'Yes. It says that in the encyclopedia.'

'Glad to see you're using it.'

'Yes. It's very interesting.'

'Good. Right. Right, then. Well, I'm going to haveanother look at those accounts.'

'Right.'

'If there's anything you want to talk about, youknow.'

'All right.'

Johnny waited until he heard the living-room doorshut again. He wondered if he ought to have askedwhere the instruction manual for the dishwasher was.

He switched on the computer.

After a while, the screen for Only You Can SaveMankind came on. He watched the introductory bitmoodily, and then picked up the joystick.

There weren't any aliens.

For a little while he thought he'd done something'wrong. He started the game again.

There were still no aliens. All there was, was theblackness of space, sprinkled with a few twinklingstars.

He flew around until he was out of fuel.

No ScreeWee, no dots on the radar screen. No game.

They'd gone.

3

Cereal Killers

There was more news these days than normal. Half thetime the TV was showing pictures of tanks and mapsof deserts with green and red arrows all over them,while in the corner of the screen would be a photo ofa journalist with a phone to his ear, talking in a cracklyvoice.

It crackled in the background while Johnny phonedup Wobbler.

'Yes?''Can I speak to Wob ... to Stephen, please?'Mutter, clonk, bump, scuffle.'Yes?''It's me, Wobbler.''Yes?'

'Have you had a look at Only You Can Save Mankindlately?''No. Hey, listen, I've found a way to''Could you have a go with it right now, please?'Pause.'You all right?''What?''You sound a bit weird.'

'Look, go and have a go with the game, willyou?'

It was an hour before Wobbler phoned back. Johnnywaited on the stairs.

'Can I speak?'

'It's me.'