The UFO in my Garden: Part 3.
Click here to read All Parts
The next day I decided I had to just get on with life, though I had enjoyed the meals that Geraldine 'synthesised' in Snixat's ship, I felt the need to look after myself. For all the excitement of the previous day, having a real life UFO in my garden had turned out more like having a hippy squatting in my garden shed, rather than the blockbuster movie that I had imagined in my head.
I left the house and locked the door behind me, turned around, and was confronted by Jamie from three doors up, who was leaning on his bike.
"What you hiding in your garden?" he asked, with his usual admirably direct, but profoundly irritating manner.
My immediate reaction was denial, but on past experience Jamie generally took a denial as confirmation. So I took a less direct approach, "What makes you think I'm hiding anything in my garden?" I asked, and started walking down the road to the corner shop.
"You've had the same sheet hanging on your washing line for a week." he said. Walking along behind me pushing his bike, "You always do that when you don't want me to see your garden from my window."
There are many eternal questions in the universe, what the origin is of the uncanny ability of delinquent eleven year olds to see through adult deceptions: is one of them. I made a mental note to change the sheet.
I was busy trying to think of a convincing reason I might have left a sheet out on the line for a week, but before I could come up with an answer Jamie said, "My Dad thinks your growing dope, cos he keeps smelling it."
This made me anxious, since a visit from the local constabulary was the last thing I wanted, and who knows where that would lead. But this did give me an opening to divert Jamie. "Nah, that just number 18, everybody round here knows that."
"That's 6 doors from us." Said Jamie, "we don't usually smell it from there."
"Well it's certainly not me." I said truthfully, silently cursing Snixat. And feeling relieved the corner shop, and with it sanctuary from Jamies interrogation, was in sight.
"What was all the shouting orders about yesterday?" Jaime asked with his irritating persistance.
"I really don't know." I said, again at least 95% truthfully, and realised that knowing very little about Snixat and the huge extended universe he inhabited made fibbing about it very easy indeed.
Finally my hand grasped the door handle to the corner shop, and for a fleeting moment I had a degree of empathy with Julian Assange Reaching the Ecuadorian Embassy. "Goodbye Jamie," I said, adding, "Keep out of trouble now."
Jamie could, of course, followed me into the shop. But I knew as well as he did, that the subject of 3 Mars bars, a magazine and a tube of superglue would have been raised by Mr Singh the shopkeeper the moment he saw Jamie's face.
Unfortunately inside the shop was not much better, as I was immediately accosted by the 'professor'. What he was a professor of, no one was quite sure, although the consensus was he must be retired, because of his age. Nor did anyone know where he was actually from, since his accent was vaguely mid-European, but difficult to pin down to any particular national identity. At one moment one might imagine he was Polish or Russian, at another German, on one occasion it had seemed to me to veer as far West as French.
Like all old professors he bore a resemblance to Albert Einstein.This was due in no small part to his dress sense which was several decades out of date. It had never been clear to me whether this is an affectation of old professors, or just a natural consequence of being a professor, and growing old.
"Ah, just ze person I vanted to talk to." He said
"What about?" I said uncertainly.
"I am puzzled by readings I haf detected from your property in ze last few dayz. Zese suggest zere iz some quite unusual radiation coming from somevere." his eyebrows raised above his round spectacles.
I hadn't really thought about this possibility and my anxiety was immediately raised by the use of the word 'Radiation', without really thinking too much, I asked, "Er is it dangerous?"
"Oh no, I do not zink zere is any danger, but it iz really very unusual, und I vondered if I could come round und take ze clozer readingz?"
I was a little non-plussed by this, and did not really know what to say, in the end I just said, "What kind of radiation?"
"Zat iz qvite comlicated to explain," he said, "It involves somezing called 'exotic matter', and strictly speaking I should not be detecting it at all."
I abandoned standing and talking to him face to face, on the premise that if I carried on with my shopping, he would take the hint and wander off to do whatever it was that odd professors normally do. I guess I knew this wouldn't work, he was renowned for pursuing a topic until it was resolved to his. satisfaction.
"It vould really help if I could take ze closer look," he said, following me down the aisle, "I zink it might help if I pointed out zat zis iz not just ze accademic interest. I haf for some time now had ze small problem, und ze radiation I haf detected in your garden vould potentially provide a zolution for me." he paused again, before adding, "I vould deem it a very large favour, und vould be very grateful."
I added a four pint carton of milk to my basket, next to the butter a loaf of bread and a box of tea bags. I made a mental note not to forget the sugar and jam. I had the oddest feeling that I knew where this was going. My life had been so strange since Snixat had landed his ship in my garden, odd and alien was the only direction this conversation could go.
I looked at the professor, who was looking at me over the top of his round glasses, with fiercely intelligent eyes, and I realised that he really did look exceptionally like Einstein, and I guessed that if I googled a picture of the master of relativity, himself that the resemblance would be much more that just a passing one. "Your him aren't you" I said.
"Ah, I zee you begin to underztand" the professor said, "No: not exactly, zough you are, shall ve say, 'in ze right ball park'."
"You al;ready know what is in my garden don't you?" I said, standing there holding my basket, in what must have seemed like a rather resigned way.
"Vell lets just say I haf had my zuspicions fore zome days now. Und if it is zo, zen it vould zolve a rather particular problem of mine." he struck his legs with the gloves he was holding.
At this point I had metaphorically thrown up my hands and said 'what the hell', though being English of course this is something I would never do in reality. " Fine I said, just let me pay for my shopping and I will introd .. . er.. Show you my garden."
Mr Singh, looked at us as though we were insane. And the possibility that this was the case crossed my mind, but if so, it was the most interesting delusion I could have imagined. The irony that a minute or two ago, I had been wondering how to avoid the unwanted interest of the local constabulary, and was now inviting someone I hardly knew into my newly complicated life, did not escape me.
On the way back to my house, and what I now wondered might be becoming my infamous garden, we talked very little other than to mention how the weather was somewhat overcast but at least wasn't raining. which is frankly about the most English thing two people can do.
I opened my front door and invited the professor in, he said 'zank you,' and we walked through the house, I unlocked the back door, walked out waited for the door in empty air to open, and once it had walked inside. In retrospect it was possibly the most absurd thing I had done in the last ten days, and considering that I had made friends with a stoned hippy alien, the somewhat alien representation of his ship, and almost been arrested by six inch high yellow alien policemen that was saying something.
Snixat was still exploring you-tube, and the strains of Joni Mitchells 'From both sides now' were suffusing the ship, as was the usual aroma of Snixat's Joint. Fortunately Snixat was not attempting vocal accompaniment on this occasion.
Geraldine appeared, looked at the Professor and said, "Oh you wonderful boy, that's fantastic," rushed over to me and kissed me full on the lips, adding, "However did you find him?" we should be off this planet in no time now."
This was unnerving for several reasons, firstly the 'desktop' today was a rather skimpy policewoman's 'uniform', with truncheon and handcuffs. Secondly women in such revealing attire have rarely rushed over to kiss me, less often these days. Thirdly her somewhat cat like eyes were rather unsettling up close. And lastly it hadn't occurred to me that a 'hologram' could have a physical presence. Which is a little odd considering I have watched enough Star Trek, and Red Dwarf to have encountered the idea of a 'hard light hologram' before.
Snixat had been sitting back in his chair with his eyes closed, hands behind his head listening to Joni, Geraldines excitement and; I noted; familiarity with the arrival of the Professor, jolted him out of his reverie, looked up, saw the professor and groaned.
"Like man, that was too quick man,", clearly he was even more stoned than usual today since the frequency of his use of the word 'man' tended to be a good measure of how many Joints he had smoked. "I haven't even reached the Beatles man."
"If ziz iz not ze good time, I can come back later." Said the professor.
"NO!" exclaimed Geraldine, "I am damaged, I need repairing, and you can do it, so you are not leaving till its done!" she said emphatically.
"Like Geraldine Man, be nice to the Tyrellian, man, he might not want to help repair you man."
Geraldine turned to look at Snixat, "He's Tyrellian, I am broken, he won't be able to help himself. Not to mention he's probably stuck on this planet too, so we are probably his ticket off this rock." she said, adding, "and stop saying 'man'! its really annoying,"
"Like OK ma.. like, sorry you know, its just like, you know.."
Geraldine glared at him.
I felt that this was a moment I could ask a question that was bothering me, "Er.. so how do you know he's a Tyrellian?"
"Oh they all look like that." said Geraldine.
"So Einstein was an alien," I felt like I had made a profound discovery, "which explains a lot." I added.
"Ah No zis is ze common mizconception among humans ven zey discover Tyrellians all look like Einstein, zis is not ze case, he vaz not only qvite remarkable, but entirely human."
I was quite crestfallen, as well as amazed other humans had discovered this fact,"Oh, then how come all Tyrellians look like you, or rather him then?" I asked the Professor.
"Vell Tyrellians are very keen on ze zelf improvement, und, around vat vas1920 on Earth, a Tyrellian vas curiouz about your vorld Vich had been tranzmitting Radio Vaves for 30 years or so. Vell he landed here to haf ze look around. Und to cut ze long story short he vas very impressed vith Mr Einstein und aquired ze zample of his DNA, analyzed ze ztructure und added it to hiz own genome. Zis vas qvite ze achievemen on its own, since we do not have ze DNA, zomething more like XNA, you might zay."
"So he ended up populating your entire world in less than a century?"
"No No No: in lotz of vays Tyrellians are quite like humans, vhen he returned he vaz qvite ze celebrity you might zay, und ze 'modification' was quite the fad, for a Vhile. Of course ve are alzo very different from humans too, zo ze fact zat ve reproduce azexually helped zpread ze genotype throughout ze population. Zo in vat vould be tventy yearz or zo on Earth, almost every Tyrellian looked like Mr Einstein."
My mind was as they say boggled by this, "And the accent was a part of his genetic code too?" I asked."Ah no, sorry that's something I just put on for humans since they seem to expect it. Qvite the hard habit to break, sorry." the dropping of the accent was if anything more unsettling than discovering Einstein had essentially fathered (and mothered) an entire race of intelligent aliens.
"So you can fix Geraldine?" I asked.
"Oh yes." Said the Professor, "MY parent designed her engines, it shouldn't, take me long to rebuild the negative energy density exotic matter, wormhole stabiliser, provided we can find the right components?"
"Is that likely to be hard?" I asked.
"Vell negative energy density, exotic matter, doesn't grow on trees you know" said the Professor.
Snixat sat back down, looking if anything a little re-leaved, "I really like this planet, especially the music, take your time proff." he clicked the next video on you-tube, and started rolling another joint.
Geraldine ran her fingers through her hair in an exasperated way, knocking her 'policewoman's' hat off, said, "I deserve a sane owner," and disappeared.
It was then that I realised that after meeting the Professor, I had forgotten to buy the Sugar and Jam. The Professor put his jacket and gloves over one of the 'flight chairs' unbuttoned his shirt cuffs, and started rolling up he sleeves.
The sounds of 'Free man in Paris' filled Snixat's ship.
The next day I decided I had to just get on with life, though I had enjoyed the meals that Geraldine 'synthesised' in Snixat's ship, I felt the need to look after myself. For all the excitement of the previous day, having a real life UFO in my garden had turned out more like having a hippy squatting in my garden shed, rather than the blockbuster movie that I had imagined in my head.
I left the house and locked the door behind me, turned around, and was confronted by Jamie from three doors up, who was leaning on his bike.
"What you hiding in your garden?" he asked, with his usual admirably direct, but profoundly irritating manner.
My immediate reaction was denial, but on past experience Jamie generally took a denial as confirmation. So I took a less direct approach, "What makes you think I'm hiding anything in my garden?" I asked, and started walking down the road to the corner shop.
"You've had the same sheet hanging on your washing line for a week." he said. Walking along behind me pushing his bike, "You always do that when you don't want me to see your garden from my window."
There are many eternal questions in the universe, what the origin is of the uncanny ability of delinquent eleven year olds to see through adult deceptions: is one of them. I made a mental note to change the sheet.
I was busy trying to think of a convincing reason I might have left a sheet out on the line for a week, but before I could come up with an answer Jamie said, "My Dad thinks your growing dope, cos he keeps smelling it."
This made me anxious, since a visit from the local constabulary was the last thing I wanted, and who knows where that would lead. But this did give me an opening to divert Jamie. "Nah, that just number 18, everybody round here knows that."
"That's 6 doors from us." Said Jamie, "we don't usually smell it from there."
"Well it's certainly not me." I said truthfully, silently cursing Snixat. And feeling relieved the corner shop, and with it sanctuary from Jamies interrogation, was in sight.
"What was all the shouting orders about yesterday?" Jaime asked with his irritating persistance.
"I really don't know." I said, again at least 95% truthfully, and realised that knowing very little about Snixat and the huge extended universe he inhabited made fibbing about it very easy indeed.
Finally my hand grasped the door handle to the corner shop, and for a fleeting moment I had a degree of empathy with Julian Assange Reaching the Ecuadorian Embassy. "Goodbye Jamie," I said, adding, "Keep out of trouble now."
Jamie could, of course, followed me into the shop. But I knew as well as he did, that the subject of 3 Mars bars, a magazine and a tube of superglue would have been raised by Mr Singh the shopkeeper the moment he saw Jamie's face.
Unfortunately inside the shop was not much better, as I was immediately accosted by the 'professor'. What he was a professor of, no one was quite sure, although the consensus was he must be retired, because of his age. Nor did anyone know where he was actually from, since his accent was vaguely mid-European, but difficult to pin down to any particular national identity. At one moment one might imagine he was Polish or Russian, at another German, on one occasion it had seemed to me to veer as far West as French.
Like all old professors he bore a resemblance to Albert Einstein.This was due in no small part to his dress sense which was several decades out of date. It had never been clear to me whether this is an affectation of old professors, or just a natural consequence of being a professor, and growing old.
"Ah, just ze person I vanted to talk to." He said
"What about?" I said uncertainly.
"I am puzzled by readings I haf detected from your property in ze last few dayz. Zese suggest zere iz some quite unusual radiation coming from somevere." his eyebrows raised above his round spectacles.
I hadn't really thought about this possibility and my anxiety was immediately raised by the use of the word 'Radiation', without really thinking too much, I asked, "Er is it dangerous?"
"Oh no, I do not zink zere is any danger, but it iz really very unusual, und I vondered if I could come round und take ze clozer readingz?"
I was a little non-plussed by this, and did not really know what to say, in the end I just said, "What kind of radiation?"
"Zat iz qvite comlicated to explain," he said, "It involves somezing called 'exotic matter', and strictly speaking I should not be detecting it at all."
I abandoned standing and talking to him face to face, on the premise that if I carried on with my shopping, he would take the hint and wander off to do whatever it was that odd professors normally do. I guess I knew this wouldn't work, he was renowned for pursuing a topic until it was resolved to his. satisfaction.
"It vould really help if I could take ze closer look," he said, following me down the aisle, "I zink it might help if I pointed out zat zis iz not just ze accademic interest. I haf for some time now had ze small problem, und ze radiation I haf detected in your garden vould potentially provide a zolution for me." he paused again, before adding, "I vould deem it a very large favour, und vould be very grateful."
I added a four pint carton of milk to my basket, next to the butter a loaf of bread and a box of tea bags. I made a mental note not to forget the sugar and jam. I had the oddest feeling that I knew where this was going. My life had been so strange since Snixat had landed his ship in my garden, odd and alien was the only direction this conversation could go.
I looked at the professor, who was looking at me over the top of his round glasses, with fiercely intelligent eyes, and I realised that he really did look exceptionally like Einstein, and I guessed that if I googled a picture of the master of relativity, himself that the resemblance would be much more that just a passing one. "Your him aren't you" I said.
"Ah, I zee you begin to underztand" the professor said, "No: not exactly, zough you are, shall ve say, 'in ze right ball park'."
"You al;ready know what is in my garden don't you?" I said, standing there holding my basket, in what must have seemed like a rather resigned way.
"Vell lets just say I haf had my zuspicions fore zome days now. Und if it is zo, zen it vould zolve a rather particular problem of mine." he struck his legs with the gloves he was holding.
At this point I had metaphorically thrown up my hands and said 'what the hell', though being English of course this is something I would never do in reality. " Fine I said, just let me pay for my shopping and I will introd .. . er.. Show you my garden."
Mr Singh, looked at us as though we were insane. And the possibility that this was the case crossed my mind, but if so, it was the most interesting delusion I could have imagined. The irony that a minute or two ago, I had been wondering how to avoid the unwanted interest of the local constabulary, and was now inviting someone I hardly knew into my newly complicated life, did not escape me.
On the way back to my house, and what I now wondered might be becoming my infamous garden, we talked very little other than to mention how the weather was somewhat overcast but at least wasn't raining. which is frankly about the most English thing two people can do.
I opened my front door and invited the professor in, he said 'zank you,' and we walked through the house, I unlocked the back door, walked out waited for the door in empty air to open, and once it had walked inside. In retrospect it was possibly the most absurd thing I had done in the last ten days, and considering that I had made friends with a stoned hippy alien, the somewhat alien representation of his ship, and almost been arrested by six inch high yellow alien policemen that was saying something.
Snixat was still exploring you-tube, and the strains of Joni Mitchells 'From both sides now' were suffusing the ship, as was the usual aroma of Snixat's Joint. Fortunately Snixat was not attempting vocal accompaniment on this occasion.
Geraldine appeared, looked at the Professor and said, "Oh you wonderful boy, that's fantastic," rushed over to me and kissed me full on the lips, adding, "However did you find him?" we should be off this planet in no time now."
This was unnerving for several reasons, firstly the 'desktop' today was a rather skimpy policewoman's 'uniform', with truncheon and handcuffs. Secondly women in such revealing attire have rarely rushed over to kiss me, less often these days. Thirdly her somewhat cat like eyes were rather unsettling up close. And lastly it hadn't occurred to me that a 'hologram' could have a physical presence. Which is a little odd considering I have watched enough Star Trek, and Red Dwarf to have encountered the idea of a 'hard light hologram' before.
Snixat had been sitting back in his chair with his eyes closed, hands behind his head listening to Joni, Geraldines excitement and; I noted; familiarity with the arrival of the Professor, jolted him out of his reverie, looked up, saw the professor and groaned.
"Like man, that was too quick man,", clearly he was even more stoned than usual today since the frequency of his use of the word 'man' tended to be a good measure of how many Joints he had smoked. "I haven't even reached the Beatles man."
"If ziz iz not ze good time, I can come back later." Said the professor.
"NO!" exclaimed Geraldine, "I am damaged, I need repairing, and you can do it, so you are not leaving till its done!" she said emphatically.
"Like Geraldine Man, be nice to the Tyrellian, man, he might not want to help repair you man."
Geraldine turned to look at Snixat, "He's Tyrellian, I am broken, he won't be able to help himself. Not to mention he's probably stuck on this planet too, so we are probably his ticket off this rock." she said, adding, "and stop saying 'man'! its really annoying,"
"Like OK ma.. like, sorry you know, its just like, you know.."
Geraldine glared at him.
I felt that this was a moment I could ask a question that was bothering me, "Er.. so how do you know he's a Tyrellian?"
"Oh they all look like that." said Geraldine.
"So Einstein was an alien," I felt like I had made a profound discovery, "which explains a lot." I added.
"Ah No zis is ze common mizconception among humans ven zey discover Tyrellians all look like Einstein, zis is not ze case, he vaz not only qvite remarkable, but entirely human."
I was quite crestfallen, as well as amazed other humans had discovered this fact,"Oh, then how come all Tyrellians look like you, or rather him then?" I asked the Professor.
"Vell Tyrellians are very keen on ze zelf improvement, und, around vat vas1920 on Earth, a Tyrellian vas curiouz about your vorld Vich had been tranzmitting Radio Vaves for 30 years or so. Vell he landed here to haf ze look around. Und to cut ze long story short he vas very impressed vith Mr Einstein und aquired ze zample of his DNA, analyzed ze ztructure und added it to hiz own genome. Zis vas qvite ze achievemen on its own, since we do not have ze DNA, zomething more like XNA, you might zay."
"So he ended up populating your entire world in less than a century?"
"No No No: in lotz of vays Tyrellians are quite like humans, vhen he returned he vaz qvite ze celebrity you might zay, und ze 'modification' was quite the fad, for a Vhile. Of course ve are alzo very different from humans too, zo ze fact zat ve reproduce azexually helped zpread ze genotype throughout ze population. Zo in vat vould be tventy yearz or zo on Earth, almost every Tyrellian looked like Mr Einstein."
My mind was as they say boggled by this, "And the accent was a part of his genetic code too?" I asked."Ah no, sorry that's something I just put on for humans since they seem to expect it. Qvite the hard habit to break, sorry." the dropping of the accent was if anything more unsettling than discovering Einstein had essentially fathered (and mothered) an entire race of intelligent aliens.
"So you can fix Geraldine?" I asked.
"Oh yes." Said the Professor, "MY parent designed her engines, it shouldn't, take me long to rebuild the negative energy density exotic matter, wormhole stabiliser, provided we can find the right components?"
"Is that likely to be hard?" I asked.
"Vell negative energy density, exotic matter, doesn't grow on trees you know" said the Professor.
Snixat sat back down, looking if anything a little re-leaved, "I really like this planet, especially the music, take your time proff." he clicked the next video on you-tube, and started rolling another joint.
Geraldine ran her fingers through her hair in an exasperated way, knocking her 'policewoman's' hat off, said, "I deserve a sane owner," and disappeared.
It was then that I realised that after meeting the Professor, I had forgotten to buy the Sugar and Jam. The Professor put his jacket and gloves over one of the 'flight chairs' unbuttoned his shirt cuffs, and started rolling up he sleeves.
The sounds of 'Free man in Paris' filled Snixat's ship.
Click here to read Part 4 of the story.
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