Sideshow Alley Read online

  The news clip came to an end and the lights turned back up.

  ‘Well, what do you think?’ asked Ralph.

  ‘It’s just like the wars we have at home really, except for the space bit,’ Colin said.

  ‘You’re right about that,’ Ralph agreed.

  ‘How do they get all of the action on film?’ Dave asked.

  ‘Good question. They deploy drone satellites in each action so they can monitor the fighting. They’re also used by the fighters as a navigational aid, which is a good thing—because sometimes the Lizards get too pre-occupied in trying to knock them out and leave themselves open.’

  ‘So are we supposed to fly those craft?’ Tiddles asked.

  ‘No, that’s what the Zylons are here for. Come and I’ll introduce you.’

  Ralph led them over to a nearby group of Zylons.

  ‘Do you mind if we join you a moment?’ he asked.

  There were six Zylons in all, their features the same as the Earthmen, except for their green tinged flesh.

  One of them indicated the seats before them with a sweeping gesture of his hand.

  Ralph reached across to offer his hand and the Zylon shook it.

  ‘The name’s Ralph and these are some of the new intake. I’ve been telling them what to expect.’

  The Zylon laughed and introduced himself, ‘My name is Eric and this is Kyla, Dag, Jens, Anders and Olaf.’

  Ralph turned to Colin, ‘I’ll let you do the honours.’

  Colin held his hand out and Eric shook it as he introduced himself and the others in turn.

  ‘That Colonel is a magician if he can turn raw recruits like these into fighters,’ Dag commented.

  ‘That he is,’ Ralph agreed, ‘and he’ll do it in ten days, you watch him. I gather you’re some of the new pilots?’

  Anders nodded, ‘We were in the first wave to come aboard. The second should be arriving sometime tomorrow.’

  ‘You were ferried in by transport I take it?’ Ralph asked.

  ‘But of course,’ Olaf confirmed.

  The boys looked on wide-eyed at the fact they were sitting at a table conversing with aliens. Like them they were young, but self assured, and had the advantage of already being trained. Colin couldn’t keep his eyes off Kyla—she was beautiful. The blue pilot coveralls she wore hugged her body, while jet black hair framed her green face and blue eyes.

  Ralph shook Colin’s shoulder.

  ‘Hey, wake up. Eric was just asking what you did back on earth.’

  Before he answered, Colin noticed the hint of a smile on Kyla’s face.

  ‘Except for Jimmy and Pee Wee, we’re all unemployed. We haven’t really found anything to fire up our interest. Pee Wee’s still at school and Jimmy works part time at a fast food outlet.’

  ‘So what is it that you do exactly?’ Dag asked, perplexed.

  Colin shrugged and thought for a moment, ‘There’s nothing much to do, except maybe play guitar, games and the internet.’

  He could see the Zylons suck in their breath. Obviously they didn’t like what they heard.

  ‘Just what sort of games do you play?’ Jens asked, alarmed.

  ‘Shoot em-up games of every kind I guess, we all do. That’s what’s got us into trouble,’ Colin said, philosophically.

  ‘What sort of trouble?’ Jens persisted.

  ‘Here. That’s what brought us here. Each of us was selected on our ability to play.’

  ‘Ha!’ Jens said, greatly relieved, ‘in other words you have been training for years and the Colonel is now utilising those skills.’

  He banged the table with his fist, ‘Absolutely brilliant!’

  ‘You fellows better head off to bed, you have a big day ahead of you,’ Ralph advised them.

  The boys rose and said their goodbyes before departing back to their quarters to hopefully sleep and dream.

  Induction

  Colin had a restless night. He dreamt that he was back at the show with Tiddles in Sideshow Alley again. Clown faces and hideous forms lined the way, while music from the merry-go-round played over the loudspeakers—the spruikers adding to the cacophony as they competed to be heard above the frenzied crowd.

  The boys walked the length of the alley until at last they could see the tent at the end and the Colonel outside leering at them. There was something odd about the tent, something foreboding as he did his best to entice them in—but fear gripped their hearts and they were rooted to the spot.

  At 0600 hours a shrill whistle sounded over the P.A. to rouse them from their troubled slumber. It was followed by a string of commands as various crew members were called for duty, including a reminder for the new intake to report to the fighters’ mess by 0800 hours. Several of the older crew were there to see that the bunks were made and stowed in the upright position. They explained that this was so no bedding would be tossed around in the event of being attacked, damaged or worse—and impede damage control.

  Colin waited until the others had squared their bedding away and then joined them when they went next door to wash before trooping down to the mess. Once there they lined up and went through the servery for a meal.

  ‘Well, we’re still here. It wasn’t a dream,’ Dave said, when seated.

  Colin looked around at the different recruits. One or two looked familiar, although they all seemed to have accepted their fate. Perhaps they were hanging out like them to see more and have a crack at the end game. He tucked into the cereal plus sausages and eggs on offer, not knowing what was in the sausages or what planet they came from—they were mystery bags at the best of times and the eggs probably powdered, but at least they were edible.

  After breakfast the six friends sat around nursing cups of coffee while waiting for their induction to begin. They watched on idly as the Zylon pilots and older fighters vacated the mess.

  The Colonel didn’t disappoint them. He strode in at precisely 0800 hours and went straight to the microphone on the lectern.

  ‘Now listen up everyone. I hope you had a sound night’s sleep and a big breakfast because we have a lot of work to get through today, so that by tonight you will actually start to look like Weapon Officers.’

  ‘Day two will be a series of intensive lectures to familiarise you with military life and other aspects of this ship. On day three you will begin weapons training and then on that afternoon be paired off with a Zylon pilot and assigned a fighter craft. By day four you will be doing mock sorties and the days after divided between lessons on tactics and live firing—so that by day ten your transformation will have been complete and you’ll be posted to the front-line. I kid you not!’

  He paused to let it sink in before continuing.

  ‘Now in the military, as anywhere, there are basic rules that apply. Rule number one is that we are all on the same team. There will be no fighting between yourselves or any other galactic race that makes up this force. We all have a duty to perform and any unruly behaviour will be dealt with on the spot, so save your aggression for the Lizard Men!’

  He paused again and motioned to three crew members who waited at the rear. They came at the trot and lined up to one side of him.

  ‘In front of you gentlemen are but a few of the other races that go to make up the Galactic Legion. The fellow to my left is Karl, and he hails from Prathkos. Karl and others from his planet are the policemen and guards of the Legion, and it would be a very foolish man that went against them. Next along we have a citizen of Zylon, whom you should all know about by now. They will be the pilots that take you into battle and back again—that is if you gentlemen can keep the heat off them. So you see that when you are teamed up, your pilot will be your new best friend and vice versa. There can be no room for animosity in such a close-knit unit, it simply will not work. Is that clear? I will add that unlike you, these pilots have trained all their lives and volunteered for this honour.’

  ‘Standing next to the pilot is Phoebe, a hostess from the planet of Lemur. These people are non-violent and e
asy prey for the Lizard Men. But although not fighters, they still fill an important role within the legion and are here to serve and comfort our Pilots and Weapon Officers in times of stress or when the adrenalin is still pumping on their return. They will be treated with the utmost respect that they so rightly deserve, is that clear?’ the Colonel asked, while viewing the intake before him.

  A smile sprang to Colin’s face as on most of those present and a murmur rippled throughout the mess. The Lemur was of medium height and slim build, with brown hair and black eyes. A small pink vest adorned her torso and beneath it a grey body stocking that revealed every intimate detail of her body. She also possessed a long black tail which she held in one hand—it twitched mischievously and held them all mesmerised.

  As if reading their minds the Colonel added, ‘That tail is something else, isn’t it? I’ve heard tell that Phoebe can do things with it that would blow your mind, but I’m afraid it would make me blush to tell you about them.’

  ‘That will be all, thank you,’ he said, dismissing the three crew members.

  ‘As well as the three Races you have just seen, there are others who do such things as the catering—they come from Xylanthes. Then there are the Karen, who man the Carrier’s defences, to name but a few. Every crew member aboard this ship has a job to do and they do it well. They all come from different planets and remember—to them it is you who might look strange. Now it is up to you to validate their existence by doing the job designated to you, otherwise everything they’ve done will have been in vain.’

  ‘There is one thing I haven’t mentioned and something we are justifiably proud of here on this ship—our gymnasium and library facilities are second to none in the galaxy, so make good use of them. Thank you for your time, Gentlemen. Enjoy your stay. Now I will hand you over to Captain Jorgen, who will be supervising your training.’ He conversed with the Captain briefly before leaving.

  The Captain stepped up to the mike.

  ‘As you’ve been told, my name is Captain Jorgen and as you can see, I hail from Zylon. In a moment I will be handing you over to twelve Team Leaders who will break you up into teams of ten and work with you for the next few days. If you have any gripes, see them and if they can’t sort it, they will see me. Good luck.’

  The Team Leaders took it in turns to call out their charges and once assembled, led them away to commence their induction. In their wisdom they broke the six friends up, each going with a different team, including Pee Wee.

  Each team worked to a schedule, performing different aspects of the induction so as to avoid wasting time in a queue. Colin’s first port-of-call was the barber. He knew it was coming and sat silently as some alien ran a handpiece over his head, taking the dark shoulder length hair he had spent years growing and was so much a part of his persona. He watched as it fell about him—somehow it wasn’t as important now. It didn’t fit in his new surroundings and he accepted the fact. As well as cutting their hair, another barber shaved their faces clean, whether needed or not.

  When the last man was through they were taken to the medical centre, where they stripped down to their underwear. The alien medical staff there pulled and poked them. They took blood samples and scanned them from head to toe—including orally, with a hand held device before entering the gathered information straight into a computer. When finished they dressed again and were taken to be kitted out, then led back to the locker room next to their sleeping quarters and issued with keys.

  ‘That’s it for this morning. Stow your kit and change into your uniforms. Put all the clothes that you’re wearing in the locker also, you can wash them at your leisure, then report back to me in the fighters’ mess at 1300 hours,’ Vince, their Team Leader said, before departing.

  When he was gone the talking started.

  ‘I really don’t get it,’ one fellow said, ‘we’re up here in space and it’s full of aliens.’

  ‘Who cares,’ said another, ‘did you get a load of Phoebe? I’ve got to get me some of that tail.’

  ‘Yeah, you and everyone else,’ someone replied.

  By the time Colin had stowed his gear it was already lunchtime. He quickly changed into his blue coveralls and went to the mess, leaving the rest of his group still farting about in the locker room. The other fellows were already there and didn’t recognise him when he sat. Dave and Tiddles had their hair cut as well, but hadn’t been kitted out, while Jimmy had and looked dorky with the uniform and long hair.

  ‘Are their any dramas so far?’ Colin asked.

  They all shook their heads.

  ‘What about you, Pee Wee? I thought you would have been teleported to Prathkos by now.’

  Pee Wee ignored him and continued eating.

  Colin noticed a group of Zylons at the next table over. Kyla was among them and he watched her out of the corner of his eye as she conversed with Eric.

  ‘What did you think of the Lemur this morning?’ Jimmy asked.

  ‘Not bad I suppose.’

  ‘Your sister Rhonda is better looking than her,’ Tiddles informed him.

  The other boys laughed and agreed.

  ‘Thanks. If I ever get back I’ll tell her.’

  The older fighters who had returned to the ship kept to themselves and occupied several tables in the far corner of the mess. They were the remnants of the previous intake that had signed on for a second hitch. Now bonded by blood and battle they talked in low monotones, stopping whenever someone approached.

  The Zylons revered them. Towards the end of each meal break they would join the fighters at their table to enquire about lost friends and listened attentively as the fighters recounted the battle in which they fell. The new pilots recognised the Earthmen by their tags of wing, position and colour. They pressed them about other battles as well as information regarding their pilots, who had taken leave elsewhere and now waited to rejoin them.

  After lunch the induction continued, ending early in the afternoon. Afterwards Vince took them on a tour of the gymnasium, virtual library, planetarium and hangar—which was situated above their mess. They were just in time to see the last of the new pilots ferry their fighters across from the Supply Carrier. The ten new recruits looked on intently from the gallery deck overlooking the hangar.

  ‘You’re looking at state-of-the-art craft bristling with pulse laser-cannon and magazines filled with every kind of rocket imaginable, including a proton torpedo, if you ever get the chance to use it,’ Vince explained.

  ‘What’s it like out there?’ Colin asked.

  ‘It’s magic, but once in battle it’s kill or be killed—pause and you’re dead,’ he stared off into space before adding, ‘the life of your pilot and everyone around you is in your hands.’

  Colin stood gazing down through the canopies of the small sleek craft and breathed it all in. He couldn’t wait to go out in one, despite the sombre warning.

  Vince took them back to the fighters’ mess to show them the noticeboard there. He pointed out such things as drills, ship’s standing orders, duty watches and amendments as they were promulgated in daily orders. It held other information as well, such as the nightly films. He also informed them of the beer ration served nightly from the mess and then told them to report back there again at 0800 hours before dismissing them.

  Colin went to his quarters. He pulled his bunk down and clambered up onto it, opting for at least a couple of minutes quiet-time before the others returned. He thought about what his family would be thinking right now—if they missed him or not. In all probability they wouldn’t he surmised. More than likely they were fuming at the fact that he’d pissed off in the first place and who could blame them. The truth was he had gotten lax since leaving school, probably even before then—sleeping over at Tiddles’ place or Jimmy’s without phoning home. No, it would be at least a week or two before they realised he wasn’t coming home at all.

  One by one the others returned. By now they were all in uniform and minus their hair. He hardly recognised Tiddles
—as well as everything else he was without his glasses. During his medical the surgeons had done corrective laser surgery. The Colonel had been right about everything and Colin looked forward to the days and year ahead. He rested on his bunk as the others talked beneath him and then joined them when they went for the evening meal. On reaching the mess they found it now filled to capacity with the arrival of the new pilots.

  It seemed that the other beings on board all had messes of their own for leisure and meal-times—leaving this one purely for the fighters and pilots. However as a result of catering for the different races onboard there was always a large variety of meals to choose from. Some were purely vegetarian like the Zylons, while others enjoyed a diverse range of meats, poultry and fish—whereas the crew members from Earth enjoyed it all.

  Kyla was there as usual and owing to the absence of other females in the mess, most of the new intake had dubbed her the Green Goddess behind her back. Everyone agreed on one thing and that was her beauty, but it seemed Eric was the lucky recipient of her attention.

  After the meal the boys took their plates up to the wash-point to scrape and leave them there before returning to their quarters to sit on their bunks and talk. Several others drifted by and joined in the discussion about their predicament—none of them being overly concerned anymore. Like Colin and his friends they had all accepted their fate and looked forward to the challenges ahead.

  ‘What’s on tonight, anything worth watching?’ Jimmy asked.

  ‘Moby Dick,’ Colin informed them.

  ‘Great, let’s do it,’ said Barry.

  They started to go, but Colin stayed put on his bunk.

  ‘Are you coming?’ Tiddles asked.