Spin steals the software that starts the universe.

THREE. The Great Paintings; the first to panic.

 Spin mounted the curb to park. He showed Reuben the car's reversing camera which was hardly a new feature and of absolutely no interest to Reuben whatsoever. They stared at the screen watching the ominous looking white van that had been following them stop a little way back. Spin said, "It's a fantastic camera. You can see so much detail. That front dent. The guy with that Nosferatu face. Everything. Pity it only works when reversing."

"Yes. If it was on full time you could see who was behind you. Of course you'd crash into what was in front of you, I suppose."

"Not if you had a forward facing camera mounted next to it."

"Brilliant."

It was a ten minute walk to the gallery which was located in an industrial park that had lost many of its light engineering businesses and was largely abandoned. Spin had parked some distance away because of Rueben's comments on the visibility of his car. He didn't want anyone remembering it.

The gallery, like most of the buildings on the trading estate, was constructed in grey concrete block and sheet metal. Spin checked the cars already parked for the exhibition to gauge level of wealth of the art connoisseurs. He wasn't impressed. Inside, he appraised the space partly as architect and partly as thief. It was a big white volume with a silver foil insulated ceiling, a few chipped paint steel columns and a cracked concrete floor which had been painted grey fifty years ago. Artwork was displayed on re-purposed ply packing cases. So, he thought, cheap aesthetics and non-existent security.

The owner was an ex-rugby player called Emil who greeted Reuben with a smile that lacked half its teeth. Those that remained were gilt edged. Not so much theatre, Spin thought, as pantomime. When Reuben asked if the artist he was exhibiting was a good investment Emil tilted a hand one way then the other. "If people like you buy a Scracci then she's a good investment." He patted Reuben's arm as he moved on.

Scracci's paintings were re-imaginings of The Great Paintings. They stood in front of a small version of Van Gogh's 'sunflowers' and studied it. Reuben said, "You think Grace would like this one?"

Spin said, "I think so. It manages to counterpoint decoration with a sense of zeitgeist foreboding. The sunflower clearly represents populism thriving in a garden of greed which in turn is represented by the virulent, violet, violent weeds."

Reuben gave Spin a cool, cynical look. Spin eventually shrugged.

The sunflowers' gaze followed Spin around the room with perseverance. He said, "So you really are?"

"What?"

"Going to marry Matilda."

Reuben smiled one of his repertoire of easy, bright white, straight teeth but attractively slanted smiles and said, "I may as well. I have the one thing that will make Matilda happy."

"Money?"

"Yes."

"Still, there's no hurry."

"There might be. Things are moving rapidly I think. My ship is detecting a lot of alien activity over this stupid USB stick." He looked at Spin's neck.

"Your ship?"

"Yes. Spaceship."

"Of course."

"How do you think I got here?"

"To be honest, I hadn't given it much thought."

"It's time you did. Your planet is being - I was going to say invaded, but infested is probably better. Your planet is being infested with aliens. And not all of them are as friendly as me."