Astrosaurs 18

by Steve Cole

  “At least they aren’t snarling any more,” said Gipsy quietly.

  “Perhaps that sudden stop hurt whoever’s on board,” said Iggy.

  “Or perhaps it’s a trick,” said Teggs. He tried again. “Lightning Bolt, please respond. If you do not, we will come on board and steer your vessel back to the Vegetarian Sector of Dinosaur Space.”

  Again, there was no reply.

  Teggs turned to a small, bright dimorphodon named Dactil. “Dactil, I’m leaving you in charge.”

  “Ker-chup!” said Dactil proudly, hopping into the control pit.

  “Sprite, Iggy, Gipsy – get your fight gear on.” Teggs clenched his fists. “We’re going to take a shuttle to the Lightning Bolt – and we’d better be ready for anything!”

  Minutes later, Gipsy had put on her combat suit, Iggy was wearing his trusty stun-claws and Teggs was good to go in full battle-armour. The three friends found Sprite waiting for them on board the shuttle. He was wearing weapon-wings and a beak-blaster and looked very cool. “Chirp!”

  Teggs smiled at Iggy. “That’s dimorphodon-speak for ‘BLAST OFF!’”

  The four astrosaurs held on tight as the shuttle shot away towards the tarnished tin hulk of the long-lost Lightning Bolt. Compared to the Sauropod it looked a real wreck. Sprite steered them alongside the old ship’s launch bay and a docking tube bound the two ships together.

  Cautiously, Teggs led the way to the Lightning Bolt’s launch-bay door. It opened stiffly with a long, protesting creak. “Stay close, guys,” he whispered as a musty animal smell struck his nostrils. Squinting into the gloom, Teggs tensed himself for trouble.

  And a split-second later, he found it.

  “ROARRRR!” A snarling shriek rang out as the lights snapped on – to reveal a huge, sandy-yellow cat monster. Its body was crammed with meaty muscles, its heavy paws bristled with claws and its amber eyes were narrowed in hatred. But it was the creature’s teeth that held Teggs transfixed: they curved down from its mouth like giant vampire fangs and looked sharp enough to chomp through steel.

  “Look out!” yelled Teggs. “There’s some sort of sabre-toothed tiger-monster on board!”

  The killer cat pounced towards him, snarling and drooling. Thinking fast, the stegosaur turned and swung his electro-tipped tail like a baseball bat. THWUMP – bzzzzzz! Blue sparks crackled around the attacking animal as Teggs thwacked it into the wall. But a moment later the cat was up again, ready to slash Teggs’s side with its terrifying claws.

  Then Sprite swooped overhead, his beak-blaster spitting bright blue laser bolts. The big cat swiped the air, distracted – and Iggy let rip with his stun-claws, shocking the sabre-tooth into submission.

  “I’m going in,” called Teggs. “That thing might have been holding the crew prisoner.” He kicked open the next door and advanced through a cold, rusty corridor into a gloomy chamber. A gigantic juddering generator dominated the space, its battered bulk half-buried beneath a spaghetti of wires and cables.

  “This must be the ship’s power room,” said Gipsy.

  Iggy nodded. “All heat and light on board comes from this rickety old thing.” He patted the generator and frowned. “Strange – the engines have been rigged to run on electricity instead of dung.”

  “I don’t suppose one big cat makes enough poo to power a spaceship for three hundred years,” said Teggs.

  Sprite squeaked a warning as two more sabre-toothed cats burst into the power room from the doors opposite.

  “Or even three big cats,” said Teggs as the creatures growled and grunted and pawed the air. “Er, maybe we should get back to the shuttle.”

  The astrosaurs edged back towards the door they’d just come through – but then the first cat smashed through it, angrier than ever.

  Gipsy’s head-crest flushed bright blue with alarm. “We’re trapped!”

  Chapter Four

  A VOICE FROM THE PAST

  Teggs backed away towards the generator – then waggled his hands and blew a raspberry at the sabre-tooths. “Come on then, you miserable moggies!” he jeered. “See what a stegosaurus tastes like!”

  Enraged, the three cats ignored the other astrosaurs and charged straight at Teggs. But at the last minute he dived clear! The cats couldn’t stop in time and smashed into the old generator . . .

  KA-TZZZZZZ! All three were consumed in white sparks and their skeletons flashed through their fur like x-rays. The wires and cables started smoking and the lights flickered off and on again. Finally, the felines fell and flopped to the ground in front of the smoking machine.

  Iggy quickly checked the damaged generator. “Life support systems still work, but the engines are completely kaput,” he said. “This ship’s going nowhere – ever again.”

  “Nor are these sabre-tooths,” said Gipsy grimly, crouched beside the giant cats. “They’re dead! The shock must have killed them.”

  “Dead?” Teggs felt sad and shaken. “I . . . I didn’t mean for that to happen.” He felt the biggest cat’s neck for a pulse, but all he found was a small gold disc burned into the skin. “Looks like some sort of name tag. This one’s name was Fangal.”

  Gipsy checked the others. “This one was Kerr and this one Clawdio.”

  Sprite flapped down and perched beside Fangal – then cheeped as the cat’s chest began to rise and fall again.

  “You’re right, Sprite,” said Teggs in amazement. “She’s alive!”

  Gipsy checked the other furry forms. “I don’t believe it! Kerr and Clawdio have come back to life too.”

  “That’s freaky,” said Iggy. “It’s like they just . . . switched themselves back on.”

  “They’re still pretty weak,” Teggs observed. “I wonder if this ship has a sick bay.”

  Iggy nodded. “If I remember the layout of these old Dungmasters, it should be on the next level up.”

  “Take our feline friends there and strap them in so they can’t hurt us – or themselves,” said Teggs. “Sprite, give him a helping wing. Gipsy, we have to get to the flight deck and find out who’s been flying this crate. Then we’ll try towing it back to Outpost Q.”

  Iggy and Sprite gingerly hauled away Fangal, while Gipsy walked with Teggs along corridors that smelled of dust and decay.

  “Where d’you think those sabre-tooths came from, sir?” she asked.

  “Maybe the Jurassic Explorers kept them as pets!” Teggs joked. But inside he was worried. Where had the mysterious cats come from? What was their secret?

  The flight deck was gloomy, with only a few bulbs working in the rusty ceiling. There was cat fur everywhere. Teggs and Gipsy inspected the ancient controls.

  “This looks like a life-sign scanner.” Gipsy picked up a dusty grey box.

  “You know, for telling the captain how many crew are on board and where they all are, in case of emergency.” She pressed a switch and the box’s screen flickered. Two green dots showed in the middle.

  “That must be us,” said Teggs. Further down the scanner, two more green dots popped into life beside three red blobs. “Different life-types must show in different colours. The green blobs must be Iggy and Sprite, reptiles like us.”

  “Which means the red blobs are the cats.” Gipsy spoke into her communicator. “Iggy, this is Gipsy – how are things?”

  “Not too hairy,” Iggy reported. “We’ve got all three of our friends strapped into medical couches, but the auto-doctor must be playing up. It says that the cats are fit and healthy – but over three hundred years old!”

  Teggs frowned. “That’s impossible.”

  “They certainly didn’t attack like old-age pensioners!” Gipsy agreed.

  “Keep an eye on them, Ig,” said Teggs. “We’ll try and find out more here.”

  “Look, Captain!” Gipsy sat down in front of a dusty computer with a camera built in. “A message recorder. All announcements sent by the Lightning Bolt were recorded here in sound and pictures.” She pressed a few buttons. “Looks like the last entry was recorded
276 years ago . . .”

  Teggs tingled with excitement. “Can you put it on the screen?”

  Gipsy fiddled with some buttons and then she and Teggs jumped as the image of a dark-green flesh-eating dinosaur flashed up on the screen. Bands of fuzz and static could not hide the beast’s huge teeth and claws – nor the deep wounds scoring its scaly cheek.

  “A carnivore!” Gipsy flinched instinctively. “Then meat-eaters must’ve attacked the Lightning Bolt.”

  “Not necessarily,” Teggs reassured her.

  “Quite a few of the Jurassic Explorers were carnivores. In those days space wasn’t split down the middle between veggies and meat-munchers as it is now. We worked together more.” He leaned forward keenly. “This one looks like a dryptosaurus – a distant cousin of T. rex. Let’s hear what he has to say.”

  Gipsy hit a switch and the image jerked into life. “This is Deputy Leader Alson of Jurassic Exploration eleven-two-four-six-nine . . .” The creature’s gruff growl filled the dusty old control room; it was hard to believe he’d spoken these words centuries ago. “Attacked . . . giant animals with fangs . . . terrible weapons . . .” Suddenly both sound and picture dissolved into a fuzzy blur.

  Teggs groaned. “What’s wrong?”

  “Their last message was cut off by space static,” Gipsy reminded him. “It’s worn away the tape.”

  “They care about nothing but war,” Alson went on anxiously. “We’re running, but our luck won’t hold for ever . . .” More static bit into the picture. “Never stop chasing us. Can’t go back . . . We will never see home . . .”

  Teggs gasped as he saw a big sabre-toothed cat bound up behind Alson on the screen – and then the picture cut to blackness.

  Gipsy held her stomach queasily. “The tape has snapped. But I think that was the end of the message in any case.”

  “So now we know what happened all those years ago,” Teggs murmured. “Fangal and her friends hunted down and killed the Jurassic Explorers with terrible weapons – then learned how to fly their ship and took it for themselves.”

  Gipsy gulped. “Alson said that all they care about is war.”

  “We’d better warn Iggy and Sprite,” said Teggs. “Those cats are smarter than they seem.” He checked the old ship’s gun turrets and torpedo banks, but they were empty. “No sign of any terrible weapons. Perhaps they’ve been used up . . . or perhaps they’ve been hidden somewhere on board.”

  Suddenly, a loud chime burst from the Lightning Bolt’s old communicator. Gipsy frowned. “It’s a message from Arx back on Outpost Q!”

  “Put him through,” Teggs commanded.

  “Captain, it’s me.” Arx stared out at his friends from the scanner, looking grave. “Jodril has just spotted something through the Megascope – an unknown ship, approaching you from deep space. It’s ignoring all greeting calls and refuses to identify itself.”

  Teggs raised his eyebrows. “Could it be the same flying saucer that the triceratops scout ship saw near Outpost Q?”

  “Possibly, Captain,” said Arx. “We just don’t know. But right now it’s heading straight for the Lightning Bolt – on a collision course!”

  Chapter Five

  BREAKOUT!

  Back on Outpost Q, Arx saw the concern on Teggs and Gipsy’s faces and longed to be with them. Being stuck trillions of miles away in safety was very frustrating.

  “We’d better get back to the Sauropod,”

  Teggs said. “And take our prisoners with us.”

  “Prisoners?” Arx’s horns perked up. “What prisoners?”

  “Are they sabre-tooths?” asked Chief Spotter Speck. He’d been checking the Megascope, but now hurried over to the scanner to address Teggs himself. “I repeat, have you found sabre-toothed cats on board?”

  “Yes, three of them,” Teggs confirmed. “How did you know?”

  Speck looked awkward. “Er – lucky guess.”

  “Very lucky,” said Arx thoughtfully.

  “You must bring them back here,” Speck said. “Quickly!”

  “That’s just what we plan to do,” Teggs assured him. “So long, Arx. Over and out.”

  With a worried nod, Speck turned and hurried back out of the Megascope room.

  “Wait, Chief Spotter,” Arx called, following him as far as the doorway. “There’s an unknown ship approaching the Lightning Bolt, and—”

  But Speck had stormed away down the steps and into the Star Chart Library, closing and locking the door behind him.

  “I thought that room was closed for cleaning,” said Arx.

  “It’s been out of bounds for weeks,” Jodril agreed.

  Arx glared at the locked-up library. “Just how did Speck know there were sabre-tooths on board the Lightning Bolt three hundred years after it vanished?”

  Jodril shrugged helplessly. “Come on – let’s keep an eye on this unmarked ship,” she said. “At the speed it’s going, it should reach your friends within the hour!”

  In the Lightning Bolt’s sick bay, Sprite was pecking at the auto-doctor’s controls while Iggy watched warily. The sabre-tooths lay silent, strapped into their couches as soft bleeps and bloops measured their heart rates and energy levels.

  Iggy jumped as Teggs and Gipsy bundled in, a little out of breath.

  “How are the patients?” asked Teggs. “Or should I say, how are the deadly war-like maniacs?”

  “It looks like they killed the Jurassic Explorers and took their ship,” Gipsy explained.

  “Well, they’re getting stronger all the time.” Iggy shook his head. “I just don’t understand it. They’ve recovered completely from a shock that should’ve killed them. Now they’re just sleeping peacefully.”

  “In that case, we’ll leave the cats here and tow the Lightning Bolt back to Outpost Q with our space-magnets,” said Teggs.

  Iggy frowned. “Why the sudden rush?”

  “Because an unknown ship is speeding our way,” Gipsy told him. “It might be a hostile vessel. We’d better get ready to fight.”

  But even as Gipsy said the word, Fangal burst through the hefty safety straps that bound her to the couch and rolled off with a throaty snarl. She landed on her feet, jaws hanging wide to show off her colossal curving canines, and butted Teggs in the belly. He staggered back against the wall. Then Kerr and Clawdio bit through their own safety straps and pounced straight at Gipsy!

  The hadrosaur dived to the floor and the big cats flew over her, hitting the ground running. They escaped through the open door and hurtled out of sight.

  With a growl, Fangal turned and made for the open door too. Iggy dived forward in a flying tackle, but the sabre-tooth was too quick and he hit the floor with an “Oof!” Sprite raised his weapon-wings and fired stun-beams at Fangal, but the sabre-tooth shrugged off the gunfire and fled after her friends, almost trampling Gipsy as she went.

  “I don’t believe it,” Iggy fumed, helping Gipsy to her feet. “Those creepy cats got away!”

  “There’s no way off this ship apart from our shuttle on Level Zero,” said Teggs, rubbing his stomach. “I guess we can leave the sabre-tooths to roam free until we get to Outpost Q, then call for reinforcements from the DSS.”

  “But what if Fangal and her mates are running to our shuttle now?” said Iggy. “They could be setting a trap for us – or stealing it for themselves.”

  “We found a life-sign scanner on the flight deck,” said Gipsy. “It shows different life-types in different colours. By following the red blobs we can see exactly where Fangal and her two sidekicks have gone.”

  She switched it on and a diagram of the Lightning Bolt’s layout glowed into life. Four green dots appeared first, huddled close together – the astrosaurs in the sick bay. Three red blips showed the sabre-tooths moving quickly through the ship, all the way to the top, where they finally stopped.

  “There,” said Teggs. “Safely out of the way on the top floor.”

  “That’s where the old crew bedrooms would be,” said Iggy.


  “Phew,” said Gipsy. “I guess they can’t do much harm up there . . .”

  But then another red blob appeared on the life-sign scanner. POP! And another, and another, popping up like the screen had a bad case of measles. POP-POP-POP-POP! More and more and more . . .

  “Urp!” squeaked Sprite fearfully.

  Teggs frowned. “Gipsy, is the scanner faulty?”

  “No. I only wish it was.” As the number of red blobs topped thirty she looked gravely at her friends. “Do you remember what happened after the sabre-tooths hit the generator and we thought they were dead?”

  Iggy nodded. “It was like their bodies suddenly started up again. Like they’d woken from a deep, deep sleep.”

  “Exactly,” Gipsy agreed. “And I think Fangal, Kerr and Clawdio just ran upstairs to wake a load of their sleeping friends!”

  “They’ve switched on a whole army of sabre-tooths,” breathed Teggs as more than fifty red blips began zooming back down through the ship towards the sick bay. “And now they’re coming to get us!”

  Chapter Six

  FLIGHT INTO FEAR

  Teggs bundled Iggy, Sprite and Gipsy out of the sick bay. Already he could hear the pound of furry feet on old, cold metal, and the scrape of killer claws. “Sprite, fly to the shuttle as fast as you can and start the engines,” Teggs shouted. “We’ll catch you up as soon as possible.”

  “Come on,” said Iggy as Sprite shot away. “If the sabre-tooths catch us, they’ll tear us to pieces!”

  The astrosaurs pelted along gloomy, run-down corridors as though raptors were biting at their tails. They took the steps down to Level Zero six at a time, hurtling round sharp corners and bouncing off the rusty walls as they sprinted for safety. But behind them, the wails and snarls of the caterwauling cats were growing louder and louder. Teggs risked a backward glance and gasped as the army of sabre-tooths surged into sight round the corner, deadly teeth bared like big bone bananas . . .

  “Faster!” Teggs urged Iggy and Gipsy. “Not much further now . . .”

  The sound of engines rumbling and grumbling greeted them as they entered the launch bay. Iggy led the mad dash into the tube that led to the astrosaurs’ shuttle, and in seconds all three friends had thrown themselves inside. But the rolling thunder of paws and claws was horribly close behind them.