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“Oh?”
“Message runs ‘We give you a message of universal peace and cosmic harmony an’ suchlike.’ Message ends,” said the toad.
“Oh.” Newt turned this over in his mind. “Oh. That’s very kind.”
“Have you got any idea why we have been asked to bring you this message, sir?” said the toad.
Newt brightened. “Well, er, I suppose,” he flailed, “what with Mankind’s, er, harnessing of the atom and—”
“Neither have we, sir.” The toad stood up. “One of them phenomena, I expect. Well, we’d better be going.” It shook its head vaguely, turned around and waddled back to the saucer without another word.
Newt stuck his head out of the window.
“Thank you!”
The small alien walked past the car.
“CO2 level up 0.5 percent,” it rasped, giving him a meaningful look. “You do know you could find yourself charged with being a dominant species while under the influence of impulse-driven consumerism, don’t you?”
The two of them righted the third alien, dragged it back up the ramp, and shut the door.
Newt waited for a while, in case there were any spectacular light displays, but it just stood there. Eventually he drove up on the verge and around it. When he looked in his rearview mirror it had gone.
I must be overdoing something, he thought guiltily. But what?
And I can’t even tell Shadwell, because he’d probably bawl me out for not counting their nipples.
“ANYWAY,” SAID ADAM, “you’ve got it all wrong about witches.”
The Them were sitting on a field gate, watching Dog rolling in cowpats. The little mongrel seemed to be enjoying himself immensely.
“I’ve been reading about them,” he said, in a slightly louder voice. “Actually, they’ve been right all along and it’s wrong to persecute ’em with British Inquisitions and stuff.”
“My mother said they were just intelligent women protesting in the only way open to them against the stifling injustices of a male-dominated social hierarchy,” said Pepper.
Pepper’s mother lectured at Norton Polytechnic.30
“Yes, but your mother’s always saying things like that,” said Adam, after a while.
Pepper nodded amiably. “And she said, at worst they were just free-thinking worshipers of the progenerative principle.”
“Who’s the progenratty principle?” said Wensleydale.
“Dunno. Something to do with maypoles, I think,” said Pepper vaguely.
“Well, I thought they worshipped the Devil,” said Brian, but without automatic condemnation. The Them had an open mind on the whole subject of devil worship. The Them had an open mind about everything. “Anyway, the Devil’d be better than a stupid maypole.”
“That’s where you’re wrong,” said Adam. “It’s not the Devil. It’s another god, or something. With horns.”
“The Devil,” said Brian.
“No,” said Adam patiently. “People just got ’em mixed up. He’s just got horns similar. He’s called Pan. He’s half a goat.”
“Which half?” said Wensleydale.
Adam thought about it.
“The bottom half,” he said at length. “Fancy you not knowin’ that. I should of thought everyone knew that.”
