Zombie Bums from Uranus
Page 8
‘No problems,’ said Gran, flexing her fingers.
Zack, Gran and Eleanor dragged the three heavy bum-fighters up the steps and clamped them into the simulator seats.
Then they locked the door.
‘Better run a program in case they wake up,’ said Eleanor.
Zack opened the control panel and scrolled down the list of options:
BUMCANO ADVENTURE
SEA OF BUMS DIVE
GREAT WINDY DESERT TREK
STENCHGANTOR SAFARI
BROWN FOREST PICNIC
GREAT WHITE BUM HUNT
Zack smiled. They all sounded deceptively pleasant.
But he knew better.
He’d been killed in every single one of them.
Over and over again.
He punched ‘BUMCANO ADVENTURE’. Despite the crapalanche, UFBs, brown river, bum-piranhas, poopigators, and sewage fall it offered excellent skiing and some of the most stunning simulated scenery Zack had ever virtually experienced.
The display offered a range of difficulty levels from one to ten. The control was already set at level ten.
That’s odd, thought Zack. He was probably the last person to have used the simulator and he was only a rookie. Rookies never went past level three. Why would the Kicker have had it on level ten?
Zack shrugged, set the time period for UNLIMITED and pressed the start button.
‘Bum voyage,’ he said. ‘That ought to keep them out of trouble for a while.’
He turned to Eleanor and Gran.
They were sitting slumped against the wall, exhausted with the effort of dragging the Kicker, the Smacker and Silas into the simulator.
Zack was about to sit down when Mittens suddenly leapt onto Zack’s bum.
‘Aaaggh!’ yelled his bum.
‘Aaaaggghhh!’ yelled Zack.
Eleanor grabbed the hissing and wildly clawing Mittens by her tail, and pulled her clear of Zack’s bum. It was obvious what had happened.
Mittens had been zombie-bummified as well.
Eleanor climbed the steps of the simulator and started unlocking the door.
‘No!’ said Gran, jumping up.
‘Sorry, but I have to do this,’ said Eleanor. ‘This cat has been zombie-bummified! The simulator is the safest place for it.’
Gran nodded sadly.
Eleanor threw Mittens inside and slammed the door shut.
‘Good riddance to bad rubbish I say!’ said Zack’s bum as Zack dabbed at its bite-wound with a wad of toilet paper.
‘Put a cork in it!’ said Gran, wiping a tear from her eye.
‘Language!’ said Zack’s bum.
‘We’d better get back to the bum-mobile,’ said Eleanor. ‘It’s too dangerous for us to stay here.’
They left the classroom.
On their way back to the bum-mobile, Zack had an idea. ‘Back in a second,’ he said. Before Eleanor could object, he ran up the hill towards what remained of Silas Sterne’s mansion.
Zack had found out enough about the true identity of his parents to become very worried about them. The coincidence of their being away ‘on tour with the orchestra’ at almost exactly the same time that Silas Sterne had gone to Uranus seemed somehow more than a coincidence. But Zack needed to find out for sure.
He entered the front door of the mansion and headed towards the first door on the right.
He’d only been in Silas Sterne’s office once before. That was when he’d first arrived at the Bum-fighting Academy. Silas had called him in and personally congratulated him on his success in defeating the Great White Bum. Zack remembered being completely overawed by the experience.
All around the room there had been pictures of the Bum Hunter—some of him in action, some of him posing with other famous bum hunters—along with a range of certificates, awards and trophy bums, which he’d had stuffed and mounted on the wall. Zack remembered being particularly impressed by a rack of bum-harpoons ranging from the ultra-modern (laser sighting, self-sharpening head) to the ultra-primitive (a sharpened stick with feathers sticky-taped to the end).
Now, however, like the classroom, Silas’s office was a mess, bearing all the signs of a great struggle. The harpoons were scattered all over the floor, pictures and awards cracked, and the trophy bums torn off the wall and ripped apart to reveal their feather and horsehair stuffing.
Zack bent down and picked one of the photos out of the rubble.
He wiped the dust off the cracked glass and saw the Bum Hunter with his arm around a woman who looked exactly like his gran, except without the wrinkles. At the bottom of the frame was a small brass plate inscribed with the words ‘Me and the Pincher: Siberian Crater 1927’.
Zack searched through the rubble until he found a filing cabinet marked ‘TOP SECRET E-MISSIONS: DO NOT OPEN’.
Under normal circumstances, Zack would never have even considered disobeying an instruction like this, but whatever the circumstances were, they were definitely not normal.
He pulled open the heavy drawer and flicked through the files past a bewildering array of bum hot spots—‘BOTSWANA’, ‘BUMBAY’, ‘SMELLBOURNE’, and ‘THE NETHERLANDS’—until he came to a file marked ‘URANUS’.
Zack pulled it out.
It didn’t take him long to find the E-mission statement (‘The purpose of this E-mission is to investigate the makeup of the rings of Uranus’), but it was the personnel list directly underneath it that made his eyes widen and stomach sink:
SILAS STERNE
JAMES FREEMAN
JUDI FREEMAN
‘I thought so,’ Zack said quietly. He folded the piece of paper and put it carefully in the top pocket of his bum-fighting overalls.
He desperately wished there was some way to contact his parents and get them to come home. But Uranus was two-and-a-half billion kilometres away. It was clearly impossible.
And yet Zack knew Silas Sterne had been recalled from Uranus a few weeks earlier to help deal with the unfolding bumcano crisis. If he’d been contacted from Earth then there had to be a way to get in touch with his parents.
Zack searched the office for a clue.
But he found nothing.
He was about to give up and leave when he noticed a red button behind a small frame of glass on the wall behind the door.
He studied it closely. There was a small plaque attached. It read:
SPECIAL BUMERGENCY TRANSMITTER
To be used strictly for urgent recall of
bum-fighters on E-missions in case they’re
needed back on Earth to help deal with a
bumergency such as a bumcano crisis, zombie
bum invasion or something like that.
INSTRUCTIONS:
1. BREAK GLASS
2. PRESS BUTTON
Zack knew exactly what he had to do.
He broke the glass.
He pressed the button.
A square section of the wall slid away to reveal an illuminated screen. A keyboard slid out from underneath it.
‘Welcome to bumergency recall,’ said a computerised voice. ‘Please type in the names of the operatives you wish to recall and supply a brief explanation.’
Zack—who was not quite as deft with his fingers as his gran—typed as fast as his two-fingered style would let him.
TO JAMES FREEMAN AND JUDI FREEMAN,
please come back immediately. Earth is being
taken over by zombie bums from Uranus.
Love, ZACK FREEMAN (your son).
P.S. The Great White Bum is dead! I harpooned
it and Silas Sterne nominated me for the Bum
Hunters’ Hall of Fame.
P.P.S. Gran told me everything.
He pressed SEND, pushed the keyboard back into the wall and ran to rejoin the others.
Zack arrived back at the bum-mobile to find Eleanor fuming.
‘You’d better have a good reason for just running off like that,’ she said. ‘Don’t you realise how dangerous this place is n
ow?’
‘Yes,’ said Zack, ‘and I’m sorry, but I had to find out whether the bum-fighters who went to Uranus with Silas were my parents.’
‘And?’ said Eleanor.
‘They were!’ Zack said. ‘So I sent them a message telling them to return immediately.’
‘Well, that’s just brilliant!’ said Eleanor sarcastically. ‘We really seem to be getting on top of the situation here.’
‘It could be worse,’ said Gran.
‘How on earth could things possibly be WORSE?’ yelled Eleanor. ‘Zombie bums have come down from Uranus . . .’
‘Language!’ said Gran.
‘I meant the planet,’ said Eleanor.
Gran nodded.
‘Anyway,’ Eleanor continued, ‘these zombie bums are attaching themselves to people’s bums—whether the bums are real or false doesn’t seem to matter to them—all they care about is turning people into eating machines so that the bums can grow really big. Now, not only are zombie bums impervious to pain but—judging from what I saw when I rescued you both—they have regenerative powers that allow them to put themselves back together again after being blasted apart. This, according to my calculations, makes them pretty much indestructible. Am I correct?’
Zack and Gran nodded.
‘And just to make things really bad,’ said Eleanor, barely pausing for breath, ‘we’ve just lost three of the most experienced and best bum-fighters in the world. So would you please explain to me how things could possibly be any worse?’
‘At least I’m still here,’ said Gran.
‘Oh, well, relax everybody!’ said Eleanor, throwing her arms in the air. ‘The Pincher’s here!’
‘That sarcasm is uncalled for, soldier!’ said Gran.
‘My name’s Eleanor!’ snapped Eleanor.
Gran looked shocked. ‘If I’d spoken to my superiors like that in my day . . .’
‘Well it’s not your day, is it?’ said Eleanor. ‘Things have changed. We’ve moved on. The old ways don’t work anymore.’
‘I wouldn’t be so sure of that,’ said Gran, drawing her fingers up to her eye. ‘There’s still a lot of pinch left in these fingers yet!’
‘Sure,’ said Eleanor, ‘but pinching doesn’t work against the zombie bums. No matter how hard you pinch a zombie bum it just reforms.’
‘Gran,’ said Zack, desperate to stop the two bum-fighters bickering, ‘remember you were telling me how you formed the world’s first bum-fighting team? Where are the other members now?’
Gran drew in her breath. ‘You mean the Forker and the Flicker?’ she asked.
‘Yes!’ said Zack. ‘Why don’t we contact them?’
‘Good idea!’ said Gran, growing excited. ‘We could get the old gang back together! Just like the good old days! Teach you young kids a trick or two!’
‘Great!’ said Zack, feeling hope for the first time in quite a while. ‘So where are they?’
Gran looked at him blankly. ‘I’ve got no idea,’ she said. ‘I don’t even know if they’re still alive, to tell you the truth. Last I heard they were at the Bum-fighters’ Retirement Home, but that was a long time ago . . .’
‘Can you take us there?’ said Zack.
Gran thought. ‘I think so,’ she said.
Eleanor rolled her eyes. ‘I can’t see how a bunch of superannuated bum-fighters past their use-by date are going to help us,’ she said.
‘Got any better ideas?’ said Zack.
Eleanor shrugged.
‘Then let’s go,’ he said.
James Freeman could hardly contain his excitement as the bum-mobile touched down on the spongy brown surface of Uranus.
He pressed his nose against the windscreen and peered out.
Ever since he’d been a little boy he’d dreamed of travelling to other planets.
And now it had finally happened.
Of course the planets he’d dreamed of travelling to had been quite different from this one. The planets in his dreams had been incredible places full of exotic plants, extraordinary life forms and awesome landscapes.
As far as James could see, however, the only incredible thing about Uranus was its overwhelming dullness. It was distinctly lacking in exotic plants and extraordinary life forms, and the only awesome feature of the landscape was that it had no awesome features. There was nothing but brown sludge stretching from one end of the planet to the other.
Still, to James Freeman, it was better than nothing.
At least he was on another planet.
To Judi Freeman, however, it was worse than anything.
There was only one planet she wanted to be on, but it was almost two-and-a-half billion kilometres away.
‘Let’s go and explore!’ said James. He pushed himself up out of his seat and fell flat on his face on the floor.
Judi shook her head. ‘Are you all right?’ she said. ‘Don’t forget that on Uranus you’re four times heavier than you are on Earth. You’re going to have to slow down a little.’
‘Of course I knew that,’ said James, picking himself up off the floor with great difficulty. ‘I was just demonstrating how dangerous it was for your benefit.’
Judi nodded. ‘Thank you, James, that’s very thoughtful of you. Would you like a hand up?’
James stretched out his hand. Judi grabbed it and pulled him upright.
‘So what are we waiting for?’ said James, moving slowly towards the hatch. ‘Let’s go!’
‘Not so fast,’ said Judi. ‘We need to take a reading on the rectometer before we even think about going out there.’
James sighed. He knew Judi was right.
He sat down in the pilot’s seat and grabbed hold of a small lever which operated a telescopic rectometer on the outside of the bum-mobile. It measured the intensity of a given smell according to the Rectum scale. ‘A bum-fighter’s best friend!’ read the inscription along its side. James watched as the rectometer extended out of the nose of the bum-mobile.
When it was fully extended he pressed the button on top of the lever marked ‘READ’.
Almost immediately the rectometer began flashing and emitting a piercing alarm. James hit the button marked ‘OFF’ but there was no response.
The needle on the dial in the cockpit indicating the strength of the stench was spinning wildly.
‘Shut it down!’ yelled Judi, her fingers in her ears. ‘We’ll end up deaf!’
‘I can’t!’ yelled James.
They watched helplessly as the rectometer on the outside of the ship began to melt.
Finally there was silence.
‘What do you think it means?’ said Judi.
‘That we need a new rectometer,’ replied James.
‘Very funny,’ said Judi. She leaned forward and studied the broken dial. ‘Clearly the smell out there is pretty bad. Maybe we shouldn’t go out.’
‘Are you kidding?’ said James. ‘I didn’t come all this way just to look out the window!’
‘But there’s nothing out there!’ said Judi. ‘Nothing but sludge as far as you can see and a stench so intense it sent the rectometer into meltdown.’
‘We don’t know that the rectometer didn’t just malfunction,’ said James. ‘But we do know that there is something out there. Something that caused the planet to explode and I’m going to find out what it is, whether you want to come or not.’
‘Okay,’ said Judi. ‘But we’re wearing the 200 per cent stench-proof suits. And nose-pegs.’
‘I hate nose-pegs,’ said James. ‘They hurt.’
‘Stop complaining and just put them on,’ said Judi, handing James two bright red pegs. ‘I’m going to take a perfume bomb as well, in case we need to clear the air.’
James groaned. ‘I hate perfume bombs even more than I hate nose-pegs. Last time you let one off I smelt like a girl for a week.’
Judi rolled her eyes. ‘When are you going to grow up, James?’ she said. ‘We’re not going for a walk in the park. We’re going for a walk on Uranus!’
‘Ouch!’ said James.
‘I meant the planet,’ sighed Judi.
At last James and Judi were fully suited up in their extra-vehicular bum-fighting 200 per cent stench-proof suits, looking more like nuclear power plant workers than bum-fighters.
‘Can you hear me?’ said James, testing the radio link between their helmets.
‘Loud and clear,’ said Judi, handing him a couple of extra pegs. ‘You’d better take these. You might need them.’
‘Thanks,’ said James, taking the pegs and putting them in his top pocket.
Judi nodded and smiled. ‘Let’s go,’ she said.
She pressed the hatch release and they climbed out on top of the bum-mobile.
Neither of them was prepared for quite how horrible it was.
Or how smelly.
It literally took their breath away.
In fact, the stench was so strong that even though they were wearing nose-pegs and 200 per cent stench-proof suits they could still smell it.
But to Judi, the most remarkable thing about the stench was that it wasn’t just methane.
Mixed in was the faint, but distinct, smell of meat cooking.
‘I know this sounds crazy,’ said Judi. ‘But can you smell a barbeque?’
James nodded. ‘Yes!’ he said. ‘But how is that possible?’
‘I don’t know,’ said Judi. ‘There’s a lot I don’t know about Uranus.’
‘That makes two of us,’ said James, smirking.
‘I meant the planet,’ said Judi.
‘So did I,’ said James.
James turned around slowly, scanning the horizon until he located a thin plume of grey smoke in the distance coming from a crater.
‘Look,’ said James pointing. ‘Over there.’
Judi shifted her gaze to where he was pointing. ‘What do you think it is?’
‘I don’t know,’ said James. ‘But I think it’s what we’re looking for.’
James climbed carefully down the ladder on the side of the bum-mobile.