“You’re doing fine. You’re doing fine.”

“I’m not doing fine. I’m all in and out of my body.”

“Soon,” said the other Eddie, “there will be peace for you. Peace for you and all your kind. Eternal peace. What better peace than that, eh?”

“None much better,” said Eddie. “None much … better.”

“Come on then, up the gangway. This way, come. Come on now.”

And Eddie was led to the mothership.

And it had to be said that the interior of the mothership looked just the way that the interior of a mothership should look. Your basic pilot’s seat, of course, in the cockpit area, with the steering wheel and the gear levers and the foot pedals. And the computer jobbies with the blinking lights. And the coffee machine.

“Whoa,” went Eddie. “So this is what the inside of a spaceship looks like. What does that do?”

“You don’t really have the time to concern yourself with that,” said the other Eddie.

“Does it matter?” Eddie asked. “What does that do?”

“That does the steering. That’s the steering wheel. Those are the foot pedals. Those are the weapons panels. That button there activates the, well, how shall I put this? Death ray, I suppose. It’s as accurate as a time-clock at a Golden Chicken Diner. And they are really accurate, believe me.”

“Oh, I do,” said Eddie. “All the controls look so simple.”

“Oh, they are. They really are. You can complicate things to death, but it’s not necessary. The more advanced technology becomes, the more user-friendly it becomes. The more simple to use.”

“I’ll bet I could have flown this,” said Eddie. Wistfully.

“I just bet you could have, too. But never mind.”

Eddie sank down heavily into the pilot’s seat. “I think I’d like to go to sleep now,” he said in a very drowsy, growly kind of a voice.

“Well, perhaps you should,” said the other Eddie.

“But I really would like to meet Her Majesty. Do you think I could have a glass of water, or something? Or better a glass of beer. My very last glass of beer. I’d like that very much.”

“Oh, I think that could be arranged.”

A chicken in a uniform clucked words into the other Eddie’s ear.

“And at something of the hurry-up,” said the other Eddie. “It’s two minutes to take-off. Her Majesty is already on board and we must prepare for Operation Take Out Toy City.”

“Well done on the name,” said Eddie Bear.

“I’ll just get you a glass of beer. You just sit and relax.”

And the other Eddie took his leave and Eddie sat and sighed.

And, “Oh,” sighed Amelie also as Chief Inspector Wellington Bellis presented her with another short warm drink with plenty of alcohol in it.

And, “Oh,” sighed Tinto, as he knew that Chief Inspector Wellington Bellis had no intention of paying for this or any other drink.

And, “Oh-oh,” went laughing policemen as they knocked other things on the floor and laughed more as they broke.

And, “Oh,” went the feisty female officer in Police Chief Sam Maggott’s office as a blur of blood and guts enveloped her.

And, “Oh,” went Eddie Bear as he sank lower and lower over the flying saucer’s dashboard.

And oh it was to be hoped that there might have been some kind of something, some kind of solution to all this trouble and strife.

And then, “Oh,” and, “Holy Mother of God!” Sam Maggott drew his gun from his shoulder holster. And the feisty female officer and the troubled detective did their own particular forms of Oh-ing as a fierce metallic skull-type jobbie burst out through the top of the other Jack’s head.

And another “Oh” was heard, and this from the other Eddie. It was an “Oh” of surprise, and one of alarm also. Because in the cockpit of the flying saucer, Eddie Bear had slammed his paw onto the ignition button and caused the engines to roar and the chicken crew to panic and flee.

And then all sorts of extraordinary things occurred.

Which caused more Oh-ings all round.

24

“Oh no, no, no,” said the other Eddie, returning to the cabin with a beer. “The last thing we need right now is for something extraordinary to occur – we are running to a tight schedule.” And he lifted Eddie’s paw from the ignition button. And the powerful engines stuttered and died and all was at peace once more.

Much peace.

“You see,” said the other Eddie, and he grinned at Eddie Bear, “it is this way and …” The other Eddie paused. Eddie Bear was slumped back in the pilot’s seat. His button eyes were crossed and his mouth drooped oddly at the corners.

“Eddie?” went the other Eddie, shaking Eddie Bear. “Eddie, wake up now. We can’t have you dying on us just yet. We haven’t kept you alive all this time, when we could simply have killed you, for no purpose. There are things we need to know from you. Eddie, wake up. Eddie?”

But Eddie Bear would not wake up.

Eddie Bear could not wake up.

His head rolled forward, his shoulders sank.

Eddie Bear was dead.

25

“That is most inconvenient.” The other Eddie called out to the chicken crew who had now returned to their duties tinkering with electronic doodads and ticking things off on clipboards. “Toss him out of the hatchway, will you? No, on second thoughts, dump him in the hold. We’ll deliver him home, toss him out when we make our first pass over Toy City.”

The chickens cackled with laughter, the way chickens will, and two of their number hauled the lifeless Eddie from the pilot’s chair and carried him away to the hold.

“Right then,” said the other Eddie, seating himself in the pilot’s chair and strapping himself in for good measure. Because you should never pilot a flying saucer without following all safety procedures, which include wearing your seat belt, putting your beer into the little holder on the arm of your chair, extinguishing your cigarette, of course, switching off your mobile phone and knowing where the exit doors are in case of a crash. Oh, and that business regarding the inflatable life jacket with the little whistle attachment, although no one ever really pays any attention to that because everyone knows full well that when whatever means of flying transportation you happen to be travelling in falls from the sky and hits either the ground or the sea, there really aren’t going to be any survivors to inflate their life belts or blow their little whistles.

“Calling all craft,” said the other Eddie, slipping a pair of bear-stylie headphones over his ears. The ones with the little face-mic attachment. “Calling all craft.”

Headphone speakers crackled, chicken voices cackled.

“Oh goody,” said the other, well, now the remaining Eddie. “All present and correct, splendid. Well, ladies, you have all been briefed for this mission. It is of the utmost importance, in order to put overall plans for the domination of this world and our imminent expansion into the world of Toy City into action, that this mission goes without a hitch. I want this done by the numbers, ladies, smooth formation following my lead. Through The Second Big O of the Hollywood sign, full speed ahead to Toy City, then on with the evil soul-sucking death rays, hoover up the population. And then nuke Toy City.”

Rather surprised chicken cackles crackled through the remaining Eddie’s headphones. There had been no previous briefings regarding any nukings.

“I know, ladies, I know. But let’s face it – Toy City is something of a dump. The clean-sweep approach is probably for the best. Negotiating with the humans there will be such a long-winded process that I feel we should simply take the lot of them out in one fell swoop and have done with it. What say you?”