The God Complex: The Book Of Alan, Destroyer Of Worlds

Chapter Seventeen

"BREAKING 'S NEWS' ALERT: In a new study, EDEN scientists estimate that the controlled atmosphere out in space will actually prolong life expectancy. Yet another reason to praise Supreme Leader Abaddon – Saviour of humanity: Not only will EDEN save your life, it will increase it as well."

By the time Monkey had rushed Gabe through the building and out of the main gates, Jaibles was waiting in the moonlight of mid-morning and looking more than a little disorientated.

'Got your message, Monkey. What's so urgent it couldn't wait? Oh hey Gabe, you look like crap.'

'We got to get as far away from this place as possible, Geezer. I'll explain along the way.'

'I know just the place, follow me.'

Their footsteps echoed through the narrow-cobbled streets until they reached the familiar sights and smells of the bar - It was dark inside and even more deserted than usual.

The old bartender was still sitting behind his bar, arms folded with a single untouched shot of bourbon in front of him. The light of his small TV flickered across his grizzled features; he barely glanced as they entered.

'What can I do for you gentlemen,'he said sluggishly, still transfixed on his programme.

'Good morning, sunshine,' said Jaibles as Monkey and Gabe slumped at a table in the furthest corner of the bar. 'My pal's chances of making it off this planet have just taken sharp plummet south, so we're hoping to grab a few drinks.'

The bartender glanced across to Gabe and Monkey, eyeing them suspiciously before going back to watching his TV. 'You know I only got bourbon.'

'Of course, that's why I keep coming back. Any chance you also have a jar of gherkins lying around back there?' Said Jaibles pressing himself against the bar to look behind it.

'I do,' said the old man. 'If it's a pickleback you're after, then just come out and say it.'

'Sorry old timer, desperate times calls for double measures.' Jaibles eyebrows danced flamboyantly on his forehead, but they danced for no one as the old man, without once looking away from his programme, leaned back from his chair and collected six shot glasses, a jar of gherkins and a bottle of bourbon.

'Right, well thanks then Treacle,' said Jaibles unwilling to admit defeat. 'Watching anything good?'

'Nope.'

'Okaaay. Well can I give you something for the drinks?'

The old man broke his gaze and stared at Jaibles with growing frustration. 'Got no use for money; got no use for anything anymore. Long as you leave the place unharmed, leave me a few bottles for when the end comes, and above all, leave me in Goddamn peace, you can take what you need.'

'Can do,' said Jaibles with a wink, putting a bottle in each pocket of his leather coat. 'One last thing,' he said, grabbing all six glasses with both hands. 'Do you mind if we put your jukebox on? It's been one Hell of a morning and the last thing those boys need are intoxicated moments of unhelpful silent reflection.'

'Do what you like,' he said, waving him away. 'But I warn you, there's no reasoning with it.'

Jaibles walked over to the jukebox and kicked the switch with his boot, lighting up the lonely corner of the bar in a flashdance of neon, illuminating its hidden past: the scuff marks on the floor, chips in the wood and scratches on the old punk and rockabilly posters that lined its walls each told of lost nights and the crowded revelry of a live band - back when people still did that sort of thing.

Jaibles pushed a few buttons and retreated back to his friends, depositing their drinks on the table.

'Apparently it's got a mind of its own,' he said, taking his seat as the jukebox whirred through its archives and loaded its choice.