Before the assassination of Big Brother on New Year’s Eve 1999 Airstrip One was a very nasty place in which to live. The same right-wing government had been in power since the end of World War Two. Right wing coups in each European country culminating in a dictatorship forcing its way into the American White House in 1945 had set a trend for totalitarianism that had made the western world the very worst place to reside for 55 years. Many attempts at revolution had been made but it was only when all of the dictators in their respective countries were assassinated at the same time that liberty was made possible on Airstrip One. This did not happen until the second the millennium ended and our story here begins prior to that. Two and a half years before to be precise.
Eglwys Fach (Egg Lewis Vak) was a padre in The Church of the Subgenius. The Subgenius had been banned by Big Brother but that did not stop them from preaching their particular form of subversion whenever and wherever they could. Eglwys Fach was Welsh for “small church”. Eglwys had adopted a Welsh pseudonym as had all radicals. For one he didn’t want his real name known for it would reveal all the details stored on Big Brother’s main computer files. Secondly Big Brother was a severe Anglophile and all the Celtic languages were considered unlawful modes of speech. Eglwys was making a stand for freedom of expression in adopting a name in the Welsh language.
Eglwys Fach wore a black, wide-brimmed preachers hat, a long, black coat, black drainpipe trousers and black winkle-picker shoes. He also wore a black, silk shirt, a black waistcoat and a bootlace tie with a solid silver skull as its clasp. His clothes themselves were in contravention of at least five laws on dress that Big Brother tried to coerce the populace into following. It was an extreme risk for a man like Eglwys to be seen dressed like this and he only did it when he was out preaching. This very act, in itself, was illegal so what the fuck! He may aswell go the whole nine yards and look the part too. All his clothes were black market of course.
Another radical who adopted a Welsh name and flaunted the dress laws of Airstrip One was Blentyn Drwg (Blentin Droog). His name meant “bad child”. Blentyn was an Anarchist who wore a black bowler hat, a short black jacket, black drainpipe trousers and black brothel creeper shoes. He also wore a red, silk shirt, a black waistcoat and a black, silk slim-jim tie. He also wore painted glass cuff links each in the image of a human eyeball.
On 7th June 1997 they both found themselves in the same prison cell.
Eglwys Fach was the first to speak....
“Fancy meeting you here.”
They walked around one another.
Blentyn Drwg then said....
“Hello Eglwys.” They stood now, facing each other.
Fach spoke next.... “So what do the forces of exploitation and repression want with you Blentyn Drwg?” They both sat down.
“Nothing short of my life I suspect,” said Drwg, “....and what of the infamous Eglwys Fach?”
“Same.”
“For what?”
“Preaching the way of the Subgenius.”
“Piss Off!” Blentyn Drwg stood up and paced about as he said this.
“Seriously!” said Fach with an expression of sincerity washing over his features. At length Blentyn spoke....
“So things have gotten so bad that the Subgenius is rounded up and slapped in prison cells with Drwgs like me eh?”
“That’s about the long, the short and the tall of it.” said Fach.
“Bollocks!” said Drwg sitting down to face the preacher.
Fach replied, “The authorities have always seen debate as direct action so we’ve always been tarnished by the same brush as you.”
Blentyn Drwg stood up again and paced around the cell.
“Varnished more like!” said Drwg. At length he continued.... “Anyway if debate is seen as direct action why have they put us in a cell together?”
“Well a) they’ve run out of cells,
B) they’re hypocrites and
C) they’re stupid!”
“Ha ha ha ha ha!” laughed Drwg. He then looked more serious and sat down. Fach spoke....
“So what nefarious act of revolutionary impudence did you commit this time Drwg?”
“I popped a rocket through the clock-face of Big Ben.” Blentyn Drwg grinned as he said this.
“Ju Ju Eeeeesus Christ!” said Fach.
“Indeed!” said Drwg.
“Why this nation’s most famous time piece?”
“Because there are no clocks in heaven but they are everywhere in hell!”
“True true.” replied Fach.
“So what was it about your preaching this time that brought the old bill down on you?” asked Drwg.
“Hyde Park.... Speaker’s Corner.... I incited a riot where about three million pounds worth of damage was done to corporate property.”
“Fucking hell!” exclaimed Blentyn.
“Indeed.” agreed Eglwys Fach.
Drwg continued.... “Hardly the passive art-terrorism we’ve come to expect from the Subgenius.”
“True. It was my last eight words through the megaphone that really seemed to rile the cops who were gathering on the outskirts of the crowd I had attracted.”
“What were they then?” asked Blentyn.
“Fuck `em if they can’t take a joke!”
“Ha ha ha ha ha!”
“So,” said Fach, “under the so called security measures we’re up for immediate trial and possible execution.”
“Ha!” spat Blentyn Drwg at Eglwys Fach’s statement of the obvious.
“Fancy martyrdom?” asked Fach.
“No I do not!” replied Drwg.
“Good,” said Fach, “they’ll only dress you up as an evil son of a bitch and if you’re really unlucky you’ll be adopted as a messiah in a couple of hundred years.”
They both paced about.
“Yeah,” said Drwg, “misinterpreted and used as an excuse for nationalist conflict.”
More pacing.
“Indeed,” said Fach, “There could well be stained glass images of you in an electric chair in churches all over the planet by then!” exclaimed Fach as this concept seemed to inspire his humour some what.
“Ha!” exclaimed Drwg.
Fach spoke again.... “or there might be images of me strapped to a bed with some oppressor shooting me up with something fatal!”
“....and the guilt of our executioners displaced among millions who had no part in our deaths.” added Drwg.
“I wonder if our executioners will be wearing standard issue “Ike” trainers?” asked Fach.
“Goes without saying.” answered Blentyn.
“Bastards!” said Fach.
“Double bastards!” said Drwg.
“Triple bastards!” said Fach.
“You know I can’t count up to four!” exclaimed Drwg.
The cell door opened and a voice from outside said....
“Fach.... our boss wants to see you.”
Eglwys Fach left the cell and Blentyn Drwg stayed seated. Blentyn then took off his bowler hat and did a handstand up against a cell wall. Whilst inverted he started to talk to himself....
“It’s a rum thing criminality. In the nineteenth century it was illegal to masturbate. A hundred years before that slaves were considered to be mentally ill if they tried to make a bid for freedom. Not much has changed.”
Blentyn dropped to a crouch and then stood upright. He then took his cuff links off and removed one of his crepe shoes. He then started to juggle with the cuff links and the shoe while hopping on one foot. At the same time he recited this popular little rhyme....
“Peter Piper picked a peck of pickled pepper. Where’s the peck of pickled pepper Peter Piper picked?”
Eglwys Fach walked back in and the cell door closed with a clunk behind him. Blentyn looked around at him and replaced his cuff links. He then sat down and replaced his shoe. “What happened?” he asked.
“I’ve been asked to shoot you with this.” said Eglwys Fach. He then handed Drwg a pistol. Blentyn took the gun from Eglwys and analysed it. At length he pointed the gun at the spy hole in the cell door. With it resting on his spare elbow and with one eye closed he said.... “D’you think somebody’s got their eye on the other side of that spy hole?”
“Not now.” replied Eglwys.
Blentyn lowered the gun. Fach spoke again.... “Would you have shot if you knew for sure that someone was looking through that spy hole?”
“I do know for sure. Those sick bastards would enjoy having a gander at you popping me. The thing is they’re so thick that they probably think I can shoot an inch wide spy hole dead centre! Ha ha ha ha ha!”
“Ha!” said Fach in agreement.
“They’re gonna’ screw you now.” said Drwg.
“We’ll use the gun.” said Fach.
Blentyn Drwg flipped the chamber open and looked for bullets. He took one out. “You only had one chance matey.” he said.
“One bullet huh?” said Fach.
“Yeah.”
“They didn’t tell me.”
“They were probably hoping you’d merely injure me and I’d injure you.”
“You think they want us in pain?” said Fach.
“Well that’s how I feel about them!” replied Drwg.
“Well I don’t.” said Fach.
“No?”
“No.”
“Where’s your righteous indignation?” asked Drwg.
“I got that in heaps Drwg! If.... and I say only if.... I had to kill in order to save those around me or save myself I would try and be as swift as possible!” exclaimed Fach.
“And you think reality works like that?” asked Drwg.
“Reality is what we make it!” replied Fach with some earnest.
“But Eglwys.... you preach riot so you gotta’ take some responsibility for a certain amount of pain!” exclaimed Blentyn.
“We have a relevant saying in the Church.” said Fach.
“Yeah?”
“Yeah.”
“What’s that then?” asked Blentyn.
“It says.... “I don’t practice what I preach because I’m not the kind of person I am preaching to.”.”
“Well,” cut in Blentyn, “you’re preaching non-violence to me so that means you gotta’ be violent.” He seemed very pleased with this latest train of thought. He grinned at Eglwys. He then put the bullet back in the pistol and handed it back to Fach. Fach spoke.... “I’m not preaching non-violence. All I’m saying is that you must not indulge your capacity for enjoying it.”
“Rosa the German Communist said that if the revolution wasn’t gonna’ be fun then she wouldn’t turn up for it.” said Blentyn.
“I’m glad she had the choice.” said Eglwys.
A voice on some tannoy system cut in....
“PUT THE GUN ON THE FLOOR AND PUT YOUR HANDS ABOVE YOUR HEADS!”
Blentyn Drwg spun around and faced the door. At length he said.... “How original.” The voice cut in again.... “DO IT NOW OR YOU WILL BOTH BE DEAD WITHIN SECONDS!” Eglwys Fach and Blentyn Drwg did as they were told.
“KICK THE GUN TOWARDS THE DOOR!” said the voice.
“They’re probably hoping it will go off.” said Drwg.
“DO IT! JUST DO IT!” shouted the voice.
They did as they were told. The cell door opened and a hand retrieved the pistol. The door closed. Blentyn Drwg took his hat off and did another handstand. Eglwys Fach paced around the room. The door then opened again and a voice said.... “Drwg.... come out here!”
Blentyn Drwg left the room and the door closed with another clunk after him. Suddenly Eglwys heard a shot followed by a thudding noise. The door opened. Blentyn Drwg popped his head in and gleefully announced that they should both do a runner immediately. As instructed Eglwys followed Blentyn out of the cell.
A short period of time passed and then the cell door once again opened.
Eglwys Fach and Blentyn Drwg were once again thrown into the tiny room. They both got up off of the floor and dusted themselves down.
“Fancy meeting you here.” said Fach.
“I’m amazed they put us in together again!” exclaimed Drwg.
“That must have been the shortest escape in history!” cut in Fach.
“Yeah, right, thirty seconds and “BLAM!” here we are!” added Drwg.
“I’m glad you didn’t shoot anyone.” said Fach.
“That’s your fault.” said Drwg.
“Why?”
“You said I wasn’t allowed to indulge my desire for violence.”
As Drwg said this they both sat down again.
“Where did you fire?” asked Fach.
“Well when I saw that dip-shit holding the gun as he closed the cell behind me I thought “I’ll grab it and blow his head off!” We were gonna’ die anyway so I thought “why not take one of the cunts with me!” I then saw your pious little mush and “bingo” I grabbed the gun and fired it in the air. They all dived for cover so I dropped the gun and sprang you.”
“Which enabled them to jump up and nick us again.” added Fach.
“Indeed.” said Drwg.
“Well I was fucking glad it was your face that appeared when the door opened.” said Fach.
“I give it ten minutes and then we’ll be taken away and beaten to fuck.” said Blentyn looking extremely serious.
“Or worse.” added Eglwys.
“What the fuck. The first time the cops kicked the shit out of me I was surprised to learn that my anger cancelled out any fear or pain.” said Blentyn.
“Well I’ve never been beaten up before.” said Fach.
“Best of luck mate.” said Drwg.
“What if I crack?” asked Fach.
“Don’t worry about it.” reassured Drwg.
“But what if I grass people up?” asked Fach with some trepidation.
“Don’t worry about it. Only a macho tosser would hold it against you if you did it unwillingly under torture. Of course if you did it for profit then I’d blow your balls off myself!” said Blentyn with a grin.
“But surely a grassing up would still be for profit under any circumstances.” said Fach.
“How so?” asked Drwg.
“My mark up would be the absence of pain and possible freedom.” answered Fach.
“What freedom?” asked Drwg looking dismayed.
“Freedom from here.” answered Fach.
“Freedom to wear your treachery on your conscience like a badge!” exclaimed Drwg. Eglwys Fach looked at Blentyn Drwg long and hard and then said.... “Freedom to come back here and blow these coppers to kingdom come!”
“Don’t bother mate.... it’s easier than you think.... keeping your gob shut. They’re gonna’ lie and kill you anyway.” Blentyn did look seriously concerned for his cellmate’s peace of mind as he said this.
“So the fear of pain is worse than pain itself.” said Fach in acknowledgement of Blentyn Drwg’s train of thought.
“Absolutely,” replied Drwg, “that’s how the law is enforced.”
“Thomas Hobbes.” said Fach.
“Who?”
“Thomas Hobbes. He outlived the English Civil War by amusing the aristocrats, then the parliamentarians and then the aristocrats again as they gradually regained some of their power. He believed that the fear of sudden and violent death is the main reason why humans obey authority.”
“Well it looks as though he followed his own code of survival then.” said Drwg.
“As have many through history.” added Fach.
“And yet life is more dangerous when you live under an hierarchical structure.” said Drwg.
“True.” agreed Fach.
“So the fear of death is worse than death itself.” added Drwg.
“In this context yes.” agreed Fach.
“What other is there?” asked Drwg.
“Well our ancestral fear of predators helped in our survival as a species. I’m sure being eaten by a sabre-toothed tiger was a tad worse than the fear of it.”
“Bollocks. The cops are gonna’ take a lot longer than a tiger would. A tiger would asphyxiate you fucking quickly. Painlessly and humane as you would say.” Blentyn Drwg sat down again as he said this.
“So tigers are more humane than coppers.” said Fach.
“WERE more humane.” corrected Drwg.
“True,” said Fach, “I cried when I heard that there were no more wild tigers on the planet. I was only thirteen at the time so that must have been thirty one years ago. Jeeeesus! Big Brother’s regime has certainly taken its toll on wild-life!”
“And on just about everything else!” joined in Drwg.
“When that U.S. Company had that last bit of jungle chopped down where tigers were last seen to reside in a wild state there were riots in nearly every major Indian city. The axis of totalitarian regimes that backed the company just sent the troops in.” said Fach.
“Capitalism will fall!” exclaimed Drwg.
“Not in our lifetime it seems.” added Fach.
The cell door opened again and a voice followed it as it creaked its introduction.... “BOTH OF YOU OUT HERE QUICKLY!”
Blentyn Drwg and Eglwys Fach both stood up and walked out of the room.
At the desk stood a most unexpected character. She was about 7ft tall and wore a bright green Panama hat. Although her face was in shade owing to the width of the hat brim it seemed that her skin may be slightly green too. She was wearing a green blazer with swirling patterns in different shades of green all over it. On closer inspection the onlooker would have noticed that similar patterns wound their way around her hat. She wore tight leggings with the same swirling green patterns around them. She also had knee-length boots that had, yep you guessed it, green swirling patterns around them too. She stood with her elbows resting on the duty desk. At her feet were six or seven dead or unconscious coppers.
“Good afternoon,” she said, “I am Ysgubor Estron.”
Fach and Drwg both recognised Ysgubor Estron (Urskibor Estron) as Welsh. “Don’t worry gentlemen you are perfectly safe. If you would just stand as still as possible for a couple of seconds I will transport all three of us to a less threatening environment.” With this she held up one of her hands and made a series of signs with her long, green, gloved fingers.
The air crackled around them and tendrils of purple light ran up and down their bodies.
There was a flash and suddenly they were no longer in the police station.
They seemed to be in a highly evolved technological environment skirted on all sides by gleaming control panels and computer screens. In front of them stood their saviour. She started taking her clothes off. First she removed her jacket. She folded it and placed it on a silver metal stool. Underneath this she wore a tight fitting lycra T-shirt with a similar green pattern. Next she unlaced her boots and slid them off her feet. Then she rolled off her leggings, folded them and placed them on the silver metal stool. Next she removed her hat and placed it, too, on the stool. Lastly she lifted her T-shirt up over her head and off with both hands. In several swift movements she had removed every garment and placed them all on the stool.
They gasped as her full features were revealed. She had a bald, green head which was slightly bigger, in relationship to her body, than a human head. Her body, whilst slim, was proportionately humanoid and her fingers were long, many jointed and slender with the tips slightly bulbous. Her mouth was much like a human mouth with the lips a slightly lighter shade of green. Two tiny holes existed where a human’s nose would be. Eglwys Fach and Blentyn Drwg noticed that subtle coiling patterns were faintly visible all over her head and body but since they were all similar shades of green they almost existed on a subliminal level. There were small holes either side of her head where human ears would be and her eyes were large black ovals that covered a good third of the surface area of her face! They were set diagonally opposite each other so that they nearly met at the bottom and were furthest away from each other at the top. Her forehead was massive in comparison to the human forehead.
Her whole appearance seemed to be in accordance with many of the numerous descriptions and artist’s impressions of aliens that had begun increasing in the social consciousness during the late Twentieth Century.
Ysgubor’s body gracefully swivelled around and faced them in accordance with the direction she was now looking in. Fach and Drwg noticed that the faint patterns on her body became more chaotic and accentuated the nearer to her crutch they got. She also had small visible breasts with nipples of a slightly darker green and also a small indentation where a human belly button would be. There was no evidence of hair anywhere on her head and body.
A soothing electronic hum and a repetitive succession of tuneful bleeps and thuds at a very low volume accompanied the scene around them.
Fach and Drwg stood rooted in shock. Suddenly a monologue of vocal emissions joined the electronic noises and it seemed that they were in some form of alien language. Four aliens, almost identical to Ysgubor, walked around them and adjusted dials and display screens on massive walls of advanced cybernetic technology. This was when Fach and Drwg noticed for the first time that the aliens had green feet that were very similar to their hands. More shocking than this was the fact that they appeared to be walking some one or two inches above the ground!
“We are your biological descendants.” said Ysgubor Estron.
They noticed that Ysgubor was not moving her lips. They both assumed that she was using a form of telepathy.
Eglwys Fach suddenly became excited.
“Of course.... Ysgubor Estron.... I get it now! It’s Welsh for Alien Barn!”
“Which is what you are now standing in.” said Ysgubor. She continued.... “I gave a Welsh name as soon as you left your cell so you would know that I was sympathetic to the Underground. I suppose the pile of unconscious coppers was enough evidence but you can never be too sure.”
“So we eventually evolve as a species into you.” said Blentyn Drwg.
“You already have. We’ve been sharing the planet with you for millions of years just as you have with the species you evolved from.”
“You must have the art of camouflage down to a tee.” said Eglwys Fach.
“Indeed.” said Ysgubor Estron.
“Well thanks for springing us.” said Blentyn.
“You’re welcome.” said Ysgubor.
“What can we do to repay you?” asked Eglwys.
“Well for one Eglwys, or should I say Mr Smith, your daughter will assassinate the Big Brother of Airstrip One at the same time as the assassinations of all the other Big Brothers around the world. Neither you nor her will be aware of this until New Year’s Eve 1999 but if you were to die now it would jeopardise this important millennial event.”
“But I know about it now so how can you say I won’t until the night it happens?” asked Eglwys.
“Everything you experience of us today you will only remember subconsciously. We can only help like this for if it became common knowledge that we existed as we do then the subsequent human reaction could lead to a war that would destroy the whole planet.”
“Fair enough.” said Blentyn.
“Apart from your future family involvement in tearing down the State Eglwys both you and Blentyn can do a small favour for us.”
“What favour?” asked Blentyn Drwg.
“Follow me.” said Ysgubor Estron as she turned and walked towards one of the control panels. She flicked a switch and a ten foot by ten-foot screen lit up. The swirling vortex that provided a bridge between Eden and Earth flashed into view.
“If you two gentlemen would like to step through the screen you will enter a dimension that exists in the collective subconsciousness of the whole planet. There you will meet some strange and wonderful creatures and a human from another dimension of Earth that exists apart from your own. Mr Smith, you will visit that other dimension of Earth some day but the details are not relevant now. Those on the other side of this portal will explain what you both have to do there. Believe me it will prove absolutely necessary in your fight against repression.”
“Is there no time for a more detailed explanation as to what all this is about?” asked Blentyn Drwg.
“No. If you stay here our methods of translation will diminish and nothing will make sense. We cannot risk damage to your brains by keeping you here any longer.”
“Let’s have it then.” said Drwg.
“OK just jump into the frangle.” said Ysgubor.
“What?” asked Eglwys.
“The frangle the frangle! Quip frangle frange ash reef!” exclaimed Ysgubor gesturing urgently towards the screen.
Blentyn grabbed Eglwys’s hand and shouted.
“I think now would be a fucking good idea!”
They jumped.
They experienced something like an electric shock as they were sucked in.
The vortex spun into view as they then realised they were moving backwards at an incredible speed.
The vortex receded into distance as they flew backwards through a lozenge shaped castle window and out over a moat.
The vortex disappeared and a dragon poked his head out of the window. The dragon thrust out his giant hands and caught Blentyn and Eglwys in mid-air.
Plato then pulled them into the castle laboratory and set them gently onto the floor in standing positions.
Fach and Drwg had been spat out of a TV and the laboratory’s window. Plato’s reactions had been as fast as lightening.
Fach and Drwg stared in shock. In front of them was the dragon that had saved them, a human being, a little red cherub which hovered in the air, and a giraffe and a chicken dressed in Victorian garments. A second later Baphomet floated Head-first out of the TV screen and immediately spun around and switched it off.
“That’ll be quite enough of that for now.” he said.