Dr Mary Malone enjoyed peace and quiet. She'd never settled into a relationship over the years, and so had avoided children with minimal effort. She felt herself fortunate in this regard. She had a reasonable social life, the odd casual suitor, two godchildren to spoil rotten every so often and a very well-paid job with MoD.
As a result, she was slightly annoyed when Xanthania turned up in her living room in a blaze of pointless flashy effects that utterly failed to impress her. "Great. Who's trying to take over the world this time?"
"Metatron," the angel replied urgently.
"What? You guys got rid of him at the same time as... Oh, shit. So that's how they got loose." Mary sighed. "Here we go again. Can't somebody else save the world this time?"
"Who is better qualified than the people who saved it last time?" Xanthania asked reasonably.
"True. Part of me wishes I could just say it was somebody else's problem, though. So, who are we working with?"
"We are gathering every ally we can in the Fens. Come, take my hand." They vanished in a blaze of light.
"Look, I have a whole bunch of other commitments right now," John pointed out. "I'm really not sure I can just drop everything."
"We're talking about the conquest of the whole universe by God's spin doctor," Will replied.
"After all the years we've known each other I'm supposed to be impressed?" he smiled bitterly. Will groaned. Part of the problem, he suspected, was that John was a complete atheist. Will wasn't, on account of having run into all manner of divine creatures over the years. He'd even run into God briefly, not to mention Metatron.
"Look, at least come as far as our new HQ. For old times sake?"
"Okay, okay. I'll put it to the others, at least."
"I will pledge my fighting men," Petrovic offered; he was a devout Catholic, and found the whole thing much easer to grasp. "If you will provide sanctuary for the civilians then Mr West will be released to give you assistance."
"Okay, okay!" John gave in. "You win!"
"Not yet we haven't..."
"Sir, I think they will be a valuable assest," Xanthania told her boss. The Authority looked somewhat reluctant.
"You KNOW I don't do reincarnations. Not after last time. Everybody kept expecting me to do it again!"
His personal troubleshooter and righthand angel nodded sympathetically; she had vivid recollections of the whole thing. Well, at least this one wasn't likely to demand full editorial rights over the Holy Scriptures.
"We need all the help we can get, and the propaganda opportunities would be enormous." Her boss gave Xanthania a sharp look.
"You're starting to sound like Metatron," he admonished. The ex-Voice of God hadn't been content with being 'sort of like a divine equivalent of the Presidential spokesman' as Terry Pratchett and Neil Gaiman put it in Good Omens, but had tried to turn himself into Alistair Campbell with a halo. "Very well," the Authority said wearily, "have him brought up here, and I'll see if he's amenable. And I suppose he'll be wanting that blasted aeroplane as well..."
"You want me to WHAT?" I nearly exploded. "Oh, come ON. I was really rather enjoying a nice quiet retirement. Being dead barely spoiled it at all." I paused. "Elaine going back to John did, though." I hadn't argued, of course; perhaps it's a little vulgar to say that he was there first, but that was pretty much the general thrust of the case for him having precedence. It's taken me many years to admit it, but I was secretly glad to be free of Elaine's constant nagging about just about everything I did. Or didn't do, or did wrong, or- well, you get the picture.
"Well, there isn't a huge amount I can do about that," the Authority replied. "However, I might have an alternative." He opened the window of the small, well-appointed office we were occupying, probably only in a metaphysical sense. To my mild surprise, a small silver bird flew in. It looked like a cross between a seagull and a hawk, but with a strange iridescent plumage that reflected the light in an odd way. Comprehension slowly dawned.
I reached out, and she settled on my shoulder. "Hello again, girl," I said quietly, tears in my eyes. "I always knew there was more to you than metal and wiring." I straightened. "Alright, count me in."
"Thought you'd come round to the idea," the Authority said with a cheerful smile. He showed me to the door, and we emerged in the Fens. The bird took off from my shoulder, and landed in the water. The Authority snapped his fingers, there was a blinding flash, and...
The Aurora Borealis was gently riding the slight swell. I broke down and wept at the sight of her. "I'm sorry," I said after a few moments. "but the two of us went through so much together, we- we're old friends. My deamon's an aeroplane, I guess."
"She feels the same; that's why she volunteered," the Authority replied softly. "Alright, she's fully fuelled and ammunitioned. Four Sidewinders and two Mavericks, as per usual. The interior should be just as you remember, only tidier; we've even filled the fridge. The forces of good are massing for the biggest Roping this century, and all the usual suspects are present and correct. Their reaction ought to be quite interesting!"
"I'll say," I replied. "Right, I'll see you around, then." I boarded Aurora, and gave her a quick once-over. Everything was how I remembered it, right down to the DVD Elaine had left in the player. I winced slightly, but took hold of myself and made my way to the cockpit.
"Shall we?" I said to the bulkhead, beginning the prestart checklist. Naturally, everything was perfect. "Okay then, let's go meet up with some old friends." I activated the iPod that Lyra and I had integrated with the helmet communication earphones, and dialled up 'The Boys Are Back In Town' by Thin Lizzy. I opened the throttles to full military power and pulled back on the stick, launching Aurora skyward.
Will heaved another crate of AK105 assault rifles out of the Huey, which was doing ferry duty through the hastily opened fixed portal created by the captured projector left over from the fight with the Nazis. "We REALLY need some proper heavy-lift aircraft. With the amount of kit we're having to ship in it'll be days before everybody's even got a rifle."
"Make the portal big enough to take even the Ilyshins and we'll be noticed," John replied. "It was bad enough pallet dropping everything out the Ruslan; we were lucky the pilot of that interceptor remembered us from five years ago."
"The Raff aren't all bad then!" Will laughed; inter-service rivalry was largely forgotten these days as everybody ganged up on the Yanks, but naval aviators think of themselves as a breed apart. "It wouldn't have to be a big military job; we haven't got space to land it around here anyway. Something like a big Westland cargo helicopter, or even little freight job like a Skyvan..." he tailed off, his jaw hanging open, and pointed.
Aurora made a low flypast, rattling windows and causing a few slight panic attacks. "What-? How-? Who-?" Will stuttered in uncomprehending astonishment.
"I'll bet my DFC Xanthania had a hand in this," Lyra replied. "I wonder if your dad's there as well?"
"Well, there's no way Mum's flying like that," Will said, regaining some of his composure. Lyra made no reply to this.
Aurora glided in and made a neat landing amid the profusion of boats. She taxied gently to the jetty they'd used so many times before, and shortly afterwards a familiar figure came out of the side door.
I'd taken the time to outfit myself in a new flight suit, and dug out my old helmet. My Beretta was in its usual place beneath my left arm, and I had one of Aurora's H&K G36 assault rifles slung across my back, with a couple of spare clips taped to the stock. Theatrical, I admit, but I felt like making an impression. Hence the cigarette dangling from my upper lip, Dirty Harry style. I probably looked like a complete tit, of course.
"Hi," I said conversationally.
Will and I embraced as father and son, which to all intents and purposes we are. "Where's Mum? And John?" he asked.
"Still dead. She, er, sort of picked John over me." I tried to shrug manfully and failed. "Well, he was better looking than me anyhow. Anyway, we've got other things to worry about. What's the state of play logistics-wise?"
"Better than you'd expect; John finally found himself a decent manager. And an Mi-28 attack helicopter." I blinked a couple of times at this last bit.
"The mind boggles. So, what have I missed?"
Will filled me in briefly as we headed to what was laughingly referred to as the briefing room. It was the bar. "Oh, GOD, not this place! I have some bad memories involving your Rick Astley impression," I told him. Lyra might have been quite taken with it, but as for me...
"At least I didn't end up sleeping in a rowing boat," he replied smoothly. I took an affectionate swipe at him.
The usual suspects were indeed present and correct. Everybody looked exactly as I remembered, near as damn it.
"Hi, guys," I said in as normal a fashion as I could manage. "Nice to be back." There was an almighty amount of back-slapping and hugging, and a load of questions about why I wasn't dead. I fielded them as best as I could, not really feeling up to dealing with it all.
"So, what have you guys been up to while I've been out of it?" This took a while to answer.
"Then it was YOU who convinced Putin to resign. I thought I recognised your style!" John grinned.
"It wasn't me pointing the gun at him, actually; that was Eddie." Meacom, who looked as if he felt so out of his depth he'd need a week in a decompression chamber once this was all over, nodded vaguely in acknowlegement. "Business has been good recently. We've been making money hand over fist, and we've made enough friends in high places to operate without much interference," he added. "We're national heroes in Russia."
"I'll bet," I replied. "I suppose that's how you got hold of that Havoc and the Fulcrums." John didn't reply. "Do we know exactly what we're up against? Besides God's disgraced former spin doctor, of course."
"A few angels have gone over to Metatron. Possibly some of the witch clans and the remnants of the Nazis, as well. Right now, though, we know effectively nothing. We don't even know which world," John Faa replied. "I've heard a thousand rumours, most of which flatly contradict each other. We're hoping that Xanthania can come up with something solid for us."
I nodded without enthusiasm, lighting a cigarette. This was getting less and less promising by the minute.
"These... fallen angels," I said thoughtfully. "Do they wear black robes?"
"Yes. Why?"
"Because I saw a couple of mutual acquaintances of ours get snatched a couple of days ago. Seeing as there's no way in hell they should have been in a position to even make it as far as the afterlife without some help from Metatron, it seems like a safe bet that he had a hand in breaking them out."
"Good. We get to kill them again," Lyra replied. "Slowly, this time." I shared a somewhat alarmed glance with Will.
John smiled faintly. "Hey, you didn't meet my dad while you were there, did you?"
"The opinionated Liverpudlian who looks like David Brent? Yeah, I think I might have. Got right on my tits, he did." We laughed. "Your mum says hi as well. I told her you're a teacher."
"You think she might disapprove of his choice of career?" Trish enquired.
"She found out off Elaine and had apoplexy," I replied, wincing. "She calmed down when I explained about the Death Row in Louisiana, and breaking up that kiddy-porn ring in Moscow."
We were interrupted by the sudden arrival of a faintly dishevelled and breathless Xanthania.
"We may have a slight problem," she said shortly. There was a tremendous explosion and a rattle of gunfire.
"Jesus Christ, we're under attack!" There was a general stampede for the door. I grabbed Trish, Mick and Charlie and yelled at them to take over Aurora's gun turrets, then leapt into the cockpit and started the engines.
A dozen of the odd Nazi planes that were capable of dimensional jumps, Junkers-578s or some such, were coming in to attack. I could see several armoured vehicles heading towards town as well.
"Right. Showtime!" I deployed gun turrets, missile pylons and the rocket pod, and immediately warmed up my Sidewinders.
"Attention," a chillingly recognisable voice called over the distress frequency. "I am looking to recruit personnel to my military forces. The rates of pay and fringe benefits are quite good."
"Oh, sod off!" I replied. Mary's observation was unprintable.
"You!" Asriel hissed.
I grinned, and launched missiles. "Shove THIS down the front of yer trousers!" Lyra yelled, letting off a volley of cannon fire at a Ju-578 with a red tail stripe. I was vaguely interested to note that the 9-18 series Fulcrum, the last variant off the line, had two cannons instead of one. The fighter which Asriel was presumably flying heeled over and came down firing. Will launched an AA-11 at him.
I was tied up with the bandits that hadn't fallen to my Sidewinders. Jack and Yuri were busy strafing the ground vehicles. I wasn't sure where the helicopters were at this point. It was a frenetic dogfight, at point blank range, and I was loving every minute. I was back in my element. Aurora felt like an extension of my body, and every sense and reflex was magnified a thousandfold. I yanked back the stick and flipped Aurora right over in a hammerstall. "Look out below!" I dived at the first fighter I saw, and blasted it with my miniguns. It exploded spectacularly.
"To hell with this! All units fall back!" Asriel turned his fighter around and jammed the burners up to full. His fighter vanished in a flash moments later as the jump drive kicked in. His colleagues weren't far behind.
"Round one to us, methinks," I laughed. "Good job, everybody. They won't try that again for a while!" I set down near the jetty, and taxied in.
"Still got the touch then?" Jack remarked. "Not bad for an old guy."
"I'm not forty-five yet, you cheeky bastard!" Well, if you don't count the five years I spent dead, anyway.
"Metatron has established a base of operations in the Alps of the world of the Nazis. It is an old schloss of some kind," Xanthania explained. "A former luxury residence of the old regime, I believe."
"The Wolf's Lair," I agreed. "I've heard of it. I dread to think what the defences will be like."
"What I'm wondering is how we're going to get everybody there," John added. "Our airlifters are gone. With the portal generator left over from the last war we can get as far as the right world, but then there's a journey of several hundred miles."
Jack looked thoughtful for a moment. "John, I think I've got an idea..."
As a result, she was slightly annoyed when Xanthania turned up in her living room in a blaze of pointless flashy effects that utterly failed to impress her. "Great. Who's trying to take over the world this time?"
"Metatron," the angel replied urgently.
"What? You guys got rid of him at the same time as... Oh, shit. So that's how they got loose." Mary sighed. "Here we go again. Can't somebody else save the world this time?"
"Who is better qualified than the people who saved it last time?" Xanthania asked reasonably.
"True. Part of me wishes I could just say it was somebody else's problem, though. So, who are we working with?"
"We are gathering every ally we can in the Fens. Come, take my hand." They vanished in a blaze of light.
"Look, I have a whole bunch of other commitments right now," John pointed out. "I'm really not sure I can just drop everything."
"We're talking about the conquest of the whole universe by God's spin doctor," Will replied.
"After all the years we've known each other I'm supposed to be impressed?" he smiled bitterly. Will groaned. Part of the problem, he suspected, was that John was a complete atheist. Will wasn't, on account of having run into all manner of divine creatures over the years. He'd even run into God briefly, not to mention Metatron.
"Look, at least come as far as our new HQ. For old times sake?"
"Okay, okay. I'll put it to the others, at least."
"I will pledge my fighting men," Petrovic offered; he was a devout Catholic, and found the whole thing much easer to grasp. "If you will provide sanctuary for the civilians then Mr West will be released to give you assistance."
"Okay, okay!" John gave in. "You win!"
"Not yet we haven't..."
"Sir, I think they will be a valuable assest," Xanthania told her boss. The Authority looked somewhat reluctant.
"You KNOW I don't do reincarnations. Not after last time. Everybody kept expecting me to do it again!"
His personal troubleshooter and righthand angel nodded sympathetically; she had vivid recollections of the whole thing. Well, at least this one wasn't likely to demand full editorial rights over the Holy Scriptures.
"We need all the help we can get, and the propaganda opportunities would be enormous." Her boss gave Xanthania a sharp look.
"You're starting to sound like Metatron," he admonished. The ex-Voice of God hadn't been content with being 'sort of like a divine equivalent of the Presidential spokesman' as Terry Pratchett and Neil Gaiman put it in Good Omens, but had tried to turn himself into Alistair Campbell with a halo. "Very well," the Authority said wearily, "have him brought up here, and I'll see if he's amenable. And I suppose he'll be wanting that blasted aeroplane as well..."
"You want me to WHAT?" I nearly exploded. "Oh, come ON. I was really rather enjoying a nice quiet retirement. Being dead barely spoiled it at all." I paused. "Elaine going back to John did, though." I hadn't argued, of course; perhaps it's a little vulgar to say that he was there first, but that was pretty much the general thrust of the case for him having precedence. It's taken me many years to admit it, but I was secretly glad to be free of Elaine's constant nagging about just about everything I did. Or didn't do, or did wrong, or- well, you get the picture.
"Well, there isn't a huge amount I can do about that," the Authority replied. "However, I might have an alternative." He opened the window of the small, well-appointed office we were occupying, probably only in a metaphysical sense. To my mild surprise, a small silver bird flew in. It looked like a cross between a seagull and a hawk, but with a strange iridescent plumage that reflected the light in an odd way. Comprehension slowly dawned.
I reached out, and she settled on my shoulder. "Hello again, girl," I said quietly, tears in my eyes. "I always knew there was more to you than metal and wiring." I straightened. "Alright, count me in."
"Thought you'd come round to the idea," the Authority said with a cheerful smile. He showed me to the door, and we emerged in the Fens. The bird took off from my shoulder, and landed in the water. The Authority snapped his fingers, there was a blinding flash, and...
The Aurora Borealis was gently riding the slight swell. I broke down and wept at the sight of her. "I'm sorry," I said after a few moments. "but the two of us went through so much together, we- we're old friends. My deamon's an aeroplane, I guess."
"She feels the same; that's why she volunteered," the Authority replied softly. "Alright, she's fully fuelled and ammunitioned. Four Sidewinders and two Mavericks, as per usual. The interior should be just as you remember, only tidier; we've even filled the fridge. The forces of good are massing for the biggest Roping this century, and all the usual suspects are present and correct. Their reaction ought to be quite interesting!"
"I'll say," I replied. "Right, I'll see you around, then." I boarded Aurora, and gave her a quick once-over. Everything was how I remembered it, right down to the DVD Elaine had left in the player. I winced slightly, but took hold of myself and made my way to the cockpit.
"Shall we?" I said to the bulkhead, beginning the prestart checklist. Naturally, everything was perfect. "Okay then, let's go meet up with some old friends." I activated the iPod that Lyra and I had integrated with the helmet communication earphones, and dialled up 'The Boys Are Back In Town' by Thin Lizzy. I opened the throttles to full military power and pulled back on the stick, launching Aurora skyward.
Will heaved another crate of AK105 assault rifles out of the Huey, which was doing ferry duty through the hastily opened fixed portal created by the captured projector left over from the fight with the Nazis. "We REALLY need some proper heavy-lift aircraft. With the amount of kit we're having to ship in it'll be days before everybody's even got a rifle."
"Make the portal big enough to take even the Ilyshins and we'll be noticed," John replied. "It was bad enough pallet dropping everything out the Ruslan; we were lucky the pilot of that interceptor remembered us from five years ago."
"The Raff aren't all bad then!" Will laughed; inter-service rivalry was largely forgotten these days as everybody ganged up on the Yanks, but naval aviators think of themselves as a breed apart. "It wouldn't have to be a big military job; we haven't got space to land it around here anyway. Something like a big Westland cargo helicopter, or even little freight job like a Skyvan..." he tailed off, his jaw hanging open, and pointed.
Aurora made a low flypast, rattling windows and causing a few slight panic attacks. "What-? How-? Who-?" Will stuttered in uncomprehending astonishment.
"I'll bet my DFC Xanthania had a hand in this," Lyra replied. "I wonder if your dad's there as well?"
"Well, there's no way Mum's flying like that," Will said, regaining some of his composure. Lyra made no reply to this.
Aurora glided in and made a neat landing amid the profusion of boats. She taxied gently to the jetty they'd used so many times before, and shortly afterwards a familiar figure came out of the side door.
I'd taken the time to outfit myself in a new flight suit, and dug out my old helmet. My Beretta was in its usual place beneath my left arm, and I had one of Aurora's H&K G36 assault rifles slung across my back, with a couple of spare clips taped to the stock. Theatrical, I admit, but I felt like making an impression. Hence the cigarette dangling from my upper lip, Dirty Harry style. I probably looked like a complete tit, of course.
"Hi," I said conversationally.
Will and I embraced as father and son, which to all intents and purposes we are. "Where's Mum? And John?" he asked.
"Still dead. She, er, sort of picked John over me." I tried to shrug manfully and failed. "Well, he was better looking than me anyhow. Anyway, we've got other things to worry about. What's the state of play logistics-wise?"
"Better than you'd expect; John finally found himself a decent manager. And an Mi-28 attack helicopter." I blinked a couple of times at this last bit.
"The mind boggles. So, what have I missed?"
Will filled me in briefly as we headed to what was laughingly referred to as the briefing room. It was the bar. "Oh, GOD, not this place! I have some bad memories involving your Rick Astley impression," I told him. Lyra might have been quite taken with it, but as for me...
"At least I didn't end up sleeping in a rowing boat," he replied smoothly. I took an affectionate swipe at him.
The usual suspects were indeed present and correct. Everybody looked exactly as I remembered, near as damn it.
"Hi, guys," I said in as normal a fashion as I could manage. "Nice to be back." There was an almighty amount of back-slapping and hugging, and a load of questions about why I wasn't dead. I fielded them as best as I could, not really feeling up to dealing with it all.
"So, what have you guys been up to while I've been out of it?" This took a while to answer.
"Then it was YOU who convinced Putin to resign. I thought I recognised your style!" John grinned.
"It wasn't me pointing the gun at him, actually; that was Eddie." Meacom, who looked as if he felt so out of his depth he'd need a week in a decompression chamber once this was all over, nodded vaguely in acknowlegement. "Business has been good recently. We've been making money hand over fist, and we've made enough friends in high places to operate without much interference," he added. "We're national heroes in Russia."
"I'll bet," I replied. "I suppose that's how you got hold of that Havoc and the Fulcrums." John didn't reply. "Do we know exactly what we're up against? Besides God's disgraced former spin doctor, of course."
"A few angels have gone over to Metatron. Possibly some of the witch clans and the remnants of the Nazis, as well. Right now, though, we know effectively nothing. We don't even know which world," John Faa replied. "I've heard a thousand rumours, most of which flatly contradict each other. We're hoping that Xanthania can come up with something solid for us."
I nodded without enthusiasm, lighting a cigarette. This was getting less and less promising by the minute.
"These... fallen angels," I said thoughtfully. "Do they wear black robes?"
"Yes. Why?"
"Because I saw a couple of mutual acquaintances of ours get snatched a couple of days ago. Seeing as there's no way in hell they should have been in a position to even make it as far as the afterlife without some help from Metatron, it seems like a safe bet that he had a hand in breaking them out."
"Good. We get to kill them again," Lyra replied. "Slowly, this time." I shared a somewhat alarmed glance with Will.
John smiled faintly. "Hey, you didn't meet my dad while you were there, did you?"
"The opinionated Liverpudlian who looks like David Brent? Yeah, I think I might have. Got right on my tits, he did." We laughed. "Your mum says hi as well. I told her you're a teacher."
"You think she might disapprove of his choice of career?" Trish enquired.
"She found out off Elaine and had apoplexy," I replied, wincing. "She calmed down when I explained about the Death Row in Louisiana, and breaking up that kiddy-porn ring in Moscow."
We were interrupted by the sudden arrival of a faintly dishevelled and breathless Xanthania.
"We may have a slight problem," she said shortly. There was a tremendous explosion and a rattle of gunfire.
"Jesus Christ, we're under attack!" There was a general stampede for the door. I grabbed Trish, Mick and Charlie and yelled at them to take over Aurora's gun turrets, then leapt into the cockpit and started the engines.
A dozen of the odd Nazi planes that were capable of dimensional jumps, Junkers-578s or some such, were coming in to attack. I could see several armoured vehicles heading towards town as well.
"Right. Showtime!" I deployed gun turrets, missile pylons and the rocket pod, and immediately warmed up my Sidewinders.
"Attention," a chillingly recognisable voice called over the distress frequency. "I am looking to recruit personnel to my military forces. The rates of pay and fringe benefits are quite good."
"Oh, sod off!" I replied. Mary's observation was unprintable.
"You!" Asriel hissed.
I grinned, and launched missiles. "Shove THIS down the front of yer trousers!" Lyra yelled, letting off a volley of cannon fire at a Ju-578 with a red tail stripe. I was vaguely interested to note that the 9-18 series Fulcrum, the last variant off the line, had two cannons instead of one. The fighter which Asriel was presumably flying heeled over and came down firing. Will launched an AA-11 at him.
I was tied up with the bandits that hadn't fallen to my Sidewinders. Jack and Yuri were busy strafing the ground vehicles. I wasn't sure where the helicopters were at this point. It was a frenetic dogfight, at point blank range, and I was loving every minute. I was back in my element. Aurora felt like an extension of my body, and every sense and reflex was magnified a thousandfold. I yanked back the stick and flipped Aurora right over in a hammerstall. "Look out below!" I dived at the first fighter I saw, and blasted it with my miniguns. It exploded spectacularly.
"To hell with this! All units fall back!" Asriel turned his fighter around and jammed the burners up to full. His fighter vanished in a flash moments later as the jump drive kicked in. His colleagues weren't far behind.
"Round one to us, methinks," I laughed. "Good job, everybody. They won't try that again for a while!" I set down near the jetty, and taxied in.
"Still got the touch then?" Jack remarked. "Not bad for an old guy."
"I'm not forty-five yet, you cheeky bastard!" Well, if you don't count the five years I spent dead, anyway.
"Metatron has established a base of operations in the Alps of the world of the Nazis. It is an old schloss of some kind," Xanthania explained. "A former luxury residence of the old regime, I believe."
"The Wolf's Lair," I agreed. "I've heard of it. I dread to think what the defences will be like."
"What I'm wondering is how we're going to get everybody there," John added. "Our airlifters are gone. With the portal generator left over from the last war we can get as far as the right world, but then there's a journey of several hundred miles."
Jack looked thoughtful for a moment. "John, I think I've got an idea..."