Attack of the Meteor Monsters

by Chris Priestley

  ‘I see,’ said Mr Luckless.

  ‘How is it … that you are … doing?’ said Miss MT2T.

  ‘I am very well, thank you,’ said Mr Luckless. ‘I trust that you have been made to feel welcome in Maudlin Towers.’

  ‘There have been … no outward signs … of hostility,’ said Miss MT2T.

  ‘Ah, excellent,’ said Mr Luckless. ‘Frankly, that would go down as a good day for me.’

  ‘Have you seen Mr Gruntforth at all?’ said the Headmaster.

  ‘Mr Gruntforth?’ said Mr Luckless. ‘No, Headmaster.’

  ‘Haven’t laid eyes on him since he decided to go on a jog up Pug’s Peak this morning.’

  The boys and Mr Luckless exchanged a glance. It sounded like the Headmaster would be recruiting yet another sports master …

  ‘You had something urgent to tell me,’ said the Headmaster to Mr Luckless.

  ‘Yes,’ replied the history teacher, casting a glance at Miss MT2T. ‘I wonder if I shouldn’t wait until –’

  ‘I will leave now,’ said Miss MT2T.

  ‘Must you?’ said the Headmaster. ‘But I was so looking forward to showing you my shoe collection. Another time, then.’

  Miss MT2T left the room, accompanied by the faintest clanking and hissing.

  ‘Now what was so important that you had to risk your life in mortal combat with Miss Pernickety?’

  ‘Sir,’ said Mr Luckless. ‘The boys have terrible news.’

  ‘Well, it had better be terrible, for your sakes,’ said the Headmaster.

  Sponge whimpered.

  ‘We have been invaded by creatures from another world!’ cried Mildew.

  The Headmaster smiled and opened his mouth to speak.

  ‘Not the girls!’ cried Mr Luckless, Mildew and Sponge in unison.

  ‘But surely there is some mistake,’ said the Headmaster. ‘This is the stuff of fiction. You have become far too influenced by those Vernon Jules fantasies you read, Mr Luckless.’

  ‘Show him, Mildew.’

  Mildew pulled out his drawing and showed it to the Headmaster, who staggered backwards.

  ‘Good Lord!’ he cried. ‘It can’t be.’

  ‘And yet it is, sir,’ said Mildew.

  ‘What on earth do they want?’

  ‘They say they are looking for some renegade criminals. They have informed us they will vaporise the planet if we don’t hand them over. In six hours.’

  ‘Six hours!’ cried the Headmaster.

  ‘Actually, it’s more like five now,’ said Sponge.

  ‘But surely we would have noticed if alien criminals had arrived at Maudlin Towers,’ said the Headmaster. ‘How can we hand them over if we do not have them? It’s outrageous. They have clearly made a mistake. I’m sure they’ll see reason.’

  ‘They don’t look like the kind of giant mechanical spiders who go in for reason that much, sir,’ said Mildew.

  ‘Spiders?’

  ‘Yes, they are called Zigg and Tarduz and they are spiders from Marzz.’

  ‘Mars?’ said the Headmaster.

  ‘No, sir – Marzz,’ said Sponge. ‘A different place entirely, apparently.’

  ‘Gather the staff!’ said the Headmaster to Mr Luckless. ‘We shall go and parley with these creatures. I refuse to be threatened or bullied! That’s my job!’

  he Headmaster gathered the staff together in the school hall. The boys of Maudlin Towers were present too and the visiting girls, who stood in another bustling group overseen by Miss MT2T. It was a bit of a squeeze.

  ‘What … is … occurring?’ said Miss MT2T.

  ‘Please do not concern yourself, madam,’ said the Headmaster. ‘Everything will be resolved shortly.’

  There was a great deal of muttering and mumbling until the Headmaster nodded to the Reverend Brimstone, who bellowed at everyone to be silent or risk eternal torment, his eyes swivelling like spinning billiard balls.

  ‘Thank you, Reverend,’ said the Headmaster. ‘Well put as always. If I could have your attention.’

  Miss Bronteen opened her mouth to speak but a quick growl from Reverend Brimstone silenced her once more.

  ‘Maudlin Towers is in mortal danger,’ said the Headmaster.

  There were gasps from the staff and pupils alike. The Headmaster raised his hands.

  ‘Mortal danger?’ said Flintlock, the groundsman. ‘Shall I fetch the school cannon, Headmaster?’

  ‘Maybe later,’ replied the Headmaster. ‘Let’s try reason first.’

  ‘Have I ever told you,’ began Mr Drumlin, the geography teacher, ‘about the time I was surrounded by the –’

  ‘Yes!’ shouted the staff.

  ‘With nothing to staunch the flames but my own –’

  ‘Yes!’

  ‘But what on earth is going on, Headmaster?’ said Mr Riddell, the art teacher. ‘I have an allegorical etching to window-mount.’

  ‘I will explain everything,’ said the Headmaster. ‘Although it may stretch your powers of understanding to their twanging point. I myself took some persuading. But these two brave boys have informed me that Maudlin Towers – or at least its environs – has been invaded by creatures from another world!’

  There was a pause of several moments before raucous chuckling broke out among the staff. The Headmaster’s smile began to falter and he turned to Reverend Brimstone for support, only to find he was among the most enthusiastic of the chucklers.

  ‘Show them, Mildew!’ demanded the Headmaster.

  Mildew nodded, and brought out his drawing, showing it to each of the staff in turn. Reverend Brimstone was the last to see it and the last to stop chuckling, but when he did, he dropped to his knees in prayer, gibbering like a puzzled dormouse.

  ‘Mon Dieu!’ cried Miss Bleu. ‘It iz true!’

  The room descended into a clamour of anxious jabbering before the Headmaster called on Reverend Brimstone to bellow the crowd into silence for a second time.

  ‘These creatures say they are in pursuit of criminals and they believe that these criminals are here, in Maudlin Towers. They demand we hand them over or the entire planet will be vaporised.’

  ‘But how can we hand them over if we do not have them, Headmaster?’ asked Miss Bronteen.

  ‘Precisely,’ said the Headmaster. ‘That is the perilous pickle we now find ourselves in.’

  The staff broke out into another chorus of jabbering.

  ‘Enough! The planet needs us. More importantly, the school needs us!’ cried the Headmaster. ‘And when our school needs us, we answer its call. We do not ask what may become of us –’

  ‘Don’t we?’ asked Mr Luckless.

  ‘No!’ said the Headmaster. ‘We simply stride forth and do our duty. These boys may not be very bright, nor their parents very rich, but they have been placed in our care and we will do everything we can to protect them.

  ‘And chance has also made us guardians to these girls, who find themselves among us, and we shall defend them as steadfastly as any of our boys. For we are teachers – teachers! – and there is no nobler or finer calling. We are teachers and we know no fear! Come, comrades. For Maudlin Towers!’

  ‘For Maudlin Towers!’ cried the staff.

  ‘I … insist … that I … accompany … you,’ said Miss MT2T.

  ‘By Jove,’ said the Headmaster. ‘I like your spirit,

  I must say. We will be honoured to have you in our ranks.’

  ‘But what is it that we hope to achieve, Headmaster?’ said Mr Luckless, some of his resolve already deserting him.

  ‘We shall appeal to their sense of reason,’ said the Headmaster with a smile. ‘I’m sure there has simply been a terrible misunderstanding. Perhaps a problem with translation.’

  ‘Bravo, sir,’ said Mildew as the Headmaster began to stride away. ‘Very stirring. I may make a note or two to that effect in my diary. Should you fail to return I shall ensure the governors have a very –’

  ‘No, no, no,’ said the Headmaster. ‘We will need you
as guides. Come along.’

  ‘But, sir,’ protested Mildew. ‘My knees …’

  ‘Show some Maudlin grit, Mildew,’ said the Headmaster. ‘What would your father say?’

  ‘“Run”, I imagine,’ said Mildew.

  ‘Be that as it may, you’re coming with us. And you, Spongely-Partwork.’

  The two boys groaned and hung their heads, but the Headmaster would not be dissuaded.

  ‘Ha!’ cried Kenningworth.

  ‘You too, Kenningworth!’ said the Headmaster over his shoulder.

  ‘Why me, sir?’ said Kenningworth.

  ‘A Maudlin boy never asks why, Kenningworth, only what!’

  ‘What?’ said Kenningworth.

  ‘Good man!’ said the Headmaster.

  Kenningworth muttered and Mildew and Sponge trudged along behind him as he followed the Headmaster out of the school and up the hill.

  ‘All will be well,’ said Mr Luckless, smiling at the boys.

  ‘You seem oddly confident all of a sudden, sir,’ said Mildew. ‘Given the giant mechanical spiders and so forth. I should have expected you to be more concerned.’

  Mr Luckless leaned forward and whispered.

  ‘I’ll let you in on a secret. Do you remember when I had the time machine and was taking Miss Livia back to Roman times?’

  ‘When her husband gave you the black eye?’ said Mildew.

  ‘Quite,’ said Mr Luckless with a frown. ‘Moving on … Well, I overshot my return and ended up in the future.’

  ‘How far in the future, sir?’ said Sponge.

  ‘I don’t know entirely but it can’t be too far from now – and all was well.’

  ‘Well, that’s a relief,’ said Sponge.

  ‘How did you know?’ said Mildew. ‘How could you be sure that all was well?’

  ‘Because you told me, Mildew,’ said Mr Luckless with a smile. ‘I asked you how things were and you said, “Everything is back to normal.” ’

  ‘Stop talking in the ranks!’ yelled the Headmaster, making Mr Luckless jump.

  Eventually they reached the summit of Pug’s Peak and found it deserted. The Headmaster strode forward towards the alien space-carriage with all the authority he could muster.

  ‘Hello?’ he cried. ‘Hello? I demand to speak to whomever is in charge!’

  ‘Do you have the alien criminals?’ boomed a voice Mildew and Sponge recognised as Tarduz.

  ‘No,’ said the Headmaster. ‘But –’

  ‘Then you are wasting time,’ boomed Zigg. ‘Go away!’

  ‘Well said, old planet,’ said Tarduz.

  ‘We will not go away!’ said the Headmaster.

  The rest of the teachers cheered in agreement. Reverend Brimstone stepped forward, growling.

  ‘If you aren’t going to look for the aliens you are of no use to us,’ boomed Tarduz.

  ‘Now see here!’ cried the Headmaster. ‘You can’t just –’

  A crackling beam of light burst from the alien craft and, separating out into smaller tentacle-like beams, hit each member of staff in turn, including Miss MT2T, lifting them off the ground and leaving them dangling four feet in the air.

  ildew, Sponge and Kenningworth stared in amazement at their dangling teachers. They seemed frozen, eyes open but oblivious, like floating statues or hovering uncles. Kenningworth reached up and gave Miss Bronteen a shove, making her dance like a lantern.

  ‘Who are you?’ said Tarduz, emerging from the alien craft and pointing one of its long metal feet at Kenningworth.

  ‘Er … Kenningworth. I was here earlier. For the record I didn’t really want to come back.’

  ‘Who are these slightly larger Earthlings who now dangle before us?’ said Zigg, lumbering forward too. ‘And why are they so annoying?’

  ‘The answer to the first question is they are our teachers,’ said Kenningworth. ‘Which is also the answer to your second question.’

  ‘Then we shall vaporise them!’ cried Tarduz.

  ‘No!’ shouted Mildew.

  ‘But you find them as annoying as we do,’ said Zigg. ‘It’s obvious. What is your problem?’

  ‘Maybe so,’ said Mildew. ‘Maybe they are annoying. Sometimes. Often. But you can’t just go round vaporising everything that annoys you.’

  ‘Why not?’ said Zigg.

  ‘Yes – why not, Mildew?’ said Kenningworth.

  ‘Why not?’ said Mildew. ‘Why not? Tell him, Sponge.’

  ‘Because it’s not cricket,’ said Sponge.

  ‘Explain cricket,’ said Tarduz.

  ‘No one can explain cricket,’ said Mildew.

  ‘The Great One spoke of cricket,’ said Zigg. ‘It is a thing of wonder and beauty, more exciting and meaningful than life itself.’

  ‘Are you sure he was talking about cricket?’ said Kenningworth.

  ‘We need more information,’ said Zigg.

  The suction cups snaked out again and plonked down on to the heads of Mildew and Sponge.

  ‘Not interested in reading my mind, then?’ said Kenningworth. ‘Not that I care.’

  ‘We only have the two. Sorry.’

  Kenningworth rolled his eyes and tutted. A few seconds later Mildew and Sponge were released and the boys fell down dizzily. The mechanical spiders clanked and wheezed, staggering a little.

  ‘We learned almost nothing at all about this so-called cricket of yours,’ said Zigg.

  ‘We told you,’ said Mildew, getting up slowly. ‘It’s impossible to –’

  ‘The small one seems to think of nothing but biscuits and the larger one about something called Felicity Fallowfield.’

  Mildew blushed. Sponge grinned. Kenningworth snorted.

  ‘Let’s go a little deeper this time,’ said Tarduz.

  The suction cups plopped back on to the boys’ heads. Once again Mildew and Sponge slumped dizzily to the ground as the cups were pulled away.

  ‘You won’t find anything in there,’ said Kenningworth. ‘You’d find more in an empty bin.’ ‘On the contrary,’ boomed Zigg. ‘We learned about bearded creatures with horned helmets, women from the period you call “Roman” and men who turn into wolves …’ ‘Really?’ said Kenningworth. ‘Are you sure those things aren’t faulty?’

  ‘Most important of all, we learned about the time machine!’

  ‘The what?’ said Kenningworth.

  ‘The time machine?’ said Mildew. ‘I’m not sure I quite follow? Are you talking about a clock? There are several of those around the –’

  ‘You know exactly what we are talking about!’ boomed Zigg. ‘We demand that you hand over the criminals – and your time machine.’

  ‘Not necessarily in that order,’ said Tarduz.

  ‘Shhhh. Let me do the talking,’ said Zigg.

  ‘I was just trying to help,’ said Tarduz.

  ‘I know that, old star,’ said Zigg.

  ‘What are they talking about, Mildew?’ said Kenningworth. ‘We don’t have a time machine.’

  ‘See!’ said Mildew. ‘There you are! We don’t have one.’

  ‘And besides,’ said Sponge. ‘You wouldn’t fit in it. You’re too big.’

  ‘Sponge!’ hissed Mildew.

  ‘Ah – the prickly-headed one thinks these are our actual forms,’ said Zigg.

  There was a faint beeping, a series of whinnying noises, a clunk and then, after a pause, a hollow bong, and then out from the glowing orbs atop the spidery bodies came two smaller orbs which floated towards the startled boys. Inside each was a brain.

  ‘Urgh,’ said Kenningworth.

  ‘You see,’ said Zigg, ‘we are not too big. We have evolved beyond your need for a body. We have no need for food. Or your Earthly trousers.’

  ‘I miss food,’ said Tarduz.

  ‘Me too,’ said Zigg.

  ‘Especially biscuits – but we should talk about this later, old moon.’

  ‘Oh – yes – probably.’

  ‘Find those criminals now and bring us your time machine!’
/>
  ‘What exactly have these criminals done, anyway?’ asked Kenningworth.

  ‘Something terrible,’ said Zigg in a trembling voice. ‘A crime of such enormity it would make your blood run cold if I told you.’

  ‘All the same,’ said Kenningworth, ‘why can’t you get them yourselves?’

  ‘Because they are blocking our scanners. They are cunning. We know they are here but we cannot find them.’

  ‘Then how do you expect us to find them?’

  ‘That is your problem,’ said Zigg. ‘We could just have vaporised you from the start. But because the Great One believed in fair play we are giving you a sporting chance.’

  ‘No, you’re not,’ said Kenningworth.

  ‘Enough! To ensure you keep to the task, Kevin here will be keeping an eye on you, as it were …’ Zigg chuckled.

  ‘Good one,’ said Tarduz. ‘That never gets old.’

  ‘I know,’ said Zigg. ‘Kevin! Get a move on.’

  Out from their craft popped the very same giant floating eyeball Sponge and Mildew had seen only a few weeks earlier when they had travelled to a few weeks later in the time machine.

  ‘Aaaargh!’ cried Sponge.

  ‘Aaaargh!’ seconded Mildew.

  ‘Aaaargh!’ cried Kenningworth.

  The boys left their dangling teachers behind and beat a hasty retreat down the side of Pug’s Peak, Kevin the giant floating eyeball bobbing eerily along over the bracken in pursuit.

  he boys slithered down the side of the hill and were just pausing for breath outside the bothy when Kenningworth turned to Mildew and Sponge and peered at them until they both backed away.

  ‘Are you quite all right?’ said Mildew. ‘Only you seem a tad agitated.’

  ‘What was all that about time machines?’ said Kenningworth.

  ‘That?’ said Mildew, looking round to check if Kevin was there. ‘Oh – you know aliens, always talking nonsense. The way they do. Aliens. Tell him, Sponge.’

  Kenningworth peered at Sponge. Sponge’s mouth swung open like a door in a light summer breeze and then swung shut again. The shadow of Kevin fell over them for a moment but the eyeball floated past across the sports field.