Spin steals the software that starts the universe.

ONE. A game of Scrabble; amazing good looks; human emotions are fascinating.

High Command to Corporalissimo 3rd class codename 'Reuben'.

FYEO

Security Level: Maclean

Your Corporalissimo status has been increased from level three to level one.

Congratulations.

You are now cleared for the following information/orders.

The utterly despicable, murdering, loathsome Thespers are trying to locate the so-called 'ALICE' software. This is the software responsible for creating the universe, or so the dissembling, luxury-loving crypto wimps from The Cool think and, unusually, may possibly be right for the first time but we won't go into that. And those two entities are not the only ones chasing the Alice software which should rightfully be ours and proves that the laws governing the universe are warped and prejudiced against us or we would already have thought it up ourselves and we need to adjust them accordingly. Anyway, we have a credible source from inside The Cool that indicates several hostile idiots have learnt about the Alice code and are already on Earth to locate it. The Cool believes that the code will ultimately enable time travel. Or already has. Typical Cool hedging. Anyway, it's down to you, Korporalissimo Reuben, to prevent the code falling into hostile possession and secure it for ourselves. Attached you will find a detailed assessment to assist you in your mission. Best if you don't fail, especially if you already have.

We remain your devoted superiors in a command sense but not of course in an individual sense where we are all equal.

Reuben read the message then printed it out so he could have the pleasure of scrunching the paper into a ball and throwing it into the waste paper bin, which he did.

*

 18 days before Spin had the good fortune to be murdered, he and Reuben went to a café for a game of Scrabble.

The café was called Social Mobility and since it was located in a part of the city that wasn't yet socially mobile, Spin assumed the owner was being ironic, or maybe just hopelessly optimistic. Outside the café there were two old formica tables with even older wooden chairs and some bicycles, one of them with 'Social Mobility' hand painted on its frame in pink and blue letters. Inside, the bar and tables were made of formed concrete with holes patched with yellowing resin.

Unsurprisingly, the café was cheap. Spin's architectural practice hadn't made much money for a while and he had been too cowardly to invoice his psychopath client André - the Thesper who was going to kill him - for months. Not that he had done any work for André for months.

Reuben glided into Social Mobility seeming hardly to touch the ground. He had the aura of someone from a very sophisticated civilisation. Any space traveller would have recognised him as an alien. The space traveller - the Earthling who had developed the ALICE code - sitting in the café certainly did.

Spin followed doing an impression of a clockwork automaton with missing cogs. He tripped because his inexpensive work boots, bought online, were too large for him. Reuben stopped him falling flat on his face.

Inside, budget priced customers glanced at them as they entered and then they gazed, gasping for air, at wonderful-looking Reuben. This was so normal it barely registered with Spin. Reuben was dressed as a London banker from the nineteen fifties; pin striped, three-piece suit; white shirt and a blue tie with a diagonal silver stripe; polished Oxford shoes. (Bear had hidden his bowler hat and black umbrella and Reuben had been unable to find them.) He also glowed with that aura that only comes with extreme wealth. Spin thought the effect was ruined by Reuben's dark, slicked back hair which made him, in Spin's opinion, look so smooth as to teeter on the precipice of sleaze. It didn't matter. Sleazy or not everyone got palpitations, sparkly eyes and smiled a lot when Reuben was close.