The First Chapter – (by Director Danny)

“Promise me you’ll get a haircut,” Thatcher said, with his hand on Harrison’s shoulder. “In fact, I’m begging you to.”

Harrison smiled without due consideration and leaned towards the palm tree behind him.

“I might, I might not. I will see if I get time for it,” he said. “I quite like it like this.”

“Well, for someone who’s supposed to help with keeping a place clean and tidy, you have relatively untidy hair,” Violet said in a joking but mild manner.

“You look nothing like a butler,” Florence said with a smirk, petting the little monkey on her shoulder.

“Oh, but I’m everything but a butler. I am the local entertainer, cook, mental support, chimney sweep, official ribbon-tier, nanny…“, and he gave the girls a beaming smile. “…pet caretaker, substitute hair brusher and banana peeler in cases of fractured arms, lost-monkey finder, gold fish feeder, brave rescuer of drowning young girls in oceans and fish ponds …“

The girls rolled their eyes. They had heard this list several times before, even though it had grown over the years. Florence deliberately interrupted the owner of all of these grand titles.

“All right, all right, we know, you are magnificent, courageous, splendid, marvellous…“

“…superb, fantastic, apparently ostentatious…” continued Violet.

“…excessively flamboyant, slightly narcissistic… all in all you are undeniably one of a kind. We shall miss you,” Thatcher ended with a slight pull in the corner of his mouth, giving Harrison a sturdy pat on the shoulder.

“Oh, don’t act like I’m not,” Harrison chortled and gave each of the girls a giant hug. He took a step back. “I will miss you too, but I’ll only be gone for two weeks. No need for long faces.”

At his words, the girls put on exaggeratedly sad faces.
Harrison laughed loudly before he went on the ship, which started moving away from the island.

“Goodbye!” he shouted as he waved. “Take care of the monkeys!”

“Oh, we will!” shouted the girls, waving wildly.

“And their pets, Thatcher!” continued Harrison with a thundering laugh.

The big boat moved further and further from the shore, and soon he was out of sight.

*

The next few days passed on more or less as days usually did, and the girls spent their days taking it easy. They could feel the absence of the butler. It was indeed quieter. Harrison would always walk around singing while dusting the house in the lack of anything else to do.

The girls were outside the house, in the sun. Violet, who was sitting carelessly on a bench by the fish pond and reading, started humming a song that Harrison would always sing loudly. Generally, he would be singing it in the living room, and the girls would just as usual be sitting outside by the pond, and still hear him.

“How long ago was it he left last time?” Florence asked, standing in the pond with water to her ankles.

“I believe it was almost two years ago,” Violet answered absent-mindedly, her nose in the book.

“We should’ve gone with him this time.”

Violet looked up at her sister, suddenly alert.

“Gone with him?”

“What, don’t you want to see the world?” Florence disputed.

She bent down and picked up one of the gold fishes, and looked at it intently. Violet sighed and looked at her sister. The book lay forgotten in her lap.

“Well, yes, I suppose…” Violet began.

Florence turned the fish facing Violet, suddenly smiling.

“We’d be just like Amadeus here. ‘I’m such a miserable fish’”.

Florence tried to twist her voice into one of a depressed fish. She succeeded fairly well, considering she was coincidently trying to suppress a laughing fit.

“’All I’m ever going to experience is this contemptible pond’,” she continued. “’I won’t ever get to explore the great oceans…”

“Um, Florence? I’d suggest you put him back into the water. He… doesn’t look too well.”

Florence gave her sister an amused look and with a nod she let the fish back into the pond water.

“We’ll get our chance to see things,” Violet added with an assuring expression in her eyes.

“Of course we are,” Florence said. “We’ll make sure of it. And we’re taking Amadeus with us.”

Violet snickered, and picked up her book again.

Thatcher stood by his bedroom window and observed as his daughters talked and laughed outside. He walked towards the kitchen with a sigh; he could just imagine what they would talk about when their butler had just left to acquire supplies for the next few years on the island. He knew the day would come when the girls would want to leave it. Of course, the rest of the world was a rather miserable place now, he felt, and he had told them so. Still, he always knew they would be wondering.

He still remembered that afternoon when the four of them first arrived at the island. It was quite a positive memory; he could still recall the feeling of liberation as he stepped onto the shore. It was almost 12 years ago now. Harrison had thrown his shoes off, and run across the sand with his arms stretched out, shouting in joy. Just for the sake of it, Thatcher took off his shoes as well. He remembered the feeling of the sand between his toes… or rather, the finest particles of the sand making their way into his socks. It was invigorating.

And there it was – his grandfather’s house. It was just as in the old picture he had found together with all the fascinating notes his grandfather had left behind. Especially interesting were some research papers about a certain plant he was apparently going to find on the island. He smiled at the memory.

The two girls – they were so small then – were lying in a small carrier that he held tightly as he walked up the stairs for the first time.

He did not want to think about the months that had just passed. Not even after all these years did he want to think about it. No, this was where he had come to make things easier. To no longer have to be disturbed.

*

The kitchen in the Thatcher residence was quite large, with spacious surfaces in dark wood. There was a certain tension and anxiety in the air. The girls were chopping vegetables and Thatcher was marinating pieces of chicken filet to use in a pie.

“I suppose you’re getting quite tired of my cooking,” he said, trying to keep up a conversation while he salted and peppered the chicken lightly.

“Nonsense, father,” Florence said in a low voice. “You are just as good a cook as… Harrison.”

“In fact, it was his cooking we were getting tired of,” continued Violet, trying to laugh a little.

Thatcher smiled a little, but it felt strained.

“Are you done with the salad, Florence?” he then asked.

Florence handed him the big blue-coloured glass bowl. He swallowed and walked slowly towards the table, putting the bowl down with a bang. There was a moment of silence.

“I’m sure he’s fine, father…” Violet mumbled. “He probably just… accidentally dropped the phone in the sea or something.”

“Then why…” Thatcher began, but stopped abruptly. “Did you hear that?”

The three of them looked intensely at each other, and in the next moment, they were all running towards the entrance. The three of them stood behind the front door, trying to look out from the little glass window.

They saw nothing.

“I’m sure I heard something…” Thatcher said in a frustrated mumble.

Violet said nothing, but opened the door and stepped out. Thatcher and Florence stumbled forward as well.

“Hello? Harrison!” Violet shouted, starting to walk around the house. It would be very much like Harrison to play hide-and-seek this way. So typically. “Come on, Harry! Harrison! It’s not funny!”

Violet and her father continued behind Florence, but suddenly realized she had stopped. They stopped as well, when they saw what she was so taken aback by.

In front of them was some sort of big vehicle. It was quite remarkable, it looked almost unearthly.

“It seems Harrison has made quite an upgrade,” said Florence in a staggered voice.

Thatcher stood stunned.

“Wh –,“ he started, but then stopped, at hearing voices speaking a foreign tongue.

It sounded like a man and a woman discussing something worriedly. Thatcher took a few steps forward and cleared his throat loudly, and the voices behind the big craft immediately stopped.

The voices whispered back and forth for a few moments, seeming to sound even more anxious. Thatcher looked timidly at his daughters, swallowed, and shifted his weight to his right leg. Florence and Violet stood a few feet behind him, looking uncertainly at each other.

“Excuse me, but… could you please show yourselves?” Thatcher said, trying to speak loudly and clearly. “Do you speak English? Can you hear me? Hello?”

A second of silence followed, and then two strangely dressed characters appeared from behind the big vehicle. It appeared to be a man and a woman. The man was tall and quite broad. He had his hair standing up in an odd shape; it was a strong royal blue colour. The woman was a bit more than a head shorter than the man. She had big brown eyes, freckles, and dark brown hair with pink highlights that was held up in a similar fashion to the man’s hair.

She took a step forward.

“Good morning, earthlings!” she said with a steady voice.

The three Thatchers stood shocked.

“You – you are… not from earth?” stuttered Violet.

“You mean, as in… aliens?” Florence continued.

The woman smiled at their words and said something inaudible to the blue-haired man. They both laughed softly, and then the woman looked back at the others with a curious expression on her face.

“Yes. It is… yes,” she said. “I am glad to hear that you speak the English language.”

There was an uncertainty in her words, as if it was difficult for her to choose them. Still, she looked very triumphant when she had spoken, as if she had just accomplished something amazing by uttering a few words. Thatcher and the girls stood at their spots, still looking at the strange pair.

The woman suddenly seemed to remember something, pulled her glove off, and reached out to shake Thatcher’s hand.

“My name is Tibsen Akinad,” she said and smiled a wide warm smile.

Thatcher was quite befuddled at this, but he shook her hand as well.

“Aaron Thatcher,” he said with a confused Am-I-really-awake?-expression on his face.

The blue-haired man suddenly stepped forward as well, and took Thatcher’s hand right out of Tibsen’s. He shook it enthusiastically with tears filling up in his eyes.

“My name is Quadenhaden,” he said happily while wildly shaking the hand. “It is a great honour, Mr. Aaron Thatcher!”

“It is a pleasure to meet you…” mumbled Thatcher, squeezing his hands after Quadenhaden’s hard grip. “Good grief…”

Tibsen saw the unease in his face, and immediately looked worried as well.

“Sorry, Mr Aaron, did we do anything wrong?” she asked anxiously. “We’ve read in so many books and encyclopaedias that this is how humans greet each other. Perhaps there’s been some sort of misunderstanding?”

“No, no,” Florence suddenly said, sounding reassuring. “You are quite right.”

“Good!” Tibsen said after a few seconds. “Then I shall shake yours too!”

Tibsen shook both Florence’s and Violet’s hands, and so did Quadenhaden, tremendously enthused.

The girls smiled widely at the visitors’ excitement.

“Father, shouldn’t we invite our guests over for tea?” Violet said eagerly, and both she and her sister gave their father a pleading look.

Thatcher thought about it, looking at Tibsen and Quadenhaden. This was all very unexpected.

“Well… yes, I suppose we should,” he said, scratching his head. “You are both very welcome.”

“Splendid!” the girls burst out and grabbed their guests’ hands and pulled them towards the house rapidly.

Thatcher walked after them, trying to keep up with the girls’ quick pace.

They were all in the sitting room, holding their teacups and taking a few sips now and then.

“This tastes very strangely,” said Tibsen, frowning lightly as she drank her tea.

“Well, our tea consists of something more than tea generally does…” started Thatcher.

“We would not aware of some difference,” Quadenhaden interrupted with a hearty laugh.

“So, exactly where are you from?” asked Violet, trying to keep a light conversation going. Both she and her sister were very excited about the visitors.

“Well, we’re from Nyarl-Nyarl Incy-fustular, a planet quite close to Oharg,” said Quadenhaden.

A few moments of silence followed. Tibsen and Quadenhaden started to exchange a few puzzled looks.

“So, what brings you here?” said Thatcher.

“It is… very strange,” Quadenhaden said, ignoring Thatcher’s question.

He had his eyes fixed on Tibsens.

“It is very strange,” Tibsen agreed after a few seconds. “You really don’t seem all that stupid.”

“I beg your pardon?”

“I begin to think there is being a mistake of some kind,” said Quadenhaden.

“No, no; merely some… exceptional exception,” said Tibsen, thinking deeply.

“I really don’t know what you’re talking about,” said Violet, sounding slightly offended. “Did you expect something else? Did you mean we were supposed to be brainless dim-wits?”

A few seconds of silence followed.

“You mean to say that you do not know?” Tibsen said with an astounded and yet somewhat amused voice.

“Do not know what?” demanded Thatcher, trying to hide his irritation.

Tibsen burst out in a laugh.

“They don’t know,” she tittered, and Quadenhaden smiled as well.

“What exactly don’t we know?” Florence asked as well.

Tibsen stopped laughing, and put on a serious face.

“Well. How should I say this…?”

She had everyone’s full attention and so she took a deep breath.

“Well, it seems that your entire planet has been invaded by Fordarvians who attempt to brainwash the human race and use them as soldiers. All humans are currently under Fordarvian manipulation. Except you, it appears. It is still quite likely that the human race won’t survive.”

A smash sounded as Violet dropped her cup of tea on the stone floor.

Written by Director Danny

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