Chapter 40: A Nuclear Bomb? How Bad Can That Be?

It was ten minutes until we landed in London, which would be destroyed four minutes after that. ‘We have to warn someone!’ I said to Johnny Depp.

‘The others are all scattered. I doubt if I could even get in touch with…’

‘I don’t mean your friends, Johnny! I mean the government. Or the army or something!’

‘Who will believe you?’ said the Master’s evil electronic voice. ‘And what could they do? All you can do is turn away. If it makes you feel better, you can tell yourself that you’re choosing to live so you can fight with me another day.’ The Master, whoever he really was, wanted me alive so I could help him open the Gates of Hell. Maybe it would be better if I died.

‘Why are you doing this?’ I asked. ‘How is this helping?’

‘Suffice to say, Mary Sue, that the United Kingdom is a place I am rather to neutralise for historical reasons, because it is the headquarters of your so-called ‘angels’. Without them to oppose me, I am confident that the rest of my plans will run smoothly. So long as you survive. But as I say, and let me repeat this for Johnny’s benefit, you are also the angels’ only hope of defeating me, especially if their main force has been destroyed, so it is in everybody’s interest that you turn away from the holocaust, and that you do so right now. I cannot stress…’

‘I don’t believe you,’ said Johnny Depp, and clicked the radio off furiously, looking at me as if this were all my fault. The radio instantly returned to life, the Master calmly insisted that common sense must prevail, and Johnny turned him off again. This happened twice more before the radio fell silent. By this point, the Master’s mask of control was beginning to slip. I don’t think he was capable of pleading, whoever he was, but he came close. ‘He’s telling the truth,’ Johnny muttered. He started dialling numbers. ‘I’ve got to get the message out. Maybe some of them can reach a bunker.’ With his other hand, not looking, as if the act was being performed by a part of his body that was betraying him, he lifted the joystick and began turning the jet away from London. Since I had no idea where we were, I don’t know if he was turning north or south.

Moments later, Johnny was talking with someone on the ground who relayed information back to him with the languor of condemned man trying to put on a show. He said, ‘Obviously this is to do with le Pen – don’t spit when I say his name, Mary, it’s disgusting, and someone will have to clean up after you… Oh, you’re right, but don’t do it anyway – anyway, we haven’t got a clue. Mea culpa, I thought he was funny to start with, no idea what he was doing – no, Mary, hiding under the table won’t work however many 1950s information films you have watched – but I didn’t realise how many of military he had, none of us did. Andorra was funny too. That’s the problem, it seemed ridiculous and doomed, because this is modern world – the modern world, Mary, and still you are trying to find a paper bag to put over your head? Why don’t you go and make me a nice cup of tea? Anyway, Johnny, NO MARY, NOT DARJEELING, WE’RE ABOUT TO DIE – what was I saying? Yes, Andorra, then this whole – YES OF COURSE EARL GREY DO YOU THINK I’M SOME KIND OF A BARBARIAN? – thing was clearly, we see now, to give them the pretext for a once in a millennium nuclear “error”, but the end of the plan is unclear. They want rid of us, obviously – yes, Mary, it HAS worked, but bitterness never made anyone sweeter and, why are you crying, Mary? You’ve always what? Really? And now it’s almost too late and you might as well just go on and say it and there’s not enough time? There’s ten minutes, Mary, that’s plenty of time. Oh, gosh, sorry Johnny. Something’s come up here. It’s an important thing, er, to do with plutonium. I hate plutonium. I’ve got the message being relayed on the skunk wires, so anyone who can escape will escape, but, er, gosh, yes, I really must go. Good luck, and think of England.’ His voice clicked off.

Before Johnny could say anything, the insistent electronic voice returned the secret radio, cutting through Johnny’s conversation. ‘URGENT PRIORITY 1,’ it said. ‘REPEAT, PRIORITY 1. Respond immediately, over.’

‘You’ll never beat us,’ said Johnny Depp, ‘and I’m not telling you whether we’re landing or not.’

‘Johnny, what are you taking about? Thank God you’re safe! Do you have Mary Sue with you? This is the Teacher.’