Eddy Stone and the Alien Cat Attack Page 4

  “And he always beats baddies,” added Millie.

  “And absolutely nothing can stop him,” said Eddy. “And I wish he was here. He’d get us out.”

  “Adding your answer to my central databank,” said Ethel. “And now you may have your food.”

  A trolley trundled into view through the trees. As it drew near, Eddy saw that it was loaded with a large golden-crusted pie. Henry pulled plates and cutlery from the trolley, cut three slices and handed them round.

  “I’m starving,” said Millie. “I want pie.”

  “This is the moment I look forward to every day,” said Henry. A filling of meaty chunks and rich dark gravy oozed across the plates. They each took a bite.

  “And every day I’m disappointed,” Henry said with his mouth full.

  “I don’t want pie,” said Millie, spitting it out. “Pie’s horrid.”

  Eddy chewed. It was an odd taste. It reminded him a bit of fish fingers. And Liquorice Allsorts. With a hint of toothpaste. And furniture polish.

  “Ethel’s very good at making it look right,” said Henry. “She’s seen pies in some of the films she has shown me. But I suppose the flavour is just guesswork. Still,” he added glumly, “at least this one tastes better than yesterday’s.”

  “You need to eat some pie,” Eddy said to Millie. “Keep your strength up.”

  “But it’s horrid,” said Millie.

  “It’s just a bit different,” said Eddy. He took a big mouthful. “Yum, yum,” he lied.

  He was hungry, he realized, as he swallowed. But then Ethel said something that made his appetite vanish.

  “Your exhibit listing has been updated,” said Ethel. “Here is the new version. Exhibit: three two-legged tubeoids from minor planet Cz492gamma. Assorted sizes. Population status on home planet – shortly to become extinct.”

  “Extinct?” said Eddy.

  “What stinked?” said Millie.

  “How can humans become extinct?” said Eddy. “Is this some kind of joke?”

  “Ethel doesn’t do jokes,” said Henry. “No sense of humour.”

  “What do you mean, extinct?” said Eddy.

  “Extinct,” said Ethel. “Meaning – all gone. Wiped out. None left. Ended. Dead. Finished. Over.”

  “I know that,” said Eddy. “What I want to know is how? And why? And come to that, when?”

  “When the pillaging fleet removes all the water from the planet,” said Ethel in a flat and emotionless voice.

  “You’re going to take all the water?” said Eddy in a voice that was not flat or emotionless at all.

  “No more water!” said Millie. “That means no more baths! No more getting rained on! Oh – but no more puddles to stamp in. No more water pistols. No more—”

  “No more anything,” said Eddy. “Nothing on Earth can live with no water.”

  “We’ve got to warn people back on Earth,” said Eddy.

  “Have you tried phoning them?” said Millie.

  “We’re on an alien ship in outer space,” said Eddy. “You can’t phone from outer space.”

  “I’m just being helpful,” said Millie. “And I bet you haven’t tried.”

  Can you phone people from outer space? thought Eddy. It sounds unlikely, but… He pulled his phone from his pocket and – no signal. No, of course you can’t phone people from outer space. It was a daft idea.

  He needed a great idea. And he needed it now. There was no time to lose. What if…? But nothing would come.

  “Henry,” he said. “You’re the grown-up round here. You should be making the decisions. What do you think we should do?”

  “Don’t ask me,” said Henry. “I haven’t had to decide what to do in all the years I’ve been here. Or when I was in the army. I was just a private. Did what the officers told me to. Why don’t we wait here and just see what happens?”

  “Because if we wait here, we’ll never find a way to warn Earth,” said Eddy. “We can’t just sit in this cage. We need to get out.”

  “We can’t,” said Henry. “And anyway, what’s the point? We’ll still be stuck on an alien spaceship. Where are we going to go to?”

  “I haven’t got as far as ‘to’,” said Eddy. “Just away. Away from this cage. It’s a first step. That’s got to be better than doing nothing. And then maybe we can find something that will be a second step.”

  “So how do you think we’re going to get out of the cage?” said Henry. “You saw what happens as soon as you cross the stream.”

  “I don’t know,” said Eddy. He still didn’t have any great ideas. Well, if he couldn’t think of any great ideas, maybe he would just have to try some not-so-great ones.

  “Ethel,” he said. “You are good with questions. So. How can we get out of here?”

  “That information is restricted to operatives ranked level seven and above,” said Ethel. “Ask a different question.”

  “What’s our level?” said Eddy. “How do we get to level seven?”

  “You are an exhibit,” said Ethel. “It is not possible for exhibits to reach any level. You are a zero. Ask a different question.”

  “This is no fun,” said Millie. “I want to play a game.”

  “I haven’t got time,” said Eddy.

  “You’re mean,” said Millie.

  “I’m busy,” said Eddy.

  “Why?”

  “Because,” said Eddy. “Look, Ethel wanted another question to answer. You ask her one. You have always got lots.”

  That should keep Millie occupied, he thought, while he tried to come up with a way to escape.

  “I do have lots,” said Millie. “Lots and lots. Ethel, why are ponies?”

  “Checking databanks,” said Ethel. “Pony. Four-legged tubeoid found on minor planet Cz492gamma. Feeds on apples and peppermints…”

  “What about the pie trolley?” Eddy said to Henry. “That gets in and out.”

  “No use,” said Henry, glumly. “I followed it once. Over the stream and poof! Disappeared into thin air.”

  “I know what are ponies,” said Millie. “I am four and three-quarters, thank you. I want to know why are ponies?”

  “Checking databanks,” said Ethel. “Life forms on minor planet Cz492gamma are believed to have developed from…”

  “Boring,” said Millie. “What is the best number?”

  “Checking databanks,” said Ethel. “Different numbers are considered lucky on different planets. For example, on Habathalor one is regarded as the only lucky number, because whenever two or more Habathalorians meet, the biggest eats the rest.”

  “I’ve got an idea,” Eddy said to Henry. “We’ve only tried to escape one at a time. If two of us go off in different directions, maybe it will be too difficult for the trees to move both ways at once.”

  “I don’t know,” said Henry. “It doesn’t sound very likely.”

  “Let’s try it,” said Eddy. “We can’t just give up.”

  “Giving up is a lot less tiring,” said Henry.

  “Blah blah,” said Millie. “I think seven is best, but my friend Sophie says three is nicer, but she’s just wrong, isn’t she?”

  “In many places, three is considered…”

  “…much worse than seven,” said Millie. “Who invented cabbage? And why did they bother?”

  “Let’s go,” said Eddy. He set off at a trot towards the trees. Henry began to stroll slowly off in the opposite direction. Eddy soon stepped across the stream. The trees retreated from him just like before.

  “Anything?” he shouted over his shoulder to Henry.

  “Hang on,” said Henry. “I’m not there yet.”

  “Checking databanks,” said Ethel. “I have no knowledge of cabbage.”

  “Lucky you,” said Millie. “I wish I didn’t. What is brown and sticky?”

  “Checking databanks,” said Ethel. “Listing all known brown objects in the universe, and all known sticky objects.”

  “I’m there now,” shouted Henry. “And the
trees are doing just the same as before. I told you it would be a waste of time.”

  “Well it was worth a try,” shouted Eddy.

  “It didn’t work,” shouted Henry. “So no, it wasn’t.”

  “Back to the middle,” said Eddy. “We need to think of something else.”

  “It’s a stick,” said Millie.

  “No,” said Ethel. “Stick does not appear in the databank list of objects that are sticky. List of known brown items complete. Number of entries approximately one trillion two hundred and twenty-six billion. List of known sticky items complete. Number of entries approximately three hundred and seventy-nine billion. Creating cross-reference grid to check for items which appear in both lists.”

  “It’s a stick!” Millie repeated. “Brown and stick-y.”

  “Number of grid spaces required is approximately four hundred and seventy sextillion,” said Ethel. “Cannot create grid. Insufficient computer memory available. Emptying temporary memory store. Ponies may be brown but not sticky. Peppermints may be sticky but not brown. Temporary memory emptied. Insufficient computer memory available. Diverting memory circuits from other systems.”

  “What is she talking about?” Millie asked Eddy, as he returned to the middle of the clearing.

  “She can’t work out the answer to your question,” said Eddie. “It’s too big. She’s saying that she has got to use bits of her brain that normally do other things.”

  “But it’s just a joke,” said Millie.

  “I told you,” said Henry. “She’s got no sense of humour. Wouldn’t know a joke if it crossed the road, walked up to her front door and shouted ‘knock, knock’.”

  “Diverting memory from environmental systems,” said Ethel. The light suddenly flickered and dimmed. “Diverting memory from communication systems. Diverty mimblery frump prejection symptoms,” said Ethel.

  “Prejection symptoms?” said Henry. “She’s talking rubbish.”

  “The words must be getting mangled because she’s shutting down her communication systems,” said Eddy.

  The trees began to shudder like the picture on a badly tuned television – just like the time Eddy’s dad had climbed up on the roof to adjust the aerial with a gentle tap in just the right place with a hammer, and brought down half the chimney stack.

  “And she’s turning off her projection systems – that’s what she was trying to say,” said Eddy. “Look – the trees are all just projections. She’s turning off the scenery.”

  The branches of all the trees suddenly vanished, leaving a forest of bare trunks.

  “I did not break her,” said Millie. “But what would happen if somebody did?”

  “It might just give us our chance to get out of here,” said Eddy.

  The tree trunks suddenly exploded into a shimmer of brown dots that tumbled through the air for a moment and then disappeared. Instead of trees, Eddy could now see the outline of the cage that they were in. It was a broad circle of tall metal rods that stretched up to a high ceiling. There were wide gaps between the rods, and in the gaps was what looked like – nothing. Nothing at all.

  “System overload,” said Ethel. “Sister mother load. Sit some other road.”

  A loud hum filled the air, like the swarming of ten million bees. And then a sudden silence. And the lights went out, plunging them into a deep blackness.

  “I don’t like it,” said Millie.

  “It will be okay,” said Eddy, taking her hand and squeezing it. He hoped he was right.

  “Ethel?” Henry’s voice came out of the dark. “Are you alright?”

  There was no answer. After a few seconds, the ceiling began to glow dimly, giving just enough light to see things nearby.

  “That must be an emergency backup,” said Eddy. “Let’s find out if we can get out of here.” He led the way across the stream, and took another step forward.

  He waited to see if the metal rods that marked the edge of the cage would move away from him, just like the trees had done. But everything stayed still. Whatever strange trick had stopped them escaping before, it was no longer working its magic. He led Millie and Henry forward and out through a gap between two of the metal rods.

  In the dim light from the ceiling they could just make out their surroundings. A huge open space stretched away around them, flat and grey and as big as ten football pitches. It was dotted with the shapes of more cages. The whole area was surrounded by dull metal walls, with dark doorways opening into them here and there. So this was the inside of an alien spaceship. Eddy had expected it to look exotic and exciting, but this was drab and dreary and about as exotic as an empty school playground on a wet Wednesday afternoon.

  “Let’s go,” said Eddy. “We’ll head for the wall over there and see if there’s anything useful through those doorways.”

  “I reckon we’ll need to be very, very lucky to get that far,” said Henry. “Have you got a plan?”

  “Yes,” said Eddy. “I’m planning to be very, very lucky. Let’s start by being careful. There are more zoo cages all around us – and whatever creatures were in them before, they’re all on the loose now.”

  They didn’t notice it creeping up behind them. One moment they had almost reached the grey metal wall that they were heading for, moving stealthily in the dim light. The next moment there was a pittering pattering sound at their backs, and when they turned – there it was.

  It was red and yellow, somewhere between a giant prawn and the biggest cockroach you could never wish to meet, with a leg at each corner of its body and six in the middle for good measure. As it scuttled towards them it reared up on its back legs. Now it was as tall as Millie. Long antennae waved in the air as its eyes swivelled on each side of its head. A head from which a pair of saw-toothed pincers stuck out. Pincers that were coming closer and closer.

  Eddy started to shout, but his voice caught in his throat and came out in a strangled squawk like a sneezing budgie.

  Henry managed to mutter a quiet, “Oh, great.”

  Millie’s voice did better. A lot better. She let out a shriek that stopped the thing dead in its tracks. It began to rub its pincers together, making a sound like someone dropping marbles into a tin bucket.

  Millie shrieked again.

  The thing put its front legs to its chest and fiddled with a small metal device. A green light flashed on and the noise of the pincers was replaced by a voice: “That’s a heck of a way to say hello, dollface. You’re making my head rattle.”

  Millie stopped shrieking.

  “Now that’s better,” said the thing. “So, what’s with the squealing, huh?”

  “It’s because you surprised us,” said Eddy.

  “And because you are scaly and scary and horrid,” added Millie.

  “Yeah? Well, where I come from we tell stories about soft squidgy creatures like you to frighten the kids. But you shouldn’t be scared of me. In fact, I’d bet that I’m the only friend you’ve got in this place. Here’s how I look at things.” He stuck his eyes out on stalks and swivelled them wildly in opposite directions. “Heh! You like that? Just a little something I do to break the ice. The name’s Thursday by the way. Thursday Cornflake.”

  “That’s a silly name,” said Millie.

  “Is it? I have no idea. It’s this TalkTheTalk translator.” He tapped the metal device on his front.

  “You have a translator?” said Eddy.

  “What? You think everyone in the universe makes the same moo-mah noises as you? Normally the central control computer translates for everybody all over the ship at once, but it must be out of action right now.”

  “It did break,” said Millie. “But I did not break it.”

  “I carry this little box because I often have conversations in secret places that I don’t want the computer to know about,” said Thursday. “The TalkTheTalk speaks over thirty thousand languages like a native, and replaces strange and difficult names with familiar, fun and friendly words to provide a comforting experience for the list
ener. That’s what it said on the box, anyways. My real name is –” he turned off the green light on the TalkTheTalk, rubbed his pincers together to make a noise like someone sawing through a metal pipe, and then turned the translator on again – “but I reckon you ain’t got much chance of getting a sound like that out of that hole in the front of your face. So it’s Thursday Cornflake to you, okay?”

  “We’re Eddy, Millie and Henry,” said Eddy.

  “And I guess you just broke out of one of the cages, right? Well – uh-oh…” Thursday broke off. “You hear that?” From somewhere nowhere near far enough away came the thump of galumphing footsteps and a deep snuffling snorting sound, like someone sucking the last drops of a milkshake up through a straw. “Unfortunately, that must also have just broken out.”

  “What is it?” said Eddy.

  “I only know one thing that makes a noise like that. And that thing,” said Thursday in a serious tone of voice, “is a Fluffy Wuffy Cushion Bunny.”

  “A what?” said Eddy.

  Millie giggled.

  “And – let me guess. My TalkTheTalk has just translated that name into something familiar, fun and friendly, hasn’t it?” said Thursday.

  “And cuddly,” said Millie.

  “Cuddly – no,” said Thursday. “Big, stupid, clumsy – yes. Dangerous – definitely. And not something you want to meet. So I strongly suggest that we walk through that big open doorway in the wall over there –” he pointed with one of his middle legs – “and hide inside until it has gone away. And that we do it right now.”

  “Hang on,” said Henry. “You want us to go in there with you when we’ve only just met? Have you never seen any scary movies?”

  “You gotta make a choice,” said Thursday. “Hide with your new friend, or stay here and meet that.” The grunting snuffling snort got louder and nearer. “I understand that it’s a tough choice. Unless, of course, you use whatever brain you have in those heads and think about it. I’m out of here. You decide.” He ducked through the doorway.

  The snuffling snort was sounding very close.

  “I’m out of here, too,” said Eddy. “Come on.” He tugged on Millie’s hand, and the three humans followed Thursday.