**** **** **** ****

  On the same planet, in a desolate barren wasteland of a desert, a golden orb about the size of a beach ball floated with its nightlight eye open, paving a route through cactuses and up to a cavern entrance. After a quick physical scout of the vicinity, it whirred silently into the archway opening following walls lit up in a reddish orange by torches, leading down into a darkened hole. When it reached the bottom, it came to a number of empty holding cells. Peeking round a corner, a familiar voice registered on its hard drive. It instantly recognised it as the pitch and frequency belonging to the earthman Elwood Makepeace.

  With its target acquired, it waited for the appropriate moment to spring into action, and right then, sensing danger, it froze and dimmed itself against the wall as a slithering snail turd-like guard approached with a modified pitchfork walking directly past its position, coughing and spluttering curse words. The guard walked over to Elwood's holding cell and the earthman rose from his bed, rubbing his eyes and yawning. The guard broke the silence.

  "So...tell me. How did a Brit like you manage to make it this far away from your own planet?"

  "I'm not entirely sure. One moment I was enjoying a tour of St. Paul's Cathedral. I was walking up the spiral steps that lead to the top of the dome, thinking how nice it was to escape the grim city I come from, even if it was just for a weekend. I started to wonder if I could afford to move to the capital and become a successful writer, when all of a sudden I got caught in what appeared to be a beam of sunlight pouring in through the roof. The next thing I knew, I was standing inside a room full of electrics, meters and discarded underwear. I had been collected by a spaceship. This was a long time ago."

  "You are a highly prized piece of cargo, Brit. A very rare specimen. How do you feel about being one of the first from your planet to achieve space travel?"

  "I'm more annoyed about not getting my money's worth from the tour. I miss my cat and my way of life. I'm not accustomed to travelling great distances."

  "Most Brits aren't. Our race was heavily influenced by your language and culture. Your planet isn't the only one where your race spread over the surface, incited wars and invaded large areas of peaceful land over a short period of time."

  "Did we give you tea?"

  "And crumpets. I hate crumpets."

  "I'm sorry. I don't even know what a crumpet is. It looks like a punctured muffin."

  "There's something that has played on my mind ever since I was young. What is the purpose of a baked potato?"

  "Well...it's -"

  A giant horn sounded off and the whole cavern shook. Swathes of pebbles fell from overhead and coated the guard in a thin film of rubble.

  "The end of my shift. I have to go back home now, see my wife, speak to the kids. Phone my parents. Sorry about the execution tomorrow. Good luck."

  "Thanks."

  The guard meandered off in the direction of his superior, hidden somewhere amongst the vastness of jagged rock and unfamiliar cave surroundings. As he disappeared from view, the golden ball reactivated and revealed itself from behind a pointed rock. It went to Elwood's cell and bleeped into action, scanning a section of the gridded cell. Elwood jolted when he smelled burning and saw the droid melting the iron with a fierce intense beam concentrated on a minute area. The grid fell apart, enabling Elwood to sneak out. The droid bleeped in various tones.

  "You took your time, Bink! Where are the others?"

  "--o-o-z--!-o"

  "What a mess. I want to go home."

  Elwood followed Bink as it switched on its tracking light to reveal the way it had come. Elwood trudged through the sand on the steep trek to the surface, standing in the cavern archway and experiencing the brief bliss of an evening blustering wind. He saw a glowing red orange sunset that was quickly eclipsed by the swooping arrival of a ship.

  "--e---e--o--i-!--o--!"

  "I agree. Never leave that giant malfunctioning dumb bot in the pilot seat."

  The ramp reluctantly dropped in rusted stages. 234 stood there to usher the two aboard The Chromium Bullet.