“I can’t leave,” said Russell. “I’m trapped here. But He is here, Hitler. Maybe I can raise an underground resistance movement, or something.”
“Fat chance,” whispered Julie.
“Sorry, I didn’t catch that.”
“I said, I hope you get that chance.”
“Thank you.” Russell recalled in the movie there being a bit of passionate kissing and the words “I love you” being bandied about. Russell stuck his lips out for a snog.
But he didn’t get one.
“Right,” said Julie. “I’ll be off.”
And pressing the button on the buckle of her belt.
She was.
Russell stood on his own, cocked his head on one side and listened. According to what he’d seen in the movie and back at The Ape of Thoth, the big metal clanking things with the terror weapons should now be making an appearance to chase Julie through time.
But they weren’t, were they?
“No,” said Russell. “They are not. Because that was just another trick, probably done with the Cyberstar machine, to make me trust and be protective to Julie from the very first moment. Boy, did I get taken for a sucker. But, however.” Russell delved into another pocket and brought out a package. It was identical in shape and form to the one Julie had taken back into the past.
Russell had switched them.
Russell grinned and unwrapped the programmer. Julie would be delivering the package to the Russell of the past in The Ape of Thoth, but this time, when the Russell of the past opened it, it would not contain the programmer. It would contain a nice fresh ham roll. After all, Russell had been eating that stale ham sandwich when he opened the package in The Bricklayer’s Arms, hadn’t he?
“I had,” Russell grinned. “You sly dog, Russell. You have pulled it off. No programmer, no movie, you’ve beaten the buggers.” Russell dropped the programmer to the marble paving and ground his heel upon it.
That was a job well done.
Russell stood on the steps of the shopping mall, a smug little smile on his face. He had got it done, he really had. He’d stopped the movie getting made and the world getting changed. He looked up at the monolithic building, all this would soon fade away. How long? Russell didn’t have a clue. But it would, he knew that it would.
So what to do now?
Another pint at The Flying Swan? That was tempting.
Return at once to the past? He still had to deal with the ultimate evil. The red insect thing in Fudgepacker’s basement. But he would deal with that. He felt certain he would.
“No,” said Russell. “One last look around while I’m here. There’s something I’d like to see. Something that would help me out no end.”
Russell walked back into the mall and along the arcade to the electrical store. He looked in at the window, the Cyberstars stood in mock conversation, children played upon the holographic machines.
Russell entered the store.
The chap behind the counter smiled him a welcomer.
Russell smiled back.
“How can I help you, citizen?” asked the chap.
“I’m interested in acquiring a copy of an old movie,” said Russell. “In fact, if you have it in stock, I’d like to view a bit of it. Just a few minutes. The end bit.”
“I’m sure that can be arranged, sir. What is the name of this movie?”
“Nostradamus Ate my Hamster,” said Russell.
“Oh sir, sir,” the chap wrung his hands in evident joy.
“One of your favourites?” Russell asked.
“Oh my very favourite. Everyone’s favourite.”
“Indeed?” said Russell. Nor for much longer, he thought. “Then you have a copy in stock?”
“Probably one hundred copies.”
“That popular, eh?”
“Where have you been, sir, on the moon? The biggest box office success in the history of film making. Years before its time, you see. An Ernest Fudgepacker production, starring –”
“Just about everybody,” said Russell.
“But not just anybody, sir.”
“Go on,” said Russell.
“Starring Julie Hitler, sir. The Führer’s wife.”
That did catch Russell a little off guard, but he might have expected it really. “Could I have a viewing?” Russell asked. “Just the end bit?”
“Of course, sir, of course. Oh, I’m so excited.”
“I thought you’d seen it.”
“Yes, sir, but seeing her, seeing her.”
“Seeing her?” said Russell.
“Here, sir, here.”
“What do you mean?” Russell asked.
“She was here, sir. In the store, not an hour and a half ago. Large as life and twice as beautiful.”
“Here?”
“I got her autograph. Look, I’ll show it to you. But you can’t touch it.”
“I don’t really want to,” said Russell.
“Oh come on, sir. Just to touch her autograph, imagine.”
I’ve touched a lot more than that, Russell thought. “I’m sorry,” he said. “I don’t understand. Why did the lovely Mrs Hitler come in here?”
“Well, sir. It seems that the Führer and she have one of the Cyberstar systems. I expect they re-enact famous movies in the comfort of their palace. Well, apparently she’d mislaid the programmer and she came in here, in here, sir, into my humble store, for a replacement.”
“What?” went Russell. “And you gave it to her?”
“With compliments, sir.”
“Oh my God!”
“Whatever is it, sir? You’ve come over all unnecessary.”
Russell shook his fists in the air. She’d done it to him again. She’d left nothing to chance. A spare programmer in case he lost his, or something. All she’d wanted from him was the time belt to get back with. She’d never trusted him. He’d been stitched up, good and proper.
“Aaaaagh!”
“Please, sir, control yourself, whatever is the matter?”
Russell made fists and looked all around the shop. He’d failed. Well, of course he’d failed. If he’d succeeded, then this place would never have come to be. He’d be standing in empty space right now, or the middle of the Great West Road. He’d blown it and it was all his fault. He’d given her the time device. He’d laid it all on.
Russell took to groaning. There was that other Russell back in the past, that one who would watch Julie appear, would be given the programmer and would take it to Bobby Boy. That stupid lame-brained Russell who would be conned every inch of the way. Who would work until he nearly dropped to produce a movie that would reduce the people of the world to little more than slaves.
Russell shook his head. Whatever was he to do now?
“Sir,” said the chap behind the counter, “if you’re all right, sir, would you like to see the movie?”
Russell turned and Russell smiled. “Oh yes,” he said. “Oh very much indeed.”
And so Russell sat down and watched the movie, the manager was so excited that he insisted Russell watch all the way through. And so Russell did. There was so much more that he hadn’t seen. But it all made perfect sense when you viewed it from the beginning to the end. The dark alien creature, always in the background, always manipulating, experimenting with this means and that to control and exploit mankind. And he, Russell, played by Bobby Boy, finally defeating the creature in a manner Russell hadn’t even considered.
As the credits rolled away the manager clapped his hands in warm applause. “Isn’t it wonderful, sir, marvellous, a tour de force. And it’s all true, you know. Well, not true as in true. It’s a metaphor you see. For life. You see the Emporium represents –”