Dave Trellis and the Allotments of Doom Read Online Free PDF Page A

‘viral
re-structuring’, ‘half-body soup suit’ or ‘emergency pupation’.
     
     
    Two hours later
Fergus had regained the priceless gift of consciousness and sat
lengthways on a bench with his back against the wall of the
pavilion. A flexible casing, like half a sarcophagus enclosed
Fergus from the waist down and a thick woollen blanket covered his
shoulders. He sat opposite Dave, his right arm resting on a card
table, his hand holding a large Irish whiskey. The other held a
cigar, which he waved around as he made his point.
    ‘They have no
skill, just speed and strength. Now with a bit of -’
    A voice yelled
‘Incoming!’ and a yowling descended through the evening gloom.
    ‘Oh bugger not
again,’ said Dave, who stood quickly, held his whiskey and cigar
high in the air and took two paces backwards. A dark blue blur
landed on the veranda and sent the table flying. The dog scrambled
to its feet and with claws skidding on the wooden floor, ran
straight back out again.
    Dave shouted at
the departing dog, it sounded like ‘hussen vaver’ and from the
gloom came a growled response of ‘vuvark’
    ‘What was
that?’ asked Fergus.
    ‘Oh, I called
him ‘a dog that likes to sniff its own farts’ and he replied I was
‘an old grey snout who licks his testicles for pleasure,’ said Dave
as he set the table upright and sat down.
    ‘They aren’t
dogs are they? I mean every day, household dogs’
    ‘No lad, they
aren’t,’ said Dave, ‘More your Superdog or Ubermutt. To be
accurate, elite military-trained beings from another world. Think
S.A.S. with four legs, shiny coat, and a wet nose. They specialise
in reconnaissance and diplomatic protection. Not that they talk
about it mind, but the Palaver are terrible gossips.’
    ‘And the
Palaver?’ asked Fergus.
    ‘Finest
infantry in existence, apart from the show tunes that is.’
    ‘So they are
here to protect Earth from things that arrive, like the Honey Bun?’
asked Fergus.
    Dave laughed,
‘The dogs are here due to diplomatic incidents or just plain bad
luck. They are hiding, like many of our visitors. The Palaver come
here to visit the dogs, comrades in arms and all that. We’re just
the local natives; think of the British Empire and how we treated
the indigenous population of our colonies. It’s all a bit hoisted
by our own petard, if you get my drift.’
    ‘I don’t
understand.’
    ‘Give it time
lad, it’ll come,’ said Dave. Just understand this; they are here
for their own benefit. Of course they are fond of our ethnic
traditions, interesting native culture and they allow us a fig leaf
of dignity by letting us think we’re in charge. This is just a safe
haven to them.’
    ‘Like in the
film Casablanca?’ asked Fergus.
    ‘Aye, but put a
sock in it lad, if the Palaver hear you, it’ll be ‘As Time Goes By’
all bloody night. Any road, what about you? What’s your story?’
    ‘Hmm, it’s hard
to know where to start. I’m an orphan, sort of. My parents left me
with my uncle Bran when I was eleven. They went on expedition to
Brazil. They were supposed to return in six months, but they never
came back. I tried to find out what happened. The Brazilian Embassy
denied any knowledge of them, no entry visa, no hotel records,
nothing. I couldn’t find any flight details of them going anywhere.
Their bank accounts were untouched. My uncle helped, but he always
seemed resigned to their disappearance, as if searching for them
was hopeless.
    I suppose I
never really believed they were gone for good. I kept expecting
them to arrive suddenly, all smiles and exotic presents.
    About a year
after that I was packed off to boarding school and my uncle went to
look for them. There was plenty of money, so I never suffered, but
I was lonely and felt a bit sorry for myself. Eventually I just got
on with it.
    I went to a
good school, had friends, a few girlfriends and so on. I stuffed up
my A-levels trying to disprove Quantum Mechanics. It is wrong you
know,