Nostradamus Ate My Hamster

17 My Stepmother is An Arian

Julie worked at the controls, making adjustments, doing this and that. At length she sat back in the pilot’s seat and smiled up at Russell. “We’re on our way,” she said.

“And dare I ask, to where?”

“To the future, of course.”

“Of course.” Russell scratched at his chin. It needed a shave. “Would you care to tell me just what’s going on?”

Julie tossed back her beautiful hair. “All right,” she said. “I’ll tell you everything. Some of it you already know, but not all. I wonder where I should start.”

Russell said nothing.

“Aren’t you supposed to say ‘at the beginning’?”

“No.” Russell shook his head. “Everyone always says that. You start wherever you want.”

“All right. I’ll start with the Flügelrad. I’ll bet you’d like to know how I’m able to fly it.”

“The thought had crossed my mind.”

“Well, it’s simple. I know how to, because my father built it.”

“Your father?”

“My stepfather actually, I was adopted. My stepfather is Mr Fudgepacker.”

“Oh,” said Russell.

“Except Ernest Fudgepacker is not his real name. His real name is Viktor Schauberger. He was an aeronautical engineer working for the Third Reich. Adolf Hitler is a friend of the family, you could say.”

“They certainly seemed very chummy.”

“The Flügelrads were constructed at the very end of the Second World War. Built under other-world guidance.”

“Other-world? Like, from outer space?”

“More like inner space, but let me explain. Two crafts were completed. One was to take Hitler forward one hundred years. The other was to take a number of military advisors back in time to readvise the German military on where the campaigns had gone wvong before they did, so Germany would win the war.”

“Which it didn’t.”

“Because the other Flügelrad malfunctioned. Hitler went off into the future, expecting to step out in glory into a world dominated by the Nazis, but when he got there, it wasn’t.”

“But Bobby Boy said it was, or is.”

“I’m coming to that. Hitler found that the future was not dominated by the Nazis, so he decided to go back in time and find out why. But he didn’t want to risk going back as far as the Second World War, so he stopped off here, in the nineteen nineties. He wanted to seek out his old friend Viktor Schauberger and find out what had gone wrong. The craft landed on the allotments and that’s when Bobby Boy saw it.”

“And Bobby Boy got into it and went into the future.”

“And stole the Cyberstar equipment.”

“But Bobby Boy said it was a Nazi future.”

“And so it was when he got there.”

“Now hang about,” said Russell. “This is all a bit of a coincidence, isn’t it? I can buy Fudgepacker being Schauberger, but Bobby Boy being the one who finds the Flügelrad, and just happens to work for Fudgepacker.”

“Well he would, Russell. Bobby Boy is my stepbrother. He’s Mr Fudgepacker’s son.”

“I thought he was the son of the local brewery owner.”

“Mr Fudgepacker is the local brewery owner.”

“What?”

“Mr Fudgepacker owns half of Brentford. Bought with Nazi gold. Hitler knew he’d be here if he was still alive. Fudgepacker was planning to change his identity and move here after the war if the Germans lost. Hitler knew all about it. He set it up.”

“This is getting wilder by the moment. So Bobby Boy knew what the Flügelrad was when he saw it.”

“Exactly, and he couldn’t resist getting inside and having a go. He flew into the future and nicked the Cyberstar equipment. He didn’t half get a hiding from the old man when he got back.”

“I thought he got back before he left.”

“He lied about that.”

“Then he probably lied about the Nazi future as well.”

“No, he was telling the truth about that.”

“I’m confused,” said Russell.

“I’m trying to make it as simple as I can. Hitler’s henchmen, the two SS guards, located Mr Fudgepacker. He arranged for me to hide Hitler in the shed behind The Bricklayer’s Arms. Where you saw him. Bobby Boy turned up just after you’d gone. And he told his story about being in a Nazi future. Now Mr Fudgepacker put two and two together. The future had not been Nazi when Hitler got there, but it had when Bobby Boy got there. Why was that?”

“Good question,” said Russell. “Why was that?”

“Because Bobby Boy had stolen the Cyberstar equipment and brought it back to the nineteen nineties.”

“I still don’t get it.”

“Mr Fudgepacker told you about the movie. The movie to be made with the equipment. The movie that would change the world. Change the future.”

“Oh,” said Russell. “I see. The stolen equipment from the future would be used to change the future. But surely that can’t be done.”

“Why not?”

“Because it’s plagiarism. They used the same idea in Terminator 2.”

“Whatever made you say that?”

“I just thought I’d get it in before anyone else did.”

“Fair enough.”

“So what you’re saying, is, that by going into the future and stealing the equipment that would change the future, the future Bobby Boy went into was a future that had already been changed, by him having stolen the equipment and used it in the then-past, which is our present?”

“Exactly. It’s all so simple when you put it like that.”

“So the movie will change the future.”

“With His help, it will.”

“This is the He I saw on the video, the red-faced insect thing?”

“It was He who guided the construction of the Flügelrad. The rise of Nazi Germany in the twentieth century offered the first real opportunity for a single man to rule the entire world.”

“Mr Hitler.”

“And if he’d won, it would have happened. Hitler is just a puppet of this creature. It feeds off people, feeds off their time. It swallows up their time, takes their feelings, their emotions. It intends to put something into the movie. Something subliminal, or active in some way that will control the minds of all who watch it. And everyone will want to watch it, they’ll have never seen anything like it before.”

“Good God,” said Russell.

“Bad God,” said Julie.

“But is it a god? Or is it from outer space, or inner space, or what?”

“I don’t know exactly what it is. Mr Fudgepacker knows. He’s its guardian. At times it is moved to other places and others guard it. But it always returns to the Emporium. I’ve known of it since I was a child.”

“So aren’t you afraid?”

“Very afraid. That’s why I went along with everything. The making of the movie. Everything.”

“Yes, what about the movie? The one I saw on the videos wasn’t the same one I saw the next day at the screening.”

“It was. You just didn’t think it was. You saw what they wanted you to see. You were hypnotized while you slept. When they dressed your head and changed the safe.”

“They’ve made a right fool out of me, haven’t they? But I’ll have the last laugh. I won’t market their evil movie. I’ll stop it ever getting shown.”

“I don’t know if you can. You see, after you left the party Hitler turned up in the Flügelrad. He’d come back from the future. The Nazi future he controls. He’d come back to congratulate Mr Fudgepacker on the success of the movie. It does get shown, Russell, with, or without your help. And it does change the world.”

“Then we’ve got to stop it. Somehow.”

“Oh yes, we have. It’s all so evil. I couldn’t be a part of it any longer.”

“So that’s why you shouted out when Bobby Boy attacked me.”

“You’re the one person I knew I could trust. The one person prepared to stand up to them. You’re the one person I really care about, Russell.”

Julie’s mouth was there to kiss. So Russell kissed it.

The Flügelrad flew on into the future.

Explicit things occurred within, which had only previously occurred there on one occasion. And that was in 1955, when a certain Miss Turton of 16 Mafeking Avenue, Brentford, who got a mention at the beginning of Chapter 6, had her brief encounter of the third kind.

The explicit things now, however, occurred with a great deal more gusto and mutual appreciation. Russell gave of his all unstintingly and Julie, for her part, responded in a manner that only an ex-contortionist go-go dancing sex aid demonstrator truly can.

Lucky old Russell.

Then BANG! went the Flügelrad.

“Did the earth move for you too?” Julie asked.

“Yes,” said Russell. “Ouch.”

There was a curious vibration. Things seemed to go out of focus. Everything double, then merging into one again.

“Is it supposed to do that?” Russell rubbed at his eyes.

“Don’t ask me, I’ve never flown the thing before.”

“That’s comforting.”

“But I think it means we’ve arrived at whenever we’ve arrived at.”

“And so’s that.”

Julie began to put on her clothes. “Come on,” she said. “Let’s get out.”

“Aw, must we just yet?”

“I think we must.”

The ladder extended and the hatch snapped open. Russell stuck his head out and sniffed at the air. Did it smell like home? Well, it smelled of flowers. Spring flowers. Russell climbed up onto the dome and took a look around. The Flügelrad had landed in bushes, in the middle of a pleasant park. In the distance rose wondrous buildings of a futuristic nature. Closer, old housing, faintly familiar.

“I think we’ve landed in exactly the same place Bobby Boy landed.” Russell joined Julie back in the cockpit. “Let’s go for a walk and see what’s what.”

“Do you think it will be safe?”

“Not for one minute. But let’s do it anyway.”

Russell helped her down the ladder. The Flügelrad was pretty well hidden by the bushes and there was no-one about. It couldn’t hurt to leave it there and take a quick look around.

Of course it couldn’t.

“It’s supposed to be all uniforms and golden dresses here.” Russell examined his appearance. Scruffy, he concluded. Julie looked marvellous. She was still wearing the short black evening number. The one that should have had more than a mention earlier.

“We could try and steal some clothes,” Julie said.

“Oh no. We’re not stealing anything. We’ll go and have a look around, size up the situation. But we won’t get involved in anything.”

“Fair enough.”

They strolled across the park. Julie held Russell by the hand, which made Russell feel proud. Soon they reached the something-strasser.

“Look,” Russell pointed. “It’s The Bricklayer’s Arms. And Bobby Boy told the truth. It has been renamed The Flying Swan.”

“I wonder why.”

Russell shrugged. “I’m sure it will be explained eventually.”

And on they walked.

Folk passed them on the something-strasser, young folk, tall and handsome. But Russell didn’t like the way they moved. So stiffly, so unnaturally. They did not so much as glance at Russell, but they did look twice at Julie.

Ahead, where The Great West Road had once been, they found the mammoth shopping mall. All high glass and chrome, with the souped-up Volkswagens flying around it and landing upon upper platforms.

“Shall we take a look at the shops, Russell?”

“Why not.”

Through the glass revolving doors and into a massive entrance hall. Russell spied out the golden letters that crowned a silver arch, leading to a grand arcade of shops.

THE SCHAUBERGER MEMORIAL MALL

Russell shook his head and they walked on.

And all the shops were there, the ones Bobby Boy had spoken of. The clothes shops and the gift shops and the Adolf Hitler souvenir shops. And the Tandys with the German name.

“That’s the shop,” said Russell. “The one he stole the Cyberstar equipment from.”

“Russell, look.” Julie pointed through the window. Inside children were playing upon the holographic video games. Famous film stars, Cyberstar projections, stood as if in conversation.

And beyond them, standing at the counter …

“It’s Bobby Boy.” Russell stared. “He’s here, now. How can he be here, now?”

As they watched him, Bobby Boy turned from the counter, a parcel in his hands, and began to walk towards the door.

“He’s coming this way.” Russell hustled Julie into a shop doorway.

“Why are we hiding from him?”

“Good question.” Russell made to step out and accost the thin man, but at that moment alarms sounded and lights began to flash.

“Best keep a low profile,” said Russell withdrawing once more into hiding.

Bobby Boy passed within feet of them, a frightened look on his long thin face. He took a couple of faltering steps and then broke into a run.

And then came the sounds of a terrible clanking. As Russell and Julie looked on, the two horrendous iron robots went by at the trot in pursuit of Bobby Boy.

“Let’s hope they catch him,” said Russell. “But I don’t understand how –”

“Look.” Julie pointed. Men in black uniforms with swastika arm bands came marching down the mall. They marched into the electrical shop and approached the chap behind the counter.

“Come on,” said Russell. “We’re innocent by-standers. Let’s go in and see what’s on the go.”

Inside the shop, an officer type, with Heinrich Himmler glasses and a bad attitude, was interviewing the counter chap. Russell mingled close to catch an earful.

“He walked into the shop,” said the counter chap, wringing his hands and cringing as he spoke. “He wore the black. Naturally I assumed he was a party member. And he looked at the Cyberstar system and he wanted to know whether the holograms could be made to do anything he wanted. Things not in the movies they’re programmed to re-enact. And so I said, yes of course, sir, and so he said he would take one. But when he eyeballed the screen for retina and iris identification, the alarms went off. He is unregistered. How can this be?”

“This cannot be,” shouted the Himmler person. “Unless –”

“Unless, capitan of security?”

“Unless this is the fellow mentioned in the document. The one we have been expecting. How was this fellow? Was he tall, very thin, with a tricky little mouth?”

“Got him in one,” whispered Russell.

“You have him in one, my capitan.”

“Then all is well. You are not to blame, citizen, carry on with your business, the cost of the system will be taken from your wages.”

“You’re too kind, my capitan.”

“Yes, I am the nice one.”

Russell glanced down at the counter. There all on its own stood the programmer.

“The thief will be apprehended. All is well.”

“Thank you, my capitan. Oh and one thing, my capitan.”

“What is it?”

“Well, sir, in his haste he left without the programmer. The system is useless without it. I have it here. Oh, I don’t have it here.”

Outside in the mall, Julie said, “You stole it, Russell, I saw you.”

“Yep,” Russell patted at the pocket which had had so much use lately. “And I’m keeping it. We can stop all this right now. If Bobby Boy never gets the programmer, he can’t work the Cyberstar equipment. And if he can’t work that, they can’t make the movie.”

They walked back along the mall.

“I hope you’re right,” said Julie.

“And why wouldn’t I be?”

“Well, there’s something bothering me.”

“And that’s what?”

“Well, we both agree on what we just saw, don’t we?”

“We just saw Bobby Boy steal the equipment. We must have arrived here only moments after he did, when he made the journey from the allotments.”

“That’s what’s bothering me.”

“Go on.”

“Well, Bobby Boy came here in the Flügelrad, didn’t he?”

“Yes.”

“And we came here in the Flügelrad, didn’t we?”

“Yes again.”

“And you think that we landed in exactly the same place he did.”

“Yes again, again.”

“But I didn’t see another Flügelrad parked nearby, did you?”

“Ah,” said Russell. “No I didn’t.”

“So how would you account for that?”

The worried look returned once more to Russell’s face. “I don’t know,” he said. “I think we’d better get back to the park.”

They didn’t run, they didn’t want to draw attention to themselves. But they walked very fast and they were soon back at the little park behind the something-strasser.

They were just in time to see several black VW flying cars lift off and sweep away into the sky.

“Are you thinking what I’m thinking?” Julie asked.

“I’m afraid that I probably am.”

They searched the bushes and all about the place. They crossed and they recrossed their tracks. But all they found were three neat depressions in the soil. The marks of tripod legs.

The Flügelrad was nowhere to be seen and they were now trapped in the future.