Chapter 10: Banana in a bar
The automatic doors of the convenience store slid shut behind Peter as he hurried to catch up with his new acquaintance.
“My name’s Sam by the way” she said as he caught up
“Nice to meet you, sort of” Peter replied, falling into step with her. “So how comes you guys have coffee?” Peter had briefly considered whether he should have been more focussed on the alien mind control, but for the time being all he could focus was that delightful hot beverage.
“We stocked up before they decided mankind shouldn’t have such delights” she was looking around, presumably for sign of the alien, but the street was empty.
“What they got against coffee? Seems an odd thing to mind control another planet over”
“No one’s sure. Silas, the scientist that spoke to you back at the lab, he thinks it is part of an experiment”
“But you?”
“I think they like torturing us”
“I’d have thought that mind controlling aliens could come up with more effective forms of torture?”
“They’re playing the long game, putting the pressure on us bit by bit. Probably some kind of twisted power play”
“Really” Petter was starting to breath a little more heavily given the quick pace maintained by his babysitter.
“Yeah. You know you can’t even get a pain pill now right?”
It dawned on Peter “Oh, the licorice?”
“Uh-huh. How long did your headache from the concussion last?”
“I felt awful all day”
“Cos you couldn’t take any medicine for it. Imagine if you got headaches more often? Or back ache, arthritis. Heck, imagine being a woman at that time of the month. They’re torturing us and they like it”
They cut across a car park and under a rail bridge, Peter nervously looking around from time to time at a part of the city he still didn’t recognise.
“How comes people don’t notice?”
Sam shrugged “The aliens tell their brains the pain is normal we think, so people just kinda get used to it I guess. Dunno, I ain’t a doctor”
“Well what do actual doctors do, with stuff that can’t be fixed with licorice and a stern talking to?” Peter was starting to find her story incredulous “I mean come on, it seems like every day the news is on about some epidemic of stabbings or shootings or terrorism”
She sneered derisively “Couple of things”
“Yeah?”
“First, half of that stuff you’re reading hasn’t even happened, or if it has it was exaggerated”
“Why?”
Another shrug as she crossed over a small side street, boots crunching broken glass. “Mental torture is my guess. We got stats to back up this over-reporting, got a whole room of people listening into the emergency services frequencies, looking for potential subjects like yourself. The alien scum like scaring us, like making us distrust one another. I’ll show them” this later part said more to herself, but still loud enough to cause an involuntary shiver from Peter.
“Er, ok. So, er, what’s secondly?”
“Eh?”
“You said firstly like you were doing a list” Peter said
“Oh yeah, second. Well secondly, they control the fricking hospitals”
“Excuse me?” Peter stopped halfway across the street, Sam having to drag him out of the way of an erratically driven taxi.
“The hospitals, the aliens control them. That’s where we see their drones most. Probably do all kinds of messed up stuff.”
“But also heal people?”
“Yeah, but I reckon just to keep more people alive to torture. Right we’re here” she said, nodding towards a dingy set of concrete stairs that led down towards what looking like some kind of basement dive bar.
“Really? What about my coffee back at the lab?”
“It’ll wait. First I need to see someone” she led the way down the steps. Peter paused for a second at street level, then followed.
It was indeed a dive bar, interspersed by the odd tatty looking pool table or gaudily lit fruit machine. Sam headed straight to the bar, whispering to a rotund man of about 40 with thick bushy sideburns that then went to meet under his nose in an elaborate moustache. He eyed Peter suspiciously, raising an eyebrow as Sam said something to him.
“Hey, I gotta go sort some stuff out in the office” she said to Peter nonchalantly. “You stay here” and with that she followed the man behind the bar and towards a metal door at the back. Before entering it she turned back to the straight-brain, with a smirk. “Order yourself a drink and a packet of smokes”
“Oh, I don’t smoke” said Peter
“No one does anymore” she gave a short laugh then entered the side room.
Peter was trying to make sense of her statement when a croaking voice at the other end of the bar asked “So, you want somet’ then?”
“Umm” Peter peered through the gloom towards the scrawny old woman that had addressed him. She stepped forward while attempting to dry a glass on the most dirty tea towel that Peter had ever seen.
“A drink?” she rasped, one eye squinting at Peter, the other closed amid swelling and a livid purple bruise.
“Sure. You got any coffee?”
“Nope. Just beer, or whisky”
“Beer then, er, please”
“Anything else?” she asked while moving over the pump and putting a glass underneath.
Curiosity got the better of him “How about some cigarettes?”
“Sure. What’s your brand”
“I’m, er, not fussy”
She frowned, then shrugged. “That’ll be twelve quid fifty”. Peter grabbed the scrunched notes from his pocket, found another twenty then handed it to her. In return she put in front of him a frothy glass of water and a banana.
This time, unlike in the diner, Peter held his tongue. But the look of incredulity on his face must have rankled with the woman. “There a problem?” she demanded.
He sighed, then replied “No ma’am” then took a sip of the water.
By the time Sam emerged from the back room Peter was about two thirds of the way through the banana. She laughed as she saw him eating it, then sarcastically drawled “smoking is a filthy habit, you know?”
“Not as addictive as I’d been told though” he bit off another chunk. “We done here?” he asked in between chewing.
“Yup” she glanced down, only then did Peter follow her gaze to the plastic bag she was hugging close to her chest.
“More supplies?” he ventured, slipping off the bar stool and following her to the door
“Something like that” as she held the door open
Peter went through blinking as they emerged back into daylight. He walked up the stairs and onto the pavement, then turned back when he realised Sam hadn’t followed him up. Leaning over the rusty iron railing he looked down at her, the young woman bent over, rubbing her temples. “You ok?” he called out.
“Yeah” she grimaced slightly “It’s just, I’m probably pushing it on my time out the lab” she straightened slightly, grabbed hold of the paint flecked metal banisters and heaved herself up the stairs.
Peter look concerned “We should get back”
“Uh-huh” that way, she pointed down the street, then made a stumbling step forward. Peter leant to support her but she brushed his hands away “I’m fine”
“So you get a headache when the mind control is creeping back in?”
“Yup, hurts like hell. Always aim to get back before it starts” she quickened her pace, but was still walking like her knees were struggling with the weight of her upper body.
“But you needed the supplies? What are they?” Peter reached to touch the plastic bag, but Sam snached it away.
“None of your business” she barked.
Chastised, Peter pulled back away from her, instead following a few paces behind. The side street had opened up onto a main road, buses and taxis zipping along. He’d been living in London for nearly twenty years now, since he left university for the lights of the big city, but had never truly felt at home there. Came from being a country boy he had always figured. But whenever he was back in the country he missed the vitality of the big city. Made him feel somewhat of a nomad. But right now, in between the aliens and the grumpy lady from the laboratory, he was feeling like he wanted to run, get out of the city, go into hiding, hope that this all blows over. He smirked at the thought of an alien invasion blowing over. “Maybe they’ll get bored and leave us be” he mused.
“What was that?” Sam had turned to look at him, but continued walking, bumping shoulders with a commuter “Watch it” she sneered, the commuter retreating from her angry gaze.
“Nothing really” Peter replied noncommittally, then mouthing an apology to the man Sam had barged past before continuing to her, “Just thinking how stressful this must all be for you”
Sam laughed in response, but there was no humour in her eyes.
“So what’s the endgame then?” Peter caught up next to her once more “How do you go about throwing off our alien overlords?” saying “alien overlords” out loud made Peter cringe slightly at the ridiculousness of it. "Or perhaps find a way of getting out of the city, maybe escape the, er, alien mind control that way" still sounded ridiculous.
"We can't get out of the city"
"You're limited by how far from the lab you can be, I get that, but maybe..."
"We're limited more by the fact that the alien scum sealed off London"
"Sealed off?" the words felt strange in Peter's mouth.
"Yuh-huh, massive big wall extending to the sky, maybe even over the sky. No way they want us escaping their torture town" Sam practically spat the last two words.
"So what can we do then?"
Sam didn’t reply instantly, frowning for a couple of seconds as if mulling over how much to say “We’ve got some ideas, but it’s going to need straight-brains”
“Like me? I’m really not much of an alien fighting action hero sort of guy” Peter spoke quickly, worried.
Sam stopped, turned to Peter and prodded him in the centre of his chest “Yes, like you, because you are all we’ve got at the moment. And so at some point you are going to have to make a decision. Help the cause or help the oppressors” the finger prods matching the beat of the words in her last sentence. She then turned and marched off, leaving Peter standing, rubbing his chest.
“Why’d she say oppressors and not aliens?” he wondered aloud, then set off again behind her.
Back in the laboratory Sam was quick to scuttle away from Peter, but also ignored the greetings from the lead scientist, Silas, as he came over to them. The older man frowned at the rapidly departing Sam, who had stomped off up the stairway and out of sight down a badly lit corridor.
“She said she had a headache” Peter attempted to excuse her rudeness, then wondered why he was bothering. The HR manager in him trying to sooth employee conflict. He smiled at the thought. Even renegade outfits hiding out from alien invaders need effective HR, right?
“You look like you had a good time” Silas misread Peter’s smile.
“It was an, er, informative excursion” Peter replied.
“You took in some of the sights?” the scientist had put a hand on Peter’s shoulder, steering him to small office at the side of the main laboratory.
“Oh yes. But failed to take in any of the coffee” Peter’s hint hardly subtle, Silas chuckled and signalled to a younger man who had been lurking near the office.
“We can sort that out. Please take a seat” he motioned to the chair in front of a large wooden desk, papers on it piled high around a battered typewriter .
“Old school” Peter nodded at the typewriter as he sat.
Silas walked round the other side of the desk to take his seat before replying “Indeed, took some getting used to, but more modern technology is far from secure enough for my research notes”
“Any breakthroughs?”
“Not until you emerged Mr Iverson” Silas leant back, steepling his fingers together as he stared at Peter “But now we have a chance”
“For what?” Peter shifted uncomfortably in his seat
“To find out what were are truly up against”
Peter stopped squirming, he knew the answer to this “Mind controlling aliens”
Silas exhaled through his nostrils, then said “Yes, I am glad you are up to speed on that. But what is it that they want with us?”
“Sam thinks they want to torture us”
The mention of her name caused Silas to frown “Sam thinks a lot of things, not all are helpful”
“How’d you mean?”
“I mean she is an excellent field operative, can last out there” a wave of the hands indicating the world outside the lab “longer than anyone else, present company excepted” the hands now gestured to Peter “but prone to flights of fancy and ill thought through course of action”.
“She sounded plausible to me” Peter shrugged “In the grand scheme of just how crazy my day has been”
At this point the young man that Silas has sent off before entered the office, steaming mug in hand, which he passed to Peter before turning silently to leave.
“Is this really…?” Peter didn’t finish the question because the scent of coffee flooded into his nostrils “Oh boy have I been looking forward to this” a smile in Silas’ direction then a deep gulp.
“As good as you remember?” Silas asked.
“Better” was all Peter had time to say between mouthfuls.
“Probably your first real cup in two years”
Peter paused with the mug still at his lips “That how long since they took it away?”
Silas nodded.
“Why’d you think they took it then, if not to torture us?”
“To keep us healthy. Part of some kind of experiment I think”
Peter drained the mug, then looking into the empty vessel forlornly replied, “Healthy?”
“The things that they took away, the caffeine, the alcohol, the saturated fats, we know all of it is bad for us”
“A few glasses never hurt anyone” Peter said, defensively.
“But plenty of us, maybe most, were guilty of excesses”
“Our choice”
The scientist gave a sort of half shrug, then moved to place his elbows on the cluttered desk, fingers once again entwined, chin rested atop “The aliens beg to differ on that point”
“But what for? What is in it for then?”
“That is what I and my team mean to ascertain”
“How?”
Silas stood, and turned round to a large map of London that was pinned up on the wall. “An interesting thing about this city of ours” he tapped on the map as he said this “is that its central population increases by over 50 times during the working day. At night most return home in the outer boroughs or towns”
“Er, ok” Peter confused at the change of direction in the conversation.
“When the invasion came the aliens sealed off the central parts of the city”
“Sam mentioned something about that”
“I bet she did” Silas said with no further explanation, instead continuing “the invasion occurred at 10:58 on a Tuesday” he turned back to Peter, as if expecting to see a dawning realisation on his guest’s face, instead receiving a blank expression.
“Errrr” was all Peter could manage
“The population at that time was 50 times larger than usual. Those people go home at night. So if the city is sealed off, where do they actually go?”
“Ohhhh” Peter was starting to follow “And you want to find out?”
“Not exactly. We know where they go, there are these vast complexes that dot London’s periphery built by the aliens. What we don’t know is what happens to them when they get there.”
Peter gulped, this time knowing what was coming next, Silas’ task for him.
“We need you to find out, Mr Iverson”
“My name’s Sam by the way” she said as he caught up
“Nice to meet you, sort of” Peter replied, falling into step with her. “So how comes you guys have coffee?” Peter had briefly considered whether he should have been more focussed on the alien mind control, but for the time being all he could focus was that delightful hot beverage.
“We stocked up before they decided mankind shouldn’t have such delights” she was looking around, presumably for sign of the alien, but the street was empty.
“What they got against coffee? Seems an odd thing to mind control another planet over”
“No one’s sure. Silas, the scientist that spoke to you back at the lab, he thinks it is part of an experiment”
“But you?”
“I think they like torturing us”
“I’d have thought that mind controlling aliens could come up with more effective forms of torture?”
“They’re playing the long game, putting the pressure on us bit by bit. Probably some kind of twisted power play”
“Really” Petter was starting to breath a little more heavily given the quick pace maintained by his babysitter.
“Yeah. You know you can’t even get a pain pill now right?”
It dawned on Peter “Oh, the licorice?”
“Uh-huh. How long did your headache from the concussion last?”
“I felt awful all day”
“Cos you couldn’t take any medicine for it. Imagine if you got headaches more often? Or back ache, arthritis. Heck, imagine being a woman at that time of the month. They’re torturing us and they like it”
They cut across a car park and under a rail bridge, Peter nervously looking around from time to time at a part of the city he still didn’t recognise.
“How comes people don’t notice?”
Sam shrugged “The aliens tell their brains the pain is normal we think, so people just kinda get used to it I guess. Dunno, I ain’t a doctor”
“Well what do actual doctors do, with stuff that can’t be fixed with licorice and a stern talking to?” Peter was starting to find her story incredulous “I mean come on, it seems like every day the news is on about some epidemic of stabbings or shootings or terrorism”
She sneered derisively “Couple of things”
“Yeah?”
“First, half of that stuff you’re reading hasn’t even happened, or if it has it was exaggerated”
“Why?”
Another shrug as she crossed over a small side street, boots crunching broken glass. “Mental torture is my guess. We got stats to back up this over-reporting, got a whole room of people listening into the emergency services frequencies, looking for potential subjects like yourself. The alien scum like scaring us, like making us distrust one another. I’ll show them” this later part said more to herself, but still loud enough to cause an involuntary shiver from Peter.
“Er, ok. So, er, what’s secondly?”
“Eh?”
“You said firstly like you were doing a list” Peter said
“Oh yeah, second. Well secondly, they control the fricking hospitals”
“Excuse me?” Peter stopped halfway across the street, Sam having to drag him out of the way of an erratically driven taxi.
“The hospitals, the aliens control them. That’s where we see their drones most. Probably do all kinds of messed up stuff.”
“But also heal people?”
“Yeah, but I reckon just to keep more people alive to torture. Right we’re here” she said, nodding towards a dingy set of concrete stairs that led down towards what looking like some kind of basement dive bar.
“Really? What about my coffee back at the lab?”
“It’ll wait. First I need to see someone” she led the way down the steps. Peter paused for a second at street level, then followed.
It was indeed a dive bar, interspersed by the odd tatty looking pool table or gaudily lit fruit machine. Sam headed straight to the bar, whispering to a rotund man of about 40 with thick bushy sideburns that then went to meet under his nose in an elaborate moustache. He eyed Peter suspiciously, raising an eyebrow as Sam said something to him.
“Hey, I gotta go sort some stuff out in the office” she said to Peter nonchalantly. “You stay here” and with that she followed the man behind the bar and towards a metal door at the back. Before entering it she turned back to the straight-brain, with a smirk. “Order yourself a drink and a packet of smokes”
“Oh, I don’t smoke” said Peter
“No one does anymore” she gave a short laugh then entered the side room.
Peter was trying to make sense of her statement when a croaking voice at the other end of the bar asked “So, you want somet’ then?”
“Umm” Peter peered through the gloom towards the scrawny old woman that had addressed him. She stepped forward while attempting to dry a glass on the most dirty tea towel that Peter had ever seen.
“A drink?” she rasped, one eye squinting at Peter, the other closed amid swelling and a livid purple bruise.
“Sure. You got any coffee?”
“Nope. Just beer, or whisky”
“Beer then, er, please”
“Anything else?” she asked while moving over the pump and putting a glass underneath.
Curiosity got the better of him “How about some cigarettes?”
“Sure. What’s your brand”
“I’m, er, not fussy”
She frowned, then shrugged. “That’ll be twelve quid fifty”. Peter grabbed the scrunched notes from his pocket, found another twenty then handed it to her. In return she put in front of him a frothy glass of water and a banana.
This time, unlike in the diner, Peter held his tongue. But the look of incredulity on his face must have rankled with the woman. “There a problem?” she demanded.
He sighed, then replied “No ma’am” then took a sip of the water.
By the time Sam emerged from the back room Peter was about two thirds of the way through the banana. She laughed as she saw him eating it, then sarcastically drawled “smoking is a filthy habit, you know?”
“Not as addictive as I’d been told though” he bit off another chunk. “We done here?” he asked in between chewing.
“Yup” she glanced down, only then did Peter follow her gaze to the plastic bag she was hugging close to her chest.
“More supplies?” he ventured, slipping off the bar stool and following her to the door
“Something like that” as she held the door open
Peter went through blinking as they emerged back into daylight. He walked up the stairs and onto the pavement, then turned back when he realised Sam hadn’t followed him up. Leaning over the rusty iron railing he looked down at her, the young woman bent over, rubbing her temples. “You ok?” he called out.
“Yeah” she grimaced slightly “It’s just, I’m probably pushing it on my time out the lab” she straightened slightly, grabbed hold of the paint flecked metal banisters and heaved herself up the stairs.
Peter look concerned “We should get back”
“Uh-huh” that way, she pointed down the street, then made a stumbling step forward. Peter leant to support her but she brushed his hands away “I’m fine”
“So you get a headache when the mind control is creeping back in?”
“Yup, hurts like hell. Always aim to get back before it starts” she quickened her pace, but was still walking like her knees were struggling with the weight of her upper body.
“But you needed the supplies? What are they?” Peter reached to touch the plastic bag, but Sam snached it away.
“None of your business” she barked.
Chastised, Peter pulled back away from her, instead following a few paces behind. The side street had opened up onto a main road, buses and taxis zipping along. He’d been living in London for nearly twenty years now, since he left university for the lights of the big city, but had never truly felt at home there. Came from being a country boy he had always figured. But whenever he was back in the country he missed the vitality of the big city. Made him feel somewhat of a nomad. But right now, in between the aliens and the grumpy lady from the laboratory, he was feeling like he wanted to run, get out of the city, go into hiding, hope that this all blows over. He smirked at the thought of an alien invasion blowing over. “Maybe they’ll get bored and leave us be” he mused.
“What was that?” Sam had turned to look at him, but continued walking, bumping shoulders with a commuter “Watch it” she sneered, the commuter retreating from her angry gaze.
“Nothing really” Peter replied noncommittally, then mouthing an apology to the man Sam had barged past before continuing to her, “Just thinking how stressful this must all be for you”
Sam laughed in response, but there was no humour in her eyes.
“So what’s the endgame then?” Peter caught up next to her once more “How do you go about throwing off our alien overlords?” saying “alien overlords” out loud made Peter cringe slightly at the ridiculousness of it. "Or perhaps find a way of getting out of the city, maybe escape the, er, alien mind control that way" still sounded ridiculous.
"We can't get out of the city"
"You're limited by how far from the lab you can be, I get that, but maybe..."
"We're limited more by the fact that the alien scum sealed off London"
"Sealed off?" the words felt strange in Peter's mouth.
"Yuh-huh, massive big wall extending to the sky, maybe even over the sky. No way they want us escaping their torture town" Sam practically spat the last two words.
"So what can we do then?"
Sam didn’t reply instantly, frowning for a couple of seconds as if mulling over how much to say “We’ve got some ideas, but it’s going to need straight-brains”
“Like me? I’m really not much of an alien fighting action hero sort of guy” Peter spoke quickly, worried.
Sam stopped, turned to Peter and prodded him in the centre of his chest “Yes, like you, because you are all we’ve got at the moment. And so at some point you are going to have to make a decision. Help the cause or help the oppressors” the finger prods matching the beat of the words in her last sentence. She then turned and marched off, leaving Peter standing, rubbing his chest.
“Why’d she say oppressors and not aliens?” he wondered aloud, then set off again behind her.
Back in the laboratory Sam was quick to scuttle away from Peter, but also ignored the greetings from the lead scientist, Silas, as he came over to them. The older man frowned at the rapidly departing Sam, who had stomped off up the stairway and out of sight down a badly lit corridor.
“She said she had a headache” Peter attempted to excuse her rudeness, then wondered why he was bothering. The HR manager in him trying to sooth employee conflict. He smiled at the thought. Even renegade outfits hiding out from alien invaders need effective HR, right?
“You look like you had a good time” Silas misread Peter’s smile.
“It was an, er, informative excursion” Peter replied.
“You took in some of the sights?” the scientist had put a hand on Peter’s shoulder, steering him to small office at the side of the main laboratory.
“Oh yes. But failed to take in any of the coffee” Peter’s hint hardly subtle, Silas chuckled and signalled to a younger man who had been lurking near the office.
“We can sort that out. Please take a seat” he motioned to the chair in front of a large wooden desk, papers on it piled high around a battered typewriter .
“Old school” Peter nodded at the typewriter as he sat.
Silas walked round the other side of the desk to take his seat before replying “Indeed, took some getting used to, but more modern technology is far from secure enough for my research notes”
“Any breakthroughs?”
“Not until you emerged Mr Iverson” Silas leant back, steepling his fingers together as he stared at Peter “But now we have a chance”
“For what?” Peter shifted uncomfortably in his seat
“To find out what were are truly up against”
Peter stopped squirming, he knew the answer to this “Mind controlling aliens”
Silas exhaled through his nostrils, then said “Yes, I am glad you are up to speed on that. But what is it that they want with us?”
“Sam thinks they want to torture us”
The mention of her name caused Silas to frown “Sam thinks a lot of things, not all are helpful”
“How’d you mean?”
“I mean she is an excellent field operative, can last out there” a wave of the hands indicating the world outside the lab “longer than anyone else, present company excepted” the hands now gestured to Peter “but prone to flights of fancy and ill thought through course of action”.
“She sounded plausible to me” Peter shrugged “In the grand scheme of just how crazy my day has been”
At this point the young man that Silas has sent off before entered the office, steaming mug in hand, which he passed to Peter before turning silently to leave.
“Is this really…?” Peter didn’t finish the question because the scent of coffee flooded into his nostrils “Oh boy have I been looking forward to this” a smile in Silas’ direction then a deep gulp.
“As good as you remember?” Silas asked.
“Better” was all Peter had time to say between mouthfuls.
“Probably your first real cup in two years”
Peter paused with the mug still at his lips “That how long since they took it away?”
Silas nodded.
“Why’d you think they took it then, if not to torture us?”
“To keep us healthy. Part of some kind of experiment I think”
Peter drained the mug, then looking into the empty vessel forlornly replied, “Healthy?”
“The things that they took away, the caffeine, the alcohol, the saturated fats, we know all of it is bad for us”
“A few glasses never hurt anyone” Peter said, defensively.
“But plenty of us, maybe most, were guilty of excesses”
“Our choice”
The scientist gave a sort of half shrug, then moved to place his elbows on the cluttered desk, fingers once again entwined, chin rested atop “The aliens beg to differ on that point”
“But what for? What is in it for then?”
“That is what I and my team mean to ascertain”
“How?”
Silas stood, and turned round to a large map of London that was pinned up on the wall. “An interesting thing about this city of ours” he tapped on the map as he said this “is that its central population increases by over 50 times during the working day. At night most return home in the outer boroughs or towns”
“Er, ok” Peter confused at the change of direction in the conversation.
“When the invasion came the aliens sealed off the central parts of the city”
“Sam mentioned something about that”
“I bet she did” Silas said with no further explanation, instead continuing “the invasion occurred at 10:58 on a Tuesday” he turned back to Peter, as if expecting to see a dawning realisation on his guest’s face, instead receiving a blank expression.
“Errrr” was all Peter could manage
“The population at that time was 50 times larger than usual. Those people go home at night. So if the city is sealed off, where do they actually go?”
“Ohhhh” Peter was starting to follow “And you want to find out?”
“Not exactly. We know where they go, there are these vast complexes that dot London’s periphery built by the aliens. What we don’t know is what happens to them when they get there.”
Peter gulped, this time knowing what was coming next, Silas’ task for him.
“We need you to find out, Mr Iverson”
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