The Unchronologist at the End of the Universe: Space and Time, #3

By James Anders Banks

Award winner Daren King (Mouse Noses on Toast) now writing darkly comic superhero time travel sci-fi as James Anders Banks.

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Super powers. A time machine. What could possibly go wrong...?
 

(series summary)

 

The universe is under threat from a killer robot arm from outer space. It seems everyone is after that arm, including Britain's MI7, Russia's KGB2, the Intergalactic Bureau of Investigation (known as the Men in Tweed) and the terrifying Space Police in their size 23 razorboots.

If anyone can save the day, it's the Companions in Space and Time.

But just as the team get on top of the situation, Area 51 scientist Isaac Dewey Thinker reveals the truth: the robot, hellbent on destroying every living thing in the universe, can be destroyed only when fully assembled.

A dark yet playfully comic science fiction adventure for those up for a wild ride through space and time.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Admission Books
• Release date: Nov 14, 2021
• ISBN: 9781838473969

Book preview

admissionbooks.com

About the Author

An author cannot copyright their name. Scammers are now using AI to mass produce bad novels, which they then publish on book stores using the names of established authors, hijacking their advertising and promotion – and damaging the author’s reputation.

This page, and the Admission Books logo, are your assurance that the book you are reading was written by the real James Anders Banks.

You can also check the jamesandersbanks.com and admissionbooks.com websites. If a book you’ve seen on a book store is not listed on these sites, it is not a James Anders Banks book.

The author was born in Essex in England. His debut children’s novel, Mouse Noses on Toast, published as Daren King, won Gold in the 2006 Nestlé Children’s Book Prize. His fiction has been published in print in countries including the UK, Germany, Italy, Australia, Canada and the United States, by publishers including Faber & Faber and Penguin Random House. He now writes science fiction as James Anders Banks and crime thrillers as Jack Law.

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CONTENTS

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PREVIEW: HEROES & VILLAINS 1

jackandjames.consulting

PREVIEW: WRITE LIKE THE MASTERS

BOOKS

LETTER

COPYRIGHT

SPACE AND TIME 3

THE UNCHRONOLOGIST

AT THE END

OF THE UNIVERSE

James Anders Banks

1

A whole planet, Jade said, dedicated to poker. What joy.

You’re being sarcastic, Mike said, fastening his bootlace necktie. And it’s not a whole planet dedicated to poker.

It’s not a planet, Cat said. It’s a moon, that’s why they call it the Eighth Moon of Oscilor. Or part of the reason. It’s also that Oscilor has another seven moons. She looked across at Mike, I’m guessing.

I meant that it’s not just poker, Mike said. They have blackjack, roulette ... The Eighth Moon of Oscilor is known as the Casino Planet.

Casino Moon, Cat said. You said it’s a moon.

I said it’s called the Eighth Moon of Oscilor. I didn’t say it’s a moon.

So is it a moon, Jade said, reclining as much as you could in a folding garden chair without it tipping backwards, or a planet?

Depends who you ask. The International Astronomical Union, Mike said, taking one of the two vacant chairs opposite Cat and Jade, and tugging at the ankles of his sequined pants so he could pull up his silk socks, their Planet Definitions Committee, and it really is called that, defines a planet as a celestial body in orbit around a sun, and that’s more or less round due to possessing sufficient mass that its gravity overcomes rigid body forces.

So it’s a moon, Cat said.

The Space Police, however, define a moon as a planet so rough it’s beyond saving. If the Space Police leave a planet to rot, by definition, it’s a moon. Which means, Mike said, planetary status can change.

This is proving more educational than we had hoped, Jade said.

Mike stood up, and grabbed a mirror and comb from the impossible closet.

The Space Police are infinitely more influential than the IAU’s PDC.

Not surprising when they keep stepping out of their jurisdiction, Cat said.

Thinking back to what Mike had learned when he was kidnapped by the Russians in August.

Mike, still on his feet, poked the comb into a back pocket.

Point is, the Eighth Moon of Oscilor is now a planet, by the Space Police’s definition. And therefore mine as I’m scared of them, and you would be too, if you’d seen the size of their razorboots.

I have, remember? Cat said. At Astronave, up on the penthouse, when I was trying to find the tanning booth.

And I saw four of them outside my hotel room, Jade said. And on the screens, on the IBI field ship.

Then a planet it is, Cat said, reaching over and handing Mike his sequined jacket from the back of one of the two vacant garden chairs.

Cat noticed Jade toying with some object. Couldn’t make out what it was, fitted too neatly in the hand. Jade quickly tucked it into a pocket of her jeans and looked up at Mike.

None of this means we have to go there on holiday.

Mike ignored Jade’s comment. Put on his aviator shades, and squeezed by Jade’s chair to the door.

We came to an agreement, Mike said. You choose the internal and external color of The Polymath for one Earth week, and I get to choose where we go on vacation. You put your heads together and came up with the color you knew would bug me most. Flamingo pink.

You have a pair of flamingo pink boxer shorts, Jade said. With matching socks. And three flamingo pink shirts. Oh, and a sky blue shirt patterned with four-inch flapping pink flamingos. You go have fun, we’ll stay here, keep an eye on the impossible box thing.

The Polymath, Cat reminded her. It’s called The Polymath, and it’s a cube, not a box.

Cat was busy folding away two of the garden chairs when she noticed Mike just standing there in the open doorway.

Mike? Jade said, hugging herself—the interior of the impossible cube was suddenly cold as a flamingo pink cocktail. Aren’t you going out to play?

Poker planet-moon-whatever no longer tickle your fancy? Cat said.

I don’t think there’s much of it left.

They heard a voice from outside.

"Hey, I thought it was you guys."

Florida Phil! Cat said, stepping over to the door. Why is it everywhere we go, we run into you?

I’m the kinda guy you run into, Phil said.

It looks grim out there, Jade said to Mike, peering out at the gray wilderness. We told you gambling is unhealthy.

Florida Phil rubbed his arms in the canary yellow Bermuda shirt patterned with eight-inch cherry red yachts.

Brr. Hey, can you give me a ride home? I’ve had a heck of a weekend. Twenty minute nuclear war. I had to shelter in a nuclear-proof latrine. Lucky the sponge-scrub that covers the planet’s surface absorbed all the radiation, or I’d be talking to you from beyond the grave.

Florida stepped inside, unfolded one of the two chairs Cat had stacked against the wall.

Cat asked him, What brings you all the way out here?

I finally got a deal for Cantaloupe Man, Florida said, glancing around at the pink ceiling and walls as he sat. "Fruit-themed superhero I was telling you about? Editor of Misty comic was here on a gambling trip, contacted me himself, long distance call down to Earth. Said if I don’t mind traveling out here, we’ll sign a deal. Shook his head as Mike closed the door. Talk about bad timing. Darn editor perished in the blast."

How did you get up here? Mike asked him.

Hitched a ride with some NASA buddies.

Cat said, Can’t you get a ride home with them? Jade glared at her, so she added, Oh, not that we mind. There’s plenty of room.

Mike said, We can take you anywhere in all of space and time.

Florida nodded gratefully.

I’m more worried about my NASA buds. Looked each of them in the eye in turn, Space Police took them. Just zoomed in on their razorbikes and took them.

Cat looked at Mike, I thought you said the Space Police no longer police the Eighth Moon of Oscilor.

Doesn’t mean they wouldn’t show up here to make an arrest, Mike told her.

Florida was shaking his head, his eyes to his white high-tops.

It just doesn’t make any sense. I’ve known those guys my whole adult life. They’re law abiding citizens. Any one of those spacemen would rather shoot himself in the head with a zoomer than break intergalactic law.

2

Cat said, Do you think Jade looks distracted?

They had transported The Polymath to an out of town furniture store in Texas. Jade was in the next aisle, checking out the barstools. Indoor garden furniture had lost its cool when Cat jinxed it.

I’d say Jade is distracted as hell, Mike said.

Did you see on the poker moon-planet? She was hiding something in her hand. Right before Florida dropped by.

Mike closed the Polymath door. Followed Cat down the aisle.

I just want to know she’s alright, Cat said. I mean, she obviously isn’t alright, but I want to know why.

So we can make her alright, Mike said.

I mean, we’re all stressed out. We have The Polymath, we have the two robot arms—

In the safe custody of the US Military, Mike put in, catching her up.

It’s our responsibility to find the rest of the killer robot and reassemble it so it stops being ironically invincible due to having bits missing.

Mike frowned.

The ultimate defense mechanism. Vulnerable to destruction only when at its most powerful.

I love it when we recap, Cat said. We located and captured the arms, so we’re responsible for reassembling the robot and destroying it. That’s sure to stress anyone out.

Mike nodded.

I’d be surprised, Cat went on, "if any member of the Companions in Space and Time weren’t stressed out. But Jade is distracted, and that’s another thing."

Mike said, What do we know about our colleague?

Cat frowned for a minute, toying with her wrap-around tail.

Jade Camara. London born British Indian. Former guitarist in Britpop sensation Tantrum. Older than me by 20 years. Christian. Mother walked out on the family when Jade was four. Left her those flat mauve satin pumps she always wears, and that rubber ball she used to kill the Cardagian on the clifftop.

A ball she then retrieved, Mike said. Walloped Isaac with it in Area 51, and he chuckled.

Maybe the ball is what she was hiding in her hand in The Polymath, Cat said. Father is from Bangalore, scientist with India’s NASA, the ISRO. And it was when she visited him way out here in Texas, that some guy heard her British accent, and put her in touch with that Scotsman.

The Scot who hired her to try to photograph the right arm, Mike said.

Hamish Abernethy, Cat said, remembering. Billionaire current affairs broadcast journo. Beard like buttered toast. Wait, where’d she go?

They were peering between lawnmowers hanging like plucked chickens.

There, Mike said, pointing. Talking on her phone.

She did say she’d meet us in the store café if we’re separated, I’d guess that’s where she’s heading.

Let her finish her call, Mike said, then you see if you can read her mind.

I won’t learn anything she doesn’t want me to learn, Cat said.

Mike and Cat perused items for several minutes, then made their way through the concrete and metal store to the café by the front entrance.

At the counter, Mike ordered coffee for himself, milk for Cat. Picked up Cat’s flip-flops and carried them to the table. Took the seat opposite Jade, who was staring into her reflection in the black screen of her smartphone.

Jade tossed something from one hand to the other, stuffed it into her jeans as she stood up. Object wasn’t the bouncy ball. Looked solid, like glass.

Howdy, Mike said, and Jade said nothing.

Cat, now in Cat mode, leapt into Jade’s lap. Mike hoped Jade would stroke her, but she didn’t.

Being autistic sucked at times. It was hard to connect with people. Cat could empathize in cat mode, could even read people’s thoughts, though only if they stroked her, or tickled her under the chin.

Cat knew Jade knew all this, had leapt into her lap in the hope Jade wanted to communicate, but was finding whatever was troubling her difficult to put into words.

The waitress brought the drinks.

Jade nursed her coke. Mike sipped his coffee as Cat padded and pawed.

I’m OK, Jade said, almost apologetically, when Cat transformed back into a human. My, um, auntie is unwell. On my father’s side.

Cat looked at Mike. Even in person mode, she could tell this was a lie.

Oh, Jade said, and that was my dad’s brother on the phone. He wants me to collect a package from the post office. Looked Mike in the eye, In Brooklyn.

No one spoke for some minutes. To break the silence, Cat, wriggling her toes into her flip-flops under the table, said, It was nice to see Florida Phil looking so well. If a little narked about that nuclear war. Horrible, what happened to his NASA buds. He appreciated us dropping him off down in Miami, it’s not like we were headed that way.

I fear for those NASA guys, Mike said. And it’s hardly an inconvenience, in a space and time machine. It’s not like we even had to break the timeline.

The Companions in Space and Time stuck to the contemporary timeline as much as they could. Cat had explained this to Florida Phil while Mike figured out the coordinates for present day Miami. Told him how Mike had stolen The Polymath from Area 51 during the Storm 51 event that had taken place, in secret due to the event being banned by the US Government, eleven months back, in September 2019. The Companions in Space and Time had formed in June 2020, after successfully apprehending the robot’s right arm. The left arm had fallen into line a month later. Cat had suggested Florida write the events into his Cantaloupe Man comic strip. Florida had taken notes.

Jade stood up.

I’ll just go pay for those bar stools, and when you’ve talked about me for five minutes we can head out.

Mike took a thousand dollars from his wallet and handed the bills to Jade.

When she was gone, Cat said, Pants on fire. Funny, she’s never mentioned an uncle and aunt. We only really know about her father. She told me he can be weird, used to make her eat this spiky and crunchy breakfast cereal when she was a kid. Shrugged, Anyway, she’s lying through her teeth about that aunt.

I caught her playing with that object again, Mike said. It looks like a lump of glass. Have we learnt anything at all?

Cat chewed her lip.

We learnt that she doesn’t want us to know what the hell is going on. We learnt that the problem is serious enough she will lie to her fellow Companions in Space and Time...

Sighed deeply before continuing.

We’re all stressed out. But I would say Jade is under the kind of stress you experience only when you’re seriously not in control of your life.

If Jade is not in control of her life, Mike said, stirring his coffee, that means someone is controlling Jade.

3

I can find my way from here, Jade said. I know this part of Brooklyn like the back of my hand. Oh, and my uncle sent me a map.

Hey, Mike called as she walked away. You said you’d jot down your home address.

Jade walked the ten paces back. Mike handed her a pen and a scrap of paper.

Muswell Hill in London. Lived there with my father since I was a little kid, when Mum walked out. It’s my father’s address. I’m of no fixed abode, kind of couch surfing.

Mike and Cat watched from the Polymath doorway as Jade crossed the street in the gray rain, saggy rucksack hugging her shoulder.

I had to ask her, Mike said, holding up the scrap of paper with the address. Just had this feeling we’re never going to see her again. At least now we can contact her father.

You should have asked her about the glass object she was holding, Cat said.

Mike said, She’d have lied.

If she knows this part of Brooklyn like the back of her hand, Cat said, why would her uncle send her a map? A few lines of direction and an address would do.

Mike shrugged. Watching the traffic tumble down the glistening street to an intersection.

Closed the door, and grabbed the remote from the impossible closet as Cat expertly flicked her wrap-around tail to her rear before pulling herself onto one