Paul McCartney's Coat

  Paul McCartney’s Coat

  And Other Stories

  By

  Michael White

  Copyright 2011

  To Karen:

  For you.

  Always for you.

  Contents

  King of the Tyrant Lizards

  Paul McCartney’s Coat

  3ef476053

  Dear Diary

  An Inspector Calls

  How I Invented International Talk Like A

  Pirate Day by William (Aged 8¼)

  Squire Bidecombe’s Tree

  Dad Comes To Call

  The Cat is back!

  For Absent Friends

  King of the Tyrant Lizards

  The silver ship Baptistina dropped out of warp high above the planet Earth and automatically achieved orbit seconds later. This process was totally automated, but on the command deck of the ship the four people there were mostly busy running checks, then counter checks on all systems to make sure all was well. On the large view screen in front of them the planet revolved, filling the screen entirely, growing larger and larger as their descent began.

  “Engaging gravitational dampeners!” barked Glotis. His role of science officer was the most crucial at this stage of the journey. If the ship computer mis-calculated even by a fraction the descent to the planet could get very messy indeed. Sweat speckled his brow, a frown creasing his features through concentration. All four of them switched their view between their personal consoles and the view screen before them, as the planet grew in size.

  “Confirmed” responded Savarex, running a precautionary second check on their descent. This was not standard procedure and Glotis glanced at her out of the corner of his eye, clearly irritated and not making much of an attempt to hide it.

  Commander Trevix sat in his seat, his entire being screaming calm, his view set firmly on the view screen, studying the planet as the raw blue, brown and green slowly began to form clearer images before them..

  “Trajectory?” he enquired casually. Glotis ran a series of commands on his board without looking around to where the commander sat. “Confirmed Normal” he said. Trevix nodded almost to himself and turned to Savarex who was also running a series of commands.

  “Heat shields?” he enquired, almost politely. Savarex paused and switched to yet another sequence on her board. “All normal” she said, and returned to the original key sequence she was running.

  The command deck now had a noticeable tremor to it as gravity began to take hold of the ship during its descent. Trevix knew the gravitational dampeners would take care of the majority of this but nevertheless there was no such thing as either a quiet or a safe descent.

  “Computer” he enquired, “descent ETA?” The computer pinged and relayed the answer via the speakers concealed in the fascia of the command deck. The voice was calm, male and the response instantaneous. “ETA 45 minutes local time in line with current speed and heading.” Trevix nodded and studied the view screen once more.

  Savarex this time. “All systems running in compliance with safety requirements.” Glotis nodded solemnly, his twin antennae swaying in time with his movement. “Deceleration parameters correct.” Trevix stood from his chair, moving behind it and turning to face the view screen once more. “Excellent.” “well done all”

  “We’re not down yet” snarled Glotis through clenched teeth, the tension now more than apparent on his features. Savarex turned to Glotis and threw a glance at Trevix, but thought better of whatever she was about to say and turned back to her board, her fingers running lightly but rapidly across it. Numbers flew across the visual display in response.

  “I am aware of that, Glotis” announced Trevix, smiling. “Hold her steady old friend. I have every faith in you.”

  Glotis briefly smiled at this, and then continued to pull up screen after screen of data on his display. Savarex seemed to visibly relax. Trevix smiled and returned to his seat. Ahead of him the planet continued to grow, now only a large swirling mass of colours filling the large display. Turning slowly to the console to his right he noticed the fourth member of the crew who was obviously completely unaware that the commander was looking at him.

  “Colin” he said. “What are you doing?”

  Colin blushed a little, the colour flooding his cheeks. He would, unfortunately, never see the other side of twenty stone again, and the same statement would be equally true of the likelihood of him ever managing to catch a glimpse of his feet either. At the moment he was starting to glow as much as heat shield presumably was on the outside of the ship as it skipped into the atmosphere like a small stone skimmed across a pool of water. Trevix could not help but notice that at this moment in time Colin was almost visibly squirming. He would not be at all surprised if he started to suck his thumb.

  “Erm... dusting, commander” he almost whispered, and the squirming increased by about one hundred per cent.

  “Dusting” said Trevix and Glotis snorted loudly. Savarex turned to face him, then turned back to her board when she noticed the look on Trevix’s face.

  “Hold on the dusting right now, Colin” announced Trevix as if he was not in the slightest bit concerned about Colin’s attention to general ship housekeeping. Trevix noticed Colin carefully stow the duster under his console, presumably keeping it close to hand for later. “And how many times have I told you not to call me commander?” he stated, and then smiled. “Trevix. Just Trevix. We are not going to stand on ceremony here. Trevix will do.”

  “Thank you, Co... erm... Trevix” spluttered Colin “I am sorry - I just cannot keep still if I am nervous and the dusting takes my mind off it.”

  “You could always run a scan on the heat shield if you want to do something positive” snarled Glotis. “If you can find the time between bouts of fighting off all the damned dust in here, that is.”

  Colin turned to his board and started to run a few commands. Trevix returned to the view screen. The planet was noticeably larger now, wisps of clouds playing across the screen, the land mass below now quite clearly defined, the seas a bright blue. “What a beautiful world” thought Trevix, “So young and full of promise. If only I...”

  A sudden tremor reverberated through the ship. Suddenly sirens began to scream around the flight deck. What began as a tremor began to shake the ship. Trevix grabbed the arms of his seat to steady himself.

  Glotis spun and faced Colin, his face filled with rage. “What the fuck have you done, Colin?”

  Colin looked mortified and terrified at the same time. Subconsciously he reached for the duster.

  “I haven’t done anything, Glotis. Nothing at all!” Glotis spun back to his board as a massive tremor took hold once more. Everything slowed. The air seemed to ripple in front of Trevix’s face and he felt as if he was being torn apart, dispersed.

  Then nothing.

  Trevix slumped forward, gulping for breath. He saw his crew all doing the same. Staggering. Suddenly the sirens went silent. The ship continued to vibrate slightly as the descent continued, but that was all. “Stations!” he yelled, pulling his people together. Seeing they still looked dazed he yelled again, but this time louder. “Stations, people! I want to know what the fuck that was...and I want to know RIGHT NOW!”

  ***

  Flight AAL106 KJFK-EGLL was making good time and by now was half way through the flight. The journey so far, reflected Bob, was pretty much textbook perfect. They had passed the last way point an hour before and it was a little while until the next one some 200 miles off the west coast of Ireland. Since having departed JFK all had proceeded as normally as the other hundreds of times he had flown this route. The Boeing 787 coasted some 36,000 feet above the North Atlantic, making a decent headway of just under 500 knot
s. It had been lasagne for lunch, which was one of Bob’s favourites.

  Turning away from the automatic pilot readings he saw Rick making his way back to his seat, carrying a small plastic cup of tea in each hand for both of them. Rick had just finished his lunch. He had had fish; Bob knew as chief pilot and second in command could not eat the same food, as per airline regulations. They had tossed a coin for it and Bob had won. It was therefore fish for Rick. Luckily, he did not seem to mind.

  “Everything okay?” Enquired Rick and Bob nodded, carefully taking the plastic cup from him and placing it on the tray in front of him. “All A-OK” he nodded in reply, and Rick sat down next to him. “Your turn for the fish next time” Rick grinned, and Bob smiled too. They both sat in silence for a while, casually glancing at the automatic pilot read-out.

  It is an often overlooked fact that the level of sophistication of the automatic pilot systems on commercial airliners these days more or less makes the pilot redundant. Theoretically, the automatic pilot could take off, fly the correct flight path and then land again at the other end With no human intervention at all. Airline regulations, of course prevented this. Nevertheless, pilots on long haul flights are generally speaking custodians of the automatic pilot system. This leads to an awful lot of small talk, card games most definitely being allowed in the cockpit, and I-spy not being much of an alternative either.

  Bob looked down at his cup prior to taking a sip, but as he looked down he noticed a small ripple in the tea. The ripple grew in size, and started to slosh against the side of the cup. Bob stared down at it in surprise. As he did so a huge bump rattled the entire craft. In retrospect, Bob thought it felt almost as if the plane had driven over a bump whilst going too fast. The plane suddenly began to rattle a little, and then shake. As soon as it started however, it stopped. Rick looked at Bob, and the word turbulence seemed almost to form in the air between them. This was followed by a large unspoken question mark. Rick noticed however that this quickly driven from Bob’s face as he turned to stare out of the side cockpit window. Rick slowly tuned to see what he was looking at. At which point he was struck as dumb as Bob too, for running on a parallel course just offside of the port side of the plane a large silver ship that resembled a huge metal flying toad had suddenly appeared flying alongside them.

  “You see that, Bob?” asked Rick in a somewhat high voice.

  “I see it” said Bob, gulping.

  “Are you sure that you did not have the fish, Bob?” Rick asked in a slightly more panic filled voice.

  Galactipedia Entry last modified 3ef476053

  Quantillian - ref: Quantillians.

  A humanoid race of bounty hunters from the planet Quantavax, the Quantillians are renowned throughout the known galaxy as being highly efficient in the execution of their duties. What must never be misunderstood however is the application of the term bounty hunter to a member of the Quantillian race. Traditionally, the term brings to mind the role of the bounty hunter as a person or persons who hunt any transgressor of a legal system and return them alive (or sometimes dead) to face justice.

  Nothing could be further from the truth with the Quantillians, to whom such a system is morally reprehensible, or referred to by members of the race as, “Vexial”. The bounty the Quantillians specialise in is generally regarded to be nearer the term of Archaeologist, or possibly that of antiquarian. Almost exclusively employed by the citizens of Vantax five (colloquially known as “Museum World” (see separate citation) )) to procure and hunt down specimens and artefacts to display in the museum there. It was estimated in the last universal census that approximately eighty four per cent of the artefacts on display in the Museum World’s continent of antiquities were supplied or sourced by the Quantillians, giving them a unique and honourable position to the custodians of the museum. It is also worth noting that in the Quantillian language there are one hundred and fifty seven phrases for the term, “Antique Road Show”.

  (See also: Museum world, Vantax five, Bounty hunter, Quantavax.)

  ***

  On the command deck pandemonium had broken out. Slowly the ferocity of the forces battering the ship had receded as it rammed its way into the atmosphere. The crew were all peering closely at their boards, running multiple commands, attempting to trace the strange tremor that had shaken the ship mere moments before. Even Colin looked busy, and for once he did not seem to be dusting. Trevix ran a general scan and although he knew the ship was secure, he had no explanation for the strange force that had shaken the ship violently. Personally he felt shaken, and just a little... he struggled for the word... displaced seem to just about sum it up.

  He was contemplating this when the ship steadied as it checked its descent and entered a large cloud bank. Almost immediately the tremors marking their descent through the atmosphere settled and then ceased altogether.

  “Descent stabilised” barked Savarex as the ship emerged from the clouds. Below a large land mass filled the view screen.

  “Erm.. Commander..” stuttered Colin, pointing to the command deck side port holes, seconds before the loud klaxon warning of an imminent collision sounded. Through the bedlam Savarex clutched at her board, and the ship tilted slightly at a sharp angle and then returned to normal. From the corner of her eye she saw the ship shields status blink as they were raised automatically. The klaxons immediately cut off.

  Trevix stared at the side view screen at the long silver ship that was now running on a parallel course with them. “What the hell is that?” said Glotis.

  “Scan” said Trevix, and Glotis responded by running a sequence of commands on his board. Data began to reel across his screen. “Glotis?” asked Trevix, eager for the results.

  “Sub orbital craft” read Glotis, glancing from the read-out to the large long silver ship that seemed to be proceeding on its course as if nothing had happened at all. “Seems to be powered by some kind of fossil fuelled turbine engine. Running at below 500 vels airspeed. No apparent weaponry discovered.”

  “Life forms?” barked Trevix and Colin ran his board. This was his area.

  “Two hundred and sixty two life forms found. Bi-pedal humanoids in form. Two placed at front of craft. Presumably piloting it.”

  Trevix pondered this as Savarex continued to scan the ship for weaponry. It was then and only then that she would consider querying Trevix as to whether the shields should be dropped or not. For now the other craft was an unknown, and the shields would stay up. Seconds later the scan of the alien craft seemed to conclude that it contained no weaponry that she could detect.

  “Bi-peds?” queried Trevix, a deep frown crossing his features. “Are you sure?”

  Colin responded by running the same set of commands on his board again. “Confirmed.” he stuttered. He peered through the cockpit window to the other ship. It seemed to have strange writing all over it. Fascinating. He moved to the side command deck porthole to have a closer look.

  “There shouldn’t be bi-peds, should there, Glotis?” Trevix wondered. Glotis maintained his position, not looking away from the monitor attached to his board at all.

  “No.” he stated, flatly. “And they certainly should not have technology like this. I have no idea what is going on!”

  Savarex moved from her board, striking the monitor slightly with the palm of her hand in exasperation. “I have run a query on the tremor we all felt on the way in and the results do not make any kind of sense.”

  Trevix moved from his seat to stand beside her. “Explain” he said, peering at her display.

  Savarex pointed at a small chart on her display. “This” she said, pointing at the starting point of a chart that was showing on her screen. “This is the time signature just before the start of the event. “she then pointed to a huge peak on the chart. “This is the end point of the event, which from my personal experience lasted between three and five seconds.

  “Agreed.” said Trevix, pointing at the huge peak on the chart. What does this peak register in the actual length
of the event time wise?”

  Savarex ran a command on her board, and stared at the figures that the chart revealed. She slapped the monitor again, only slightly harder this time. “It does not make any sense. There must be a glitch in the calculations. I shall re-run them.” Trevix seemed completely non plussed.

  “How long?” he asked, almost nonchalantly.

  Savarex stared at the board once again. “Computer” she asked, “Is this calculation correct?” Immediately the computer voice came from the command deck speakers.

  “It is indeed correct, Savarex” the emotionless voice intoned.

  “But that does not make any sense” spat Savarex.

  “Nevertheless, the calculation is correct.” responded the ship’s computer. “I cannot explain it either. But the calculation is most definitely correct.”

  “How long?” asked Glotis, turning to face Savarex and Trevix. Colin seemed to be completely oblivious to this, continuing to stare out of the porthole.

  Savarex tutted almost to herself and then stared up from here screen to the two of them watching her closely.

  “Well” she said, almost appearing to look embarrassed at her findings. “Are we in agreement that the event that we all experienced during the descent lasted what - three seconds?”

  “Five at the most” said Glotis. Trevix nodded. Savarex dropped her head.

  “According to this calculation, which as you have just heard has been independently confirmed by the computer”

  Glotis started to drum his fingers on Savarex’s monitor. “How long?” he barked at her. Savarex glared at him in irritation.

  “According to this chart the event we experienced on our way down lasted sixty seven million years.” Trevix gasped. Glotis moved slightly back on his heels.