“I don’t quite understand that,” said Eddie. “In fact, I don’t understand it at all.”

“Mister Haley is in our employ. As are many others. However, it appears that Mister Haley overstepped the mark and reported your chum to the police. Mister Haley is what is known as a hick. He’s as dumb as a dancing dingbat.”

“So what do you intend to do?” Eddie asked.

“I am not altogether sure.” The other Eddie pressed buttons on his desk. Other TV screens lit up to display many black and white police cars, all within the confines of the wire-fenced compound, and many armed officers climbing from these cars.

“Tricky,” said the other Eddie.

“Very,” said Eddie. “And at such a difficult time for you. Do you think I might make a suggestion?”

“Well, you might – go on.”

“Well,” said Eddie, “my end is near. I understand that and I have come to terms with it. Would I be correct in assuming that my Jack plunged to his death in that elevator?”

“Well …” said the other Eddie.

“I thought so,” said Eddie. “But no hard feelings. You were doing what had to be done. I understand that.”

“You really are a most understanding little bear.”

“Most,” said Eddie. “So, the police have come for Jack, haven’t they? So why not give them what they’ve come for?”

“Give them his body. That’s a good idea.”

“No,” said Eddie. “That’s a bad idea. That would attract much suspicion. Questions would be asked. Policemen would hang around the crime scene. Bad idea, don’t do it.”

“No,” said the other Eddie. “You’re right. Then what?”

“I’ll tell you what.” And Eddie Bear smiled. And it was a broad one. It was an ear-to-ear.

The other Eddie pressed another button. He had so many buttons on his poo-flecked desk. “Jack,” he called into an intercom. “Jack, are you there?”

“Yes,” said the voice of the other Jack. “I’m here, boss – what do you want? Does that bear need further roughing-up?”

“No, Jack, no. But we have a bit of trouble upstairs. A lot of policemen have arrived. Would you mind going up to speak to them?”

“What do you want me to say to them, sir?”

“Well, you’ll find a big sweaty black one puffing away next to a helicopter. Go up to him and say these words: ‘I give myself up.’ Do you think you can remember that?”

“Well, of course, sir, but I don’t quite understand.”

“All will become clear. Just do it, please – it is a matter of the utmost importance. And a direct order. Do you understand that?”

The voice of Jack said, “Yes, boss.”

The other Eddie switched off the intercom. “I suppose you’d like to watch this on the TV screen,” he said to Eddie. Eddie Bear nodded.

“Could we watch it on all the screens?” he asked.

And Eddie Bear did enjoy the screenings. He enjoyed watching the other Jack shambling over to Police Chief Samuel J. Maggott. He enjoyed the look of surprise and shock on the face of the other Jack, which the other Eddie brought into close-up, when the other Jack found himself surrounded by so many armed policemen. And although he couldn’t actually hear the remonstrations, he enjoyed the shouting faces. And then the truncheonings down and the police boots going in. Eddie did enjoy those boots going in.

Very much indeed.

“Now you see,” said the other Eddie, clearly enjoying it, too, “that makes me laugh. In fact, that is the first time that my comedy sidekick Jack has made me laugh.”

“I’m so pleased that I could be of assistance,” said Eddie, and he rocked somewhat as he said it.

“Oh,” said the other Eddie. “You’re all but gone, aren’t you?”

“All but so,” said Eddie Bear.

“And do you know,” said the other Eddie, “I do feel for you. Somehow. I do, really.”

“Thanks,” said Eddie Bear.

“And look.” The other Eddie pointed to the TV screens. “They’re leaving. All the police are leaving.”

“Glad to be of assistance. Like I said.”

“You’re as genuine as a golden guinea,” said the other Eddie. “I’ll tell you what. As you haven’t much time, I will let you meet Her Majesty. In fact, I will take you to her now. It’s only fair – I owe you. Okay?”

“Okay,” said Eddie. “Thanks.”

“Come on then,” said the other Eddie. “Let’s do it.”

And he pressed yet another button on his desk.

And they did.

23

The flying disc dropped down once more through the floor hole in the poo-splattered office. It drifted downwards and downwards and as it did so Eddie made enquiries regarding its motive power.

He received in reply a stream of technical data, which, even though he repeatedly smote his head in order to aid cogitation, passed over his head, due to its intricate nature.

“And these chickens created you?” asked Eddie as his knee parts wobbled uncertainly. “How did they do that, exactly?”

“You weren’t abducted only the once,” said his other self in reply. “They took you off several times during your tenure as mayor, They grew me from bits of you as one might grow a plant from a seed. Although the technique used was considerably more complicated than that. Would you like me to explain it?”

“No,” said Eddie. “I’m fine, thank you.”

“And of course, during your periods of abduction the chickens put a few ideas into your head regarding social reform in Toy City.”

“What?” went Eddie, in some alarm. “You put ideas in my head? How?”

“It was somewhat easier than you might think – we just added our own special sawdust.”

Eddie now whacked at his furry head. “I feel somehow … dirty” he said.

“Dirty?” And the other Eddie laughed. “If you think that us messing about with your head makes you feel somehow dirty, we won’t broach the subject of the tracking device we stuck up your bum.”

“No,” said Eddie. “I don’t think we will. So where are we going now?”

“To the launch site, of course.”

“Well, of course, where else?”

“We’ll be there in just a moment.”

The flying disc drifted downwards. Eddie viewed once more the massive engines and machinery of the ersatz-chicken production lines and shortly this was above them, as down they continued to the lowermost level of Area 52.

“Now let me ask you this,” said Eddie, “as some bright spark might, if he, she or it were observing this – why would the ‘launch site’ be on the lowermost level of Area Fifty-Two?”

“Good question,” said his other self. “But then why some things are underneath other things has always been a mystery, hasn’t it?”

“Has it?” asked Eddie.

“I watch a lot of TV,” said the other Eddie. “They have these programmes on about archaeology, digging up ancient sites. But the ancient sites are always underground. Along with the ancient roads. How do you explain that, eh? Why are ancient walls always four feet deep in the ground? Where did all that earth come from that has to be dug away? Does it mean that this world is getting bigger every year? Growing and growing? Perhaps that explains why there are so many worlds all next door to each other. What do you think?”

“I think I’m not very well,” said Eddie, and his knee parts gave out.

“On your feet, soldier,” said the other Eddie. “We’re nearly there now, see?”

And Eddie saw and Eddie was impressed.

Afeared also was Eddie Bear, but very much impressed.

They were dropping down now into a massive underground compound, a vast concrete expanse lit by many high-overhead lights, a concrete expanse on which stood at least a dozen spacecraft.

These were of the variety that Eddie had seen before. Like unto the one that had pursued him up the hillside of Toy Town.

Fine-looking tin-plate craft were these, with many rivets, many portholes and those big dome jobbies on the top that proper flying saucers always have.