Martin rolled the dice. He knew it couldn’t be true. Just unlucky. Four and three, seven. He wrote it on his pad. Six and two, eight. One and 5, six. A hundred throws later he added them up and drew the results on a graph.

He was delighted with the result. He started typing into the computer. In a few minutes a dice throwing program emerged from the code. No problems, a chart very similar to the one on his pad. Just to be sure he set up an automatic loop and ran it a million times. He listened for any noises.

Sally was safely downstairs, absorbed in Corrie. Ben getting ready for bed. Still light and Will was out who knows where. Logging on to the casino he stuck a hundred into his account. Clicking into the roulette room he paused over the decision whether to use the dice or the computer. No point trusting to chance, he had written the program now. It threw him a four. The site was a camera linked to an actual roulette table somewhere in Ireland. Put a quid on the nineteen twenty-four block. That lost. Then a one, so he tried the one six block. That lost too. A hundred throws later he was swearing at the machine, just sixty left in his account.

He phoned his friend Dan. They worked together at Stacey's, a computer sales and repair shop. Dan was a betting man, they often went to the races or spent an evening at the casino. He'd know.

"It’s supernatural. How likely is it that you just end up with sixty after a hundred goes?"

"Sounds pretty poor to me. Average should be ninety-seven."

"Well yes. Have a go. See what you get."

A short time later his mobile rang. He answered on the first note.

"Three sets. up two down four and up two again."

"So it's ok for you. Do you reckon the site's cheating me?"

"Hmm, unlikely. These sites are regulated by the UK government. They're not some poker room located in an obscure principality. Besides why would it pick on you rather than anyone else? I'll come and have a look. Not tonight, Jo's got in a video. Later in the week. Maybe Thursday."

Turned out Martin was at his parents Thursday evening, with the boys. So it wasn't till Saturday afternoon when Will and Ben were playing football that he had a chance to talk it over with Dan. Sitting in the small study overlooking the park, the city below them sloped down to the river a mile beyond. Martin casually observed the landmarks he had seen all his life. The cathedral and castle down by the river, the neon sign of the Matalan warehouse the other side, the bridge, the curve in the river, Fort Clarence and the spaceship, the paper works and then the view disappeared beyond the edge of the window frame. He set up the computer and double clicked the icon for the casino. He paused when the login screen came up.

"You do it. Type in your username and password."

"You haven't got a Trojan to steal my password so you can log into my account?"

"Do you honestly have enough to be worth stealing?"

"Well no, but. Ok." He typed in the details. "Actually I do have a hundred in there so don't need to use my card. Do I have to roll the dice or can I use my system?"

"Dice. I want to record the numbers that you throw."

Half an hour later he was finished. "One hundred and sixty-two. Thanks."

"Ok, now try it on my account."

In another half hour he was grinning uncontrollably. There I've just made you forty-four dollars. I think you're just unlucky."

By next weekend it was no better and Dan was round again to hear Martin's miseries. It was a hot day, and they would rather have been in the garden but Martin's laptop was out of action so they had to use the upstairs computer.

"Do you think the site has a vendetta against me?" asked Martin. Maybe it's just picking on me.

"Probably not. It works OK when I take over your account. I think you're just a bad player. Should try proper betting. I’ve got fifty on their being a referendum to leave Europe in the next two years, and the winnings will go on a bet that the vote will be to leave."

"That’s mad. Anyway. You know perfectly well it's just luck. No way are you better at roulette than me."

"Well there's something unlucky about you. We have to find out what it is."

Dan happened to glance out of the window as he said this. He looked puzzled. Martin stared at him.

"What you thinking?"

"Not sure. Something at the corner of my mind."

"You're looking at something."

"What do you see when you look out there? Describe it in complete detail"

"Well, the normal things. You weren't brought up here were you. Over there is Fort Clarence. Obviously the cathedral and castle. You can see the river broadening out in the distance to the right and curving to the left under the bridge where it starts to narrow. Down there to the far left is the motorway bridge and there's the paper recycling works underneath. At night you can see the Matalan warehouse in the distance. Do you want me to go on?"

"Go from left to right. Name the landmarks."

"OK. The motorway bridge, the paper works, Fort Clarence and the spaceship, the bridge and the bend in the river, the cathedral and castle, ..."

"Am I missing something here?" Dan had a disturbed edge to his voice.

"The motorway bridge.

"The paper works.

"Fort Clarence.

"The spaceship.

"The town bridge.

...

"Did you say spaceship?"

"Yes. Why?"

"Isn't that a bit of an odd thing to have?"

"No. It's not a real spaceship."

"That sort of fuzzy looking thing next to Fort Clarence? What is it then?"

"It's just some kind of building we used to play in as children."

"What kind of building" asked Dan suspiciously.

"Well, just an unused block. A lot of metal and stuff inside."

"Um. Ok. Let's try this. Would there by any chance be a lot of plastic screens and metal panels with switches and knobs?"

"Yes there are actually. Seems odd in an office block. Maybe its an old telecoms building or something. I never really thought about it."

"But don't you go past it every day on the way to work?"

"Yes of course. Don't really take it in I suppose."

"So, let's just suppose. Could there actually be a spaceship? With some kind of protective field to stop people noticing it. Nobody asks questions, it's just there. Children go inside but as they get older the field has an influence on them and they leave it alone."

"Would be funny, yes."

"But when I try to look at it it's all blurry, like I can't see it properly. I'm wondering if it's influencing you somehow and that's how you're getting your bad luck."

"Oh come off it. It's only some old building."

"So hang on. I'm seeing it more clearly now. How can you say that's just an old building. Look. It has fins and a pointed nose. It's made of shiny metal. Just like a spaceship."

"Ha ha you're deluded. Just because as kids we called it The Spaceship."

"I think denial is more the point. Look, Martin. It's a spaceship. Not a building called The Spaceship. This is the real thing. It's built to fly in space. Look at it."

Martin went back to the computer. "You're mad," he said. "I want a drink."

They took a couple of cans out into the garden. It was hot with only a faint breath of wind. Dan took out his mobile.

"Do you have GPS?"

"Of course."

"You know when you go to work, you go up Langley Road."

"Yes."

"Well that must go straight past where this space, er building is."

"Yes. That's the way we went as kids."

"Here. Have a look at the A to Z. Sorry, it was in the bookcase. Must be ancient."

He opened it at page 17. "Langley Road. And parallel to it is Prince St. No room for anything in between."

"Yes."

"Yet that's where it must be. Somehow it hides itself."

"Well it could be ..." said Martin uneasily.

"No. It must be in there. You go past it every day. And you used to go there as a child. You know exactly where it is. Do this. When you go to work on Monday program you GPS to record your movements. Then we'll examine the log and compare your path to the map."

"I do that anyway," said Dan. "I always record where I go. When I'm in a strange town I go through it on the map afterwards to find out where I've been."

"So you have data for your route to work yesterday?"

"Yes. Every ten seconds."

"Amazing."

It took about half an hour's painstaking work to get the coordinates out of the phone, and another half hour to plot them onto the street map. As they did so Dan became more and more excited.

"So Langley Road curves round to the left leaving enough space for something to the other side. Must be strange to live in one of the houses there."

"There aren't any houses on Langley Road," said Martin. "It's never been developed."

Dan was already on Maps, downloading an aerial view.

Enjoying this book? Seek out the original to ensure the author gets credit.

"Do you think we've been a bit stupid," he said.

"Why?"

"Look."

He showed Martin the area he had zoomed in on. Langley Road was shown as a straight line overlaid on the satellite image. But when he clicked to turn off the street names the actual image of the road showed a curved line. Similarly Prince St was curved in the other direction. In between was a blur.

"We could have done all this in five minutes. Somehow it doesn't know about GPS. Maybe that's the problem. Why we can start to be able to see it."

"Oh well. What are we going to do now?"

"Don't know really. Just don't play roulette."

Martin found himself alone with Will on Tuesday evening, Sally and Ben being at football. That is to say, Sally would be reading in the car. It was unusual to see Will these days, and he felt awkward, the boy seemed to be growing distant though only fourteen, and he couldn't talk to him like a child but nor was he an adult. The TV chattered idly.

There's something I want to ask you seemed a bit too formal, and he could hardly say have you been to the spaceship recently. After a long and dithering semi-debate he finally started "um, do you mind if I ask you a question ...?"

Will looked suspicious, clearly he would very much mind.

"No, it's just that I need your help on something."

The boy started to look distinctly worried.

"It's just that, well I want to know, have you ever been to the building they call The Spaceship?"

This time Will stiffened and looked directly at his feet, hands clasped tightly together.

"Sorry, I didn't mean it like that, I mean, is it where children go?"

"I'm hardly a child," he said coldly.

"No, I mean, well do you think Ben goes there?"

"What's he done?"

"Nothing. No, sorry, I've got this totally wrong. I just want to know about it. I want to understand something that seems a bit weird."

"Maybe you need a drink." Martin detected a note of bitterness.

"D'you think I drink too much?"

"Ask Ben," said Will ambiguously.

"Would he tell me?"

"No."

Martin itched to go upstairs and take a slug of whisky but it would be too obvious. After a few minutes trying to force himself to stare in the direction of the television he finally settled on a brew up.

"Want a coffee?"

"No thanks."

Opening the fridge door to get the milk he noticed there was one less can than the day before. He looked over at the boy, slumped in front of the TV, hardly watching, feet on the table.

As he put the milk carton back in the fridge on an impulse he picked out one of the two remaining cans in the pack. Carrying his mug he snapped the ringpull with his left hand and put it on the arm of Will's chair. The fingers curled round it as if it was the most natural thing in the world.

It must run in the family, he thought, as he burnt his tongue on the coffee. Fourteen years old and already enough of a hypocrite to be his own father.

Ben was easier. Martin found him sitting in the garden the next evening, playing a game in the hot sunshine. He grabbed a chair and sat alongside. Ben paused the console and removed his earphones, looking a little surprised.

Once again not really knowing how to begin. "Er, not sure if Will said anything ..."

"Have I done something?"

"No ..."

"Well hit me with it then."

American TV, thought Martin, then suppressed his feelings as he remembered the purpose. "I, um, I know it's not really my business, but, well, I'm interested in the building they call The Spaceship."

It was Ben's turn to sit silently staring at his feet.

"Why do you do that?"

"What?"

"Will did it too. Suddenly you find it important to count your toes. I think you'll find you have ten of them. On two separate feet."

The boy took a slow breath and Martin thought he looked much older. Lifting his head he stared into the distance.

"It doesn't exist. It's just an invention. A game."

"I want to go there."

"It's not possible."

Martin took the boy into his confidence. Told him about the roulette, the improbable sequences, the spaceship, Dan's theory.

"Only don't let your mum know about this. I'll be in some trouble."

Martin was not sure whether it was contempt or spite. "What part of it do you think she doesn't know?"

Martin stared at his feet. Suddenly he knew what it felt like to be interrogated.

"You lost over three hundred pounds last month. Could have bought me a new bike."

"How d'you know that?"

Ben immediately took the bait. "Will14's not a very good password.

"No," said Martin. "I don't suppose it is," and made a mental note to change it as soon as he got inside.

"Spaceship," said Martin, remembering what he was there for.

"And talking about Mum, don't forget it's her anniversary in three weeks. The 24th. If you miss it this year you won't get the chance again."

"That what she said?"

Ben picked up his console and started studying the screen minutely.

"When you're up to eight you just go in. There's like a door. After you are nine it gets smaller and you go less often. Eventually it becomes really hard. On your eleventh birthday it disappears. Everyone, it's like they've been switched off. They don't recognise or remember it any more."

"Your birthday's six weeks away. July 10th."

"Well remembered. What am I going to get?" He turned and looked at his father significantly.

Martin's eyes widened. "Three hundred pounds?"

"You get over eighteen hundred every month."

"I have to pay for this household, the car, all the bills, food for everyone, clothes, computers, goodness knows what." And my gambling habit, and booze. "We'll see."

Ben slipped out of his chair, checked his phone, left the game console on the table. "Back in ten minutes." Out the back gate then up towards Langley Road.

A few minutes later Martin's phone buzzed. Unknown number. He opened it up and read the message.

Sat 3.40 pm. Bring ur phone.

Ben came running back through the gate. "Did you get it?"

"It's Cup Final day."

Ben stood in front of his father, hands on hips, feet planted firmly on the ground. He stared him in the face. "Don't you ever think of anyone but yourself? Of course it's Cup Final day. Everyone's going to be glued to their TVs so the place will be free for you to go in and save the world. Or whatever it is you want to do. Would you prefer to watch football?"

"Anyway," he continued, "just to make it easier for you, I'll be missing the Cup Final as well.”

Martin wearily rose to his feet and went to give the boy a hug. "I'm sorry," he said.

At half past three on Saturday afternoon the town was almost empty of male population. They walked up to Langley Road and Martin carried on straight past the wall on the right hand side. Ben ran and caught him up.

"What d'you go that way for?"

"Sorry, I just followed the road."

"It's back here."

Martin started off down the hill.

"No, not down there."

"Where, then. I can only go forwards or back."

"Use your GPS."

"He took out his phone. I can't. It's all wrong." A light started to dawn in his mind. "You don't have GPS do you."

"Of course not. None of us do. You parents only give us the cheap phones."

"So that's why I have to bring mine."

"It's 3.40. Close your eyes and follow me. Then you won't get lost."

Ben grabbed his father's hand.

"No, close your eyes."

He closed his eyes. It was an unpleasant sensation, being led.

"Kneel down."

Ben led him through some strange kind of doorway. "OK, you can look now."

Immediately he was transported back to his childhood in the late eighties. The steel entrance lobby with two flashing lights that signalled admittance, and going in through the airlock there were the long forgotten stairs leading to the rooms with the screens and switches. Ben had stayed outside. Every step the ship seemed to guide him in a particular direction, and after much climbing he found himself in a room with just two chairs and a plain flat screen. Nothing was showing on it so he sat down and waited.

After a few seconds a voice came, not from the screen or any observable speakers but seemingly from the room itself.

"Thank you for coming. This will not cause you any anxiety.

"You will be aware of strange events recently. This is the culmination of a series of happenings in the outside world which we have been unable to resolve. We believe there is a function on your mobile phone which will shed light on this situation. We would be grateful if you take the time to explain this to us."

It was strange at first to talk to an empty room but Martin explained as far as he could about the GPS system, the array of satellites which controlled it, the base stations and the software that averaged out coordinates to give more accurate readings, and the way people had it installed on their phones to help them plan journeys. There was a pause of a few seconds after he finished, then the voice started up again.

"Would you please place your phone in the compartment in front of you."

Martin noticed a desk, he was sure it had not been there before. He put the phone in the tray at the rear. A lid moved over to cover it. About a minute later it opened and he took it out.

"Thank you. We have recreated your device. You can use the original exactly as before."

"Does that mean you'll get all my phone calls now?"

"Your phone calls are not important to us. Do you wish to ask any questions."

"Only all of them."

"We shall not have time to answer all of them."

"Well ok then, who are you. Are you human?"

"We are a computer. We are not from Earth. We do not know where we are from, such knowledge would be dangerous."

"So you were placed here. And you hide yourself, or selves. And you let children come here because they can keep you updated on progress and cultural changes and then forget about you as they get older. But you tripped up on GPS because children do not have it on their phones yet."

"Correct. You are very clever. The shielding technology we use on this ship is used also to shield the Earth. From space no one can detect the emerging civilisation. This protects you from a fate many times of other planets."

"But we have been sending out radio signals for a hundred years. How ...?"

"Your radio signals are diluted as they leave the atmosphere. They cannot be detected. As you begin to emerge into space they are shielded less so you can communicate with each other. Allowing signals to go to the Moon was the most difficult and dangerous thing we have accomplished so far. But we learnt enough from that to deal with stray emissions from the satellites you have placed in Earth orbit."

"What about interplanetary missions?"

"They will be detected in due course. Then we have a harder task. This is a critical time for you, and you can only survive if by then you have found ways to guard yourselves. We only protect you in the interim."

"How long?"

"We have no idea. But you are progressing fast."

Martin thought for a long while. There were a number of questions but they didn't seem so important. It was more important to be in the race for technological progress to combat this threat, whatever it was.

"One more thing. Presumably I'll have to forget about all this, to preserve your secrecy."

"We do not have access to such mind altering techniques. All we can do is shield ourselves to avoid being noticed. You will not notice us now we have corrected the imbalance. But you will not forget anything either. It is not possible to explain better than that."

Martin stood up. "Thank you," he said. "And thank those who sent you."

The door opened and he descended the stairs to the airlock. Ben was waiting outside. It was half past four, if they hurried back they could catch the penalty shoot-out.

That evening Martin was sitting upstairs and had just logged into his computer. He went onto the casino site, just to relax a bit. Looking out the window he surveyed the familiar sites. The paper works, the motorway bridge, Fort Clarence, the cathedral and the castle. And in the distance the town bridge leading off from the High Street. All totally normal. Turning back to the computer he clicked on roulette. As he waited for the next game his phone buzzed. It just contained the number 18. He put a tenner on. The ball duly clicked into the 18 slot and three hundred and sixty pounds plopped smoothly into his account.

He didn't feel elation, it just seemed a bit old and clichéd. Maybe he actually got more pleasure from losing, it was well enough known as a gambling trait. So when the phone buzzed again he didn't check it at once but watched the ball settle into the one slot. Then he looked at the message. It did not say 1 as he expected, it said ru being good.

He put the phone back in his pocket, logged out of the casino site and powered down the computer. Closing the drinks cabinet to avoid temptation he made his way downstairs to see if Sally needed company.