Flight of the Gazebo

Chapter 18 - Picking up the Pieces

There was a chilly edge to the atmosphere in the bunker. Montgomery-Jones had made it clear to Red and Shiner that under no circumstances were they to turn on the heaters. The generators were there to power the machine tools and the precious diesel fuel - the lifeblood of the generators - was not to be wasted merely warming the underground rooms. Red had ignored the instructions and switched on the heaters, anyway.

"Who the fuck does 'e think 'e is?" he said and slammed his hand on the tabletop, sending the empty coffee mugs into a short jittery dance. "Eh? We're the ones doin' all the fuckin' work round 'ere. We need to keep warm. 'E don't do nuffink."

Shiner's forehead furrowed. "Ain't 'e doin' stuff to get us back 'ome?"

"So 'e sez. But all we 'ave is his word about that. He sure as 'ell ain't been down 'ere wiv us making parts for wot 'e sez is a machine wot'll take us 'ome. I mean, 'ave you taken a gander at this shit?"

Red's arm swept in an arc, indicating the pile of drawings on the table and the bits and pieces lying on the floor.

A confused expression crept across the parts of Shiner's face visible above his beard. "'Course I 'ave. I is 'elpin' make it, ain't I?"

"You sure are, Shiner ol' son. You sure are. But I ain't seen you questionin' any of it."

"Wot do you mean?"

"It's bloody obvious! Can't you see? It ain't a machine at all! It's just a fuckin' jumped up garden shed."

Shiner contorted his face into an expression he thought would make him look like he knew what Red meant.

"Don't nod yer fuckin' head," said Red. "You ain't got a clue wot I'm talkin' about. Look, machines 'as got wires, motors an' pipes an' stuff; switches fer turnin' it on an' off; levers an' dials; one of them digital displays. This ain't got nothin'. It's just a load of wood and metal."

"But Mr Monty sez it's a machine wot the alien said is a spaceship or summink."

"Does it look like a spaceship to you? Anyway, did you see the alien? I sure as 'ell didn't. I ain't gonna argue we is somewhere strange 'cos I seen the fuckin' great cliff around the village wot wasn't there before we came 'ere. And the sun ain't the same neither. But none o' the stuck up fuckers in Amblesby will speak to us an' all we got to go on is wot yer Mr fuckin' Monty is tellin' us. I ain't so s-"

A clanking noise behind him caused him to break off and turn to face the thick blast proof door that was the entrance to the workshop. The handle turned and the heavy door swung open on well-oiled hinges.

"How is it going, my good men?" said Montgomery-Jones. He was dressed in a spotless hunting jacket and crisply creased trousers. He cast his eye over the beams laid out on the floor. "I see you've made some progress."

"No thanks to you," said Red. "We've been workin' our arses off dahn 'ere while you been fuckin' about in the village. Where 'ave you been, anyway? We're starvin'."

"I've been greasing the wheels of opportunity as it happens. In any case, it's no concern of yours where I've been or what I'm doing. I'm giving you free board and lodging in return for a few hours' work. You do as I say or you'll find yourself begging door to door in the village."

"Told yer 'e was doin' stuff," said Shiner. "'Ope yer didn't get no grease on that fancy jacket, Mr Monty."

"'E ain't bin greasin' nuffink, you plonker," said Red. "It's just an' expression. Wot 'e means is 'e's been talkin' shit wiv people. An' annuver thing, it ain't just board an' lodgin' we're gettin'. You promised to make us rich when we get back 'ome too."