The Universe was tilting, there was no doubting that. When the King put a pen on his desk, it promptly rolled off. He called in his Number 2, Waldorius. "This just isn't good enough, Waldo. Here I am, King of the Universe, and people are complaining that we are leaning. Have you noticed that?"

This was a blow to Universe Number 2, Waldorius Deluthe. He stared out of Heaven and did not like what he was seeing. "I assure you, My Lord, I am doing everything I can to convince the Cosmic Council that we have this imbalance under control."

"Try harder, Waldo. Collect the best stories you can that are lies. Edit them, revise them, change them, do with them what you can, but realise that I cannot face the Council if they have faith in me. Remember, I am the perfect King because I know very little. And what I did know - I have forgotten."

Waldorius knew his own job was on the line. For three million years he had held the position of Universe Number 2 - and he was just getting the hang of it. Of course, there had been the odd Constellation that caused trouble but he had put them to the sword. However, one literate and brave warrior from the Dexon Galaxy was a constant nuisance.

He was Pansonius, a renegade of the highest order, who tried to reposition Cirrus but the Council turned that down. Determined to cause disruption, Pansonius voted to replace a Galaxy with a Black Hole, but a Universe guard stole the voting slip and tore it to pieces. Therefore, Pansonius got the message - do not piss about with the Universe rules. However, Pansonius was ready for combat. His wife, Riana, had left him after five thousand years of marriage, claiming she was bored. Pansonius could not understand it - she had not given the marriage a chance.

Then came a master plan from Waldorius, for, in a distant galaxy, a trouble-making, arrogant little planet called Earth was sending weird electronic signals which were upsetting the Universal balance.

"I'm not having this," said the King. "Who do this lot think they are? I settle down to rest and I get strange twanging in my ears."

"That is Pop Music, My Lord."

"Is it? Well put a stop to it."

"How can we do that, My Lord?"

"Oh, I don't know - send a message to Pansonius, that ponce from Dexus. Give him one of those solve-three-crimes-at-one-visit space games, and set the last one to cure this Pop Music curse. Tell he we will make him the Duke of Dexon, and give him the galaxy. In fact, do anything to shut him up."

Pansonius received the message the following century. He was unhappy at the delay.
"The Royal Mail Delivery gets slower," he told Fulcrum, a friend.

"We should have stayed with the Pony Express, Pan," said Fulcrum. "What does the King want you to do?"

"He's offering me the Dukedom of Dexus if I can stop peculiar noises coming from planet Earth."

Fulcrum scowled. "Is that the one between Mars and Venus, or is it Mercury and Jupiter? I never was any good at astronomy."

"I cannot remember. Anyway, what is astronomy about?"

     Fulcrum grinned. "The stars, My Lord. I'm sure it's Earth that's been bitching about global warming. They haven't realised yet that they are due the Big Bang Volcano."

Pansonius packed a suitcase. He was the only space traveller who now bothered to change his socks. "That Waldorius creep has given me a task."

"A task, Pan? I thought Hercules had solved them all."

"He did decipher twelve of them, but, unknown to him, Waldorius slipped in another one."

Fulcrum sniffed. "That was unfair. Hercules died, and then Waldo added one more task. I don't trust Waldo - never have. What is the last assignment?"

Pansonius had it worked out. "I have to visit Earth and take a look at Richard III, and, if necessary, change the course of Earth's history.

"What did he do, Pan?"

"He lost his horse."

"Rather silly of him. What comes next?"

Pansonius fastened his case and put it on his space ski. "I go forward a couple of hundred years and find out who bumped off Nelson."

"Is that the fellow in Trafalgar Square with pigeon crap on him?"

"That's him. Then we come to part three." Pansonius sighed deeply and combed his golden locks. "I have to find the origin of this twanging noise. The King says it's disturbing the Universe."

"I find that odd, Pan."

"It is odd, Fulcrum, it really is, but why should I care? When I have completed my mission I shall become the Duke of Dexon"

"Does that give you greater powers?"

Pansonius flicked his head to toss his golden hair from his forehead. "Yes, I shall become Duke of the whole Dexus Galaxy."

"Of the whole Galaxy!" exclaimed Fulcrum. "That would make you a contender the next time the Cosmos Council votes for a new Number 2."

Pansonius climbed aboard the space ski. "Yes, I am aware of that. It's about time Waldo was kicked out of office, but enough of that. I'll see you in a couple of millenniums - it's Bosworth Field, here I come."
    
He put his foot down on the ski's time adjuster.

Richard III was having a tough time at Bosworth. His foot soldiers were retreating with astonishing speed; his cavalry, riding three up on each horse, had lost the eastern section, and many of his soldiers were now fighting for the other side. "Bloody cowards!" said Richard, drawing his sword and advancing toward the enemy. He did not have a chance, but fought bravely. His horse was killed, Richard fell, armour weighing him down. Yet still he fought - to the end. Pansonius, himself a warrior, recognised Richard's valour and left the field with admiration in his heart. He would not tamper with this part of Earth's history.

He adjusted the time meter on his ski and fast-forwarded to Trafalgar to find himself
hovering above two fleets in battle. What was going on? There were antique canons firing balls of iron and men wearing three-cornered hats. Enough of this, thought Pansonius. I'll forget this part of the task and sort out this twanging thing and get back to Dexon. He set off forward one hundred and sixty-five years.

With precision, he homed in above a massive crowd standing in front of a brightly lit stage at Afton Down. Pansonius had a degree in Universe History. Afton Down was hosting the 1970 music festival on the Isle of White. And what was this wonderful twanging coming from the stage? He saw a stocky. good-looking girl singing into a microphone. People around him were swaying to this twanging. He made the stage - and joined her. The audience started heckling. The girl stopped singing, her red hair a mass of curls sticking out of a ridiculous hat. The band behind her stopped twanging. "What do you want?" she said.

"I'm offering you a ride round the Universe."

"I've got all on singing to this lot, mate, without you messing me about, so clear off and let me get on with it." She was quick to notice he was astonishingly handsome.

"Your microphone does not work," he said.

She spoke into it - he was right, there was no sound. "Here, Harry," she turned to one of her band. "I've no electrics."

"Neither have I," he said.

Other guitarists had the same problem. The stage lights went out. "What's going on here?" she asked Pansonius. The audience began a slow hand clap.

"You have no power. I can give that to you." Although the stage was dark he could see her clearly.

"Right," she said, "if you're a smart guy, then switch this power on." Pansonius pointed to the dark sky and snapped together finger and thumb. Lightning flashed, striking the microphone the girl was holding, but she was shielded by the future Duke. The stage lights re-lit. The audience cheered. Harry tried a chord on his guitar. The power was on.

"Here, how did you do that?" she said. "Did you pay your electricity bill?"

"No - I did that because I am Pansonius."

"Yeah, and I'm Queen Victoria."

The audience began jeering. Pansonius knew it was time for action. "Get me a guitar."

She went over to Harry. "Here, Harry, give this geezer your guitar, and if he can't play it then sling him into the crowd. I don't know how he got on stage anyway." The audience was becoming restive. Harry gave Pansonius the guitar - it was a Fender Telecaster.

Bam! The first chord Pansonius struck was ear shattering. What followed was a massive volume and sensational solo that had the mob cheering. The girl tried a song - any song, she could not hear a word in the calamity. The music became louder. Pansonius allowed it to surge and then set it for maximum output. At the end, with the crowd shrieking for more, Pansonius swept her from the stage and in seconds, on the ski, they were circling the crowd below. "What are we doing up here?" she shouted.

"I'm taking you through Time." He had given her Harry's guitar.

"Time Travel? Do I need a passport?"

"No, this is a journey without end - until we get to Dexon."

"Dexon? Where's that then, near Brighton?"

"It's far away - into the Heavens. You can either travel with me or I can return you to the stage. It's your choice."

She played a guitar chord. "I'll stay with you, mate. Shall I play you a tune?"

"Yes, play me King of the Universe."

"Sorry mate, I don't know it."

Pansonius smiled. "Whatever you play - make it loud - enough to tilt the Universe."

He gave the space ski full power.