Paul McCartney's Coat Read online

  Having left Hyde park behind them and then crossed Kensington road they made their way down Queens Gate Terrace and then further along the street as it became the mews. The ships computer had uploaded the map into their memory, and they followed it impeccably, the four baseball capped crew members spending most of the time avoiding any kind of eye contact with anyone as they proceeded on their way. Finally they turned on to Cromwell Street and after a short while stood outside the twin arched doors of the Natural History Museum.

  “In here?” queried Trevix, looking up at the impressive outside of the museum.

  “Afraid so” said Colin, and led the way inside. The entrance to the museum although impressive was not quite on the scale they were used. The entrance hall to the natural history museum held on the museum world’s archipelago of natural history, for example, went on for approximately fifty miles. Here however, a large diplodocus skeleton straddled the entrance hall. “Wrong one” said Colin, searching for a floor plan of where they needed to be heading. After searching for what seemed like an age they discovered a large map showing the floor plans and Colin announced that the blue zone was the way to proceed.

  “The blue zone?” queried Glotis and Colin shrugged his shoulders. “According to the plans, yes.”

  They descended down the stair case. As they went Colin began to get increasingly nervous. This continued until they descended a long moving staircase and emerged on to a long walk way around which were arranged several dinosaur skeletons. Colin carefully picked his way amongst them until he stood beneath the huge skeleton of what used to be a Tyrannosaurus Rex.

  “Erm..” said Colin, pointing up above his head to the enormous skeleton, “This is it.”

  Glotis frowned and tapped the skeleton with his hand. “Did they bloody forget to feed it then?” he snarled, and Trevix and Savarex looked on in confusion.

  “What do you mean this is it?” demanded Trevix, spinning Colin around. “This has been dead for centuries - perhaps longer!”

  “Sixty five and a half million years approximately” stated Colin. “I thought this might have happened.”

  The other three members of the crew stared at him, the dinosaur skeleton now forgotten.

  Colin looked almost apologetically. “It is the time slip.” he explained. “the king of the tyrant lizards has been extinct for nearly sixty six million years. We missed the boat I think just about sums it up.”

  Trevix paled as Colin fiddled nervously with his baseball cap. Glotis turned away, spun back and then just stood there open mouthed. Colin pointed to the small bearded man nearby who seemed to be dressed in some kind of uniform and was using what looked like a long stick to clean up the floor. “He is its nearest relation,” pointed Colin, and waved his arms around at the crowds around them. “They all are - well sort of.”

  Glotis snarled once again. “Well we cannot take one of this lot” he waved dismissively at the crowds. “His most Royal Antiquoligist and Holy Majesty Flavius the Eighth would not be best pleased if we turned up with a cleaner, now would he?”

  Savarex looked confused. “So what do we do?” she gasped.

  Trevix took command. “The only thing we can do is try again. Locate the time slip and reverse the time difference, find us a lizard and head home.”

  Glotis held his head in his hands. “The likelihood of us locating a similar time slip for the same duration is nearly impossible. We could end up further in the future. Or anywhere, come to think of it.”

  Trevix used his cordal implant to communicate with the ship’s computer. “Computer.” he commanded, waking it from its electronic sleep, “the likelihood of us locating another time slip?” the computer responded instantly, and they all caught the communication as the computer replied, “0000000000000000 (this went on for about three minutes as they all waited for the first decimal point to appear. Eventually it did. The string of numbers after the point was distressingly long too. There was a long pause and the computer finished with, “In the next twenty seven million years” with a flourish.

  Trevix seemed to reel. “I think we need to get back to the ship and discuss our options” he muttered almost to himself. Slowly the four of them made their way out of the museum and back to the park.

  ***

  Galactipedia Entry last modified 21af478145

  Ref: Cordal implant

  First developed as a method of population suppressant, the coral implant or Pinocchio chip as it is more commonly known has in the last thousand years been refined to purely a communication device that responds to thought waves over a short wave communication band. The early - and often horrific - stories of how the original chips were used have long since been pushed to one side as the use of the implant as a communication device came to the fore. With any great advance in technology, of course there is always a dark side. For example, there is some evidence that a black market exists for the hacking of cordal networks, and although not easy it is in theory possible to hack in to such a network. Truly, in modern times, no thoughts can be said to be truly sacred.

  See Also: cordal, the history of cyber slavery, cordal hacking, thought suppression fields and Rupert Murdoch.

  ***

  “What the fuck do you mean you have lost the bloody ship?” yelled Glotis as Colin continued to pat his overall pockets, almost hopping from foot to foot in embarrassment, his turned put pockets sticking out from his overalls almost comically. Savarex sat on the ground, her back to a tree, her head in her hands. Trevix merely looked disappointed.

  “It is not my fault” mumbled Colin, sounding almost like a scolded child. “It is just not there! It must have fallen out of my pocket on our way to the museum.”

  “Computer” commanded Trevix, “expand back to normal size and make your way to our location.”

  Nothing.

  “Computer!” roared Trevix, “come in please” then trailed off in complete despondency,

  “Computer?”

  Still nothing.

  Savarex began to weep. Glotis too had the appearance of someone who was looking for a large stick to beat someone else to death with, as long as the person who was going to beaten to death’s name was Colin. Trevix looked as if he was going to be sick.

  “Colin?” enquired the ship’s computer directly in to Colin’s thoughts. “Why can’t Trevix, Glotis or Savarex hear me?”

  Continuing to look inconsolable Colin relayed his reply to the ship’s computer by thought alone.

  “Because I do not want them to hear you.” he said, and resisted the urge to smile.

  “But they seem to think you have lost the ship.” chided the computer.

  “Indeed they do.” replied Colin as Trevix issued the command for them all to pull themselves together and begin the search for the small silver ball that was the shrunken ship.

  “But I am under your baseball cap” came back the computer, and Colin thought he heard a slight edge of fear to the usual impersonal tone the ship’s computer used.

  “That is correct” replied Colin by thought. “Not much longer however.” Moving in to the growing darkness amongst the trees Colin removed the silver ball from beneath his baseball cap and with a grunt threw it into the air where it continued to rise invisibly higher and higher.

  “Normal size please ship but maintain stealth. I want you to achieve orbit around the planet but remain stealthed. Once this has been achieved maintain orbit until further communication from myself.”

  The computer responded almost instantaneously. “I do not take commands of such a nature as that from you, Colin.” it sneered. There was then a small gap and Colin smiled quietly to himself in the dark of the trees. The computer seemed to be almost struggling with itself but then calmly said, “Stealth maintained. Orbit will be achieved in twenty seven minutes local time.” then in another what seemed like a more panicked voice, “Colin what have you done?”

  “Oh not much” grinned Colin. “I just installed a small circuit breaker in the command console.�
� Colin paused in his thoughts slightly as the computer seemed to take in what it was going to be told. “You take orders from me and nobody else now.” he finished.

  “You will be up in front of a court martial when this comes out, you fat little fuck” came back the computer.

  “Tut tut” sighed Colin. “Once in orbit begin scan for time slip coordinates. “Further communication is not required until this has been located.”

  Silently, Colin cut the communication channel and moved back from the trees to re-join the other three members of the crew. “Nothing here” he said out loud, and they all glowered at him.

  Colin shrugged and started to move across the grass, his eyes constantly scanning the ground for the ball that he knew they were not going to find.

  Slowly the four members of the crew began to move through the lengthening shadows towards the lights of London that seemed to be gathering in increasing quantities all around them as darkness approached. Slowly, carefully checking the ground before them with every stop they took, they vanished in to the night.

  ***

  ONE YEAR LATER

  On that first night when the search for the ship had proved fruitless they had slowly began to realise that not only were they stranded on an alien planet, but they were stranded on an alien planet sixty seven million years in the past. To Colin’s amazement, there had been quite a short gap relatively speaking when the first communication came from the ship high above in orbit with the news that the time slip had been located. Colin was at work at the time.

  On that night, and for months to come Trevix would make a vain attempt to communicate with the ship’s computer to no avail. It was only when they began to get to grips with the severity of their situation that they realised they would have to “go native” and assimilate themselves with the local culture. This had started by commencing a search for a job. Slowly with the passage of time all attempts to contact the ship began to decrease. Eventually they did not bother any more. They came to realise that the ship was lost, its failure to communicate a total mystery. Colin knew better, however. In the meantime, Colin surprised them all by quickly discovering, and getting a job in which the ability to keep a baseball cap on at all times would be considered to be a good thing.

  “Would you like fries with that?” Colin asked the customer who paused slightly as the fat guy serving the food’s hat seemed to wiggle all on its own.

  “No thanks, buddy” he stammered and having thrown his money on the counter wandered away with his burger. Strangely, he did not feel terribly hungry any more.

  “Colin.” came the voice straight in to his thoughts. the voice was monotone, completely sexless and totally flat. It did however seem to have a vague flavour of “highly pissed off” at the same time. “The time slip has been located.”

  “Excellent.” replied Colin, communicating once more with his cordal implant by thought as he continued to serve his line of customers. Off to his left Glotis was completely unaware of his conversation with the ship’s computer and was flipping burgers on to a hot griddle.

  “Who’s next please?” said Colin out loud as the seemingly never ending queue snaked around the counter.

  “This is what I want you to do next. I want you to fly through the time slip and then maintain communication with me. Is that possible?”

  “You know it is” snarled back the computer, “you fat little fart but if I do that you will all be stranded there. It was a near impossible stroke of luck I have managed to re-locate it this time. Do you under-”

  “Shut the fuck up computer.” thought Colin, and the communication channel fell silent. Across the laughingly named restaurant he spotted Savarex and Trevix waiting on tables, and he waved to them. They waved happily back. They seemed to have assimilated really well, as had Colin. Of course, the staff discount helped.

  “Now do it. Communicate back when you have crossed the time slip.”

  Colin continued to serve the queue until five minutes later the ship’s computer sprung to life in his thoughts one more time. On this occasion however the communication channel, although clear, seemed a little distant (which it certainly was - sixty seven million years distant in fact). Colin grinned widely to himself.

  “Quarter pounder with cheese?” Colin asked the customer.

  “Now I want you to achieve warp ten on the planetary heading of 0,0,0,0”

  “Small or large?”

  “Colin, that is the centre of the planet “

  “Sure. I will hold on the gherkin and you want no salt on the fries?”

  “I know that. Now do it.”

  “What drink would you like with that?”

  “Colin, I calculate the explosion from the verillion drives upon impact will cause an explosion that will rock the planet. The result-”

  “Shut the fuck up computer. Just do it.”

  “We have Cola, water, orange juice, seven up and Fanta. The Fanta is orange, of course.”

  “Colin, I..”

  “Just do it. Or we have coffee as well, of course.”

  “Colin... I... you....”

  Then silence.

  Colin waited patiently while the customer chose which drink they wanted with their meal. At least the computer had had the grace to sound scared at the end. Colin remembered the local account of what they now referred to as the KT boundary event as a theory regarding the planet Earth being hit by a huge comet millions of years ago. Such a collision would send a ball of fire fourteen miles high into the atmosphere. The fall out would cover the entire planet with dust clouds for an entire year. Tidal waves would lash the land. The rain would turn to acid and the air to poison. The dinosaurs would die. Colin felt a slight pang of regret. He knew that it was not a comet, of course. Just the same as he knew when he saw the Tyrannosaurus Rex in the museum that it would be him that would kill it. He just did not realise that it would be him that killed all of them.

  Colin sighed sadly. What else could he have done? Unfortunately It was a real pity that the ship’s computer did not realise just how much it had pissed him off. Colin looked up from his thoughts, his attention returning to his customers once more.

  “Fanta it is.” he smiled. “And would you like an apple pie with that?”

  Paul McCartney’s Coat

  Old Todd was a right old card - I’ve never met a bloke before or since who was more up for a laugh, I can tell you! But now he’s gone and passed over I can tell you a secret he told me years ago, and as far as I know, I think probably it’s only him and me that knows all about it. Course, he ain’t telling now so it’s up to me. This is what he did.

  Best place to start would be with the music. Todd was a bugger for it. Rock and roll, pop. Strictly sixties stuff. None of this bloody head banging boom boom boom that seems to be all you can get these days. No idea what’s going on in kid’s heads listening to that kind of crap! Gives me a right old headache, it does. No, for Todd It had to be sixties music. Golden age, he called it, and he had no shift at all with anything that came after that. Used to get misty eyed about it, he did. Yeah, music was his thing, and he had a particular soft spot for the Beatles. He knew all the tunes, had all the albums. This was back in the days when they were proper albums you had to put on a turntable to play , and if he’d had a few he would sing along to all of their songs, word perfect. Not note perfect, I’d say! But that was Todd for you, though. Dead keen on the songs even if he couldn’t carry a tune in a bucket!

  Went to all the concerts too, he did. Not for the Beatles like, they hadn’t been in front of an audience for at least a year, and even that was in America. Nice work if you can get as far as I can see, but he said he remembered the early days and he had seen them once or twice back then. I think the way he looked at it was once they got popular you couldn’t even hear then playing because of the God awful row of all the girls screaming at them. Pretty much ruined it for Todd did that. Course it looks like it ruined it for them as well!

  So Todd was a big fan. He didn�
��t have the bloody Beatles wigs and what have you, but he had all of their albums, all their singles. It looked like he couldn’t have been a bigger fan. Well, on the music side, anyway.

  All that changed though, on the day that he found Paul McCartney’s coat.

  Todd found it in a boozer that a few of used to find ourselves in for a few pints after work. The Salt House, it was called and I think that’s its name again these days, though no doubt it changed names a few times over the years. Crazy old game is that, change the name and carpets , put a quid of the price of a pint and away you go. As if your average punter couldn’t suss that one out, makes me laugh! Funny thing is, they always seem to go back to the same old name over time. The new Salt House! Daft that is. Back in the day the Salt House was a right old place. I seem to recall that was always a bit of a ruckus every Friday night, and some Saturdays probably, too. But it was a right old traditional boozer. Of course, food wasn’t served in pubs back in the sixties. The best you could hope for would be a packet of crisps or nuts at best. Oh - and them little packet of crackers with a cheese slice. They were the strangest thing! Bloody health and safety people would have a screaming fit at the very thought of them these days. As I remember it was a couple of little Ritz crackers, a few cheese slices and some small pickled onions, all in the same bag. Great idea, but of course you wouldn’t see any of them these days. I don’t think that they could even begin to be described as the height of food hygiene. Gawd they were tasty though!