Free Warblegrub and the Forbidden Planet by Andrew Barlow Page A

gleaming red eyes appeared in the passage behind them, they hurled one after another, bringing the building crashing down on top of Fardelbear.
    *
    Lifeless eyes gazed up at Warblegrub and he recognised the look of someone whose last sight had been Fardelbear. His tag read Pt 1993 and Warblegrub wondered what his name had been. Looking round, he saw cars and buildings riddled with bullet holes and another corpse draped over the roof of a van a little further on – Pt 932 – another dead face, pale in the moonlight. He closed his eyes and reached out with his thoughts but there was no sign of the humans nearby. Fardelbear’s brooding presence, however, was ahead.
    Warblegrub hurried past the old man and his dolphins, and followed the trail of destruction through the warehouses, across the wasteland to the harbour, where the warships lay at anchor. Water lapped gently against their hulls and the reflections were almost perfect, but he saw immediately that a submarine was missing. Then he saw Fardelbear, standing at the harbour mouth, gazing into the distance.
    “So you’ve let them escape!” he said when Warblegrub joined him.
    Warblegrub nodded.
    “And you’ve let them get their hands on nuclear weapons!”
    Warblegrub nodded again.
    “Lost sight of the big picture, didn’t you?”
    Once again, Warblegrub nodded.
    “Why?”
    “Because I care about the little picture,” he replied irritably. “It’s the little things that matter to me – like whether someone deserves to die or not!”
    Fardelbear looked at him with incomprehension then shook his head. “That’s no way to manage a universe you know!” And with that he turned back to the sea and dived in.

Chapter Eleven
    Fascinated by the contrast between the savage she-wolf and the two plump infants, suckling as if they were her pups, Alex lingered long in front of the ancient bronze statue, wondering at its meaning. The explanatory note gave the infants’ names as ‘Romulus and Remus’ but before she could read more, she heard footsteps behind her and saw a figure moving in the shadows.
    “It’s an old, old legend,” said a woman.
    As she came into the light, Alex was amazed by her beauty. Her eyes shone like diamonds and her dark complexion was unblemished and perfect in its proportions. Her hair was jet black and she wore a sari of midnight blue trimmed with gold. She peered closely at Alex as if she were one of the artefacts.
    “Who are you?” asked Alex.
    For a moment the woman seemed uncertain. “I’m Shmi,” she replied hesitantly, as if she had almost forgotten. “What’s yours?”
    “I’m 478. Pilot Officer 478.”
    Shmi frowned. “My husband warned me about these numbers.”
    “Your husband! Who’s he?”
    “He’s taken to calling himself Warblegrub .”
    “He’s your husband! ”
    Shmi laughed. “That’s the simplest explanation.”
    Alex drew a deep breath and counted to ten. “I’m Alex,” she said curtly. “Now, what about the others; are they safe?”
    “Others? ”
    “My comrades.”
    “I’m afraid they’re in great danger.”
    “Can you help them?”
    “I’m not sure,” said Shmi, “but we’ll try.”
    Alex looked round the room again. “Where am I?”
    “In my home. My husband rescued you.”
    “Warblegrub? I thought it was Fardelbear!”
    Shmi laughed again. “Heavens no!” she exclaimed. “He’d more likely have eaten you!”
    Curious about this human, who seemed more concerned about her comrades than herself, Shmi peered deep into her eyes, hoping to find the origin of her compassion. Looming large amongst Alex’s memories was a dry, dusty planet, little more than an asteroid tumbling through space; her childhood home, where her people had scratched out a living beneath the flimsy dome that kept the vacuum at bay. Even before the Exile they had been oppressed in their own lands by a neighbouring power and Alex’s family were among those few who had chosen to live illegally outside the