11 Serialisation of the book 'Uprising' 1st book in the 'Corpalism' series - by Arun D Ellis

Able Duck
A thing is not necessarily true because a man dies for it.
Oscar Wilde


“Well?” asked Sandra, “how’d it go?”

He smiled at her, recognising but not quite understanding her anxiety, “it went alright.”

“Is that it? You were in there ages, what did he say?”

“He just asked me about my job and how I got here,” said Terry.

“And did you tell him?” asked Sandra. He nodded, and she went on “And what did he say?”

“Not much really,” said Terry.

“Come on,” said Sandra, “stop messing around, what did he say?”

“Well he didn’t really say much... Come to think of it, I did most of the talking.”

“Well, what did you say then?” asked Sandra.

“I told him about my work in Relocations, what went wrong and how I got dumped here,” said Terry, “that’s it really.”

“And how did he react?” asked Sandra, “What did he say?”

“Not a lot really,” said Terry, “he just listened and, well he just listened and said the occasional thing like, yeah or nodded his head.”

He and Sandra both fell silent; Terry going over in his head what exactly he’d said in the face of what had amounted to a mild interrogation and Sandra reflecting on what it might mean for the future of their relationship.

“Well you know him,” said Terry, breaking what was turning into an uncomfortable silence, “what does it mean?”

She shrugged “Guess he was just checking you out.” Terry nodded, making a face, “Before he introduces you to the group, did he mention when he would do that?”

“He said something about putting me forward and that the group would have to meet me first before they approved me but I don’t really even know if I want to join the group.”

“Oh but you must,” said Sandra. “it’s really important.”

“Why important?”

“Well important to me,” said Sandra.

∞

Donald and Don slipped out the back of Tom Dyer’s house, climbed the wall at the end of the garden, slipped through the allotments, finally coming to rest at the back of the disused railway cutting. They’d been careful not to damage any produce; Tom’d had complaints from his neighbours in the past about people using the allotments as a short cut and complaints had a way of coming to the wrong ears.

“Well?” whispered Don, the need for caution ingrained. “Sandra’s new boyfriend, what do you think?”

“Don’t know, son,” his dad mused, “he’s an odd one, that’s for sure.”

“We shouldn’t have let him in,” said Don.

“Too late for that.”

“I know,” said Don, “but Sandra should know better, she’s compromised the group.”

“I don’t think it’s that bad, son, I’m not sure he’s too bright. And I don’t think he’s pig.”

“How can you be sure?” demanded Don, “I mean he’s just turned up.”

“We all just turn up,” said Donald.

“Yeah,” said Don, “but we usually suss someone out before we invite them to the meetings.”

“Sandra must have thought he was OK.”

“Oh come on Dad,” said Don, “do you really believe that’s the same thing?”

“She obviously likes him,” said Donald, “but I agree we need to be cautious.” He narrowed his eyes in reflection, “I think I’ll stop by his place of work in a day or two.”

“How will you work that?”

“Leave it to me”.

∞

Sgt Dick Carter checked his watch, 03:30 hrs. He was waiting for Team 2 to confirm their position, then when the target was in place he would give the go ahead. Behind him in the back of the 4x4, or to give it its full name, Guardian Armoured, his 3 man team waited. This was always the difficult bit; the adrenalin coursing, nerves stretched…

“Who the fuck just farted? Fuckin’ ‘ell…you’re an animal, Pope.”

“You shouldn’t do that in here.”

“Push him out, Bates, he needs a fuckin’ shit, fuckin’ animal.”

“Shut up back there, Jones” snapped Dick, “keep it down, you’re on duty.”

“Open the hatch,” said Jones.

“Don’t you dare,” hissed Dick, “just fuckin’ live with it and Pope, don’t do it again, d’you hear?”

“Sarge,” said Pope.

“Shit,” said Jones, “I think I’m gonna die.”

“We should dump him off here and make him walk all the way back,” said Bates.

“Yeah,” agreed Jones, “good idea.”

Pope smiled beatifically.

∞

Terry poured a glass of water and went to bed. He was tired and somewhat troubled. He liked Sandra and her dad seemed ok, though her brother was a bit irritating. He wondered about her mum – no-one had mentioned her and he hadn’t liked to ask. None of that mattered too much, he could live with that; it was just Sandra who troubled him. It would make things difficult, but then, if you think about it, when are things ever easy?

∞

“I don’t get why you always do that,” said Jones. Pope ignored him, kissed his crucifix and tucked it inside his tunic.

“Leave it, Jonesey,” said Bates, “it’s his beliefs.”

“I know,” said Jones, “but it really winds me up, none of that shit helps anyone” Pope closed his eyes and started to mumble a prayer. “He’s off again, waste of fuckin’ time talkin to him.”

“Just because you don’t believe,” said Bates, “why give him a hard time?”

“I’m not,” said Jones, “but it’s just stupid to think all that religious stuff will help. It’s like wearing lucky underwear...”

“I always take my lucky hip flask,” said Bates.

“Oh ...Don’t tell me …it stopped a bullet or something.”

“No,” said Bates, lifting the flask to his lips, “but it’s got a nice drop of whiskey in it.”

“Well now, that I can understand,” said Jones, reaching across for a sip, “… makes perfect sense, but kissing a chunk of fuckin’ metal, that’s just stupid.”

“It’s a holy crucifix,” said Pope, “from the Sistine Chapel in the Vatican City itself and it was dipped in holy water before they sold it.”

“What!” exclaimed Jones, “you’re kidding me, dipped in holy water, that’s bollocks.”

“Ignore him,” said Bates, passing his flask to Pope, “you know what he’s like; he’ll be on about this for hours now.”

“I just can’t believe that in the 21st Century people still believe in a fairy tale,” said Jones, “in a book written by a bunch of Jews over 2,000 years ago, my god, they believed that the stars were holes in the sky that god looked down out of..”

“Leave it, Jonesey,” said Bates.

“It’s alright,” said Pope, “he’s a bigot and he’s in the minority.”

“Oh really?” said Jones.

“Really,” said Pope, “millions of people around the world believe in the Catholic Faith and the one true God.”

“Oh, so not evolution, then?”

“Too much is made of that,” said Pope, “in fact the whole argument is flawed.”

“Hey, you lot – break it up” the Sarge’s voice was a hissed shout and he threw a beaker at Jones to amplify the point. “We’ve got a job to do here.”

“Yeah, sorry, Sarge” Jones look abashed for a moment and then whispered “Flawed? How?”

“Oh come on,” said Pope, “think about it - could something as complex as the eye just evolve and evolve to work with the brain, how does that happen?”

“Evolution.”

“And don’t forget the hundreds of different types of eyes out there…how did…” said Pope.

“I think you’ll find that’s natural selection.”

“I listened to you,” Pope’s voice was thick with conviction, “now you give me a chance, right.”

“Yeah, come on, Jonesey,” said Bates, “give him a chance, but keep it down both of you.”

“Or are you worried that I’ll prove God exists?” said Pope.

“Of course not,” said Jones, “go on then, I’m listening.”

“Right,” said Pope, “just think, 200 years ago we didn’t have TV, cars, rockets or any of that”

“This just proves my point – man’s created things as would’ve been a ‘miracle’ in the past.”

“But,” said Pope, “if man can make these things now, can do wonders with genetics and stuff, then what he will be able to do in a 100 years from now?”

“Again, proves my point.”

“But supposing there was already a Supreme Being who could already do all these things and more,” said Pope.

“Oh what?” said Jones, “that’s just a bollocks argument.”

“No, it’s not,” said Pope, “a Supreme Being like God could create the universe, the galaxies and man.”

“That’s just using the advance of man to justify believing in superstitious mumbo jumbo.”

“No it’s not,” said Pope.

“Of course it is, and anyway, what about the Big Bang?”

“Oh,” said Pope, “you people are always on about the ‘Big Bang’, so what came before your big bang? How did this so-called big bang happen?”

“I don’t know, but the Big Bang happened and kicked everything out there and life….”

“Oh yeah,” said Pope, sensing victory “the big bang just happened did it? How? I mean first there was nothing, then there was something and this something caused the big bang from which matter suddenly appeared, how?”

“I don’t know all the technical stuff,” said Jones, “but I do know the universe is hundreds of millions of years old. The church thinks it’s only a few thousand years old.”

“The Bible makes it quite clear when God created the universe,”

“Oh yeah, and where does it say about the dinosaurs? I can’t remember that bit, what page is that on?”

“I’m not sure about the dinosaurs, Jonesey.” this from Bates, a muttered comment.

“The bible doesn’t mention the dinosaurs because they are just an atheist hoax,” Pope drew strength from Bates’ muttered support.

“What?” Jones erupted, ignored the shushing Bates and stuck his face into Pope’s. “Are you kidding me? A hoax? They’ve got skeletons in museums and shit.”

“You lot, shut the fuck up.” the Sarge’s voice acted like cold water on the discussion and they sat for a few moments in subdued silence, glaring at each other.

“Yes but,” ventured Pope, softly, “no-one’s ever seen one”

“What d’you expect? They died out 60 million years ago.” Jones’ comment lost a lot of punch from being uttered in a whisper.

“Oh how convenient,” said Pope. “Someone finds bones of animals that supposedly lived here on earth millions of years ago, just as Darwin starts on about evolution….” Jonesey’s mouth stretched, “an you don’t see a fit up?...the atheists want to destroy religion, the communists want to overthrow the state and the monarchy so they discredit the Bible by finding these bones that ‘prove’ the world is older than the Bible says and that man wasn’t here first…”

“That’s crazy,” said Jones, “the dinosaurs existed, and everyone knows that.”

“I’m not convinced, Jonesey” said Bates, a bit louder this time “I always thought they were a bit odd.”

“What?” demanded Jones, turning to face down this new threat.

“Yeah,” said Bates, “I’m not saying I believe in god or anything just that I can’t see how anything as big as a dinosaur could’ve existed.”

“Why the fuck not?” Betrayal from this quarter had not been expected.

“Well,” began Bates, “I just think they’re too big, they’d’ve been eating all day and all night.” Pope nodded in approval. “And by all accounts they didn’t move all that well, so I just don’t get how they could’ve survived for so long,”

“But they were the most successful creatures ever,” said Jones, “ever!”

“I know what they say on Discovery, but I’m just not convinced.” He was on a roll now, ignoring the reddening of Jones’ face. “I could see a scientific conspiracy to move people away from religious beliefs or maybe even a political or communist effort to discredit religion, you know, there have been bigger conspiracies.”

“You’re taking the piss,” said Jones.

“I’m not saying I’m religious, I just don’t know what to think really.”

Suddenly the com crackled into life, “Tango Two in position, out.”

Sgt Dick Carter grabbed his radio, “Eagle 1, Eagle 1, this is Tango One, out.”

“Tango One, this is Eagle 1, package is ready for collection, out.”

“Tango Two, this is Tango One, GO, GO, GO, out.”

“Let’s do it boys,” snarled Dick, scrambling through the door and hitting the pavement at a run.

∞

The first Terry knew about Able Duck (oddly named or not) was a thunderous crash and a whole lot of voices, all it seemed shouting at once. He found himself at a major disadvantage; naked and in a prone position covered by a duvet which they were using to hold him down, dazed from sleep, shocked by the sudden violence of the attack, stunned by the noise and blinded by his assailants’ torches. Three minutes later he was being bundled out the front door of his flat, still naked, blood streaming from a deep gash in his scalp, two bruised ribs and his left eye swelling shut. With his one good eye he just about made out that his assailants were four heavily armed policemen.

“Move! Move! Move,” shouted Pope, still on a high from the action.

“Okay,” yelled Dick into his radio, “bring her round.” Then, shouting louder than Pope “Get him on the ground and tag his hands,”

Terry tried to struggle free, kicking out at Jones’ stomach as he did so.

“Fucking bastard,” hissed Jones, “Taser him, Bates.”

“Stand back!” instructed Bates, “Taser! Taser! Taser!”
Moments later Terry was writhing on the ground.

“If he tries anything, hit him with it again, Bates.”
Just then the Guardian screeched round the corner and braked just in front of Terry’s head.

“Right,” yelled Dick, “get him inside the cage, let’s go, let’s go.”

It only took a few seconds for them to throw Terry’s still twitching body into the back of the wagon, slam the door shut and climb aboard.

“This is Tango One, Tango One,” said Dick into the com, “target has been acquired. Tango Two stand down.” Dick waited for Tango Two’s response,

“Tango Two, Tango Two, returning to base out,” said Dan.

Cheers for reading

Arun






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