Free Warblegrub and the Forbidden Planet by Andrew Barlow Page B

settlement camps, free from the cruelty of their fellow man. The price of freedom was hardship and danger, trading with unscrupulous aliens on the black market, but Alex had known the warmth of friends and family, at least for a while.
    In an instant, Shmi ventured deep into her memories and saw a child, sitting on her mother’s lap. She felt a terrible sense of loss. There were flames, flashing lights and screaming sirens, but the memory of what followed was buried very deep and Shmi knew that uncovering it might harm Alex. It had, however, been many years since she had encountered a human and she was unable to resist other, less painful memories. Deepest and happiest were the stories Alex’s mother had told her as they passed the long, cold nights together in the cheerless depths of space; stories collected from all over Earth and passed down the generations, many of which Shmi had also heard.
    One story in particular was a favourite of them both, and her mother’s voice was as clear in Alex’s memory as if she were present: “The Universe came into existence when two opposing forces were balanced. One was female, the other male, and together they created all the opposites that make up the Universe: light and dark, fire and ice, good and evil, and so on. In the beginning the two opposing forces – Yin and Yang – were bound together inside the Cosmic Egg, but there came a time when their struggle caused the Egg to crack and split and the giant Pangu emerged. He grew and grew, pushing apart the earth and the sky, and lived for thousands of years. When he died, his body formed the world: his bones became rock, his flesh soil, his hair the plants, and the fleas and lice – the parasites that lived off him – became humans....”
    “What are you doing?” demanded Alex.
    “I’m so sorry!” Shmi apologised, withdrawing immediately. “I’d forgotten humans like privacy.” In the awkward silence, she turned to the she-wolf and the infants again. “Did you know that one of those little twins – Romulus – founded a mighty city and his descendants ruled half the world?”
    “What about Remus?”
    Shmi frowned. “Romulus killed him.”
    Quickly changing the subject, Alex pointed to a life-sized statue of a kneeling man. “He looks like a soldier. Is there something missing from his hands?”
    “A crossbow; he was an archer, one of an army of such statues; great companies of infantry and cavalry – even chariots – buried with the mad ruler of another vast empire. When he died, he planned to invade Heaven with his terracotta warriors, to cast down the gods and make himself ruler of all realms!”
    “Do you think I’m proud to belong to such an appalling species?”
    “It can’t be easy,” Shmi sympathised, “but you are human and unfortunately that does make you part of the problem.”
    “The problem?”
    “What to do with a species like yours, that refuses to behave sensibly.”
    “But we’re not all guilty….”
    “Not equally guilty,” Shmi conceded, “but you are all responsible and you will stand or fall together.”
    Alex was crestfallen.
    “Don’t be too downhearted. You aren’t all bad – look at all these beautiful things you made!”
    The lights grew brighter and once again Alex’s heart skipped a beat. The whole collection of artefacts appeared to be works of art and she was stunned by the incredible skill with which they had been wrought.
    “I prefer the truly ancient ones,” said Shmi, picking up a small ivory carving of two deer, one following the other. “See, their heads and antlers are thrown back as if they’re swimming.
    Alex was indeed astonished at the skill of the ancient craftsman.
    “It was made with the most primitive of tools,” Shmi continued, “and it’s as fine as anything else in this collection, almost all of which it predates by millennia.”
    “What is this place?” marvelled Alex, looking round.
    “My husband’s collection; he calls it the