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  Every single available spotlight was fixed on the new machine. And every face in the room continued to stare at the television set on the bar.
           
           

5
           
            For a long time nothing happened.
            There was a long, overpowering and oppressive silence in the pub. A few muffled conversations were taking place but, generally, few people spoke. At twenty-past eleven Ray Mercer cleared his throat and banged a glass on the bar to attract the attention of his customers. Most people didn’t react. One or two glanced up at him to see what the disturbance was before turning back to face the television set again. `Ladies and gents,’ Ray shouted, seemingly unconcerned at the lack of attention being paid to him. `I don’t know about the rest of you, but I think we need to keep drinking tonight. To hell with the law, we’re going for a late one. We’re staying open.’
            Had Ray made that announcement on any other night his words would have earned him a round of applause and a standing ovation at the very least. Tonight, however, the reaction of his customers was unusually muted and subdued. A steady stream of drinkers continued to make their way quietly to the bar. The television and the ringing of Ray’s till were the loudest sounds to be heard.
            And still the two alien ships hung motionless over the ocean.
            We had amassed a vast collection of empty glasses on our small table and I was alarmed to see just how much drink we had managed to knock back in our extended evening session. I felt fine - completely sober in fact - and that alarmed me too. The alcohol I’d drunk hadn’t had its normal numbing effect on my brain. What was happening out to sea was keeping everyone’s emotions firmly in check and our feet on the ground.
            The next time anyone spoke (other than when they fetched another round of drinks or disappeared off to the toilet) it was well past midnight. Without any of us noticing Friday night had silently disappeared and become Saturday morning.
            `Shit!’ James yelled. He had noticed me checking the time and had looked at his own watch. `Christ, have any of you seen the time? Bloody hell, Steph’ll have my balls if I don’t get back…’ `What?’ Siobhan mumbled, half-listening. Like just about everyone else she was still watching the television screen. `I’ve got to go,’ he said anxiously. `Jesus, I’m in trouble now…’ `She’ll understand,’ Robert yawned. `Just tell her you were watching the television and you got engrossed.’ `Do you really think she’ll buy that?’
            Rob shrugged his shoulders. `Why not? She’s probably sat there at home watching it herself.’ `No,’ James whined, `she’s going to go ballistic. I can’t tell her I’ve been watching telly, can I? Christ, we’ve got three bloody tellies at home. She’ll want to know why I didn’t go back and watch one of those, won’t she?’ `All right then,’ Siobhan sighed. `Why don’t you just go back now and…’
            She suddenly stopped speaking. I looked up from my pint to see that something was finally happening on the television screen.
            The smaller alien ship (which I’d decided was a shuttle craft of sorts) hadn’t moved since it had first drifted down from the belly of the mother ship. Now, without any apparent warning, it had silently raised itself slightly higher into the turbulent air and was being illuminated by the brightest, most brilliant light imaginable. Even more intense than the blinding light which had shone from the other ship’s engines, it flooded the entire scene and it was almost as if the sun had suddenly reappeared in the dark night sky. This new light, however, came from deep within the bowels of the massive ship hovering above. As I stared at the shuttle on the screen a small, rectangular opening appeared in its roof. My tired eyes immediately became bright and