20 Sci-fi superstories hit the pages of "The Vyton" - sniff at two of them now...

A ping at the iris door. I looked. It spiralled open. Unusual to have anyone entering the works unit from that direction. Especially without anyone confirming the release of the locks. Must be someone official, I thought. But it was too far away, across all the equipment and workers’ heads to see who came in. It wasn’t my place to investigate visitors: I’m merely Operations Gaffer today, and this wasn’t my usual area, anyway.

I could make out two of the pipemen backing away from the entrance, pressing against the walls. Someone they don’t like the look of. Curious, I watched as a four-squad of black uniforms stomped into our water-recyc and production centre. Wonderful. Just what I need – disruption to the schedule. After all the trouble it was to fix it smooth these past few days.

The minder quartet stood – Still, Black and Silent – like they always do when they invade the works units. Better let them proceed as they will. There’s no preventing them, or even asking them.

Briefly checking their carry-pads, they looked round, pointing, beckoning, demanding....

Looking my way... Pointing at me...

Squaring up, To attention, fixed on me....

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Landscaping

The message from the Outer Reaches was first received one Wednesday teatime, GMT. This was conveniently while the Six O’Clock News was on the BBC. It continued on a constant loop.

The great governments and international agencies of Earth failed to understand the message, although their greatest cryptographers, linguists and scientists struggled through endless coffee breaks trying to decipher, translate or otherwise decrypt the strange howling gibbering sounds.

Until Saturday morning, when Jessie Jenkins looked out her window during a re-run of Love Island, and noticed the arrival of a huge fleet of vast space ships.

‘Ooh, it looks as if Big Brother has arrived up there, as well,’ she said. ‘Like a dark speckled band they are. Wonder what they want?’

The alien fleet took up position in an equatorial orbit, from twenty degrees north to twenty south.

The great governments and international agencies of Earth bombarded the alien invaders with their massed communications, threats and close approaches. They all went apparently unheeded by the orbiting horde.

Until, on the Thursday evening, an Emmerdale watcher named Maud Willkins realised, ‘This is the kind of gibberish I watch and understand. It began on Star Wars and carries on through every Soap in Britain and Australia.

Comprehending this alien broadcast, she listened more intently than ever before, and actually managed to understand the whole thing; something that had never occurred in her life before. So she texted the great governments and international agencies of Earth and told them what it was all about.

She translated as far as, “The Galactic Council, Cygnus Arm Branch, will hold the tri-annual land-forming competition on Earth this year. They will require Eurasia for the first round of sixteen planetary re-formers; and Africa for the next round—”

This was when her battery failed, so that was as much as she managed to understand.

By the time she had finished watching Drag Weddings, there was a great ringing of doorbells, shouting through the letterbox, chirruping of her re-charging mobile, and an interruption to live broadcasts on the telly....

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