Free Einstein's Underpants--And How They Saved the World by Anthony McGowan

it moves, have a polite chat with it.
    Part 2: After the chat, say cheery-bye, and exchange Christmas cards for the next few years, until one of you forgets or you make some new friends, or you just drift apart and don’t really see the point any more. Part 3:Then possibly eat them. But only maybe. You know, if there’s nothing else in the fridge.
    The conspiracy had not reached thepoint of mutiny. Jlatt was merely compiling a list of grievances and complaints, which he’d accidentally left in the lavatory. The list was taken to Thlugg, and Jlatt’s fate was sealed.
    It was all over in a few minutes. Thlugg slithered off the remains of Jlatt – little more than a stain, shaped, as stains so often are, like Australia.
    The point had been made. The scene had been broadcast live to the rest of the ship, smellocasters carrying each sniff of action to every corner of the vessel. There would be no more dissent. Admiral Thlugg vented a long, slow, satisfied gaseous exhalation. It smelled of Jlatt. And cheese.

CHAPTER 23
    THE PICTURE IN THE NUMBERS
    THAT EVENING ALEXANDER was lying on his bed, mulling over the events of the day: the distinctly strange recruitment campaign, the first titanic battle, the way they’d become a team, forged in the heat of war. And of course there was the added bonus that they would never have to worry about Big Mac again. Yes, all in all it had been a good day. It hardly seemed to matter whether Otto’s ideas were crazy or not.
    Then he heard the little electronic tune from his laptop speakers that meant someone wanted to videochat. The only person who ever tried to videochat with Alexander was Melvyn, and it was never very successful. They’d spend about ten minutes gettingit properly set up, and then find they had nothing much to say except, ‘Well, bye then.’ ‘Yeah, see you tomorrow.’
    He got something of a shock, then, when he went to his desk and saw what was on his laptop screen. For a second he thought it might actually be one of the bloodthirsty aliens Uncle Otto had raved about. Its head – Alexander knew it was a head because it was perched on top of a pair of shoulders – seemed to be made entirely of a shiny metallic substance, except for two deep black eyes.
    â€˜Do not be alarmed.’
    The voice was grating and metallic, yet strangely familiar.
    â€˜Who the heck . . . ?’ said Alexander. Then he realized. ‘Otto, where are you? And why have you got a load of silver foil wrapped around your head?’
    â€˜Otto? Otto? Never heard of him. I am Mr Reginald Fly.’
    Then Uncle Otto lifted up the silver foilwrapping and winked at Alexander, adding in a whisper, ‘This messes with their reception. I’m in the computer room at St Mungo’s psychiatric unit. We get half an hour’s Internet access a day. I’ve been doing more research.’ He replaced the foil mask and continued urgently, ‘I’ve hacked into the NATO Combined Command computer systems. I was looking for evidence of their preparations. BUT THEY ARE NOT PREPARED. THEY ARE NOT PREPARED AT ALL. We are wide open. Like little lambs gambolling in the field as the wolf approaches. Luckily, I have found a few kindred spirits. Others like myself. I have made contact through the Internet. We’ve been watching and waiting. Some, of course, are cranks. Others are great geniuses, almost matching my own stature. They have confirmed my findings. In fact, they have widened my understanding. The Earth is confronted with more than one peril. The lambs are not just faced with the prowlingwolf, but with fire, flood, plague, famine. The universe itself is turning against us.’
    â€˜The universe? What do you mean, Uncle?’ Something about Otto’s tone utterly unnerved Alexander. There was a new seriousness that commanded respect.
    The metal-faced Otto paused as if considering great matters. ‘No,’ he said at last.