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'As I see it；' John continued； 'you have two big problems here。 Five； if you wish to number your wounded parts。 Firstly； we have the problem of the rapidly approaching darts tournament and the Swan's prospect of certain defeat； should Norman fail to captain the team。' Neville nodded gravely。 'Secondly； we have that。' Omally gestured towards the shrouded video machine； which was even now receiving the attention of a green…haired youth with a large nose and a pair of wire…cutters。 Neville bared what was left of his teeth。
'If I was to tell you that I can solve both problems at a single stroke what would you say to me？'
'I would say free beer to you for a year；' said Neville； rising upon his elbows。 'But for now I must say； please get out of my pub and do not return。 I am not able to assault you physically at present； but be assured that when I am fully restored to health I shall seek you out。 You add insult to my injury and I will have no more of it。'
John tapped at his nose。 'We will let the matter drop for now； as I can see that you are feeling a little under the weather。 By the by； might I take the liberty of asking after the postcard。'
'You may；' said Neville； 'and I will give you that small part before you depart。 It is from Archroy； he says that he has now removed the Ark of Noah from the peak of Ararat and is in the process of transporting it through Turkey to Istanbul。 He hopes to have it here within a week or two。'
'Well； well； well；' said Omally； grinning hugely。 'We do live in interesting times； do we not？'
'Get out of my pub now；' growled Neville with restrained vehemence； 'or truly； despite my incapacitation； I shall visit upon you such a pestilence as was never known by any of your bog…trotting ancestors in all the hard times of Holy Ireland。'
'God save all here；' said Omally。
'Get out and stay out；' said Neville the part…time barman。
19
Professor Slobe laid aside a scale model of the Great Pyramid and leant back in his chair。 'No；' he said to himself； 'it couldn't be； no； ludicrous； although。。。' He rose from his desk and took himself over to the whisky decanter。 'No；' he said once more； 'out of the question。'
Partly filling an exquisite crystal tumbler； he pressed the prismed top back into the decanter's neck； and sank into one of the leathern fireside chairs。 Idly he turned the tumbler between thumb and forefinger； watching the reflected firelight as it danced and twinkled in the clear amber liquid。 His eyelids became hooded and heavy； and his old head nodded gently upon his equally aged shoulders。 It was evident to the gaunt…faced figure who lurked in the darkness without the French windows； polluting the perfumed garden air with the acrid stench of creosote； that the old man was well set to take a quick forty。
Needless to say； this was far from being the case； and beneath the snowy lashes two glittering blue eyes watched as a flicker of movement close by the great velvet curtains announced the arrival of a most unwele guest。 It was a flicker of movement and nothing more； for again the room appeared empty； but for an elderly gentleman； now snoring noisily hi a fireside chair。
Professor Slobe watched as the silent figure delved amongst the crowded papers of his desk and ran his hands over the bindings of the precious books。 The Cerean； convinced of his invisibility； went about his evil business with a will； but naught was missed by the Professor； to whom the word 'hologram' meant little more than 'electronic party trick'。
At length； however； he could stand the defilement of his property no longer。 Rising suddenly from his sham repose he addressed his uninvited visitor in no uncertain terms。 'Replace my papers and get out of my study at once；' said he； 'or know the consequences for your boorish behaviour。'
The Cerean stiffened and turned a startled face towards the Professor。 He fingered the dials upon a small black box which hung at his belt。
'You can tinker with that piece of junk until the sun goes dim； but I can assure you that it will not work upon me。'
The Cerean opened his cruel mouth and spoke in an accent which was unlike any other that the Professor had ever heard。 'Who are you？' he asked。
Professor Slobe smiled wanly。 'I am either your saviour or your nemesis。'
'I think not；' said the Cerean。
'If you are inclined to prolong your visit； might I offer you a drink？' the old man asked courteously。
The Cerean laughed loudly。 'Drink？' said he。 'Drink is the ruination of your species。 Who do you think invented it for you hi the first place？'
'Hm。' The old man nodded thoughtfully； it would be better to keep that piece of intelligence from Pooley and Omally。 They might feel inclined to change sides。 'As you will；' he said blandly。 'May I inquire then why you have e here？'
'I have e to kill you；' said the Cerean； in such an offhand manner that it quite unsettled the Professor's nerves。 'You are proving an annoyance； you and the pink…eyed man beneath。 We shall deal with him shortly。'
'That may not be so easy as you might believe。'
The Cerean turned up the palms of his hands。 'You are old and decrepit。 A single blow will cut the frail cord of your existence。'
'Appearances can sometimes be deceptive；' said the Professor。 'I for example happen to be a master of Dimac； the deadliest form of martial art known to mankind。 My hands and feet are registered with the local constabulary as deadly weapons。 They can。。。 '
'Rip； maim； mutilate； disfigure and kill with little more than the application of a fingertip's pressure；' said the Cerean。 'I know。 Who do you think invented Dimac in the first place？'
'I find your conversation tending towards the repetitious。 Kindly take your leave now； I have much to do。'
'Such as plotting the downfall of the Cerean Empire？'
'Amongst other things … I do have more important business。'
The man from Ceres laughed hollowly。 'You have great courage； old man；' said he。 'We of Ceres hold courage and bravery above all other things。'
'I understand that you like a good fight； yes；' said the Professor。 'Although you do not always win。 How's the armpit？'
The Cerean clutched at his tender parts。 'Shortly；' he snarled； 'your race will again know the might of Ceres。 They will feel the jackboot upon their necks。 You； however； will not be here to witness it。'
'I am expecting to enjoy a long and happy retirement；' said Professor Slobe； noting to his satisfaction and relief that Gammon had now entered the French windows； wielding an antique warming…pan。 'I worry for you； though。'
'Do not waste your concern。 When the battle fleet arrives and the true masters of Earth once more set foot upon the planet； they will have none to spare for your puny race。'
'Brave talk。 When might we expect this happy event？'
'Two days from now。 It is a pity you will miss it。'
'Oh； I won't miss it。 I have a table booked at the Swan upon that evening。 It is the darts tournament。 We hold the challenge shield； you know。'
'Of course I know。 Who do you think invented darts？'
'Are all your race such blatant liars？'
'Enough talk！' The Cerean pushed past the Professor's desk and crossed the room； to stand glaring； eye