The Greenwich Interplanetary Society
Page 20
***
The next morning, Stella’s arms were still sore from the Gravo-waxing, but she made her way up to Dodds’s cabin. Knocking on the door, she waited until she heard him say, “Come in.”
The cabin was dimly lit by a small lantern standing on a desk. The pool of light illuminated a jumble of scientific-looking instruments scattered around the hunched figure of Doctor Dodds. He was placing a disc onto the turntable of a Bee-Communicator. Stella noticed a lingering trace of an URGENT sign flashing above the funnel and guessed he was viewing the b-mail that Gladys had stopped her seeing.
Persiminon hung upside down from a hook beside the door, clinging onto her umbrella handle. She yawned a sleepy, “Hello,” to Stella.
“Hello, Persiminon,” Stella said politely and gave the soft underside of Persiminon’s chin a tickle.
Persiminon started to purr gratefully.
“If you’re too busy, Uncle Dodds, I can come back?” Stella said, although she desperately wanted to hear what the b-mail said.
To her relief, Dodds said, “You best stay, Stella. Unless I’m very much mistaken, this b-mail may concern you particularly.”
The turntable whizzed around, and puffs of steam started curling up from the BC’s trumpet, coalescing into the likeness of someone’s face. The nose on the face drooped down, like a small trunk, and there were two tusks protruding up from its mouth.
“Greetings. To my esteemed colleague Doctor Dodds,” a grave voice intoned.
“Poor old Jerbil,” Dodds said, with a chuckle. “He speaks like that all the time, you know. When he was professor of Galactic History at the Pilades University, his students were always making fun of him.”
“Is that Jerbil-Din?” Stella blurted out.
“Yes. How did you know that?” Dodds asked.
“Gladys had a b-mail from him.”
“Oh, you saw that, did you?”
“No. She wouldn’t let us see it, but I recognise the name.”
“Jerbil-Din is the Interplanetary Society’s contact in the Pilades Cluster. He’s a bit of a dry old stick, but I asked him to help out with a few enquiries.”
“I have located, as per your request, the suspect Vanga-Tron,” Jerbil-Din’s face continued. “He took some time to find. But eventually he was found in the psychiatric wing of the Sagittarian Hospital, on Pilades.”
The image of the face cleared and was replaced by the sight of a hospital ward. All the figures had similar noses and tusks as Jerbil-Din. Some were laid up in bed, whilst others in nurses’ uniforms were taking temperatures and reading charts. The scene focused in on one figure who was strapped to a chair. His arms were bound into a straightjacket, but his eyes stared blankly into space. His mouth was open, as if in a silent scream. Stella shuddered, she realised that this must be Vanga-Tron.
“Any attempts at questioning have failed. All tests confirm that Vanga-Tron has quite literally lost his mind,” Jerbil-Din’s voice continued. “Vanga-Tron was formerly a tour guide in one of the more remote areas in the cluster, specialising in guided tours for the more adventurous holiday-maker in grid reference TC085. Known locally by Piladeans as the Phantom Quadrant.”
The image changed again to a map of murky dust clouds lit by a glow of purplish lights. An arrow pointed to a small ship drifting in space.
“It was on the edge of this quadrant that the vessel containing Vanga-Tron was found. There was no sign of a struggle, but all passengers and crew were missing. I am setting off to the Phantom Quadrant for further investigation into these strange disappearances and the mysterious malady of Vanga-Tron. Expect a detailed b-mailed report when I return. Your colleague, Jerbil-Din.”
“The pompous old fool!” Dodds cried out. “I told him to wait for us. Who knows what trouble he’s got into now?”
“Do you think that the Greddylick is at this Phantom Quadrant?” Stella asked.
“I don’t know,” Dodds said, slumping into the chair behind his desk, “but I don’t think there can be any doubt that it has been there. Whether it’s still there now…?” Dodds gave a shrug and a sigh. “It’s too late to stop Jerbil now. We won’t get to the Pilades Cluster until tomorrow.”
Stella tried to stifle a surge of excitement. She knew she should be worried, but the prospect of getting some of her answers overtook her fears. Dodds passed a hand over his face and looked up at Stella.
“Well, there’s no point being worried about something we can’t do anything about. Anyway, you came here to see me about something?”
After the news from Jerbil-Din, Stella had completely forgotten about getting some exercise for Helix. That seemed quite trivial now.
“It’s just, I wondered whether there’s anywhere Helix could stretch his legs? He’s been cooped up in the cabin all this time. I think he’s getting a bit fat.”
“Putting on the pounds, is he? Well, we can’t have that,” Dodds said with a smile. “He needs to be fighting fit, for when we get to the Phantom Quadrant.”
“It’s just, normally, I’d take him out for a walk. But there’s nowhere we can go. The corridors are all too cramped.”
“Don’t worry, I know what’ll do the trick,” Dodds proclaimed. “Space walkies!”
***