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relations and uncles and aunts to say 〃Och； they're old so young these days〃 and things like that before I was even born。'
'But he is insane； all the same。'
'That's what they say； but I don't know。'
'What about the dogs？ And the maggots？'
'OK； that looks pretty crazy； I'll admit； but sometimes I think maybe he's up to something； maybe he's not really crazy after all。 Perhaps he just got fed up acting normal and decided to act crazy instead； and they locked him up because he went too far。'
'And he's mad at them；' Jamie grinned； drinking his pint as I annihilated various dodging； multi…coloured spacecraft on the screen。 I laughed。 'Yeah； if you like。 Oh； I don't know。 Maybe he really is crazy。 Maybe I am。 Maybe everybody is。 Or at least all of my family。'
'Now you're talking。'
I looked up at him for a second； then smiled。 'It does occur to me sometimes。 My dad's an eccentric。。。 I suppose I am； too。' I shrugged； concentrated on the space battle again。 'But it doesn't bother me。 There are a lot madder people about the place。'
Jamie sat in silence for a while as I went from screenful to screenful of wheeling； whining craft。 Finally my luck ran out and they caught me。 I took up my pint as Jamie settled in to blast a few of the gaudy formations。 I looked at the top of his head as he bent to the task。 He was starting to go bald； though I knew he was only twenty…three。 He reminded me again of a puppet； with his out…of…proportion head and stubby little arms and legs waggling with the exertion of punching the 'fire' button and jiggling the positioning joystick。
'Yeah；' he said after a while； still attacking the oning craft； 'and a lot of them seem to be politicians and presidents and things。'
'What？' I said； wondering what he was talking about。
'The madder people。 A lot of them seem to be leaders of countries or religions or armies。 The real loonies。'
'Aye； I suppose。' I said thoughtfully； watching the battle on the screen upside down。 'Or maybe they're the only sane ones。 After all； they're the ones with all the power and riches。 They're the ones who get everybody else to do what they want them to do； like die for them and work for them and get them into power and protect them and pay taxes and buy them toys； and they're the ones who'll survive another big war； in their bunkers and tunnels。 So； given things being the way they are； who's to say they're the loonies because they don't do things the way Joe Punter thinks they ought to be done？ If they thought the same way as Joe Punter； they'd be Joe Punter； and somebody else would be having all the fun。'
'Survival of the fittest。'
'Yeah。'
'Survival of the…' Jamie drew his breath in sharply and pulled the stick so hard he almost fell off his stool； but he managed to dodge the darting yellow bolts that had driven him into the corner of the screen '…nastiest。' He looked up at me and grinned quickly before hunching over the controls again。 I drank； nodded。
'If you like。 If the nastiest survive； then that's our tough shit。'
'〃Us〃 being all us Joe Punters；' Jamie said。
'Aye； or everybody。 The whole species。 If we're really so bad and so thick that we'd actually use all those wonderful H…bombs and Neutron bombs on each other； then maybe it's just as well we do wipe ourselves out before we can get into space and start doing horrible things to other races。'
'You mean we'll be the Space Invaders？'
'Yeah！' I laughed； and rocked back on my stool。 'That's it！ That's really us！' I laughed again and tapped the screen above a formation of red and green flapping things； just as one of them； peeling off to the side of the main pack； dived down firing at Jamie's craft； missing it with its shots but clipping him with one green wing as it disappeared off the bottom of the screen； so that Jamie's craft detonated in a blaze of flashing red and yellow。
'Shit；' he said； sitting back。 He shook his head。
I sat forward and waited for my craft to appear。
Just a little drunk on my three pints； I cycled back to the island whistling。 I always enjoyed my lunch…time chats with Jamie。 We sometimes talk when we meet on Saturday nights； but we can't hear when the bands are on； and afterwards I'm either too drunk to talk or； if I can speak； I'm too drunk to recall much of what I've said。 Which； e to think of it； is probably just as well； judging by the way people who are normally quite sensible dissolve into gibbering； rude； opinionated and bombastic idiots once the alcohol molecules in their bloodstream outnumber their neurons； or whatever。 Luckily； one only notices this if one stays sober oneself； so the solution is as pleasant （at the time； at least） as it is obvious。
My father was asleep in a deckchair in the front garden when I got back。 I left the bike in the shed and watched him from the shed door for a while； poised so that if he happened to wake up it would look as though I was just in the act of shutting the door。 His head was tilted a little to me and his mouth was slightly open。 He had dark glasses on； but I could just see through them to his closed eyes。
I had to go for a piss； so I didn't watch him for very long。 Not that I had any particular reason for watching him； I just liked doing it。 It made me feel good to know that I could see him and he couldn't see me； and that I was aware and fully conscious and he wasn't。
I went into the house。
I had spent Monday； after a cursory check of the Poles； making one or two repairs and improvements to the Factory； working through the afternoon until my eyes got sore and my father had to call up to me to e down for my dinner。
In the evening it rained； so I had stayed in and watched television。 I went to bed early。 Eric didn't call。
After I'd got rid of about half the beer I'd drunk in the Arms； I went to have another look at the Factory。 I clambered up into the loft； all sunlight and warmth and smelling of old and interesting books； and I decided to clear the place up a bit。
I sorted out old toys into boxes； got a few rolls of carpet and wallpaper back into their places from where they'd fallen； pinned a couple of maps back on to the sloping wooden under…roof； cleared away some of the tools and bits and pieces that I'd used to repair the Factory； and loaded the various sections of the Factory that needed to be loaded。
I found some interesting things while I was doing all this： a home…made astrolabe I'd carved； a box containing the folded…flat parts for a scale model of the defences around Byzantium； the remains of my collection of telegraph…pole insulators； and some old jotters from when my father was teaching me French。 Leafing through them； I couldn't see any obvious lies； he hadn't taught me to say anything obscene instead of 'Excuse me' or 'Can you direct me to the railway station； please？'； though I'd have thought the temptation would have been all but irresistible。
I pleted tidying the loft； sneezing a