Eddy Stone and the Alien Cat Attack Read online

  “Make sure you are home in half an hour,” said Eddy’s mum. “We have to get the last few costume orders in the post in time for Christmas. Your aunt and uncle have kindly offered to come and help pack them up, so we’ll need you to look after little Millie.”

  “Again?” said Eddy.

  “A bit of responsibility is good for you at your age,” his mum replied.

  “But it’s supposed to be a holiday. You know, fun.”

  “It will be fun,” said Millie. “We can play ponies – just like yesterday.”

  “I am not going to eat grass again,” said Eddy. “It tastes disgusting.”

  “I quite like it,” said Millie.

  “You gave it a quick chew and spat it out when you thought I wasn’t looking,” said Eddy. “I saw you.”

  “I only said I quite like it,” said Millie. “I quite like peas, too, and I do the same with them.”

  “What shall we do with you?” said Aunt Maureen with a sigh. No one said what they were thinking. They were all too polite. “It’s ever so kind of you to look after her, Eddy.”

  “Yes,” said Eddy. “I know. I’m off now.”

  “And don’t forget your bobble hat,” his aunt added.

  “I don’t think anyone could forget that hat,” said Uncle Ken. “No matter how hard they tried.” The bobble hat was another of Aunt Maureen’s special creations, knitted in stripes of red and green wool and decorated for Christmas by weaving in pieces of coloured ribbon, some plastic holly leaves, a strand of battery-operated fairy lights, and strips of tinsel. Lots and lots of tinsel. There wasn’t another one like it in the whole world – apart from the one that Aunt Maureen had made for Millie.

  Eddy loved it. He liked the way people smiled when he wore it – though he drew the line at turning the fairy lights on. Not in the daytime. He pulled it down to keep his ears warm, and stomped off down the street.

  The cold drizzle pricked his cheeks. He knocked on doors. But no one knew anything about a missing ginger cat. After ten minutes he reached the last house in the street. Clifftop Cottage. He didn’t think it was even worth knocking there, because no cat would have lasted two minutes inside its high iron fence. Not with Brutus around.

  Eddy was not sure what sort of dog Brutus was. He had once asked Brutus’s owner, but the only reply he got was “a big one”. The owner had also said that Brutus wouldn’t harm a fly, but Eddy reckoned that was only because Brutus thought attacking flies was a waste of effort when there were so many larger things that would be much more fun to harm. Like neighbours.

  He decided to give Clifftop Cottage a miss. He was just tiptoeing quietly away to avoid disturbing Brutus, when his foot came down on a fallen leaf that was lying on the pavement. The leaf let out a sound – a faint crackle like a potato crisp being crunched by someone a whole street away. A sound that pricked Brutus’s ears and brought him thundering and barking across the front lawn of Clifftop Cottage.

  Wham! The great beast hurled himself against the front gate with a clang that made Eddy’s teeth tingle.

  “Arf!” He let out a bark that made Eddy’s hair stand on end.

  His owner always said this was just Brutus’s way of being friendly. But Eddy didn’t have any other friends who drooled uncontrollably when they saw him.

  “Arf!” Eddy broke into a trot back down the street.

  “Arf! Arf!” Further away and fainter, until he reached the safety of his own front door.

  His mum was already in the hall with her coat on.

  “Good,” she said as he stepped inside. “Millie’s playing on the computer in the front room. Lunch is in the fridge, I’m going to catch the others up, you have a lovely day.”

  “I won’t,” Eddy panted, but his mother was already halfway down the front path. He peeled off his wet coat and hat. He would just have a minute or two of peace and quiet before he went to see what Millie was up to.

  But the little girl appeared at the door of the front room.

  “How did cats write before there were keyboards?” she said.

  “What?” said Eddy.

  “I mean, they couldn’t hold pens in their paws, could they? Did they put them between their teeth, or did they just dip their paws in the ink and make big letters?”

  “Cats can’t write,” said Eddy.

  “Oh, ha ha,” said Millie. “Of course they can.”

  “No, really,” said Eddy. “They can’t.”

  “Well, you had better tell that to Mr Furrytummysnugglepaws,” said Millie. “He wants to know if we’ve got a hempi-something.”

  “What?” said Eddy.

  “A humpi…perfi…oh, I can’t remember now. Just come and see. He typed it on the computer.”

  Eddy followed Millie into the front room. The cat was sitting on the desk by the computer. There was a message on the screen.

  I have come to your planet to give important information to your people, _

  Eddy read.

  But my communications interface has malfunctioned. The hemispherical perforated diffusion baffle is worn out. It must be replaced. _

  “Oh, right,” Eddy said to Millie. “Cats from space. I bet this is your dad’s idea, isn’t it? You can’t even say hemispherical perforated diffusion baffle, never mind spell it, but it’s just the sort of thing that Uncle Ken would think was funny. Well nice try, ha ha, but you’ll have to do better than this to trick me.”

  He expected Millie to break into giggles now that he had seen through the joke. But she didn’t even smile.

  “I so can say hupispurtical preferated division bottle and it wasn’t me or my dad and you’d better read what the cat’s typing now anyway, so there.”

  Eddy heard a slow tapping behind him. He looked round. His jaw dropped. The cat was picking out letters on the keyboard with his paw.

  I need your help, _ the cat typed.

  “See?” said Millie. “Told you.”

  “Can…you…un…der…stand…what…I…am…say…ing?” Eddy said slowly.

  “Yes…I…can,” answered Millie.

  “Not…you – I mean, not you,” said Eddy. “Him.”

  Yes, _ the cat typed.

  “Good,” said Eddy. “Because I’d like to know what on Earth is going on. And off Earth, too, if you are really from another planet. And I’d also like to have a little sit-down. I thought there was something a bit odd about you last night, but this—” He ran out of words.

  “Is everyone on your planet a cat?” said Millie.

  This is not my true form, _ the cat typed. Our scientists built this tubeoid body for me so that my arrival would not cause undue alarm. We have been observing your home world – or minor planet Cz492gamma, as we know it – for several years. We have monitored your transmissions and gathered information by questioning one of your inhabitants. _

  This brief message might have led Eddy to raise many intriguing topics of conversation.

  Where was the cat from?

  What did he mean about scientists building his body?

  What was a tubeoid?

  Why was Earth classified as a minor planet?

  What transmissions had they seen?

  Who was the inhabitant they had questioned?

  And perhaps most intriguing of all, how long would it take for a video of a cat typing to get a million hits on the internet?

  But Eddy asked none of these. His brain was quite busy enough being completely astonished. Instead, he just managed a small noise in his throat – like a hamster with a hiccup – as the cat continued.

  We noted that the cat creature is the dominant species here and so… _

  “What are domino speeches?” said Millie.

  “Dominant species,” Eddy managed to say. “He means the cats are in charge – the top dogs.”

  “Cats can’t be dogs,” said Millie.

  “And they aren’t in charge either,” said Eddy. “Humans are.”

  We have observed that cats do whatever they wish, rest wherever
and whenever they want, and ignore everything that you say to them – while you humans rush around all day, provide them with shelter, and obey the information boxes when they give you orders to feed them. _

  “What information boxes?” asked Eddy. “What orders?”

  The cat’s paws dabbed at the keyboard. Last night, there were many orders for you to feed me on your information box. Too many for me, but I am not used to this strange tubeoid body with its primitive digestive system. _

  Eddy suddenly twigged.

  “You mean the cat-food adverts on TV?”

  If that is what you call them. _

  “But they are not orders to feed you. They are just trying to get us to buy things.”

  Your comment is noted, _ the cat typed.

  This is crazy, thought Eddy. Could he really be talking to an alien – an alien in the shape of a cat? Well, if it wasn’t an alien, it could only be a real cat with a wicked sense of humour that had suddenly learned how to type. And somehow that seemed even more unlikely.

  “So what is this hemispherical perforated diffusion baffle that you need?” he asked.

  It is a round piece of metal about as wide as your hand, with many small holes in it. _

  “Like a small kitchen sieve,” said Eddy. “But obviously not a kitchen sieve. I mean, whoever heard of anyone mending an alien spaceship with a kitchen sieve? Then again, whoever heard of anyone mending an alien spaceship at all? Hold on.”

  He rushed out of the room and rummaged in the cutlery drawer in the kitchen.

  “Would this do?” he said when he returned. “It’s a small kitchen sieve.”

  Possibly, _ the cat typed. But it will need to be covered with a damping baffle – it must be an organic material with a slight elasticity. _

  “Like a woolly sock,” said Eddy. “Wait here.”

  There was a pile of clean laundry in the kitchen, ready to be taken upstairs and put away. He found a grey school sock. He wouldn’t be needing that for the holidays.

  Back in the front room, he slipped the sock over the sieve. It fitted snugly. “It could have been made for the job,” he said.

  That might work, _ the cat typed.

  Due to a planning error which has allowed this life form to evolve without thumbs, I am unable to grip anything. I will need your assistance to make the repair. When we step away from the device that I am now using, I will no longer be able to communicate with you, so pay careful attention. I will lead you to my space podule. You will not be able to spot it because it is behind a disguise shield. I will deactivate the shield and open the communications interface. You will replace the broken hemispherical perforated diffusion baffle. Follow. _

  He jumped down from the computer desk and headed for the door.

  “I can’t leave you here on your own,” Eddy said to Millie. “You had better come too.”

  “To see a spaceship! Try and stop me,” said Millie. “Let’s go!”

  Like most parents, Eddy’s and Millie’s had warned them not to trust strangers. Unfortunately for everyone, they had never warned them to be especially sure not to trust strange aliens disguised as cats.

  “You’ll need your coat,” said Eddy.

  “Who says you can tell me what to do?” said Millie.

  “Your mum asked me to look after you,” said Eddy. “And you would do what she told you to, wouldn’t you?”

  “Only if she told me to do what I wanted to do anyway. She worked that out ages ago. But it is cold outside so I do want to put my coat on. And my special Christmas hat.”

  She tugged her bobble hat over her head, told Horaceboris to be good and wait there for her, and raced out of the door.

  “And you wait for me,” Eddy called after her. He pulled his coat on and stuffed his own hat into a pocket, along with the sieve-in-a-sock.

  The cat led them round to the back of the house, through a hole in the garden fence and across a small field to the woods that stood on the hill above Tidemark Bay. They pushed through some scrubby bushes and suddenly, right in front of them among the trees, they saw a toadstool. Its stem was almost white, its broad cap a smoky grey, speckled with large round dots of a darker grey colour. And it was almost as tall as a house.

  It was like nothing on Earth.

  It must be the disguise shield, thought Eddy. He was still wondering why the cat would choose a ridiculous disguise that wouldn’t fool anybody, when suddenly there was no more ridiculous disguise for anybody not to be fooled by. The toadstool evaporated in a shimmer of light. And in its place he could see what must be the undisguised space podule.

  Eddy had seen loads of books with pictures of what people thought alien spaceships might look like. He’d seen flying saucers and giant rockets and floating globes and fierce warcraft bristling with weapons. This podule looked nothing like any of them. It had a slightly wonky not-quite-round sort of shape – like a jellybean. Its outside was silver in colour and completely smooth all over. And it was almost as tall as a house.

  The giant silver jellybean began to bulge on one side. The bulge grew larger, until it spat out a metal cube, about as big as a biscuit tin. The cube tumbled to the ground, and a lid popped open on its top. Inside, Eddy could see something round that was wrapped in a dark woven covering.

  “What is it?” said Millie.

  “This metal cube must be the communications interface,” said Eddy. “And I think that round bit is the broken part that needs mending.”

  He pulled the sieve-in-a-sock from his coat pocket. He looked at the cat.

  “Is that it?” he asked.

  “Mew,” said the cat. Which really wasn’t any help at all.

  Carefully and slowly, Eddy swapped the old part for his sieve-in-a-sock. The replacement was a bit smaller, but once it was in position, the rest of the metal cube shrank slightly around it, until the sieve was snugly in place. Then the lid closed again, and the communications interface rolled over to the cat.

  “Do you think it will work?” said Eddy.

  “I think it already has. Can you hear me?”

  The sound of the new voice was not exactly in Eddy’s ears. More between his ears. Right in the middle of his head. He looked at the cat.

  “Yes,” said Eddy. “How are you doing that?”

  “Who are you talking to?” Millie said quietly.

  “The cat,” said Eddy.

  “Why?”

  “Because he is talking to us.”

  “Then why can’t I hear him?”

  “I don’t know,” said Eddy.

  “The advanced brains of our species allow us to communicate by thought…” the cat was saying.

  “I think I’ve got a bit of tinsel sticking in my ear,” said Millie. She pulled off her bobble hat to sort it out.

  “…but we need a communications interface,” the cat went on, “to amplify the waves to get through your thick skulls so you can hear us.”

  “Ooohh,” said Millie. “I think I can hear him now I’ve taken my hat off. Is that you, Mr Furrytummysnugglepaws?”

  “It’s me,” said the cat.

  “Prove it,” said Millie. “Say mew.”

  “Mew.”

  “Ooohh,” said Millie again. “Who’s a clever boy?”

  “What do you think of the podule?” the cat asked.

  “It’s very shiny and – um.” Eddy paused. “I don’t know really, I’ve never seen anything like it before so I’ve got nothing to compare it to.”

  “It’s the latest model,” the cat communicated. “So fast that if you look round quickly after you’ve taken off you can see yourself still on the ground about to leave. Want to take a look inside?”

  Eddy hesitated. This was all very strange.

  A small round hole, no bigger than a penny, appeared in the sleek silver skin of the ship, then grew larger and larger, like an opening mouth, until it was wide enough to clamber through.

  “Last one in is a loser!” Millie shouted, making a run for the podule.

&
nbsp; “Wait!” Eddy shouted. “Stay outside until I’ve—”

  “Yes, Mum! Whatever you say!” Millie shouted back as she climbed in through the hole.

  “And don’t touch any knobs or levers!” he shouted at Millie’s legs as she disappeared into the podule.

  Eddy clambered in after her, hoping that she hadn’t had time to break or fiddle with anything.

  But there was nothing to touch. The inside of the podule was as smooth as the outside. It felt slightly spongy – like a balloon filled with custard. And though it was silver on the outside, from the inside there were transparent windows, so they could see the woods all around them. The cat was still sitting among the trees, next to the metal cube that was his communications interface.

  “Close door,” said the cat.

  “What?” said Eddy. “Wait a minute!”

  But the opening that they had clambered in through had disappeared. They had been swallowed up.

  “Scan complete.” A voice rolled round the inside of the podule. “Physical functions and brain activity logged.”

  “Let us out of here,” said Eddy.

  “No,” said the cat. “You know I am not from your world. My true identity must be kept secret from the rest of your kind. So you must be removed.”

  “Adjusting my shape for your comfort and safety,” said the podule. Eddy felt the interior close around his legs and tilt him backwards, until he was seated and gripped tight.

  “What’s happening?” said Millie. “Is it a ride? Like at the fairground?”

  “Sort of,” said Eddy.

  “And for your information,” said the cat, “I am not Mr Furrytummysnugglepaws. How dare you insult me with that ridiculous name? I am Drax G’varglestarg, Ninth Level Agent of the Malvalian Pillaging Fleet. Now say goodbye – to all of this. You won’t be seeing it ever again.”

  “Preparing for take-off,” said the podule.

  “Listen to me. We don’t belong in here,” said Eddy. “We’re not your passengers.”

  “Correction,” said the podule. “My orders specify the transportation of two tubeoid natives of minor planet Cz492gamma.”