“What’s all this about?” he demanded. “What are you up to?”
“My husband,” answered Holly, straightening up and looking down at Tod, “has invented a new type of rocket. It can go farther and faster than any rocket ever before.”
Stanley nodded with more modesty than he felt.
“And,” continued his wife, “he has also discovered a new planet.” She beamed with pride. “He’s named it Petunia. Because that’s my middle name.”
The white coat standing nearest to Tod raised her eyebrows.
“Should be Bossyboots really,” she muttered under her breath.
“I calculate that this new planet’s a lot like Earth,” said the Professor, ignoring the white coat. “Florida, actually. But before I can be sure, I need to conduct some survival experiments. Using live species, of course.”
“That was why we wanted your sheep,” added Holly. “The Professor has devised a number of data-gathering tasks, which the creatures he sends must complete before they’re allowed food. He needs animals that are bright but not too bright.”
Stanley was nodding in agreement as he checked dials on the machines. His wife was managing to explain his amazingly complex work in quite simple terms. He almost liked her for a moment.
“It’s a pity about your sheep,” he said with a shrug. “The instruments we attached to their ears were highly advanced. They’d have transmitted some very useful information and pictures.”
“Never mind, darling.” Holly was almost jigging up and down with excitement. Stanley had never seen her so…unHolly-like. “The world is about to be amazed,” she declared. “Professor Stanley Boomberg, my husband, will be hailed as the greatest egghead in the universe!”
“Egghead, dear?” questioned the Professor, with a pained smile.
“Sorry, darling. Scientific genius.”
“You’re mad,” gasped Tod.
“Nothing wrong with being mad,” said Stanley. “So long as you’re right.”
“Lots of people have called my husband mad,” said Holly, doing a little twirl. “All the scientists he’s ever worked with called him mad. But they’re merely jealous, because they haven’t discovered the new Florida. Tomorrow he will be famous. I will be famous. The name Boomberg will be famous.” She held a finger poised over a button on the arm of Tod’s chair. “May I?” she asked.
The Professor nodded indulgently. Holly pressed the button. The glass wall between the smaller room and the main chamber slid open, and both chairs began to move. The people in white coats looked up from their screens and clapped as the chairs carried Gran and Tod smoothly toward the covered cone shape beyond the computers.
“You can’t send my gran into space!” yelled Tod.
Holly was walking proudly beside his moving chair and he grabbed her arm fiercely.
“Send me, but let Gran go! She’s too old.”
“She might enjoy Petunia,” cooed Holly. “Lots of people retire to Florida. And you’d better get used to it too.” She shook her arm free and gave Tod’s hand a little pinch. “Did we forget to tell you? The rocket can only carry enough fuel to get there. It will never come back.”
The chairs came to a halt. Peering down, Tod saw that they had reached the edge of a deep shaft. He could now see that the cone shape wasn’t actually sitting on the cavern floor at all. It was joined to a tubular body that descended into the shaft. Its base was somewhere far below. What he was facing was just the tip of the tube: the nose cone of a huge space rocket. Short metal walkways bridged the gap between the cavern floor and the cloth-draped cone.
Tod gulped and looked upward. The dome-shaped roof of the cavern had completely rolled back now, and he could see a perfect circle of blue sky directly above the rocket.
Stanley smiled over Tod’s head at his wife.
“Tell the guys to skip a few thousand from the countdown, dear,” he said. “Let’s breathe some fire.”
“Let’s breathe some fire!” shouted Holly into a nearby microphone. “Let’s Boom!”
25
Oxo’s Last Charge
The warriors had been trotting in single file through rocky tunnels for what seemed like hours. They were all nervous underground and wishing they could see the burning sun instead of the dim ceiling lights.
Wills hoped against hope that they wouldn’t round a narrow corner and come face to face with Red Tongue. They would have to do battle with him one by one, and he didn’t fancy their chances in that situation.
“Ohmygrass,” whispered Jaycey. “I can hear something…”
They stopped to listen. Somewhere ahead of them a voice, not quite human, was intoning numbers:
“Two hundred and ninety-nine…Two hundred and ninety-eight…Two hundred and ninety-seven…”
Sal gulped in horror. “Is that it counting?” she asked. “As it eats the poor sheep it’s captured?”
They peered into the dimness of the tunnel. A hot, burning smell now filled their nostrils and someone or something was roaring.
“Ohmygrass…ohmygrass,” whimpered Jaycey. “Have we got to go on?”
“Sure smells like the breath of the Red Tongue dude…” muttered Links.
Then there was another sound.
“Grannnnnn!” Tod’s anguished wail echoed along the tunnel.
“That sounded human, eh,” said Links, his eyes wide and scared.
“It sounded like Tod,” said Wills. “But it couldn’t be. He’s safe back home in Eppingham.” He shook his head, trying to think clearly. “Well, Sal…do we go on?”
“Are we warriors?” Sal cried.
She squeezed past the others to the front and marched on down the tunnel. Links brought up the rear. He was just as frightened as the rest, but his voice rang out boldly.
“Red Tongue, you said to remember your name,
Now the time has come to finish your game.
We was called out here by the Songs of the Fleece,
And until you’s gone we won’t get no peace…”
Not far from the marching warriors, in the huge cavern now open to the sky, Tod and Gran could do nothing but stare at the little ceremony that was taking place. Tod was silent now after his shout of despair. The Professor, with an excited gleam in his eye, was about to cut the cord holding the white cloth over the rocket’s nose.
“Ready?” he asked. “It’s going to be a big surprise.”
Holly nodded. She rather hoped her husband had painted her face on the rocket’s nose cone. How wonderful that would be. Holly Petunia Boomberg, immortalized as her image sped heavenward.
“I’m ready, dear,” she said.
The Professor cut the cord and the cloth was whisked away. Holly had to bite her lip again to hide her disappointment. Bite it very hard. Stanley didn’t notice.
“Isn’t it fantastic?” he said, above the polite applause from the watching white coats.
The rocket had been painted to look like a fierce dog’s head, with bloodshot eyes, drawn-back ears, and a black nose. The jaws, which were wide open, formed a doorway into the rocket. Looking into the darkness beyond the doorway was like looking into the mouth of a gigantic hound. Two rows of sharp white teeth had been painted inside the doorway, one at the top and one at the bottom, and beneath it lolled a huge painted red tongue.
“I’m a great football fan,” explained the Professor, leaning down to talk to Tod. “The Prairie Dogs, you know? I thought it would be kind of nice for Red Tongue to be way up there, looking down on the Rams.” He checked his wrist computer. “This is it,” he said, stepping back from the chairs. “Come on, honey, stand away now.”
The chairs, with Tod and Ida strapped in place, slid across the bridge over the deep shaft, and through the narrow door into the nose cone.
At that moment, the warriors emerged from the end of their long, winding tunn
el. They stood blinking in the sudden daylight. The smell of burning choked their lungs.
“At last,” whispered Sal. “Red Tongue!”
“Ohmygreengreengrass…Look at the size of him,” wailed Jaycey.
“And that’s only his head,” growled Oxo.
“I can sure smell his stinkin’ breath now!” cried Links.
Wills blinked and shook his head. This didn’t look like a monster dog to him, but there was no chance to check.
“Your slaughtering days are over, mate!” yelled Oxo. “One for five and five for Red Tongue!”
“Red Tongue…Red Tongue…Red Tongue…!” they all screamed.
Oxo pawed the ground. “Wait for it…” He lowered his great head. “Charge!”
The warriors thundered toward the rocket’s nose cone, their heads down, their hearts on fire. Their heads all hit it at once and the cone wobbled slightly.
“And again!” cried Oxo, backing up rapidly, forgetting his earlier experience of falling tail first down a very deep hole. “Charge!”
The sheep thundered into the nose cone again.
Panic had erupted amongst the humans on the other side of the cone. They came running.
“You said they were dead!” shouted Stanley, as a sheep hurtled past his legs.
“Must I take the blame for everything?” screamed back Holly, racing after the warriors. “Just catch them, you stupid egghead!”
But she was on her own.
“One hundred and fifty-three…”
Stanley heard the countdown, glanced at his wrist computer, and ran back the other way. The rest of the white coats followed his example.
Oxo was in mid-charge when Holly threw herself at him, taking him by surprise. He turned to butt and bite, but she was mad with rage, fury giving her the strength of ten men. She managed to turn him on his back and made for the nose-cone door, dragging the struggling ram with her.
“One hundred and thirty-nine…”
“Excellent,” panted Holly, shoving the kicking but near-helpless ram in beside the astronauts’ chairs. “Sheep as well. A perfect ending.”
She turned to back out of the capsule, only to find her perfect ending turning suddenly imperfect: Tod had wriggled half-free of his chair harness. He grabbed her hair, pulling her back inside.
“Abort the takeoff!” he shouted. “Tell them to stop or you’re coming with us!”
As she tried to free herself, Holly was aware of the capsule door hissing shut. Beyond, in the control room, the countdown continued despite the sudden unscientific turn of events.
“Professor! Do we abort?” cried the white coats.
Professor Boomberg gazed at the confused pictures being relayed from inside the capsule and shook his head.
“No. Raise the heat shield.”
“But your wife’s in there, sir!”
“It’s the way she’d have wanted to go…” murmured the Professor.
And he couldn’t resist a smile.
The other warriors hadn’t seen Staple Gun Woman throw herself at Oxo. Their heads had been down for the next charge. All they saw was the great ram disappearing into the jaws of the great dog.
“Ohmygrass…” wailed Jaycey. “Red Tongue’s eaten Oxo!”
“Nineteen…Eighteen…Seventeen…”
“Another charge…” cried Sal. “For Oxo’s sake!”
The warriors reversed rapidly, then lowered their heads like the fighting machine that they were, and waited for the word from Sal. None of them saw the heat shield, a thick wall of tinted glass, begin to rise out of the floor.
“Charge!” Sal tried to sound like Oxo, proud and strong.
They all crashed painfully into the heat shield.
Inside the capsule, Oxo had squirmed upright. He stared around.
“It’s not what I expected a dog’s insides to look like,” he muttered.
Then he saw Tod and Ida as well as a yelping Staple Gun Woman, and he gave up thinking. Tod and Ida! It was all too confusing. He leaned sideways and bit Staple Gun Woman’s bottom.
“That’s for the itchy ear,” he said.
26
Boom
The other warriors staggered to their hooves, their heads spinning from their collision with the heat shield. Wills looked round and saw Staple Gun Woman’s man standing in front of a great bank of computers.
“Seven…Six…Five…”
Wills didn’t know why, but he felt sure that when the counting got down to zero, something very bad would happen.
“Charge!” he cried, and raced away from the heat shield.
He was aiming at the white coats now, and one particular pair of dirty trousers. His head made contact, but on his own he wasn’t big enough to knock a grown man over.
“You may be smart sheep,” said the trouser-wearer, with a smug little smile, “but you’re too late. It’s Boom Day for Boomberg!”
“Two…One…Lift off!”
Beyond the tinted heat shield, the rocket that was Red Tongue was already rising. Flames shot from its tail. The noise was deafening. The sheep cowered away, fearful that their fleeces really would scorch in this hottest of all winds.
Inside the capsule, a different noise was bouncing off the walls. Tod had got out of his harness and released Gran, and between them they’d overpowered Holly and forced her into one of the chairs. She was bellowing angrily.
“Let me go!” she yelled. “And get that smelly creature away from me! It’s all his fault!”
Oxo was leaning against her legs, having an exploratory nibble at one of her shoes.
“Not until you tell us where the eject button is!” shouted Gran.
Oxo sat down heavily on Holly’s feet and made himself comfortable. This shoe was going to take a bit of concentrated chewing.
“On the wall beside you!” yelled Holly. “The red one! Now get him off my feet!”
Tod spun round, saw a large red button and punched it. Instantly, it began to flash. At the same moment, a sign started to flash on the Professor’s bank of computer screens.
ASTRONAUT REQUESTS EJECT. CONFIRM: YES OR NO.
“No way…” breathed the Professor. “No way…” And he leaned over to press the NO button.
Wills wasn’t exactly sure about the word “eject,” but he had an idea it had something to do with throwing things out. Ida used to eject the hens from the barn when she wanted to clean it. Maybe he could get Oxo thrown out of Red Tongue’s stomach. He bounced lightly on his toes, in a way that only a lamb can do, then sprang onto the computer control desk.
“Get off!” screamed the Professor.
But Wills lowered his head and managed to smack it into the YES button just before the Professor shoved him angrily aside.
The noise and heat of the rocket launching were fading, and as the tinted heat shield gradually sank back into the floor, the white coats hurried from their computers.
With a snarl at Wills, the Professor followed them. They all peered upward, shading their eyes, through the open dome of the cavern. The warriors followed.
“I’m sorry,” said Wills miserably. “I thought that might work…I thought that might save Oxo.”
Sal gave him a little lick. “Red Tongue’s eaten Oxo, dear,” she said. “We can’t get him back.”
The rocket was still rising steadily. It glinted in the blue sky; its heat trail was now a distant flicker. The white coats jumped up and down and cheered. They queued up to shake the Professor’s hand. He looked relieved. He looked elated.
Then suddenly, as the sheep stared, they saw Red Tongue’s head fall off. The whole head separated from the body and began to float back to earth under what Wills hastily told them was a parachute. The white coats had seen it too. They stopped cheering. A deadly hush fell over the launch site. Everyone’s eyes were fixed.<
br />
Then it happened. The rest of the rocket turned sharply sideways. It zigzagged wildly across the cloudless blue sky before spiraling downward to earth. The warriors all felt the impact as Red Tongue, minus its head, crashed with an almighty explosion somewhere out in the desert.
Professor Boomberg finally broke the stunned silence.
“Open the gate,” he ordered in a flat voice.
As the white coats scurried off, he looked down at the sheep for a moment or two and shook his head.
“If only I’d insisted on rats…” he murmured.
The warriors stood in shocked silence until the humans had gone. Then Links spoke.
“Red Tongue’s finished, guys,” he said. “Butted right out of sheepdom.”
“Ohmygrass,” said Jaycey. “Wediditwediditwedidit…”
“The Songs of the Fleece are never wrong!” cried Sal.
They quickly trotted after the Professor, through the great man-made cavern and out of a sliding steel door that had opened in the hillside. The smoking ruins of Red Tongue’s body lay in the distance. But much closer, and still floating gently down beneath its parachute, was the evil dog’s head.
As the capsule hit the ground, Holly’s seat jolted forward and smashed into Oxo, who was still sitting on her feet, chewing a nicely softened shoe. His head cracked against the capsule wall. Then Holly’s harness sprang open. So did the door. Holly scrambled to her feet, leaving her shoes behind. She trod on Oxo’s limp body and, barging past Tod and Gran, leapt out of the capsule—straight into a patch of very prickly pears. She hopped away on her bare feet, pushing aside the warriors as they plowed past in the opposite direction.
Links scrabbled up into the capsule and the others squeezed in behind him. Tod and Ida were standing there, gazing down at Oxo. His eyes were shut and he lay perfectly still. The sheep gave Tod and Ida a nod as they edged through to their fallen friend.
It was as the sheep had expected. Links poked Oxo with his nose.
“He’s dead, eh,” he announced.
Sal choked back her tears.
The Warrior Sheep Go West Page 12
