‘I don’t . . . I don’t understand. Why are you telling us this? Why do you want to help us? We’re human, you’re an . . . an . . . alien . . .’
After a gap for the words to be translated into smells, Plymm answered: ‘Thlugg eat Vice-Admiral Jlatt. Jlatt my . . . what you call by name boyfriend. I hate now. Want to harm. Also I believe Borgia must find new way to live, not always kill kill eat eat. Other like me on home planet. Help our cause if no more warmonger like Thlugg. Also cute I think humans. Like furry top area to stroke . . .’
Then Plymm stretched out a sinuous, protoplasmic arm towards The Hurricane. As it travelled, it became more human-like, growing long fingers. These long fingers then caressed and ruffled The Hurricane’s greasy hair, making him blush so deeply that his zits were briefly camouflaged.
‘Get a room,’ said Really Annoying Girl.
Alexander felt an irrational spurt of hope. Was there really a chance? A chance for them, a chance for humanity?
Almost without thinking, he pulled Einstein’s pants down over his ears.
‘So what do we do?’ he said. ‘Just wait here to see what happens?’
‘No. Must help to make Thlugg fail. We destroy energy shield generators. Wait till last small time before bang. Then Thlugg nothing he can do. Then Thlugg die.’
‘How do we know we can trust you?’
‘Alternative yours is?’
There was a silence. Of course none of them had an alternative. Their backs were against the wall. A wall made of deadly spikes. With poisoned tips. And dynamite.
‘Have I got this straight?’ said Titch. ‘If this plan works, then we get blown to bits along with these monsters. And if it fails, we get eaten?’
‘Big pain first. Then eaten,’ corrected Plymm.
‘Great.’
‘But if it works, at least our families and all the other people will be safe,’ said Felicity.
‘Is other small chance,’ said Plymm. ‘After disable energy shield, we make move fast to escape pods. Probably not make it, but little chance worth big try.’
‘Good enough for me,’ said Alexander. ‘What do you think, Jamie?’
Jamie nodded. ‘We get ’em.’
‘Right, that’s it then. A chance is a chance, no matter how slim.’
CHAPTER 42
TOOLING UP
‘EXCUSE ME,’ SAID Titch. ‘In case you’ve forgotten, you’re not our leader any more. We’ve already worked out that you are a fraud and a liar. So you don’t get to decide what we do or don’t do.’
‘Just a second, Titch,’ said Tortoise Boy. ‘This sounds like a chance to get back at these creeps. Unless, like that girl monster says, you’ve got a better idea . . . ?’
‘Well, er, no. And I’m not saying that we shouldn’t do it, just that it’s not up to this doofus and his crazy underpants.’
‘Well, let’s vote, then,’ said Felicity. ‘All in favour say yes.’
Everyone said yes except for Really Annoying Girl, who said, ‘I knew you was gonna say that.’ But then even she said yes as well.
‘Good, it’s decided,’ said Alexander. ‘One more thing though, Plymm: how are we going to make it to the shield generators? This ship is swarming with Borgia.’
‘We fight.’
‘But how? We don’t have any weapons . . .’ said Felicity.
‘You have these,’ said Plymm, and regurgitated the toy ray guns that Jamie, Alexander and The Hurricane had used before. ‘I have modified them so that their output is more deadly for Borgia. But rubbish Earth batteries nearly extinguish and Borgia do not use AA battery size, but AAAs. So must use carefully. Two, maybe three shots each.’
‘That’ll never be enough,’ said Melvyn.
‘I’ve got another idea,’ said Alexander.
‘It’s your ideas that got us here in the first place,’ said Titch.
‘Let’s hear it anyway,’ said Felicity.
‘Thanks. We’ve all seen what happened to that Borgia drone that had Cedric inside it.’
‘Yeah,’ said Jamie. ‘Melted all yucky. Like when I kept a sausage under my bed for a midnight feast, then forgot till next year.’
‘Exactly, Jamie. That can only mean one thing – tortoises are poisonous to the Borgia. And the drones have a greatly reduced metabolism, so we can expect the tortoise toxin to act much more quickly on the proper Borgia.’
Metabolism? Alexander didn’t realize he even knew that word. The pants were really on fire.
Tortoise Boy began to grin. ‘So what do I do? Just sort of smash them with Cedric?’
‘That’s it. If you can break through the outer coating and get Cedric to the pulp, you’ll disable them straight away.’
‘Why don’t we test it on this one?’ said Titch.
‘No,’ said Alexander. ‘We’re allies, and the FREAKs know how to stick by their friends.’
‘Still,’ said Melvyn thoughtfully, ‘a couple of one-shot guns, plus TB whacking these things with Cedric . . . well, it’s not very much to put up against the mightiest and evilest beings in the galaxy, is it?’
‘You’re right, Mel. But it’s not all we’ve got—’
‘If this is going to be some speech about having each other, and that making us invincible, then I’m going to be sick,’ said Titch. ‘Because it hasn’t exactly worked so far, has it?’
‘Well,’ said Alexander, ‘we do have each other, and together we are invincible. But I know something that makes us, er, invincibler.’
‘What?’ said several intrigued voices.
‘Before you lot got puked, they tortured me using smells—’
‘Gross,’ said Really Annoying Girl.
‘Yes, it was. But I learned something. The Borgia can’t take a certain smell – I was listening to the translations that came through that machine when they were talking to each other.’
‘What was the smell?’ asked The Hurricane, suddenly very interested.
Alexander looked him in the eye. ‘Eggy fart, hint of cabbage.’
The Hurricane smiled. ‘I can manage that.’
‘And I’ve got this,’ said Really Annoying Girl, holding up her heavy-duty bag with its deadly jewel encrustations. ‘Them fings is gonna pay for messin’ wiv my shoes.’
And then, unexpectedly, Titch added: ‘And I’ve got these.’
He pulled the set of lethal steel playing cards out of his sleeve.
Alexander looked thoughtfully at the glinting cards. ‘I don’t think they’ll have much impact on their own . . .’
Then, once again, he felt the tingle from the pants. He had a vision. No longer was he in the bowels of the Borgia flagship – now he was deep in the Amazonian rainforest. Indian hunters were gathered round a fire. One of them held a tiny, vividly coloured tree frog. His strong fingers gently squeezed the frog. A milky substance oozed from pores in its skin. The other hunters dipped the tips of their blow-pipe darts in the liquid.
Alexander snapped out of his trance. ‘We need to get some, erm, juice out of Cedric,’ he exclaimed. ‘Then you can dip your darts – I mean, cards in it, Titch.’
‘What, you want to squeeze him out like a lemon?’ said Tortoise Boy, backing away. ‘No one’s getting any juice out of my Cedric!’
‘Yuck!’ said Really Annoying Girl. ‘He’s pooped on you.’
Cedric had left a dollop of green-brown poo on Tortoise Boy’s trousers. The timing was perfect.
‘That’s it – exactly what we need. Titch, smear some of that stuff on your cards.’
‘Gross. Must I?’
‘You’ve seen what tortoise venom does to those things. It’ll turn your cards into lethal poison darts.’
‘Well, put that way . . . Maybe those pants are working after all. I don’t think you could have come up with an idea like that without them.’
A minute later and they were ready to go.
Alexander took one of the ray guns for himself, and gave the other two to Melvyn and Felicity. It meant that eac
h of them had something to fight with, except for Jamie. But then Jamie had his superstrength, and he no more needed weapons than did the Incredible Hulk.
Alexander was proud of them all.
‘OK, Plymm,’ he said, turning to their Borgia ally. ‘Lead on.’
CHAPTER 43
THE BATTLE FOR THE FUTURE OF HUMANITY
PLYMM VENTED INTO a control panel, and the door opened. The FREAKs spilled out into the corridor. As they emerged, two hulking Borgia sentinels glooped towards them from either side, thinking it was their lucky day: a chance to dine on some tasty humans with the excuse that they were just trying to prevent an escape.
‘Now!’ yelled Alexander, and Tortoise Boy, Really Annoying Girl and The Hurricane went to work.
Tortoise Boy rent the air with a piercing scream, and smashed Cedric down onto what would have been the first Borgia’s skull, if the Borgia had bones. (Cedric, seeing what was coming, had retreated safely inside his shell.) The blow broke through the skin of the sentinel, causing instant paralysis and rapid liquefaction. Within seconds, the creature was reduced to a spreading puddle of gunk.
While that was happening, there was more action on the other side. First Really Annoying Girl gave a vicious right and left swipe combination, then it was The Hurricane’s turn. This was no time for fancy manoeuvres, no time for showboating. The Hurricane just did a basic half-turn-and-leg-raise – the sort of move they’d teach you on your very first day at farting school, if there were such a thing – and then blasted the advancing Borgia with a sound like a moose coughing.
The effect was immediate, and most gratifying. The creature fell to the floor and writhed around like a breakdancing bogey. It foamed and frothed, and emitted gusts of yellow gas that even the humans could sense as cries of anguish and terror.
Luckily The Hurricane had directed almost all the fart’s energy forwards, but, even so, there was inevitably some blow-back. There was just a hint of the sort of smell you’d get when walking past a mad old lady’s bungalow on a hot day. It didn’t bother the FREAKs, but it was enough to send Plymm reeling back against the softly undulating wall.
It was then that Alexander noticed something odd about the alien. She was definitely less blobby than she had been when he first saw her. There were distinct indentations and subtle curves. The long arm she had stretched out to The Hurricane hadn’t retracted fully into her body, and it was balanced by another, budding from her left side. There even seemed to be a groove forming down her lower half, as if legs were gradually beginning to separate.
But there was no time now to speculate about this latest curious development.
Alexander held out a hand to steady the alien. Her flesh felt almost pleasant to the touch; not clammy and cold like the other Borgia, but cool and dry.
‘Which way?’ he said. And then he realized something. Without the translation device, they could not communicate.
‘Let me try,’ said The Hurricane. ‘I think – and I know this sounds crazy – I think I can understand her. And speak a little of their language.’
‘How the . . . ?’
‘I don’t know. I must have picked it up . . . something to do with my special ability.’
‘Fine, well, ask her to lead the way.’
The Hurricane delicately burped at Plymm. Plymm shuddered with delight, and vented back. The Hurricane sniffed the air and smiled a little half-smile. Then Plymm began to glide down the corridor, wiggling her newly moulded hips as she went.
‘Game on,’ said The Hurricane.
‘I knew you was gonna say that,’ said Really Annoying Girl, but in a less strident voice than usual.
As Alexander was stepping over the body of the fart-blasted Borgia, he saw it twitch. He thought it was going to make a grab for him and he automatically shrank away. But the Borgia wasn’t after him. It squirted a weak stream of gas towards a control panel. Instantly the whole corridor began to throb, and the Borgia alarm smell filled the space. It was the smell of a cat thrown onto a fire.
‘Move, move, move!’ yelled Alexander, and they sped down the corridor.
It wasn’t long before they hit more trouble. A squad of Borgia troopers were waiting round one of the bends. They were armed with plasma cannon, and shots ricocheted off the walls and ceiling.
Alexander looked expectantly at The Hurricane.
He shook his head. ‘Out of range. And they’ll fry me before I get close enough.’
‘TB won’t make it either,’ said Alexander. ‘We’ll just have to use the ray guns.’
‘Don’t forget me and these babies,’ said Titch, holding up his Death Cards.
Alexander smiled at him, and they held each other’s gaze for a couple of seconds. Their argument was over. They were a team. They were the FREAKs.
‘OK, guys, get ready. Select your targets carefully. And remember, the guns are only going to stun them. We’ll have to go in and finish the job by hand. Right – one, two, three—’
But the eager FREAKs couldn’t wait, and the ‘three’ was drowned out by the cacophonous blaring of the toy guns. More silent, but also more deadly, were the razor-sharp, poisoned Death Cards, which flew like hell’s frisbees to their targets.
‘They’re down!’ yelled Tortoise Boy, already charging towards the creatures. He was closely followed by Jamie and Really Annoying Girl.
‘AAAAAAARRRRRRGGGGGGHHHHHHH!’ screamed Tortoise Boy.
‘SSSSUUUUUPPPPEEERRRRSSSSTTTTTRRRRROONNNNGGGGG!’ bellowed Jamie.
‘I KNEW YOU WAS GONNA SAY THAT,’ yelled Really Annoying Girl, although no one knew who on earth she was talking to.
Together they tore into the already crippled Borgia. Cedric pulped them, Jamie walloped them, Really Annoying Girl whacked them, and by the time the others arrived, the Borgia were just stains.
Plymm vented gas. It smelled minty, with undertones of leaf mould and Chinese takeaway. The Hurricane sniffed, and translated.
‘The shield generators are this way.’
CHAPTER 44
AND ADMIRAL THLUGG . . . ?
BACK ON THE command deck, Admiral Thlugg had other things on his mind. Well, one rather big thing, actually.
The approach of Asteroid c4098 was most inconvenient. He knew what his enemies and political opponents back on the homeworld would say. They’d whisper that he had been negligent. That he should have known of this wandering celestial body and intercepted it long before. They would say that he had lost a great harvest of delicious snacks.
And of course it would all be a gift to those pesky pinko vegetarian types, who would, if they got their way, have the fearsome Borgia warriors live on a diet of algae and roots.
Well, he would show them, show them all, that there was life in old Thlugg yet.
Which was why he was about to play a game of space hockey, with the asteroid as the puck and his own flagship as the stick.
Risky.
But then the great Borgia Empire had been forged through risk-taking.
It required his full attention. When the news reached him that the prisoners had escaped, he literally bit the head (or rather dorsal half) off the unfortunate Borgia who had brought it. He then issued an order for the fugitives’ recapture, with the strict instruction that he wanted to hear nothing further about this until the ship’s tricky manoeuvre was completed.
He had to align his vessel at a precise angle to the oncoming asteroid. Get the angle wrong and he’d lose the ship as well as the Earth, with all its succulent goodness.
So even as fine a mind as Thlugg’s, backed up by the most powerful computers in the universe, found itself fully occupied, for now.
CHAPTER 45
A CHEMISTRY LESSON
THE FREAKS WERE lurking near the main entrance to the shield generator room. There were twenty burly, heavily armed Borgia on guard. Toy guns and metal playing cards and fierce tortoises wouldn’t do the job. There was no way through.
The Hurricane was translating Plymm’s smells in hushed tones
: ‘She says there’s a ventilation shaft that will take us right inside the room. We can give the shield generators a serious mashing from there. Then we make a dash for the escape pods, and pray this all works.’
The opening to the ventilation shaft was a rubbery flap, like something you’d find in a dissected pig’s heart. It was just wide enough for them to squeeze through. Then they had to wriggle like worms along the glistening intestinal tubing. It really wasn’t at all nice in there. The foulest of foul gases wafted over them as they crawled, adding to that feeling that they were in the lower reaches of some great beast’s bowels.
Alexander was in the middle of the crawling line of kids, his view restricted to Felicity’s bottom. Not that he was looking. Jamie, Titch, Melvyn and Really Annoying Girl jostled behind him, while Tortoise Boy, The Hurricane and Plymm were ahead of Felicity. The thinking was to get their heavy hitters – Tortoise Boy and The Hurricane – up at the front for when they dropped down into the shield generator room.
Suddenly Alexander became aware of a commotion from the back of the line.
‘Monsters coming!’ Jamie yelled, panic in his voice.
‘Attacked from the rear – sneaky alien swine!’ snarled Titch.
‘I knew you was gonna snarl that,’ said Really Annoying Girl.
‘Slow them down, Titch,’ Alexander cried, looking back over his shoulder. ‘What have you got?’
‘All out of Death Cards. Nothing else, just rubbish: a rubber chicken, fake rabbit . . . No, wait, there’s the flash-bombs I use when I want to disappear. You know – big flash, lots of smoke, and I go hide. That might confuse them for a while.’
Alexander now saw the first of the pursuing Borgia. It was moving swiftly through the narrow passage, squirming along like a finger in a nostril.
‘Do it.’
Titch dug around in his pocket and found three of the flash-bombs – tiny parcels of gunpowder, designed to go off with a bang on contact. He hurled them back along the tunnel, shouting out, ‘SHAZAM!’ as he did so.
What happened next was surprising to anyone who did not know that the venting gases of the Borgia were about seventy per cent methane, with smaller amounts of hydrogen, hydrogen sulphide and carbon monoxide.
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