The images were grainy as the
acrobats impossibly jumped from one frame to another. Turner and Angel loved to
watch these jerky, ancient films. They had been lovingly transferred to safe
celluloid stock by their Uncle Jerome. Their great grandfather had worked in
the early moving picture industry and his reels of ageing film had started to
disintegrate and, on one memorable occasion, burst into flames. It was decided
that the surviving films should be copied onto new celluloid from which they
could be more easily digitised. After the promise of funding, Uncle Jerome
intended to send them to a specialist technology company which had the software
to restore them frame by frame.
Even
before that could be done, it was magical, watching the original uncut scenes
filmed over a century ago. The whirring of the projector and splash marks of
deterioration only added to the strange wonder of the pantomime performances.
There were also films of horse drawn carriages vying for space with the
newfangled vehicles powered by combustion engines - one was actually steam
driven!
Turner’s
young sister, Angel, clapped with glee, even more excited than her brother. The
Victorian pictures were totally unlike the humdrum images uploaded on social
media. They may have been in colour and of exotic places, but these black and
white films breathed life into a world the brother and sister only learnt about
in class. Although the people had been long dead, they were more real than the
idiots doing pratfalls or taking selfies on the edges of cliffs.
“Now
would you like to see something really amazing?” asked Uncle Jerome. There was
a mischievous sparkle in his eye which made the invitation irresistible.
Turner
and Angel wondered what could be more extraordinary.
“Yes
please!”
“This
is really old. Your great grandfather was only a boy when this was filmed. No
one knows who took it, or how, because the cine camera as we know it had not
been invented - according to the experts anyway. You must promise not to tell
anyone about it though.”
Turner
and Angel promised.
“If
anyone else finds out it exists things might get complicated,” their uncle went
on. “It has been a family secret for a hundred years.”
“Do
our parents know about it?” asked Turner.
“No.
Your grandparents decided that, because your mother and father strongly believe
that there should be no secrets about anything, they might not understand and
tell everyone.”
“That's
right,” agreed
“You
two are the only surviving members of the family. After you have seen this film
you will realise why it must be kept secret.”
Uncle
Jerome removed a reel of film from a canister labelled, ‘Friends from Mars.'
This
was unlike the others. The frames juddered and frequently skipped several
altogether.
“There
were hardly any perforations in the original film and it was necessary to
transfer the frames one by one. It took forever,” explained Uncle Jerome. “Still
can't work out what camera was used, though it must have taken these pictures
in real time. Nothing like it came up in any of my searches.”
Angel
and Turner were hardly listening, too intent on watching the projector screen.
Though the images were indistinct, they could make out that a battle had taken
place and the dismembered corpses of soldiers killed by cannon fire lay strewn
on the ground.
They
were horrified.
Having
seen the film so often, it hadn’t occurred to Uncle Jerome how shocking the
sight would be to someone who hadn't, especially his young niece and nephew.
Then
his enthusiasm took over. “This is a really interesting bit.”
The
battlefield was suddenly lit up by a bright light.
Turner
did not want to admit that he was relieved it had obscured the gory scene. “Is
that a fault in the film?”
“I
thought so until I saw what came after.”
Angel
had the ability to perceive the obvious that adults often missed. “This was
taken by a soldier, wasn't it?”
It
had taken her uncle much longer to work that out. “Probably a very clever one
ordered there as an observer. It was unlikely anyone else realised - or cared -
what he was doing.”
The
illumination filling the battlefield took on a definite shape. It was oval and
probably had flashing lights, though the primitive camera had been too slow to
record them.
There
was a break in the film. When it continued the huge shape was hovering over the
corpses. It was possible to make out the surviving soldiers running for their
lives.
“Wicked...”
Turner muttered.
Despite
her ability to see the obvious, Angel still had a problem with the reality
adults took for granted. “It's not real though, is it?”
Uncle
Jerome hesitated before telling her, “Oh, it's real enough. No one in the
family could have faked anything like this.”
Angel
was more familiar with modern cartoons. “But someone must have done. Look,
those creatures are like something out of a Pixar
film.”
“There
was no CGI over a hundred years ago. The zoetrope could create an animation,
and the earliest cartoons were pretty simple, albeit beautifully drawn. No,
this actually happened.”
“Then
how did your grandfather get hold of it?” asked Turner.
“I
think it was given to him by someone who decided that the military shouldn't
have it.”
The
brother and sister watched the willowy aliens pick their ways through the
desperately injured soldiers. The survivors were magically floated up into the
huge, oval shape.
“What
happened to them?” demanded Angel.
“Probably
reported as missing in action.”
The
film abruptly stopped.
“It
happened so long ago. Would it matter if the authorities did find out now?”
asked Turner.
“There
is no record of that battle ever happening.”
“Where
did it take place then?”
“Can't
tell you.”
“Have
you been there?”
“Several
times.”
“What
did you find?”
“Nothing.”
“There
must have been something there,” insisted Angel.
“A
very big hole in the ground.”
“What
sort of hole?”
“Quarry.”
“What
were they digging up then?”
“No
idea.”
“Yes
you have.”
“Can
you take us there?” asked
Uncle
Jerome should have known that after telling them so much that they would want
to see for themselves. “The army might shoot you.”
“They
didn't shoot you. If it happened so long ago, why would they?”
“Dirty
secrets.”
“You
did find out what the battle was really about didn’t you?” accused Angel.
Uncle
Jerome hadn't expected his nephew and niece to be this interested. “All right. There were letters from survivors who didn't
disappear. These soldiers had been sent to put down the mutiny by another
platoon. The authorities kept the massacre secret.”
“There's
no harm in us looking at this quarry though?” insisted
“Take
us there,” Angel joined in.
Uncle
Jerome knew that they would keep on about it until he did what they asked, and
even might let slip they had seen the film to their parents if their curiosity
wasn’t satisfied. Telling them that he was taking them on a picnic, the brother
and sister left with Uncle Jerome in his station wagon. As usual, his old
The
quarry on the other side was deep, its walls steep and there was evidence that
digging had stopped a long while ago.
“Were
they looking for a spaceship?” Angel wanted to go down there. “I can see steps.”
Her
uncle should have known that she would notice them. “There's nothing to see,
believe me.”
“That's
because they had been digging in the wrong place,” she declared confidently.
Uncle
and brother did not contradict the young girl. As usual, her guileless view of
things enabled her to see the obvious long before anyone else.
Though
something did occur to Turner. “What happened to the
mutineers the aliens rescued?”
“Probably
went into hiding as soon as they were well enough. I know I would have done.”
“And
what happened to the aliens?”
“Probably
went home.”
None
of them believed that an intelligent species would travel across the galaxy
just to do good deed and then return home again.
Ali
Baba started to wag his tail enthusiastically as Angel pointed to a young man
approaching them.
“Hello,”
she called. “Do you know what happened here?”
The
young man gave a mysterious smile.
“You
do, don't you,” she declared. “You shouldn't be here and we shouldn’t be here.”
He
nodded.
“Then
why hasn't anyone stopped us?”
He
smiled again and patted the old
“They
daren’t, dare they,” the young girl declared
defiantly.
Uncle
Jerome was apprehensive. “Angel...”
“It's
all right,” she told him. “We're safe enough. No one would dare come after us.”
Turner
became frustrated. “What are you talking about?”
“He's
our friend, and knows we can keep secrets.”
Uncle
and brother were now very worried.
“Come
away Angel,” Uncle Jerome told her. “Don't be a nuisance. I'm sure the young
man has other things to do.”
Angel
stamped petulantly. “Young man? He's not a young man!
Why can't you see that?” She turned to the stranger. “Show them who you really
are.”
“No!”
Uncle Jerome and Turner shouted together.
The
shape of the young man shimmered for a few seconds before changing into a
slender alien.
With
another mysterious smile, the ‘Friend from Mars’ disappeared.
“See
what I mean,” Angel said.
Turner
was too scared to answer. “Where’d he go?”
“Oh
really...” Angel strode off. “Come on Ali Baba, I'm going to find an ice cream
van,” and the old dog followed her back across the field.
“As
long as it's not from Alpha Centauri,” muttered Uncle Jerome.