Retrieving Bart from a precarious perch on the roof, and with Cupcake left behind to “guard the habitation”, they took the bus to the supermarket. At first both of Niki’s parents refused to entertain the idea of public transport, insisting that it would demean their high status, but then Gavin informed them that there was a special priority lane reserved only for buses, and Niki added that from the top deck of the double-decker you got to look down on everyone. That was enough to get them aboard the 55.

  Twenty minutes later they got out at the stop outside the supermarket. Bart strolled inside, declaring that he needed to stock up on chia seeds and lentils, while Gavin paused to grab a trolley.

  “I see you have enslaved this species and placed it in servitude,” said Pam, admiring the line of chained shopping trolleys. “Well done.”

  He was about to correct her misapprehension about the trolleys when she asked him, “What do we do now, little cuddle bear?”

  “What did you call me?”

  “I am practising my Earth terms of endearment,” said Pam. “I have memorised seventy-two discrete examples. Is this one not appropriate? Would you prefer some other designation – perhaps ‘fuzzy bunny’, or ‘Honigkuchenpferd’?”

  Gavin was about to ask what that meant but then he noticed Derek, who had wandered into the store and was in animated conversation with a bemused security guard. “Niki!” he hissed, drawing her attention to what was at the very least problematic and potentially a catastrophe.

  “Oh no…” she muttered, dashing inside.

  Gavin swiftly pushed the trolley after her, skidding to a stop beside the two men. Derek was in the midst of quizzing the guard.

  “Plasma disruptor? Meson cannon? Not even a pain-stick?”

  The guard drew himself up, trying to maintain a measure of professional courtesy. “As I’ve already said, sir, it is company policy not to arm its store security personnel.”

  “Ah, now I understand,” said Derek. “You are trained in the deadly art of Aldebaran Karate. A practitioner of that needs no weapon other than his hands, teeth and tail!” Crouching into a ready pose, Derek bared his teeth and emitted a low growl. Then, whipping his hands and arms through the air he challenged the guard. “Let’s see how well your brood-mother has trained you.”

  The security guard was an overweight middle-aged man in a uniform at least one size too small for him, and nothing in his life had prepared him for this encounter. Brass buttons strained across his generous belly as he backed away. Derek took that as an invitation to set off in pursuit and proceeded to chase him around a special offer on Quality Street, knocking over the towering tins with wild chops and kicks. The security guard tripped and fell flat on his well-padded stomach. Derek was about to leap on him to finish him off when Pam called across the store.

  “D’Rek, look here at this exhibit.”

  He broke off mid-pounce, immediately losing interest in the guard and wandering over to Pam in the fruit and vegetable aisle, where she perused the produce as if she was at an art gallery.

  Leaving Niki to offer her apologies to the stricken security man, Gavin hurried after her parents.

  “Be careful, they may be in their poisonous phase,” warned Derek on seeing his ex-wife leaning in to inspect the shelves.

  “They’re strawberries,” said Gavin.

  “Never trust any species that wears its seeds on the outside,” cautioned Derek.

  “D’Rek, do you remember?” said Pam with a wistful air.

  He did. Apparently, the strawberries reminded them of the first alien race they had conquered after they were married. For a moment Gavin was sure that he’d caught the two of them gazing fondly into one another’s eyes at the memory. But then Niki arrived, and it was as if steel shutters came down between them. They resumed their mutual wary dislike.

  “AAAAAH-CHOOO!” Derek let loose a roof-raising sneeze. It was so loud that other shoppers in the supermarket stopped in their tracks, and from two aisles along came the splinter of breaking glass.

  “Maybe you’re allergic to strawberries,” Gavin suggested.

  “It’s not the strawberries. It’s her.” He gestured to Pam, his face going into spasm as he built up to another sneeze.

  “I emit a natural pheromone to which he is allergic,” she said proudly.

  “Imagine discovering that on the night of your bonding ceremony,” he muttered, unleashing another shuddering sneeze. From another aisle came a second crash as yet more produce hit the floor. “She doesn’t have to emit, you know. Can turn it off and on like that.” He snapped his fingers.

  “Yes,” she purred, “but it makes you so delightfully furious.”

  For the next ten minutes the shopping expedition proceeded normally. Pam and Derek sniffed pineapples and squeezed avocados, and Derek declared lettuce part of the Zenobian empire. So, as normal as could be expected. While arguing over pasta, Gavin and Niki briefly lost track of her parents. They found Derek two aisles over surrounded by a thick carpet of cornflakes. They crunched underfoot as he pulled cereal boxes off the shelves, ripping them open and ruthlessly discarding their contents. Derek glanced up from an empty packet with a puzzled frown. “Where’s the Proton Pistol?”

  “They don’t have free gifts in them any more,” said Gavin.

  Derek tossed away the packet and reached for another. Other shoppers passing along the aisle were noticing his odd behaviour.

  “He’s drawing too much attention,” hissed Niki. “You need to distract him.”

  “Me?” Gavin was about to object when he remembered something that ought to grab his interest. “I’m reading your book,” he blurted.

  Derek dropped the cereal packet instantly. “You are?”

  “Oh yes.”

  The galactic tyrant spun a hand. “A-a-and?”

  “I’m at the bit about your great love –” He paused. “– Of immensely powerful weaponry.”

  Derek steepled his hands and placed them thoughtfully beneath his chin, affecting a look of immeasurable satisfaction.

  “Chapter Eighteen – Who Moved My High-Power Proton Zapper?” he began, quoting himself. “Augmented Anti-Matter Phaser. Armageddon Gravity Pistol. I love weapons, the more destructive the better. I even wanted to name my first-born after my favourite Omega Meson Ravager, but my partner advised me that it would result in our hatchling being mercilessly teased by her classmates. That was obviously unacceptable – the merciless teasing of my child is reserved only for her mother and me.”

  He raised his eyebrows at Gavin, clearly expecting some expression of admiration. Not sure what to say, Gavin instead launched into an uncertain round of applause.

  “Very … moving?”

  Derek beamed at the boy. For someone who had conquered the known galaxy he was remarkably susceptible to a modest amount of praise.

  “Speaking of my mother, where is Pam?” asked Niki.

  No sooner had she spoken than there came a scream from the next aisle and the unmistakable thud of a body hitting the floor.

  Chapter 25

  They bolted round the corner to discover Pam standing astride a middle-aged woman lying in a pool of suspicious red liquid.

  Gavin winced. “Blood?”

  “Tuscan tomato and basil,” said Niki, crouching down and pointing to the label on a smashed jar of pasta sauce.

  The woman was sprawled face-down beside her upended shopping trolley, its contents spilled across the floor. She moaned in pain.

  Gavin rounded on Pam. “What did you do to her?”

  “She left me no option.”

  “I’m really sorry,” he said to the fallen shopper, helping her up. “She’s from out of town.”

  “Gavin?” The woman met his gaze.

  Oh no. It was Mrs Walker, their neighbour. She and her husband played bridge with Mercedes and Sam every Thursday, believing them to be normal people and not a robot and a Leontine warrior. Brushing herself down, she cast a cautious eye over Pam and Derek.

  “Do you know these people?”

  “Umm, they’re … my uncle and aunt,” said Niki quickly. “Uncle Derek, Aunty Pam, this is Mrs Walker.”

  “Barbara,” said Mrs Walker, pointedly ignoring Pam and extending a hand in greeting to Derek, who gazed at the hand in confusion.

  Gavin urgently mimed at him to shake it and he gave a tiny nod of understanding.

  “And Bar-bara to you, earthling.” He beamed at Gavin proudly.

  Still puzzled, Mrs Walker turned to Niki. “How are your mum and dad? We missed them at bridge night this week.”

  “They’ve been sick,” lied Niki.

  “Oh dear,” said Mrs Walker.

  “Just a few sniffles,” she added.

  “Sniffles?!” Derek threw Pam in front of him like a shield. “They must be quarantined immediately. An unknown pathogen from this planet could do untold damage to my physiological integrity.”

  Mrs Walker leaned across to Gavin. “Where did you say they were from, dear?”

  “Might’ve known it’d be you lot again,” barked a familiar voice. It was the portly security guard. With a weary sigh he surveyed the mess on the floor and pulled at the walkie-talkie clipped to his waistband. “Bravo Two Zero to Control, another glass breakage. Aisle seven.”

  “He has alerted surveillance units to our presence,” scowled Pam. “If they comply with accepted military strategy they will follow up with drone missiles.” She lifted her head to scan for the expected strike.

  “I beg your pardon?” said Mrs Walker.

  “Then beg,” said Pam.

  A moment later a voice over the supermarket tannoy boomed, “Clean-up on aisle seven.”

  “Hear that?” cried Derek. “They propose to wipe us out!”

  “Wipe up,” Gavin corrected him.

  “Sir, madam, I’m going to have to ask you to leave the store,” said the guard.

  They ignored him, focused as they were on the anticipated missile strike. When they didn’t answer he sniffed, squared his shoulders and uttered the fateful words, “You two, I said hop it!”

  “Oh no,” Niki mumbled. “If there’s one thing you don’t do to a pair of megalomaniac rulers of the galaxy, it’s order them about.”

  Pam took a stride towards the guard, so close that he had to tilt his head back to meet her glowering gaze. “You dare speak to me like that? I who quashed the Zid uprising, laid waste to the Tarken hordes and toppled the impregnable fortress of Chorwirrn’s World?” She grabbed him by the lapels of his uniform jacket and lifted him up as easily as if she were plucking a jar of bolognaise from a shelf.

  “Oi, madam!” he said, legs kicking uselessly. “Put me down immediately!”

  Out of the corner of his eye Gavin saw Derek’s hand dip into a pocket and whip out a device no bigger than a mobile phone. But the detail that alarmed him was what looked suspiciously like a trigger.

  “I thought you took all his weapons,” he said to Niki.

  “So did I.”

  “Prepare to watch your insides shoot out of your orifices,” Derek snarled, levelling the device at the guard. “All of them.”

  “That’s not good,” said Niki, as the weapon gleamed under the supermarket lights. “It’s a Molecular Agitator.”

  Derek squeezed the trigger just as Niki dived at him, knocking him sideways and spoiling his aim. A spiralling red beam shot out of the weapon, raking along shelves filled with jars of pasta sauce. The glass jars glowed red-hot and began to vibrate, clinking against each other so that the air was suddenly filled with a high-pitched ringing.

  “What’s going on?” The security guard gaped. “What did you do?”

  The contents of the first bottle bubbled up and its lid popped off.

  “Out,” commanded Niki. “Evacuate the store.”

  Mrs Walker looked at Gavin in confusion. “I would do as she says,” he urged.

  With a brisk nod, Mrs Walker abandoned her shopping trolley and bolted off down the aisle.

  Along the shelf, lids flew off bottles and super-heated sauces fountained over the sides. The molecular agitator caused the volume to double in exponential leaps. Lethal sauces flowed into the aisle without stopping.

  Pam lowered the guard to the floor. As soon as his shiny shoes hit the linoleum, he scarpered, pressing the walkie-talkie to his lips. “Emergency Code Ninety-Nine! Ninety-Nine – yes! The entire store! RIGHT NOW!”

  “Yes, earthling, run,” Pam called smugly after him. “Run and tell your masters that the Skerlon Overlord has dominion over this Tesco now.”

  “Not a chance!” Derek objected. “I claim it for the Zenobian Reach!”

  Bolognaise, carbonara, pesto and amatriciana flowed like molten lava. Niki and Gavin ran ahead of the spreading sauces, yelling at people to flee for their lives. As they herded the other shoppers to the exit, a whine of static stabbed across the store, as if someone in a hurry was fumbling for a microphone. A new tannoy announcement boomed out. The voice was losing its cool. “Would all shoppers please leave the store immediately. I repeat, leave the store right away! Abandon ship!”

  Derek gleefully waved the Molecular Agitator, strafing the shelves on either side of him. Every bottle was blowing its top and the force of the explosions was making everything worse. The shelves rocked to and fro, until they reached a tipping point and fell over, crashing against those in adjacent aisles, creating a domino effect that rippled out across the store. At that point the lake of sauce reached the electrics. The overhead lights began to flicker and pop, and the aroma of garlic was overpowering. Screaming shoppers abandoned their trolleys and fled the encroaching sauce-pocalypse.

  At the exit, the security guard shepherded people safely out of the store. Bart appeared from among the escaping shoppers, clutching a basket filled with health foods and a single incongruous packet of salt and vinegar Chipsticks. He looked at Niki with a thoughtful expression. “Y’know, I think someone might be using a Molecular Agitator.”

  “No kidding,” she said. “C’mon. This way.”

  She and Bart ran past Gavin, shouting at him to get out. He made to follow them, but stopped when he saw Derek and Pam pause next to a display of freshly cut flowers. They were surveying the destruction they’d caused, their eyes shining with vicious delight. The soft drinks aisle went up with a series of fizzing booms, and as the overhead lights sparked like fireworks, Gavin watched Derek reach for the largest and most colourful bouquet of tulips. With one swipe he ripped off the flower heads and offered the bunch of stalks to Pam. She took them, crammed the bare stalks into her mouth and began to chew. The two of them stood amid the devastation, gazing into one another’s eyes.

  Chapter 26

  “No way,” Niki said flatly. “You must be mistaken.”

  Gavin had waited until they’d returned Pam and Derek safely to number forty-six (and signed them up to a home delivery app, with express instructions not to atomise the delivery driver) before telling Niki what he’d seen as they fled the supermarket. They were in the hallway when he informed her of the tender moment Pam and Derek had shared, only for her to emphatically reject his version of events.

  “Your understanding of our sophisticated extraterrestrial behaviour is primitive. I mean, you’re the planet that thought a good idea for a greeting would be to shake hands!”

  Honestly, why did he put up with her? “Fine,” he said, folding his arms. “I’m just a grunting caveman who cannot possibly comprehend your ways, oh, wondrous and annoying one.”

  “It is possible that Gavin is correct,” said Bart tentatively.

  Niki’s plan relied on her parents being at each other’s throats, not presenting each other with bouquets. “Two beings as evil as those two don’t fight each other for control of the galaxy, only to make up over a bunch of carnations.”

  “Tulips,” Gavin corrected her. She glowered at him. “Not important,” he mumbled.

  Cupcake swanned into the hallway. “You’re back. Did you get my smoked salmon?”

  Niki ignored the question and stormed upstairs to her room. She needed space to think.

  “What about my cheese puffs?” the bounty hunter called after her, before turning to Gavin. “What’s up with her?”

  “You mean apart from being a stuck-up princess who always thinks she’s right?”

  He followed Niki, leaving Cupcake below moaning to Bart about its unfulfilled shopping list. Gavin caught up with Niki on the small landing outside her bedroom. Music was coming from the other side of the closed door.

  “It’s Cubic Parsec,” she said.

  “Yeah,” said Gavin. It was the most popular song of the moment, at the top of every playlist. “That one’s even reached us cave dwellers.”

  “No.” She threw the door wide. “I mean … it’s Cubic Parsec.”

  He looked past her through the open doorway. In the small, sloped-ceiling bedroom under the eaves was a narrow bed, a hastily assembled chest of drawers and four skinny young men with gaunt, handsome faces. Two played guitars, one banged away at a drum kit squeezed between the back wall and Niki’s dressing table, while the fourth member of the band stood at the end of her bed, cupping a microphone to his pillowy lips, murmuring the lyrics to “Energy Efficient Window To My Soul”.

  “It’s Cubic Parsec,” repeated Gavin dully, his entire body too stunned to share any of its surprise with his voice. He shut his eyes, waited several seconds and opened them again. The band was still there. Contrary to their published tour schedule – and to any rational world-view – the most famous pop group on the planet was in Middling.

  In Niki’s bedroom.

  “Ah, hatchling, I see you have found my gift.”

  Niki spun at the sound of her mum’s self-satisfied voice. Pam was taking the stairs with long-limbed strides, her leather boots squeaking with every step, as if she was walking on gerbils.

  “You did this?” said Niki.

  “Of course,” smiled Pam. “Isn’t this what a loving mother does for her offspring?”

  “We should probably talk about boundaries,” suggested Niki.

 

1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 10 11 12 13 14 15 16 17 18 19 20