Eddy Stone and the Alien Cat Attack Read online

  “So change the orders,” said Eddy.

  “My orders have a level nine authority. Checking your authority level. Your level is – zero. Orders remain in place. Please relax now and enjoy your journey.”

  “We’re about to be sent to goodness knows where. How can I relax?” asked Eddy.

  “Your brain scan indicates several ways to relax you,” said the podule. “A calming colour…”

  The podule’s interior washed over with a soft pale blue.

  “That wasn’t what I meant,” said Eddy.

  “…soothing sound…”

  Gentle violin music drifted through the interior.

  “…friendly fragrance…”

  The smell of warm cake hit his nostrils.

  “…and a good dose of this sleeping gas…”

  A wisp of yellow mist floated through the air.

  “No!” said Eddy. “Wait!”

  “Stop making such a fuss,” the cat’s voice sounded in Eddy’s head. “Think of it as me doing you a favour. If you aren’t here, you will be safe.”

  “Safe from what?” said Eddy, looking out of the podule window. The cat was sitting on top of the communications interface. “What are you going to do?”

  Drax said nothing, but raised a front paw and waved up at the podule.

  And then overbalanced.

  “I hate this new body. It needs more legs,” he said.

  The podule suddenly shot into the air at tremendous speed. The Earth shrank to a tiny speck as the sky blurred from blue to black.

  Eddy felt dizzy and dopey, as if his head had gone into orbit round the rest of his body. Everything outside was whizzing past in a woozy whoosh. Not that everything outside amounted to much. All around them was the great empty nothingness of outer space.

  “It’s boring,” said Millie. Her voice was sleepy and slurred. “Can we go home now?”

  “I don’t think so,” said Eddy. He didn’t know what else to say.

  “You’ll look after me where we are going,” said Millie, “won’t you?”

  “Of course,” said Eddy. He couldn’t quite manage to sound calm.

  How far they travelled, how long or how fast, Eddy couldn’t tell. He was struggling to stay awake as the sleeping gas took hold of him. There was nothing to see out of the podule window except thousands of distant stars.

  Then suddenly out of the nothing ahead came a something, a dot that grew like a ball that had been hurled towards them, but was already too big to be a ball and getting bigger still, until it became a vast planet, striped and swirled with a cloak of grey and rust-brown clouds. Eddy thought he had seen pictures of it before, but the name refused to come into his giddy head.

  The podule hurtled on, and behind the planet he saw a line of – what were they? Moons? He tried to see straight, to think straight, as the podule rushed onwards. No – not moons. Spacecraft. Spacecraft bigger than cities. The podule was heading directly for the nearest one, right into a massive hole in its side that opened up to swallow them with as little fuss as a great whale gulping a microscopic shrimp. And as the podule disappeared into the innards of the spacecraft, the gas took hold and Eddy drifted into a deep sleep.

  Drax G’varglestarg watched the podule disappear into the sky with its passengers. How easy it had been to trick the two Earth creatures and get rid of them. And now the Grand Control ship would be expecting his first mission report. He wasn’t going to tell Grand Control about needing to repair the communications interface. Or about the mistake he had made when he had absent-mindedly sat on his food last night. Or the way he had overloaded his new digestive system. Grand Control didn’t like to hear about problems – even after they had been solved. Grand Control wanted to be told that the mission was going to plan. Precisely to plan – no hitches, no glitches.

  But he would have to mention the podule’s disguise. It hadn’t blended in to its surroundings at all. The mission briefing had said that the woods on this planet would be full of pixies and their toadstool houses, but there was no sign here of either. They would have to reprogram the shield. It would need a better disguise when they sent the podule back to pick him up after his mission was over.

  He directed his thoughts into the communications interface.

  “Agent Ginger Tom” (he was very careful not to pass on his thoughts about what a stupid code-name that was) “reporting to Malvalian Grand Control.

  “I have successfully made a safe landing at the correct location on the target planet. The communications interface is operative and I will soon activate the mind-control program. I have adjusted to my new body.

  “I must respectfully report that there is no evidence of pixie activity in this area, and request that you review the chosen disguise for the podule. The giant toadstool is not effective.

  “I require further data. I have twice been asked to identify an individual known as ‘Clever Boy’. I cannot find the answer in the mission briefing. Please advise.

  “I have sent the podule back to you with two tubeoids for further study.

  “Report ends.”

  He wasn’t going to tell them that the two tubeoids in the podule knew that he was an alien, and up to something. That wasn’t part of the mission plan. Anyway, if everything went smoothly, before Grand Control found that out, his work on this little wet planet would be finished. And so would the little wet planet.

  Eddy slept.

  Strange visions swam through his head. He was floating through warm clammy air that tingled on his skin. Creatures surrounded him and peered at him curiously and poked and prodded at his limbs and gabbled about how tall he was and how much he weighed. It was just like meeting all his aunties at Christmas – except that his aunties weren’t bright orange and their eyes didn’t wave around on the end of long stalks, and when they prodded him it was with fingers with brightly varnished nails and not with twisted tentacles. And they didn’t drip sticky slime – well, apart from Great Aunt Valerie and she didn’t get invited round much any more.

  And then there was brightness.

  And a sour smell in his nose – like when Uncle Ken had put his socks in the oven to dry.

  And something prodding him in the ribs.

  And a voice.

  “Who are you?”

  “I’m trying to remember,” Eddy mumbled in reply.

  Uurggh. Eddy’s head felt like someone had filled it with concrete. What had happened? He couldn’t think. He forced his eyes open. There was green. A lot of green. But all blurred – like looking through someone else’s spectacles.

  The green began to float into focus. Leaves. Bushes. He was in a wide clearing with a circle of trees around it. It looked like the woods back home. Maybe that was where they were?

  And then he saw the set of traffic lights, plonked down between two bushes. He didn’t remember them being in the woods. Or the purple sofa nearby. Or the grand piano. Or the little girl with tousled hair who was sitting up next to him.

  Hang on – he did remember her. Millie! That’s right, he had been with Millie. It was coming back to him now. There was a cat who wasn’t a cat. And a journey through the sky. And a – oh, no.

  “Are we on a spaceship?” he said.

  “Afraid so.” The voice came from behind him. A flat, hoarse voice. This must belong to the man who had prodded him in the ribs. Eddy turned and saw a figure with a wrinkled face, grey hair, and a long untidy beard. He was wearing tattered dark green trousers and a matching shirt. A uniform of some sort, Eddy thought.

  Or what was left of it.

  “Henry Handysides,” said the man. “Private. 6060842.” He held out his hand.

  “Millie Stone,” said Millie. “Four and three-quarters.”

  “And I’m her cousin Eddy,” said Eddy. “Are you a soldier?”

  “Army cook,” said Henry. “Best pastry in the regiment. I was known for it. Till I pulled guard duty on the wrong night. Just my flipping luck. ‘Handysides,’ says the Sergeant, ‘lights have been se
en in the woods where they didn’t ought to be. Off you trot, and see what’s what.’ Next thing I know, some creature with orange tentacles is dragging me into his spacecraft, and I wake up here in the middle of all these trees. I never did like trees. Not even normal ones that stay still.”

  Eddy let the last remark go. He was already trying to take in enough new information without worrying about how trees might move.

  “This is nothing like how I imagined the inside of a spaceship would be,” Eddy said.

  “Rubbish, isn’t it?” said Henry. “Look at this. Green carpet everywhere instead of grass. Bits of furniture but no rooms. I think it’s supposed to be just like our natural habitat.”

  “What do you mean?” said Eddy.

  “It’s sort of a zoo,” said Henry.

  “Ooh!” said Millie. “I like zoos. Are there hippotomopus…hoppotoppomus…hottopipamus…ephelants?”

  “What are we doing at a zoo?” said Eddy.

  “Not at,” said Henry, gloomily. “In.”

  “In?” said Eddy.

  “You’ll see,” said Henry. “Play my information, please, Ethel.”

  “And who is Ethel?” said Eddy.

  “It’s the name I gave the voice that talks to me – it belongs to the computer that does everything round here. It stands for Extra Terrestrial – oh, I can’t remember the rest. I’m sure it meant something when I thought it up, but now she’s just Ethel.”

  “Exhibit.” Ethel’s voice was brisk and bright. “A two-legged tubeoid from minor planet—”

  “What is a tubeoid?” Eddy asked.

  “Don’t interrupt,” Ethel interrupted.

  “But I don’t understand,” Eddy interrupted back. “And this is supposed to be information, isn’t it?”

  “Oh, very well,” said Ethel. “A tubeoid is a primitive creature that digests its food in a tube that runs through its body. Food is inserted at one end, and the waste comes out of the other.”

  “And how else are you supposed to eat?” said Eddy.

  “Like properly evolved creatures do, of course,” said Ethel. “Spray your food with digestive juices while it is outside your body, suck up the goodness, and leave the disgusting mess that is left over where it belongs. Malvalians, for example, have juice tubes in their lower bodies, and sit on their meals to eat.”

  “That’s what the cat did,” said Millie.

  “To continue,” said Ethel. “Exhibit: a two-legged tubeoid from minor planet Cz492gamma. Population on home planet – large and increasing.”

  “And that’s me,” said Henry, sadly. “A two-legged tubeoid. Course they’ll have to change that to say three two-legged tubeoids, now we’re all together in this cage.”

  “What cage?” said Eddy. “I can’t see a cage. No bars or fences. Just a clearing with trees all around it.”

  “They don’t need bars,” said Henry. “It’s much cleverer than that. You see that stream over there? Just in front of where the trees begin?”

  “Yes,” said Eddy. The bank of the stream was clearly visible beyond the traffic lights.

  “That stream goes round this clearing in a big circle. Like no stream I’ve ever seen before. Round and round, day after day, never getting anywhere. I know just how it feels…” He let out a long sigh, like a punctured football.

  “And?” said Eddy.

  “Just you take a step across it,” said Henry. “You’ll see.”

  “Okay,” said Eddy. “Millie – you’d better stick with me.” He waved at Henry. “See you later.”

  “It won’t be much later,” said Henry. “Don’t get your hopes up.”

  Millie took hold of Eddy’s hand. They walked together to the edge of the stream.

  “I’m going to cross it now,” said Eddy, “and find out what happens. You stay here.”

  “Why?” said Millie.

  “Because I have to look after you. I want whatever happens to happen to me first.” He dangled his right foot over the water. “Here goes.” And he planted it down on the far bank.

  “Go back to your place and stop being naughty!” It was Ethel.

  “She sounds cross,” said Millie.

  “If that’s what happens, it’s not so bad,” said Eddy. He lifted his left foot and stepped over the stream.

  “If you don’t go back, you won’t get any pie!”

  “That’s quite bad,” said Millie. “I’m hungry. I do want pie.”

  “Never mind that,” said Eddy. “I’m going to see what’s on the other side of those trees.”

  The treeline was just a few steps ahead of him now. He took a pace forward and – uuurgh. His head again. The trees seemed to swirl in front of him. Something must be wrong with his eyes. He blinked hard.

  “Why did the trees do that?” asked Millie.

  “Do what?” said Eddy.

  “Move,” said Millie. “Didn’t you see?”

  “I thought it was just in my head,” said Eddy.

  He took three steps forward. She was right. The trees definitely moved away from him.

  What on Earth? thought Eddy. Or rather, what not on Earth any more?

  He broke into a trot.

  The trees speeded up.

  He swerved to the right.

  The trees followed.

  He twisted. He turned. He made sudden stops and starts and spurts of speed.

  Whatever he did, the trees moved to be exactly the same distance away from him.

  He took a deep breath and ran at them, legs pumping.

  The trees flowed away, as if he was chasing a wave down a beach.

  “See what I mean?” said Henry. “Waste of time. You’ll never reach them.”

  Eddy turned round. Henry was just a few paces behind him, standing by the stream. For all his effort, Eddy hadn’t moved from its bank.

  “I don’t understand,” said Eddy. “I was running. How can you run but not go anywhere?”

  “Beats me,” said Henry. “That’s just how it is on that side of the stream. It’s like the space stretches when you try to move into it.”

  “But we’ve got to get out of here,” said Eddy. “There’s an alien cat back on Earth who is going to do something bad, and we’re the only ones who know about it.”

  “Good luck with that one,” said Henry, with all the enthusiasm of a damp flannel. “I gave up trying to get out ages ago.”

  “How long have you been stuck in here?” said Eddy.

  “I don’t know,” said Henry. “I lost count after the first three years. And that was ages ago. As you can see.” He tugged at his long beard. “You had better get used to it. You’re going to be here for the rest of your lives.”

  “Stuck here for the rest of our lives?” said Millie. “But that’s after Christmas.” Her bottom lip began to wobble. “We’ve got to be home for Christmas.”

  “I’m not going to give up trying to get out of here,” said Eddy. “I promise.” He stepped back across the stream to join the other two.

  “That’s better,” said Ethel. “Don’t let me catch you doing that again.”

  “Come on,” said Henry, leading the way back to the centre of the clearing. “The pie will be here soon.”

  “Naughty boys don’t get pie until they have earned it,” said Ethel. “I’ve got some questions for you to answer.”

  “She’s ever so bossy,” said Millie.

  A large black and white picture appeared in the air. The words Gerald The Pixie floated in front of a massive toadstool, its broad stem almost white, its cap a smoky grey speckled with large round dots of a darker grey. Jolly music struck up as a door in the toadstool’s stalk opened and a figure stepped out. He had a tall cap, and long ears, and a pair of pointed shoes with rows of bells that jingled and jangled with every step. The figure broke into an annoyingly jaunty song.

  “I’ve seen that toadstool before,” said Eddy. “It’s the disguise that the podule used.”

  “And I’ve seen this story before,” said Henry. “Gerald
thinks he has lost one of his socks. Looks everywhere for it. Until he realizes that he’s put two socks on one foot by mistake. Load of rubbish.”

  “And now you’ve spoiled the ending,” said Millie.

  “Question,” said Ethel. “When we showed you this information transmission before, you told us that this pixie is a common Earth creature in his house in a typical forest. Our Earth-landing site is in a typical forest, but there have been no observations of similar houses or creatures. Explain.”

  “That’s silly,” said Millie. “Everyone knows that pixies aren’t rea—MPPPPHH!” Henry clapped his hand across her mouth.

  “Really around at this time of year,” said Henry. “If it’s nearly Christmas, it’s the middle of winter. The toadstools don’t grow in winter, so the pixies live underground in burrows. Mostly asleep.”

  “Adding your answer to my central databank,” said Ethel.

  “Ow!” answered Henry, as Millie dug her teeth into his hand.

  “What are you talking about?” said Eddy.

  “One thing I Iearned in the army,” whispered Henry, “is that you don’t give information to the enemy. And anything with orange tentacles that drags me into outer space is definitely the enemy. So they’ve shown me lots of things off TV and asked me lots of questions about them, and I’ve told them lots of lies. I’ve said that everything is real – that’s why they think all TV programmes are information transmissions. And that adverts give us orders about what to do.”

  “So that’s why the cat thought we had to feed him every time there was a cat-food advert on TV,” said Eddy.

  “Stop that whispering,” said Ethel. “Databank updated. We have intercepted a new information transmission. Watch and explain.”

  This time the pictures were in colour. And the theme song was one that Eddy and Millie recognized immediately – a blare of brass, beats and barking that announced the arrival of HERO HOUND.

  “It’s a dog,” said Henry. “And um…” He hesitated. He hadn’t seen the programme before and had no idea what would be coming up.

  “And he has amazing superpowers,” said Eddy.