detective. ‘Word to the wise and all that. Never get a chap’s dander up on a hunting trip. One can get accidentally shot up the bum parts. Catch my drift?’ He tapped away at his nose.

  ‘Point well taken,’ said Cameron Bell. ‘My thanks. But tell me, who is the brains behind this most illegal hunting trip?’

  ‘Jovian chap you just spoke with,’ said the colonel.

  But Cameron Bell shook his head. ‘My observations of that gentleman inform me that he is merely a link in the chain, as it were. The man behind this trip is a resident of Earth. He is not aboard this ship.’

  ‘No idea how you reasoned that out,’ said the colonel.

  ‘But you know your own business best. Larkspur fellow paying me. That is all I know.’

  ‘Interesting,’ said the private detective.

  ‘Would someone please pay some attention to me?’ said Alice. ‘I would like a cup of tea. Or better, a gin and tonic.’

  The Marie Lloyd pressed on through the aether of space. An unappealing hulk of riveted metal, the product of a Martian armaments factory built solely for service with little aesthetics attached. Five thousand miles out from Earth an automated system kicked in and it began to revolve slowly, creating its own artificial gravity. At length the Jovian hunters awoke, surprised to discover Alice and Cameron amongst them. Found themselves amused by their presence, then suggested they all repair to the bar. Corporal Larkspur, now dressed as a barman, served with a practised ease.

  Alice Lovell sipped her gin and tonic. She sat at a table with Colonel Katterfelto, Darwin and Cameron Bell. The Jovians engaged in drinking games that involved laughter and falling over. Corporal Larkspur moped behind the bar.

  The ship flew on through space.

  ‘This is a very big adventure,’ said Alice. ‘I wonder what excitements there will be?’

  ‘You’d best be advised to remain on board, once we get there.’ Colonel Katterfelto downed Jovian rum. ‘Door locked. Blinds down. Better safe than sorry.’

  ‘Cameron will protect me,’ said Alice, and she fluttered her eyelashes at the private detective.

  Cameron Bell, somewhat drained by recent experiences, felt a frisson of excitement himself Was that amorous eyelash fluttering? he wondered. Did this beautiful woman have feelings for him?’

  Overwhelmed by the very thought, Cameron too sank Jovian rum and sought some other subject for discussion.

  Darwin ate noisily from a bag of salted peanuts. Colonel Katterfelto tousled his hairy head.

  ‘Herr Doktör,’ said Cameron Bell of a sudden. ‘But of course.’

  Colonel Katterfelto was startled by this. ‘You have read the book?’ he asked the detective. ‘You know about the Great Quest?’

  ‘I am referring to your “nephew”,’ said Cameron Bell. ‘I recall now reading of a certain Herr Doktör who claims that it is possible to teach apes to read and write and speak also. In order that they may take the necessary evolutionary step forward, which might otherwise go untrodden for another million years.

  Darwin the monkey continued with his peanuts. He had nothing to say.

  ‘Remarkable,’ said Cameron Bell. ‘And I would gather that his vocabulary is quite extensive.’

  ‘Why not ask him yourself?’ said the colonel.

  Alice looked intrigued.

  ‘It is an honour to meet you.’ Cameron Bell put out his hand towards Darwin. The ape regarded him with a quizzical expression and then shook the detective’s hand.

  ‘It is an honour to meet you, Mr Bell,’ said he. ‘We have met before, of course, but never been formally introduced.’

  ‘Most splendid,’ said Mr Cameron Bell. ‘Have you been taught to play chess?’

  Darwin shook his hairy head.

  ‘Would you care to have me teach you?’

  Darwin nodded his hairy head.

  ‘Then splendid once again. I spied a travellers’ chess set on the bar counter. I will fetch it and teach you how to play.’

  Alice Lovell made a face. She recalled certain experiences regarding chess pieces that she had been put through beyond the looking glass.

  ‘Will someone please pay me attention,’ she said.

  Time passed and routines were established. There were cabins available to all and no one had to share. Corporal Larkspur cooked and cleaned and served behind the bar.

  Darwin learned chess and soon proved a worthy opponent.

  Alice Lovell sulked for much of the time, whilst staring through a porthole.

  Cameron Bell, severely tongue-tied now in her presence, mostly said and did the wrong things and hated himself for so doing.

  On the fourth day out they sighted Venus.

  And on the fifth day they fell into orbit around her.

  32

  ueer as it might seem now, there was a time when astronomers and scientists of Earth actually believed that the planet Venus was an inhospitable horror of a place. Heated to intolerable temperatures, scorched by rains of sulphuric acid and with an atmosphere so poisonous as to spell death in every language or dialect thereof that existed.

  In this modern age of progress and of knowledge such nonsenses are easily put aside. Although it did have to be said that very few members of the human race had ever set foot upon Venus. A British Embassy had been set up there, but the British ambassador was forbidden to leave the compound. Certain explorers had made illegal landings, notably Major Thadeus Tinker the famous big-game hunter, but none had ever been seen again. Though how they came to their ends, if they did, remained so far uncertain.

  As the Marie Lloyd swung around upon its orbit, each porthole on the starboard side had a face peeping out from it. A green and splendid planet turned below. An emerald world that looked so much as paradise must look. The Jovian hunters cheered and chuckled, clinking their glasses together. The folk of Earth looked out in awe, each alone with their thoughts.

  Colonel Katterfelto thought about the Mechanical Messiah. Soon the Marie Lloyd would set down upon the beautiful planet and he would be able to avail himself of some Magoniam. The missing component. The special something that would enable him to imbue the mechanical marvel with life.

  But then what?

  As Cameron Bell viewed the gorgeous planet, his thoughts returned to the horrible doings at the Crystal Palace. The destruction of that wonderful building had been partially his fault. Although it was in a good cause. But what of the creature? What of I am become Death, the Destroyer of Worlds? Dead and gone, concluded Mr Bell. As a child, he had read many books of travel and adventure and he recalled one about New Zealand and the Maori people. These savage tribesmen had many cruel habits, but the cruellest of all was the one they meted out to captured enemy chieftains. Death by Kiwi Bird. As a child, Master Bell had shuddered at the details and well he remembered them now. Hopefully the creature had literally been consumed by Alice’s avian avengers. Certainly one or two of the birds would have perished in the conflict. But such are the casualties of war. So the baddy was gone and Cameron had time to think. His personal world had been brought to ruination. He was now a wanted man. Things had not gone as he might have hoped that they would.

  And he was also about to join an illegal landing party and add the breaking of interplanetary law to the charge sheet awaiting him upon Earth. He did not look forward to going back, but he knew that sometime he must.

  But then what?

  Alice Lovell had been thinking of her kiwi birds. She had not been worrying about them, however. Because she had no need to. Because had not that kind Cameron told her, when questioned as to the details of what had occurred after she fainted at the Crystal Palace, that the kiwi birds had all been safely rounded up and returned to the Sydenham pet shop to await her return? Such a thoughtful man, that Cameron Bell. But just what lay ahead? She w
as about to embark on a very great adventure, but it was not one that would add to her fame as it would have to remain a secret. She had topped the bill at the Crystal Palace. But only for moments. Would she ever be given a second chance? And what of the danger she was in from that monster which had attacked her? Cameron’s replies to her questions regarding this had all become a bit contradictory and confusing. But whatever happened on Venus, as long as she survived, she would eventually return to Earth.

  But then what?

  Darwin, the very first monkey in space, had enjoyed the voyage to Venus. He had enjoyed the learning and playing of chess and he greatly enjoyed the company of Mr Cameron Bell. The big question in Darwin’s mind, as he peered through a porthole towards the planet beneath, was, Do they have bananas upon Venus?

  Corporal Larkspur cast the briefest of glances towards the planet below. He was busily engaged in checking provisions and weaponry and tropical kit. Ticking away at a clipboard and whistling to himself, his thoughts were focused upon the success of the venture. Although his definition of the word success differed considerably from that of the Jovian hunters on board.

  At midday Earth time he called a meeting in the mess hall that all should attend. Dressed now in frill tropical kit with pith helmet and jungle goggles, he addressed his fellow space travellers.

  ‘Gentlemen and lady,’ he began, strutting as best a Jovian could, given the girth of his thighs. ‘Thou hast arrived safely unto the orbit of Venus. The journey hath been without incident. Although I hopéd that whoever blockéd the saloon bar toilet might have hadst the grace to umblocketh it.’

  There was much laughter at this from the Jovian hunters, but as they were always given to much laughter, it did not necessarily signal that it was in any way actually funny.

  ‘We shalt be landing,’ the corporal continued, ‘in an area of subtropical Venus knownst as Efland.’