Attack of the Meteor Monsters

by Chris Priestley

  ‘You look like you’re hiding something, Sponge,’ said Kenningworth.

  Sponge whimpered.

  ‘Oh, Sponge always looks like that,’ said Mildew. ‘That’s basically Sponge’s look. That’s classic Sponge.’

  ‘What’s going on?’ said Kenningworth.

  ‘Going on?’ said Mildew. ‘Going on?’

  ‘Yes – going on. With you two. What are you up to?’

  ‘Up to?’ said Mildew.

  ‘Stop just repeating what I’m saying,’ said Kenningworth. ‘You know what I mean. You’ve seen that giant floating eyeball before, haven’t you?’

  ‘Er …’ murmured Sponge, looking at Mildew.

  ‘Well, I suppose at least we know the alien criminals aren’t giant floating eyeballs,’ said Mildew.

  ‘But that means we still don’t know who they actually are!’ said Sponge.

  ‘True,’ said Mildew.

  ‘Look – come on,’ said Kenningworth. ‘What is all this about – men in horned helmets, Romans and werewolves and time machines? We haven’t got time for secrets.’

  Mildew and Sponge looked at each other.

  ‘Tell me, you dog biscuits,’ insisted Kenning-worth.

  ‘All right!’ said Mildew. ‘It’s true. There was a time machine.’

  ‘Don’t tell him, Mildew,’ said Sponge.

  ‘Er … he just has,’ said Kenningworth. ‘Continue …’

  Mildew sighed.

  ‘It was Mr Particle who invented it,’ he said.

  ‘The physics teacher?’ said Kenningworth. ‘The dead one?’

  ‘How many Mr Particles do you know?’ said Mildew. ‘Anyway. He invented a time machine and went back and forth in time and so on.’

  ‘Where is this so-called time machine of Particle’s? How come none of us ever saw it and you have?’

  ‘As a matter of fact, it was in here,’ said Sponge. ‘In the bothy.’

  Kenningworth put his hand on the door latch.

  ‘There’s nothing there now, of course,’ said Mildew as Kenningworth opened the door with a creak.

  ‘No,’ said Kenningworth. ‘You’re right. Just this old armchair with a load of junk stuck to it for some reason.’

  Mildew and Sponge rushed forward.

  ‘The time machine!’ they cried. ‘It’s back!’

  ‘What?’ said Kenningworth. ‘That thing? You’re trying to tell me that flea-bitten old armchair with clock dials and levers is a time machine? I don’t believe you.’

  ‘Well, it’s true,’ said Mildew.

  ‘Prove it,’ said Kenningworth.

  ‘We don’t need to prove it,’ said Mildew. Kenningworth strode over and flopped down in the time machine.

  Mildew and Sponge rushed forward to try and pull him out.

  ‘Let go of me!’ cried Kenningworth. ‘You’ve both gone stark raving –’

  In his struggles to free himself of Mildew’s grip, Kenningworth reached out a hand and grabbed a lever, yanking it back and causing the all too familiar dizzying effects of time travel.

  ‘– mad,’ said Kenningworth.

  ‘Look what you’ve done!’ said Mildew. ‘We don’t even know whether we’ve gone forwards or backwards, or for how long.’

  ‘What are you talking about?’ said Kenningworth. ‘Everything is exactly the same.’

  Kenningworth did seem to have a point. The interior of the bothy did seem almost identical. Almost. The more they looked the more they felt that while it was still a damp and filthy collection of mould and dust and cobwebs, it was as though everything was rather more artfully arranged than before. As though the untidiness was just a little too neat.

  Mildew and Sponge let go of Kenningworth and he stood up and walked over to the door, opening it and looking out. There was Maudlin Towers, just the same as ever … except that somehow, like the bothy, the cloud-swaddled spires and pinnacles seemed crisper, their points sharper, their gargoyles more distinct, more clearly defined.

  ‘I think it would be best if we went straight back,’ said Sponge.

  ‘Back to what?’ said Kenningworth. ‘Back to a couple of deranged mechanical spiders and imminent vaporisation?’

  ‘Strictly speaking,’ said Mildew, ‘we might have to go forward rather than back.’

  ‘Precisely,’ said Kenningworth. ‘We need more information.’

  ‘But –’

  ‘Oh, it’s all right for you, you flannels,’ said Kenningworth. ‘You’ve had a go in this before. Can’t I just have one small glimpse?’

  Mildew leaned towards the time machine and peered at the dials.

  ‘I think we’ve gone into the future,’ said Mildew. ‘I think the best thing to do is –’

  ‘He’s gone,’ said Sponge.

  ‘Well, why didn’t you try to stop him?’ said Mildew.

  The boys stood at the open door of the bothy but Kenningworth was nowhere to be seen.

  ‘We could just leave him here,’ said Mildew.

  The two boys gave this some thought until Sponge shook his head.

  ‘No, Mildew,’ he said. ‘We can’t. This is Kenningworth. It’s not fair to whatever period we’ve arrived in. Who knows what he might do. Besides – it’s our fault. If we hadn’t sent Stupendo back, none of this would have happened.’

  Mildew heaved a heartfelt sigh and nodded.

  ‘I suppose you’re right,’ he said. ‘Come on, then …’

  ildew and Sponge set off towards the school, heading along the ha-ha next to the sports field. After some discussion about where to start their search, they decided to enter through the main door and see if they might ascertain which period they were in. As soon as they were inside, it became clear.

  ‘It’s the same bit of the future we came to before,’ said Mildew. ‘One hundred and fifty years ahead. Look – the Headmaster’s office is full of jigsaws and jam again.’

  ‘And expensive biscuits,’ said Sponge.

  ‘But where on earth is Kenningworth?’ said Mildew. ‘And how are we going to find him?’

  ‘Hello!’ said a voice behind them.

  There stood a girl clad all in black, peering at them sullenly from under her fringe. She pointed a black-painted fingernail at them.

  ‘You’ve come back.’

  ‘I’m sorry,’ said Mildew. ‘I think you must be mistaking us for someone else.’

  ‘Oh no,’ said the girl. ‘You disappeared in a time machine about ten minutes ago. My dad is Tweeting about it.’

  ‘He’s doing what?’ said Sponge.

  Then both boys remembered at once. This girl was here the last time they came. Her family was in Mr Luckless’s classroom, and later they also witnessed Mildew and Sponge’s departure from the bothy.

  ‘Ah,’ said Mildew. ‘It wasn’t a real time machine, of course.’

  ‘You disappeared,’ said the girl.

  ‘It’s just an illusion,’ said Mildew. ‘It’s all done with mirrors.’

  ‘No, it isn’t,’ said the girl. ‘You’re from the past, just like you said.’

  ‘Run, Sponge!’ hissed Mildew.

  The two boys scurried as fast as their feeble calves would carry them, and although she attempted to follow, their knowledge of the layout of Maudlin Towers was vastly superior despite the passage of time.

  Once they felt sure they had given her the slip, they did a brisk tour of the school, checking in each room for any sign of Kenningworth, but at the close of this extensive search no sign was forthcoming.

  ‘We need to get back,’ said Mildew. ‘Before we attract any more unwanted attention.’

  ‘Maybe Kenningworth went back to the bothy to find us,’ said Sponge.

  ‘Good thought,’ said Mildew. ‘It’s worth a try.’

  The two friends hurried back out of the school. Sponge noticed a sign saying car park.

  ‘I wonder what a car is?’ said Sponge.

  ‘Well, we haven’t got time to –’

  To their amazement they saw th
at the entire upper sports field was full of coloured metal carriages, some of which were moving about without the aid of even a single horse.

  ‘Sponge,’ said Mildew. ‘Are you seeing what I’m seeing?’

  Sponge nodded. One of the carriages – of a particularly cruel shade of green – drove straight towards them and the boys headed off to the relative safety of the ha-ha and the bothy.

  But when they burst inside they found that their day was about to get worse.

  ‘It’s not there!’ said Mildew, stating the obvious.

  The time machine was no longer there.

  ‘Kenningworth must have come back and left without us,’ said Mildew.

  ‘The blot,’ said Sponge. ‘How could he?’

  ‘Because he’s a blot, Sponge,’ said Mildew.

  They stared in disbelief at the empty space, their minds unable to come to terms with the enormity of their predicament.

  ‘We’re marooned here,’ said Sponge.

  ‘Meanwhile Kenningworth is hurtling about in the time machine,’ said Mildew. ‘Who knows what he might do if he heads into the past.’

  ‘I suppose we’d know about it if he’d done something really bad,’ said Sponge.

  ‘Would we?’ said Mildew. ‘It’s not as though terrible things haven’t happened in the past. Who knows whether Kenningworth was behind any of them. He could have started the Black Death or invented maths for all we know.’

  Sponge nodded. Maths was just the kind of thing a blot like Kenningworth would come up with.

  ‘And how can we stay here?’ said Mildew. ‘It’s madness out there. We won’t last a minute. Look at the price of biscuits for one thing.’

  The mention of biscuits was too much for Sponge.

  ‘I knew he didn’t like us,’ said Sponge tearfully. ‘But to just leave us here like this. I wouldn’t have believed even he would do that.’

  Suddenly the door to the bothy swung open and there stood Kenningworth.

  ‘Ah,’ said Mildew. ‘We were just talking about you, weren’t we?’

  ‘Yes,’ said Sponge.

  ‘I know,’ said Kenningworth, frowning. ‘I heard.’

  Mildew and Sponge exchanged a glance but Kenningworth spoke first.

  ‘Where’s the time machine? Given that I didn’t take it.’

  ‘Sorry,’ said Mildew. ‘It’s just that –’

  ‘It’s just that I’m a blot,’ said Kenningworth. ‘Yes – I know. But where is it?’

  ‘We don’t know.’

  Kenningworth kicked out at the door.

  ‘Who would have taken it?’ he said. ‘Who even knew it was here?’

  Mildew and Sponge sighed as they realised it must be the black-clad girl they had bumped into. She must have run to the bothy either to find them or simply to have a go in what she knew to be a time machine.

  ‘It’s a girl from this time,’ said Mildew. ‘She saw us on the last visit here and we met again.’

  ‘You’ve been here before?’

  They nodded.

  ‘But this place is utter madness,’ said Kenningworth. ‘There are people talking to themselves holding what look like oblong coasters to their heads.’

  Mildew and Sponge nodded.

  ‘Makes you wonder what the point of it all is if this is what the world is destined for. Say what you like about the Maudlin of our time, but at least it –’

  ‘But don’t you see?’ said Mildew suddenly. ‘If Maudlin Towers is here, even in this bizarre form, it means the planet hasn’t been vaporised, which must mean we defeat the Neenor. Somehow.’

  ‘Or the other fellows do,’ said Kenningworth. ‘Or the girls. We might not play any part at all.’

  The three boys sighed.

  ‘Well, I’m glad they were beaten, whoever did it,’ said Sponge.

  ‘Agreed,’ said Mildew.

  ‘Agreed,’ said Kenningworth, after a pause.

  hey had a brief discussion about what was the best course of action and the only thing they could think of was to find the family of the black-clad girl and try to enlist them in the attempt to bring her back. They all agreed they could not simply stand there staring at the space vacated by the time machine.

  The boys set off towards the school, attracting friendly attention from an elderly couple they passed.

  ‘Isn’t it lovely how they’ve dressed these children up to look like they’re from olden times?’ said the women as they passed by.

  ‘Everyone assumes we’re actors,’ said Mildew. ‘Just like when we were last here.’

  They thought it best to stick together in case splitting up simply resulted in more confusion if the girl did suddenly appear. They were just looking in the hall when they saw a group of people seated in front of what looked like a large painting. Except that it was moving and also, apparently, talking.

  One minute it showed pictures of Maudlin Towers from high above, as though from a balloon or from the viewpoint of one of the many ravens that croaked their way over the crags of Pig’s Pike, the next it showed a painting of Lord Marzipan Maudlin, and then, to their amazement, it showed a classroom photograph from the time when it was Maudlin Towers School for the Not Particularly Bright Sons of the Not Especially Wealthy.

  ‘What is this?’ said Kenningworth. ‘I feel dizzy.’

  ‘That’s us,’ said Sponge. ‘That’s us in the past.’

  ‘Hello,’ said a voice behind them.

  The three boys turned to see the black-clad girl.

  ‘You!’ said Mildew. ‘Where’s our time machine?’

  ‘Back where you left it,’ she said. ‘Apparently it’s really important that you get back.’

  ‘Who told you that?’ said Kenningworth.

  ‘He did,’ said the girl, pointing at Mildew.

  ‘How did you find us?’ said Sponge.

  ‘He said you’d be in the school hall looking baffled in front of the talking painting. And here you are. It’s called a television, by the way.’

  Kenningworth and Sponge turned to Mildew, who shrugged.

  ‘I haven’t said it yet,’ he protested. ‘I don’t know what she’s talking about.’

  ‘Anyway,’ she said. ‘I’m sorry I took it without permission. It was pretty cool though.’

  ‘It’s always a bit chilly in Maudlin Towers,’ said Mildew.

  ‘Looked like quite a lot of stuff was going on,’ she said with a sigh. ‘Not like here. It’s sooooo boring here.’

  ‘It’s mostly boring in our time, too,’ said Mildew. ‘Honest.’

  ‘Yes,’ said Sponge. ‘I’d say ninety-per-cent boredom.’

  ‘Ninety-five easily,’ said Kenningworth. ‘Maybe even ninety-eight.’

  ‘You just happened to arrive when there were floating eyeballs and aliens and such,’ said Mildew.

  The black-clad girl nodded.

  ‘Thank you for rescuing us,’ said Mildew.

  ‘You’re welcome, I suppose,’ she said. ‘Bye, then.’

  ‘Farewell,’ said Mildew.

  Then she leaned forward and kissed Mildew on the cheek, causing him to blush and wheeze.

  ‘Sorry,’ she said with a crooked smile. ‘Couldn’t resist. Just to see the look on your face again.’

  ‘Again?’ said Sponge, outraged.

  She gave them a wave and then turned with another great sigh, and walked away, head bowed. Kenningworth was fiddling with a long, black oblong covered in small buttons with numbers and symbols on them. ‘What is it?’ said Sponge.

  ‘I don’t know,’ said Kenningworth. ‘It was near the moving painting. I saw a woman point it at it to change the picture.’

  Kenningworth pointed it at the real Maudlin Towers and tapped the buttons.

  ‘No!’ cried Mildew.

  But nothing happened.

  ‘Must be broken,’ said Kenningworth, putting it in his pocket.

  The boys raced off to the bothy and Kenningworth hopped into the time machine.

  ‘There’s not a
lot of room, is there?’ he said. ‘Where are you fellows going to sit?’

  Mildew and Sponge looked at each other, then at Kenningworth, then back at each other. There was nothing for it. Despite Kenningworth’s protestations, Mildew and Sponge sat down on his lap and, after making sure the calibrations were correct, Mildew pulled the lever. A flash and a whine and they had arrived.

  ‘Are you sure we are back at the right time?’ said Kenningworth, tipping the boys from his lap.

  ‘Positive,’ said Mildew. ‘I suppose we’d better find the others. They still don’t know what occurred on Pug’s Peak with the teachers.’

  ‘Of course,’ said Sponge.

  They headed for the door, but as they reached it, Kenningworth stopped and hung his head.

  ‘Come on,’ said Mildew. ‘No time to lose.’

  ‘I heard you, you know,’ said Kenningworth without turning round.

  ‘Heard us what?’ said Mildew.

  ‘I heard you say that you’d thought I’d left you behind,’ said Kenningworth.

  ‘Oh,’ said Mildew. ‘Well, we didn’t know what to think.’

  ‘Apart from the worst of me,’ said Kenningworth.

  ‘Sorry, Kenningworth,’ said Mildew. ‘We were wrong.’

  ‘To be fair though you are a bit of a blot,’ said Sponge.

  ‘Yes,’ said Kenningworth, heading out of the door. ‘I suppose I am.’

  Kenningworth suddenly froze. Mildew and Sponge could see why when they stepped forward and looked over his shoulder. There was a familiar white-haired figure standing just outside the bothy.

  ‘Mr Particle,’ said Mildew, stepping in front of the startled Kenningworth.

  So it was Mr Particle who was responsible for the time machine being in the bothy when Mildew, Sponge and Kenningworth found it before their trip to the future.

  ‘Ah,’ he replied a little sheepishly. ‘Mildew … Sponge … Kenningworth. What brings you to the bothy?’

  Kenningworth peered at the physics teacher in fearful astonishment. ‘But you’re dead …’ Mildew quickly slapped his hand over Kenningworth’s mouth. ‘You’re dedicated,’ said Sponge. ‘Ded-icated.’