There was a gasp from the multitude. Even a people used to the sight of great Starships had never before witnessed one of such vast structure, such flawless design.

'Isn't she beautiful?' sighed countless male Starship spotters, scanning their bino-scopes over the hull for the registration number.

'Your mummy built that...' murmured countless unmarried teenage mothers to their infants.

'It's a triumph!' exclaimed the Head Reporter, suddenly remembering what his script had written down for this point.

There was a ghostly roar, as if of seas beating on a distant shore that lies beyond the horizon of thought, as hugely, magnificently, the fabulous ship eased its way forward from its construction dock. It then picked up speed, swayed a bit, wobbled a bit, veered wildly and, just as the crowd were about to scream out in disbelieving terror, it vanished. Just like that. It had undergone what was about to become famous as SMEF (Spontaneous Massive Existence Failure).

In just ten seconds, the whole, stupendous enterprise was over.

8

'We're going to put the bathroom here and the door over there,' said Dan.

'It's terrific,' said Nettie. 'But I thought the bathroom was going to be there and the door was going to be over here?' said Lucy.

Why did he always get it so wrong? Dan always made the effort and yet - no matter how hard he tried - the things he and Lucy had discussed only the day before entirely eluded him or came out all garbled.

'That's what I meant,' said Dan.

'It's terrific,' said Nettle. 'But, I have to tell you something...'

She was interrupted by Nigel, who was sniffing around the cellar. 'You can smell the centuries of vinous pleasure oozing from the very brickwork!' he shouted up.

'The place is only a hundred and eighty years old!' Lucy shouted back down.

'It was built as a rectory,' Dan murmured to Nettie.

'Mmm, terrific,' said Nettle. 'But, look, Dan...'

'You're not kidding!' Dan felt the enthusiasm welling up from deep inside him the way it always did when he needed it to. 'We're going to have the restaurant here, on the right as you come in - not your nouvelle cuisine but state-of-the-art Californian. And here there'll be a bar.'

Lucy gave him a withering look, but mercifully she didn't correct him. Oh yes - now he remembered - the restaurant was going to be on the left; it had started off on the right, then they'd changed it to the left, then they'd changed it back to the right again, but then Lucy had pointed out that the kitchen would be better on the other side so they'd gone back to the left. How the hell was he supposed to remember anyway?

'Terrific,' said Nettie. 'But look...' Her voice trailed off as Nigel reappeared. Nettle looked adorable in her simple Gap T-shirt that didn't quite cover her midriff and hand-knitted waistcoat. Nigel put his arm round her.

'Like what you see?' he asked.

'Mmmm,' said Dan.

'I mean the house,' said Nigel. Dan couldn't stand that effortless, slimy superiority that his business partner could turn on and off like a hosepipe of cold water. No wait a minute! Make that 'a business partner'. The Top Ten Travel Company was no more. They had just sold it for what seemed to Dan a ridiculously satisfactory amount of money.

'It's just what Lucy and I have always dreamed of, isn't it, Buttercup?' Dan said. Lucy hated it when he called her pet names in public, but she had never told him, so she blamed herself. She could see he thought she liked it, and the minor deception had been going on for so long now that she couldn't see how she could possibly tell him. How long had they been together? It must be all of thirteen years - in fact since the very early days of the Top Ten Travel Co., when Nigel had chatted her up in a bar in Santa Monica and introduced her to his business partner.

Lucy had originally been strongly attracted by the suave Englishman, but as they'd all got to know each other she found Dan, the quiet East Coast University man, more real and more understandable. In fact, the more they got to know each other, the more she wondered why on earth nobody could see at first glance what a complete sleazeball Nigel was.

'We're going to call it The Watergate Hotel,' said Dan.

'Won't that put off Republicans who still want to bug each other?' asked Nettle.

Nigel patted her tight bottom. 'Go and turn the car around, there's a good girl,' he said. And Nettle trotted off on her high heels down the steps of the elegant early Victorian rectory, into the night.

How can she let him treat her like that, thought Lucy to herself, but said: 'When are you going to sign the final release forms for the company, Dan?'

'Oh er... I'm not sure...' Dan seemed suddenly nervous. 'I don't think Nigel's got them yet...'

'The forms should be waiting for us back at the hotel,' said Nigel before Lucy could explode. Exploding was a reaction to Nigel which she found increasingly natural. However, in this case, the fuse was lit, but would keep burning until they got back to the hotel and found that (surprise! surprise!) the release forms hadn't arrived after all and that that damned delivery company had let Nigel down yet again. Poor Nigel! He always had some excuse or other.

They turned the lights off in the empty house and made their way across the drive in the darkness. Above them, the stars filled the cold night sky with astonishing clarity.

'Why hasn't Nettle turned the car round?' A twitch of irritation gave Nigel's suavity a razor-edge.

When they got to the car, they found Nettie squinting through the lens of a single-reflex Minolta that she had placed on its roof.

'What on earth d'you think you're doing, Bozo?' When Nigel sounded playful he was always at his most dangerous.

'Sh!' said Nettle. 'I'm taking a photo of the house. Don't jog the car.'

'I don't know whether you've noticed, Einstein...' there was sheer joy in Nigel's voice. He loved ridiculing his girlfriends. 'But it's night.'

''Sright!' replied Nettle, not moving her blonde head so much as a millimetre. 'I'm taking a photo called "Dan and Lucy's Hotel Beneath the Stars". It'll look great in the album! Maybe you'll frame it and hang it in the entrance hall?'

'You can't take photos at night unless you've got a flash, Dumbbell.' Nigel opened the car door.

'Hey! You've jogged it!' Nettle screamed out.

'Get in, Brainbox, I'll drive,' said Nigel.

'I guess it was long enough,' said Nettle to Dan. 'Terrific,' said Dan.

They were all just about to get in the car, when a sudden wind swept across the rectory lawn and the trees blew almost as if a hurricane had hit them - except that they blew in all directions.

'Jesus!' exclaimed Dan, gripping the side of the car, 'What was that?'

'Look!' breathed Lucy. She was pointing up in the sky. 'A falling star!'

'Make a wish!' shouted Nettle.

'Holy Moly!' growled Nigel, who was the sort of person who had always preferred Captain Marvel to Superman. 'Will you look at that?!'

Above them, a most extraordinary thing was happening. A ring of cloud had suddenly formed immediately overhead and then spread out - like a nuclear explosion - until the entire sky was covered by a broiling layer of evil-looking cloud. Nigel went weak at the knees; Lucy shuddered; Dan felt his stomach jump and Nettle simply gaped.

But there was more to come.

The four Earth-folk heard a ghostly roar, as if of seas beating on a distant shore that lies beyond the horizon of thought, and then hugely, magnificently, and without warning a vast metallic prong descended from the cloud and sliced their elegant former Victorian rectory (with planning permission for commercial development) in two.