'Still found no aliens?' said Yo-less.

'Um. Not in the game.'

'Still dreaming about them?' said Wobbler.

'Sort of.'

Someone handing out leaflets about Big Savings onDouble Glazing gave one, in desperation, to Yo-less.He took it gravely, thanked them, folded it in two andput it in his pocket. Yo-less always filed this sort ofthing. You never knew when it might come in handy,he said. One day he might want to doubleglaze his sur-gery, and he'd be in a good position to compare offers.

'Anyone see the war on the box last night?' saidBigmac. 'Way to go, eh?'

'Way to go where?' said Yo-less.

'We're really kicking some butt!'

'Some but what?' said Wobbler.

'We'll give them the "Mother-in-law of All Battles",eh?' said Bigmac, still trying to stir some patriotism.

'Nah. It's not like real fighting,' said Wobbler. 'It'sjust TV fighting.'

'Wish I was in the army,' said Bigmac, wistfully.'Blam!' He shot the double-glazing lady, who didn'tnotice. Bigmac had a habit of firing imaginary guns.Other people played air guitar, he shot air rifles.

'Couple more years,' he said. 'That's all.'

'You ought to write to Stormin' Norman,' saidWobbler. 'Ask him to keep the war going until you getthere.'

'He's done pretty well for someone called Norman,'said Yo-less. 'I mean ... Norman? Not very macho,is it? It's like Bruce, or Rodney.'

'He had to be Norman,' said Wobbler, 'otherwise hecouldn't be Stormin'. You couldn't have Stormin'Bruce. Come on.'

J&J Software was always packed on a Saturday morn-ing. There were always a couple of computers runninggames, and always a cluster of people gathered roundthem. No-one knew who J&J were, since the shop wasrun by Mr Patel, who had eyes like a hawk. He alwayswatched Wobbler very carefully, on the fairly accuratebasis that Wobbler distributed more games than he didand didn't even charge anyone for them.

The four of them split up. Bigmac wasn't muchinterested in games, and Yo-less went down to look atthe videos. Wobbler had found someone who kneweven more complicated stuff about computers than hedid himself.

Johnny mooched along the racks of games.I wonder if the ScreeWee do this, he thought. Orpeople on Jupiter or somewhere. Go down to a shopand buy 'Shoot the Human' games. And have filmswhere there's a human running around the place ter-rorizing a spaceship-He became aware of a raised voice at the counter.

You didn't often get girls in J&J Software. Once,quite a long time ago, during a bit of time she'd set asidefor parenting, Johnny's mother had tried playing agame. It had been quite a simple one - you had to shootasteroids and flying saucers and things. It had beenembarrassing. It had been amazing that the flyingsaucers had even bothered to shoot back. More likelythey should have parked and all the aliens could havelooked out of the windows and made rude noises.Women didn't have a clue.

A girl was complaining to Mr Patel about a gameshe'd bought. Everyone knew you couldn't do that,even if you'd opened the box and it was full of nothingbut mouse droppings. Mr Patel took the view that oncethe transparent wrapper had come off, even the Popewouldn't be allowed to return a game, not even if hegot God to come in as well. This was because he'd metpeople like Wobbler before.

The boys watched in fascinated horror.

She kept tapping the offending box with a finger.

'And who wants to see nothing but stars?' she said.'I've seen stars before, actually. It says on the box thatyou fight dozens of different kinds of alien ships. Thereisn't even one.

Mr Patel muttered something. Johnny wasn't closeenough to hear. But the girl's voice had a kind of pene-trating quality, like a corkscrew. When she spoke initalics, you could hear them.

'Oh, no. You can't say that. Because how can I tellif it works without trying it? That comes under the Saleof Goods Act (1983).'

The awed watchers were astonished to see a slightlyhunted look in Mr Patel's eyes. Up until now he'd nevermet anyone who could pronounce brackets.

He muttered something else.

'Copy it? Why should I copy it? I've bought it. It sayson the box you meet fascinating alien races. Well, allI got was one ship and some stupid message on thescreen and then it ran away. I don't call that fascinatingalien races.'

Message

Ran away

Johnny sidled closer.

Mr Patel muttered something else, and then turnedto one of the shelves. The shop watched in amazement.There was a new game in his hand. He was actuallygoing to make an exchange. This was like GenghisKhan deciding not to attack a city but stay at home andwatch the football instead.

Then he held up his hand, nodded at the girl, andstalked over to one of the shop's own computers, theones with so many fingermarks on the keys that youcouldn't read them any more.

Everyone watched in silence as he loaded up the copyof the game that the girl had brought back. The musiccame on. The title scrolled up the screen, like the onein Star Wars. It was the usual stuff: 'The mightyScreeWee fleet have attacked the Federation,' whateverthat was, 'and only you...

And then there was space. It was computer space -a sort of black, with the occasional star rolling past.

'There ought to be six ships on the first mission,' saidsomeone behind Johnny.

Mr Patel scowled at him. He pressed a key cautiously.

'You've just fired a torpedo at nothing, Mr Patel,'said Wobbler.

Finally Mr Patel gave up. He waved his hands in theair.

'How d'you find the things to shoot?' he said.

'They find you,' said someone. 'You should be deadby now.'

'See?' said the girl. 'You get nothing but space. I leftit on for hours, and there was just space.'

'Maybe you're not persevering. You kids don't knowthe meaning of the word persevere,' said Mr Patel.

Wobbler looked over the shopkeeper's head toJohnny and raised his eyebrows.

'It's like persistently trying,' said Johnny helpfully.'Oh. Right. Well, I persistently tried the other nightand I didn't find any, either.'

Mr Patel carefully unwrapped the new copy of thegame. The shop watched as he slotted the disc into thecomputer.

'Then let us see what the game looks like beforeMr Wobbler plays his little tricks,' he said.

There was the title screen. There was the story, suchas it was. And the instructions.

And space.

'Soon we shall see,' said Mr Patel.

And then more space.

'This one was only delivered yesterday.'Lots more space. That was the thing about space.Mr Patel picked up the box and looked at it carefully,But they'd all seen him take off the polythene.

They've gone, thought Johnny.

Even on the new games.

They've all gone.

People were laughing. But Wobbler and Yo-lesswere staring at him.