"Ur," said Bigmac. "Yuk."

"I think she's alive," said Johnny. "I'm sure I heard a groan."

"Er ... I know first aid," said Yoless, uncertainly. "Kiss of life and stuff."

"Kiss of life? Mrs Tachyon? Yuk," said Bigmac.

Yoless looked very worried. What seemed simple when you did it in a nice warm hall with the instructor watching seemed a lot more complicated in an alleyway, especially with all the woolly jumpers involved. Whoever invented first aid hadn't had Mrs Tachyon in mind.

Yoless knelt down gingerly. He patted Mrs Tachyon vaguely, and something fell out of one of her many pockets. It was fish and chips, wrapped in a piece of newspaper.

"She's always eating chips," said Bigmac. "My brother says she picks thrown-away papers out of the bin to see if there's any chips still in 'em. Yuk."

"Er ... " said Yoless desperately, as he tried to find a way of administering first aid without actually touching anything.

Finally Johnny came to his rescue and said, "I know how to dial 999."

Yoless sagged with relief. "Yes, yes, that's right," he said. "I'm pretty sure you mustn't move people, on account of breaking bones."

"Or the crust," said Wobbler.

Mrs Tachyon

Mrs Tachyon had always been there, as long as Johnny could remember. She was a bag lady before people knew what bag ladies were, although strictly speaking she was a trolley woman.

It wasn't a normal supermarket trolley, either. It looked bigger, the wires looked thicker. And it hurt like mad when Mrs Tachyon pushed it into the small of your back, which she did quite a lot. It wasn't that she did it out of nastiness well, it probably wasn't - but other people just didn't exist on Planet Tachyon.

Fortunately, one wheel squeaked. And if you didn't get accustomed to moving away quickly when you heard the squee ... squee ... squee coming, the monologue was another warning.

Mrs Tachyon talked all the time. You could never be quite certain who she was talking to.