18.
It was late afternoon before Emily spotted Azziz and Jesus coming along the beach. There was lots of splashing going on in the water next to them. When they got closer she could make out flashes of red. Closer still and she could see that it was a school of zinodes. They had a couple of footballs and were flicking them ahead with their tails then swimming fast trying to be the first to reach them.
Emily went down to meet them.
‘Hi Em,’ said Jesus, with a beaming smile. ‘We’re late, aren’t we? We’re always late. We were just finishing off the house.’
‘Finishing off the house, my foot!’ said Azziz. ‘He was out surfing!’
‘And you were checking out the vicinity for anything that could be brewed, fermented, distilled or smoked!’
‘Humph, humph,’ said Azziz, clearing his throat. ‘The house is finished. You’re invited to the house warming party; we’ll have it soon.’
‘That’ll be great; I’ll be able to wear my new clothes.’
‘We’ve got a couple of hours before we go,’ said Azziz. ‘So let’s have a kick around, teroid rules.’
‘Teroid rules, Earth rules,’ explained Jesus.
They scratched out a soccer pitch on the beach using bits of driftwood, which they then stuck in the sand to mark the corners and goals.
‘It’s only half a pitch,’ said Emily.
‘Exactly, it’s beach soccer; half on the beach, half in the sea with the goals in the wishy-washy bit where the waves break. It’s Jesus and you and six zinodes against me and the other six. We’ll take our shirts off,’ said Azziz.
The ball was mini, about half the size of a normal football. Placing it in the middle of the pitch, Azziz gave a sharp whistle to start play. From that point on it was a riot, more rugby than soccer. As soon as Emily got the ball, her feet were taken out from under her and she ended up in a snotty heap on the sand. Next time the ball came her way, she passed it straight away before anything nasty happened. The zinodes either hovered just above the ground or splashed about in the sea like mermaids. They could really whack the ball, easily knocking it the length of the pitch with a flick of their powerful tail. While Azziz and Jesus, having two feet preferred to dribble, the zinodes hit the ball on the volley or trapped it with their tail, flipped it in the air, then whacked it.
Emily ended up in tears after collecting a ball in the side of the head. Not getting any sympathy, she crawled up the beach and sat on a log with her head in her hands. Hearing a gentle snarl and feeling something rub up against her leg, she looked around to see Negrita, ‘Oh Negrita,’ she said, and made the same old mistake of going to stroke her, ending up with a bloody finger and more tears.
‘You probably want to play with Enzo,’ she said between sobs, and was about to pull the white ring cage out of her pocket when she had second thoughts. Some things are best kept secret!
‘Later Negrita, later,’ she said and ran back down the beach to re-join the game.
The water was still chilly and Emily was shivering cold and turning blue by the time the zinodes got hungry and abandoned play. They chased a school of mackerel up on the beach, keeping just enough for dinner and letting the rest flippy flop their way back into the sea.
While Emily was getting changed into her other pair of jeans and a dry T-shirt, Azziz and Jesus barbecued up the fish, burning them to perfection. There was a lot of good natured ribbing when they found that they were one fish short and the zinode who they decided couldn’t count, swam out and caught a lovely pink and blue snapper for his dinner. He was quite happy with the outcome, as was Negrita who sat up the olive tree picking scales off her whiskers with her sharp claws.
A long, sleek spacecraft came to pick them up. It hovered over the beach, kicking up a cloud of sand, while they clambered aboard.
‘Why not teleport?’ asked Emily.
‘It’s more fun on the bus,’ said Azziz.
The bus took off, dipping its wings to say hi to the sentry moon then shot off at high speed.
‘Where are we off to?’ ask Emily.
‘Szabo,’ said Azziz, holding on tight as the ship lurched to avoid an asteroid. ‘It’s way across to the other side of the Asteroid Belt, they’ll put down the shields when we get close to the sun.’
The zinodes drummed and sung, danced and fought. It was chaos on bus. Out of the porthole Emily glimpsed a familiar looking planet, blue with swirls of white cloud marbling its surface.
‘Is it-?’ she asked.
‘Earth,’ said Jesus. ‘Would you like a closer look?’
‘Oh yes!’
Jesus yelled something out and the bus lurched towards Earth. It grew and grew in her porthole then was lost from view behind yellow and orange fire.
The Zinos hooted and hollered then broke into football songs.
The fire cleared to reveal grey cloud whizzing by Emily’s window. Through the murk, she could just pick out the vague grey forms of houses far below.
‘England,’ said Jesus. ‘The home of football.’
The bus turned skywards again filling Emily’s view with fire.
Is Annie okay? Has Mum’s new baby arrived yet? I wish they could come along.
As the bus approached the sun, shields slid into place over the windows, the lights were dimmed and holographic projectors played highlights from football matches. At one stage, everyone and everything, including the balls in the replays, slid to one side.
‘We’re slingshotting around the sun,’ said Azziz. ‘These old bangers travel at less than light speed, so slingshot off planets and suns, using the gravitational force to accelerate them towards their destination. It’s great because we get a close look at the planets.’
A giant screen dropped down at the front of the cabin. Manchester United versus Real Madrid, live! The zinodes all cheered for Manchester United. Emily thought at first that it was because Manunited wore red too, then realised that the zinodes are Manunited fans. They shouted out each player’s name as he got the ball and cheered, booed and heckled the referee according to the play. When things were going Manunited’s way they sung along with the crowd in the stadium.
If only the players knew that they’re being watched live by a rowdy bunch of extra-terrestrials slingshotting around the sun!
To the delight of the zinodes, the men in red won. Once the cheering had died down, the cabin was darkened and everyone snoozed. It’d been a busy day for Emily and she was out like a light, awakened what seemed minutes later to Jesus’s lovely voice cutting through her dreams, ‘Emily, emily, emily, Em-il-y!’
She stretched, turned over and tried to sneak off to sleep again.
‘Em, em, Emily, EMILY WAKE UP!’
‘Please, please go away and let me sleep,’ she pleaded.
‘Emily, get up now. We’re at the bus stop. If we don’t get off now, we’ll end up on one of Saturn’s moons at the depot.’
Emily stretched groggily and climbed down from the bus shielding her eyes from the bright light. It was all a bit much for that hour of the morning so she linked arms with Azziz and Jesus and shut her eyes, letting them guide her.
‘Okay, you can open your eyes now,’ said Azziz.
Emily blinked against the harsh light. Once see could see, she decided that there was nothing to see and shut her eyes again. Her short glimpse revealed something dark greenish overhead but apart from that, nothing.
‘Where are we?’ she asked.
‘Szabo.’
‘There’s nothing here.’
‘Yes there is. Open your eyes.’
She opened them and looked around. Apart from the tree they were standing under, there was nothing but an old well.
A wave of deja-vu washed over Emily. ‘I’ve been here before,’ she said, ‘but the tree was missing. The well was here but not the tree. It’s an arcadia, L’Arbre du Ténéré, the most lonely tree on Earth.’
‘You’re right!’
‘But it doesn’t exist. It was knocked over b
y a drunken Libyan truck driver in nineteen seventy-three,’ she said, trying to get her head around it.
‘It doesn’t exist on Earth anymore. There was so much demand for it that it went up for auction. The szabo got it and recreated the well to make it authentic.’
Emily looked around. It was like the Sahara but bleaker. There were a few zinodes around, mostly sporting red Manunited shirts, but no one else.
‘I thought we were coming to a soccer match. Do they draw the pitch on the desert?’
‘The stadium’s broken down. It’ll be here as soon as they fix it,’ said Azziz.
Emily decided that it was best not to ask. She’d just wait and see.
She was thrilled to be back in the desert, she felt right at home. Memories of Zula came flooding back; not that it was his finest moment that he fell down the well!
They bought cups of mint tea from a vendor and spent the morning sitting under the tree.
Emily was sure she could hear voices but there was no one to be seen.
‘I can hear voices,’ she said.
‘It’s busy, isn’t it,’ said Jesus. ‘The tree is the focal point of the asteroid.’
‘Busy?’ said Emily, ‘You must be joking!’
‘Have you still got your eyes shut? Look!’
‘Look at what? You’re pulling my leg.’
‘Would we?’
‘Yes.’
‘Yes we would, but for once we’re not. Do you mean to say that you honestly cannot see anything?’
‘Yes, just desert and one zinode over there,’ said Emily pointing to a red shirted zinode.
‘Oh,’ said Jesus, thinking.
A few moments later, he said, ‘I’ve checked with Castor and he says that you can’t see them.’
‘He’s right. See who?’
‘The szabo. Apparently they exist beyond the level of your consciousness, like on a different plane.
‘Castor has just added that they exist in the same dimension as ghosts, goblins and mythical creatures do on Earth. They’re there, but you cannot see them and are only very rarely aware of their presence.’
‘So these people that don’t exist,’ said Emily. ‘What do they do here?’
‘Hang out. Maybe they come here to watch football and get away from their nagging wives like everyone else does.’
‘And what did the szabo, give you in exchange for their asteroid?’
‘They supply the antimatter.’
‘Antimatter,’ said Emily thoughtfully. ‘That makes sense.’
A minute later, she asked, ‘Can they see me?’
‘Probably not.’
Emily could hear them. Not through her ears but in her mind.
‘Do they speak the universal language?’ she asked.
‘Yes, of course.’
‘I can hear them, but I can’t understand a word that they’re saying.’
‘Great, if you can hear them, you’re there. It’s probably best that you don’t understand them, they are a little odd.’
That aroused Emily’s curiosity. Maybe they were talking dirty. She closed her eyes and concentrated really hard. She couldn’t hear them at all. The harder she listened, the less she heard.
No one seemed surprised that the stadium hadn’t turned up. A series of friendly games were organised between the supporters of the two teams. Pitches were marked out on the light brown dust using black tarry stuff and poles with red flags on top were used to mark the corners. Piles of sand with rocks on top were built to mark the goals.
On Earth, football supporters watch it, read about it, and talk and argue about it. Here on Szabo, everyone played, and played well.
The Szabo team were Barcelona supporters, so it was navy and maroon vertical stripes against the Manchester red of the asteroid, Vespa. The players were mostly zinodes but Azziz and Jesus, a few other anodes, and Emily played too. There were also some long sleeved jerseys playing without occupants.
‘What’s with the empty jerseys?’ asked Emily.
Azziz laughed, and said, ‘They’re the szabo, not the quickest around the pitch, but with their long arms, they make great goalies!’
The games were played teroid rules but only just. The play was often five or ten metres above the ground, but whenever the ball came near Emily, the good-natured zinodes let it drop down to ground level so she had half a chance of getting her foot to it. Games went on until one team surrendered, so could be really quick, or if both teams are evenly matched, went on all day.
Emily lost track of the days. They played soccer by day and sat under the arcadia tree at night, singing and playing backgammon. Her new clothes were soon covered with sweat, dust and dirt and she was starting to dream of her comfy bed and long hot baths. She was happy though; she’d always liked football and enjoyed Jesus and Azziz’s company. It was small wonder that they were such a hit on earth.
Although she hadn’t quite got her head around Unilangue, she’d got the hang of thinking; lots of quiet, secret thoughts for herself; slightly louder ones to communicate with Jesus and Azziz; and with a directed thought she could call someone up. No loud thoughts, not any more. She didn’t want the world listening to her thoughts, especially when she was thinking about boys!
A low whining noise heralded the arrival of the stadium, which appeared as a distant speck in the pale yellow sky. As it grew so did the noise and by the time the stadium was kicking up a huge cloud of dust as it touched down in the desert, Emily’s nose was bleeding and she had to press both hands tight over her ears to keep out the roar of its massive thrusters. Szabo didn’t seem to have any weather. With no breeze to blow the dust away it was a full day before the dust had settled enough to see the stadium.
Most football stadiums are much the same, like big Yorkshire puddings. This one was different. It was strikingly simple and beautiful. Shaped like a giant dewdrop, it was shiny, smooth and functional, looking one moment like glass, the next like stainless steel; one moment reflecting its surroundings, the next blending in. Up close, the finish and detailing was amazing. With zinodes being designers and craftsmen and football their religion, this was their cathedral, beautifully conceived and crafted and all the more impressive for standing alone in the middle of nowhere.
Emily hadn’t seen more than five hundred begins since they’d arrived on the asteroid. While she couldn’t see the szabo, she knew that there weren’t enough of them to full the huge stadium. She couldn’t imagine where the crowd would come from, but come they did. On the morning of the match, thousands of szabo had put their colours on. Stripy navy and maroon shirts were everywhere. Shirts stood around loitering, walked arm in arm, ran and fought, lazed about and slept.
During the day, a steady stream of spacecraft arrived, from cute little flying saucers the size of a car, to cruisers, as Azziz called them, the size of an ocean liner. Azziz loved the fighters, sleek craft bristling with cannons. Some were painted camouflage colours, others matt black, and some Emily just didn’t know how to describe. Azziz said that they’re adaptable craft, blending in with their surroundings, making them all but invisible.
Thousands of zinodes teleported in wearing their colours, and there were aliens of all shapes and sizes, like extras from a science fiction film. Emily met a handful of anodes. They hugged and kissed Jesus and Azziz, but most of them wouldn’t shake her hand. Some did, which was better than none. Zeus was right, these guys didn’t like humans.
‘Why aren’t there more anodes?’ asked Emily.
‘Because anodes organise everything, it’s difficult for us to get away,’ said Jesus.
‘Why aren’t you organising something then?’ asked Emily.
‘I’m not ready for it yet,’ he replied with a grin.
By late afternoon they were seated inside the packed stadium, way up high, with a fantastic view down on the pitch. Emily and her dad went to a big match once, at the stadium in Manchester. Here there was the same buzz of expectancy electrifying the air. What was different was
the pitch, which had no side lines and the goals which were as tall as they were wide.
‘Zinode Rules,’ said Jesus. ‘The field of play is anywhere in the stadium and every time there’s a stoppage, another ball is added. Each ball is a different colour and the referee blows a different tone on his whistle for each one. You can end up with up to eleven games going on at once. The more balls there are in play, the better the chance of a goal being scored. Once a goal is scored, they kick off again with one ball. There is no out, the players head off out of the stadium sometimes but they always come back. This is where the goals are!’
‘Sounds great,’ said Emily.
‘Kickoff is at sunset, in half an hour.’
The pre-match build-up was much the same as any first division match in Europe, but with an alien cast and a singer who split Emily’s eardrums. The players came on, escorted by young ones and the club anthems were played with the crowd standing in respect.
‘Keep an eye on red player number three, Julia,’ said Azziz. ‘She just signed up this season but has already scored eight goals.’
‘How can you tell the girls from the boys? They all look the same to me.’
‘It’s easy; the girls have forked tails, the boys rounded ones.’
‘Got it.’
A security moon descended into the stadium and hovered about half way up.
‘Wow,’ said Azziz, ‘It’s an SM5, the latest model. I wonder if they’re expecting trouble. It might be a big night tonight! The sentry slug is referee. Arcturus is a bit of a stickler; he gave out two red cards in the last match.’
Pooop!
The referee’s whistle sounded and the ball was kicked off. The players left the ground quickly, positioning themselves around the airspace inside the stadium. The zinodes were incredibly fast and accurate passers, hovering in wait, swooping on the ball, then with a quick flick of the tail, sending it on to the next player. They used every available bit of space, often crashing into the crowd amidst cheering and clapping. After a determined tackle, Pooop, another ball appeared, and before long a third. It was impossible to take in all of the action.
Pooop, Booop, Peep.
Three, four, five, six different games were going on with different whistles sounding for each ball. More balls appeared and then Szabo scored a goal. The empty jerseys in the crowd erupted, jumping five metres in the air then slowly drifting back down into their seats. Banners were unfurled and bright pink flares thrown onto the pitch.
The players did a quick celebratory lap of the stadium, then descended to ground level and took up their positions.
Pooop!
The game restarted with one ball.
It was so much more exciting that teroid football to watch. Sometimes the players whizzed by within arm’s reach, at others they were all but lost from sight on the other side of the stadium. Although zinodes were small, just half a metre tall, clever lighting, with the whole stadium darkened and just the balls, players and goals illuminated made them easy to see.
After three-quarters of an hour of play, with the score three goals to Vespa, five to Szabo, a loud siren sounded and the players quickly hid among the crowd.
‘Is it half time?’ asked Emily naively.
‘No,’ said Azziz, looking up. ‘Now the real action starts!’
The crowd fell silent in anticipation, all looking up.
Suddenly the umpire’s moon swung around and opened fire with all guns.
Pachum, pachum, pachum.
Gun turrets popped out of the top of the stadium and joined the fire.
Blam, blam, blam.
Lasers and torpedoes crisscrossed the sky. There was a couple of big explosions and chunks of burning slimeball splattered on the pitch. The crowd jumped to their feet with a roar. Emily had seen slimeball attacks on Camillo, but this is something else, a heavy concentrated attack. Arcturus in his new SM5 was the star, spinning and turning as he fired, then dodging out of the way of incoming slime.
Splat!
A slimeball got though the defences and landed in the middle of the pitch. The crowd went wild as it headed for the stadium. Just as it splattered into the crowd and devoured the first couple of spectators, Arcturus spun around and roasted it with his lasers then fired a torpedo into it.
Blap!
It exploded sending chunks of burning slime everywhere.
A flaming, still pulsating lump of blue slime landed on Emily’s lap.
‘Aaaaagh!’ she screamed, swinging her arms like a windmill, as she tried to knock the flames out and push it away all at the same time. ‘Aaaaaaaagh!’
‘I’ll have it if you don’t want it!’ shouted Jesus, as he grabbed the glutinous mass, breaking off a chunk and eating it.
Over the sound of the gunfire, Emily could just hear him saying, ‘The burnt bits at the edge are best, like toasted marshmallow.’
Breaking another piece off and offering it to Emily, Jesus said, ‘Would you like some?’
She shook her head, she couldn’t speak. Her whole body shook and she felt something warm and wet running down her legs.
It seemed like forever before the gunfire slowed down, and after a final putoom from Arcturus sent the last slimeball spinning off into the car park, it was over.
The crowd cheered and roared for a full five minutes, then the players reappeared.
Pooop.
The game was off again.
‘Aren’t they going to stop play and cancel the game?’ asked Emily.
‘No, no,’ said Azziz, his mouth still full of blue slime. ‘It’s all part of the spectacle these days. Since slimeball attacks started, crowd numbers have doubled. Now the stadium is always full. The larger the crowd, the more organic material and the bigger the attack is.’
‘Surely they could shoot them down in space or shut the roof, or something?’
‘It would spoil the fun!’
‘But people got hurt, a slimeball got into the stadium.’
‘Only a couple, Arcturus let that one through. He gets a cut of the takings!’ said Azziz, blue slime oozing out between his teeth and dripping from his chin.
Emily just shook her head. She didn’t remember much more of the game, she was too shook up. She didn’t even know who won.
Once it was over, Jesus and Azziz took Emily by the hand and guided her out through the lively crowd. The bus was waiting in the car park. As soon as she was seated, she went to sleep.
She awoke feeling like her insides were being pushed out her throat. The bus leaned right over and the passengers piled up on the starboard side.
‘What’s happening?’ she asked.
‘Mars, they always push it to the limit around Mars.’
The craft suddenly spun out, sending stuff flying everywhere.
‘Yes, they lost it!’ exclaimed Azziz.
Red lights started flashing and the loudspeaker shouted something indecipherable, but urgent over the ear-piercing shriek of the alarm.
Zimp! Zimp! Zimp!
The passengers started disappearing.
‘Grab my hand,’ shouted Azziz, as the craft disintegrated around them.
Zimp!
They tumbled onto Emily’s grassy front lawn in a tangle of legs and arms.
‘That was close,’ exclaimed Azziz. ‘They always give it the welly around Mars. It’s got small moons so the chance of hitting one if you spin out is infinitesimal. The one we hit was Deimos!’