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y Park Museum but for the saliva stains and the distinctive cross…hatching marks of mastication。'
'So you know what it was then？'
'Of course； it is Camelus bactrianus； the mon Egyptian Camel。'
There was something very very odd about Camelus bactrianus； the mon Egyptian Camel。 Norman squatted on his haunches in his rented garage upon the Butts Estate and stared up at the brute。 There was definitely something very very odd about it。 Certainly it was a camel far from home and had been called into its present existence by means which were totally inexplicable； even to the best educated camel this side of the Sahara； but this did not explain its overwhelming oddness。 Norman dug a finger into his nose and ruminated upon exactly what that very very oddness might be。
Very shortly it struck him with all the severity of a well…aimed half…brick。 When he had been leading the thing away to his secret hideout； it had occurred to him at the time just how easy it had been to move。 And he recalled that although he； an eight…stone weakling of the pre…Atlas…course persuasion； had left distinctive tracks； the camel； a beasty of eminently greater bulk； had left not a mark。
And now； there could be little doubt about it； the camel's feet no longer reached the ground。 In fact； the creature was floating in open defiance of all the accepted laws of gravity； some eighteen inches above the deck。
'Now that's what I would call odd；' said Norman； startling the hovering ship of the desert and causing it to break wind loudly … a thing which； in itself； might be tolerable in the sandblown reaches of the Sahara； but which was no laughing matter hi an eight…by…twelve lock…up garage。 'Ye gods；' mumbled Norman； covering his nose with a soot…stained pullover sleeve。
It was now that he noticed yet another untoward feature about the animal； which； had it been the property of the now legendary P。T。 Barnum； would no doubt have earned that great showman a fortune rivalling that of Croesus himself： the camel had the appearance of being not quite in focus。 Although Norman screwed up his eyes and viewed it from a variety of angles； the zero gravity quadruped remained a mite indistinct and somewhat fuzzy about the edges。
Norman took out an unpaid milk bill and scrawled a couple of dubious equations upon its rear。 Weight being the all…important factor of his experiment； it was obvious that his calculations regarding molecular transfer were slightly at fault。 He rose from his unfortable posture and； the air having cleared a little； picked up a clump of wisely mandeered cabbage leaves and offered them to the camel； now firmly lodged in the rafters。 The thing； however； declined this savoury morsel and set up a plaintive crying which sent chills up the back of the scientific shopkeeper。
'Ssh。。。 ssh； be quiets； damn yous；' whistled Norman； flapping his arms and searching desperately about for the wherewithal to silence the moaning creature。 Something drastic would have to be done； of that there was no doubt。 This camel； although living proof of his experiment's success； was also damning evidence against him； and its disclosure to the public at such a time； when he stood poised on the very threshold of a major breakthrough； could only spell doom to his plans in dirty big red letters。
Norman groaned plurally。 That must not be allowed to happen。 He had had run…ins with the popular press before； and he knew full well the dire consequences。 Some way or other he would have to dispose of his hovering charge。 Perhaps he could merely await nightfall then drag it outside and allow it to float away upon the wind。 Norman shuddered； with his luck the camel would most likely rise to a point just beyond reach and hang there for all the world to see。 Or far worse than that； it might sweep upwards into an aircraft's flight…path and cause a major disaster。 These thoughts brought no consolation to the worried man。
The camel was still bewailing its lot in excessively loquacious terms and Norman； a man who was rapidly learning the true meaning of the word desperation； tore off his pullover and； having dragged the moaning beastie momentarily to ground level； stuffed the patchworked woolly over its head。 A blessed silence descended upon the lockup； and Norman breathed a twin sigh of relief。 Perhaps； he mused； with its obviously unstable molecular structure the camel might simply deteriorate to such a point that a slight draught would waft it away into nothingness。
This seemed a little cruel； as the camel was something of an unwilling victim of circumstance； and Norman was not by nature a cruel or callous man。 But considering the eventual good which his great quest would bring to the people of Brentford； the shopkeeper considered the sacrifice to be a small and necessary one。
It will thank me for it in the end； he told himself。 To die in so noble a cause。 I shall see to it that a memorial is built； the tomb of the unknown camel。 We might even organize some kind of yearly festival in its honour。 Camel Day； perhaps？ Hold it on Plough Monday； incorporate a few morris dancers in Egyptian garb and a maypole or two； make a day of it。 Yes； the camel had played its part and it would not go unrewarded。
Anyway； thought Norman； if it doesn't simply evaporate I can always speed the process up with a decent…sized weedkiller bomb。
9
Pooley and Omally sat at a secluded corner…table in the Flying Swan。
'I can't understand the Professor；' said Jim。 'Didn't seem to be himself at all。'
Omally shook his head； 'I don't know；' he replied。 'Appeared to me a clear case of keep…the…golfers…guessing。 I suspect that he knows a good deal more than he was letting on to。'
'Not much ever gets by him。 He certainly made short work of the cabbage leaf。'
Omally leant back in his seat and cast his arms wide。 'But where are we？' he asked。 'Nowhere at all！ We have council men doing the impossible at their every opportunity； we have runic ideograms appearing magically upon the ground and camels working their way through the season's produce。 I don't like any of it； it smacks to me of some great conspiracy to confound honest golfers and put them off their game。'
'I suspect that it goes a little deeper than that；' said Jim； 'but I agree that it does nothing to enhance the play。 Perhaps we should quit the allotment now。 Move on to pastures new。 There are several large bombsites down near the docks surrounded by high walls。 I know of a secret entrance or two。'
'Never；' said Omally boldly。 'I have had enough of running。 If we do not make our stand now； the bastards will eventually drive us into the sea and I care little for the prospect of underwater golf。'
'Cork balls；' said Pooley。
'I beg your pardon？'
Bitow Bitow Bitow Bitow Bitow Whap。。。 'What？' Nicholas Roger Raffles Rathbone turned a full circle upon his heel and drove his reddening fists down on to the console of the Captain Laser Alien Attack Machine。 'You bastard！' he said earnestly。 'You bloody sneaked an extra saucer in there。' He turned towards the bar where Neville stood； his ears protected by cotton…wool balls and his hands feverishly at work with the polishing cloth。 'Have you altered this machine？' he cried。
'Get stuffed；' said Neville。
'I know the sequences；' Nick continued unabashed； 'thirty shots； then a big saucer； thirty…eight； then a mother ship。 Somebody has tampered with this machine。'
Neville laid down his polishing cloth； plucked the ineffective cotton plugs from his ears and glowered across the bar。 'No…one has touched it；' he said； his words forming between two rows of teeth which were showing some signs of wear。 'No…one has touched； tampered or tinkered with it。 No official brewery representative has ever called to service it。 No engineers came to polish its paintwork； change its bulbs or fondle its inner workings； nor even to empty it of the king's ransom it must by now contain。 It seemingly never breaks down； nor needs any maintenance； it runs from its own power supply and is a law unto itself。 If you have any plaints I suggest that you address them directly to the machine。 With any luck it will take exception to your manner and electrocute you！'
'Someone's been tampering；' said Nick； delving into his pockets for more two…bob bits； 'I know the sequences。'
The part…time barman turned away in disgust。 'Jim；' he said； beckoning across the counter towards Pooley； 'might I have a word or two in your ear？'
Pooley hastened from his chair； favouring the possibility of a free drink。 'Your servant； bar lord；' said he。
'Jim；' said Neville； gesturing towards the hunched back of the green…haired youth； 'Jim； has Omally e up with anything yet regarding this abomination？ I am at my wits' end。 My letter of resignation is folded into the envelope and the stamp is on。'
Jim chewed upon his lip。 It was obvious that Neville was speaking with great sincerity。 It would be a tragedy indeed if Brentford lost the best part…time barman it ever had。 Especially over so trivial a thing as a gambling machine。
'In truth；' lied Jim with great conviction； 'Omally and I have spent the entirety of the afternoon discussing this very matter。 We were doing so even when you called me across。 We are； I think； nearing a solution。'
'Ah；' said Neville； brightening； 'it is good to know that there are still friends in the camp。 Have this one on the house。'
Pooley sank it at a single draught and strolled back to his seated panion。
'I saw that；' said Omally。 'What have you just talked me into？'
'Nothing much；' said Jim nonchalantly。 'It is just that Neville would prefer it if you would break the space machine now rather than later。'
Omally controlled himself quite remarkably。 'But I was of the impression that the thing is indestructable。 Do you not feel that this small point might put me at a slight disadvantage？'
Pooley nudged his panion jovially in the rib area。 'e now；' he said； 'this should provide a little light relief。 Take your mind off your worries。 What is it that you lads from the old country say？ Do it for the crack； that's it； isn't it。 The crack； eh？'
'The crack？' Omally shook his head in wonder。 As if things weren't bad enough。 He scratched at the stubble of his chin； which through the day had grown into what the Navy refer to as a full set； and cast a thoughtful eye towards the video machine。 'I have an idea；' he said； rising from his seat。 'Perhaps a success here might turn the tide of our fortunes。 Give me a florin。' Pooley began to pat his pockets。 'Give me the florin；' Omally reiterated。 Pooley paid up。
'Now； e Jim；' said the Irishman； 'and we will test the substance of this rogue apparatus。'
Neville the part…time barman watched the silver coin change hands and offered up a silent prayer to the dark and pagan deity of his personal preference。
Nicholas Roger Raffles Rathbone had a pile of not dissimilar coins of the realm stacked upon the chromium roof of the games machine。 He was set in for the night。
'Stand aside； laddy；' said Omally in an authoritative tone。 'My friend here wishes to match wits with these extra…terrestrial laddos。'
'No way；' said Nick； turning not a verdant hair； Tm halfway through a game here。'
Omally leant down towards the youth and spoke a few words into a pointed； tattooed ear。 The scourge of the cosmic mandos stepped aside。 'Be my guest；' he said politely。 'I will explain how it works。'
'That will not be necessary； thank you； off you go then； Jim。'
Pooley shook his head vigorously。 'Not me；' he said； 'these things give out dangerous X…rays。 I'm not having my hair fall out and my fingernails drop off。 No thank you。'
Omally patted his panion on the shoulder。 'Jim；' said he； 'who was it who set fire to my pop…up toaster？'
Pooley could not see the connection； but he nodded guiltily。 'It was me；' he said。
'And who overwound my alarm clock？'
'Also me。'
'And who fiddled with the tuner on the wireless set which had given me good and trouble…free listening for twenty years？'
Pooley looked away。 'Also me；' he said in a whisper。
'And who borrowed my electric razor and。。。 '
'I didn't know you weren't supposed to use soap when shaving electric；' Pooley plained。
'Who was it？'
'Also me。'
'Then you will understand my reasoning th