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The Space Dogs Tricycle Gang: Ariel Hope Chronicles 3

Page 7

by G. P. Moss


  "Then we will have no option but to neutralise both of you now. Gang, arm the laser buttons!"

  Woody Carson screams in ignorant panic.

  "How, Miss?"

  This time, Patricia loses it completely.

  "The button next to the firing button that says, 'arm firing button', you blithering idiot!"

  It is too late.

  With the blithering and the dithering, Damien and Pedro have manoeuvred into attack positions, either side of Beta Zero.

  This time, Damien's voice is cool, like a chilled cola in the midst of an ozone inspired heatwave.

  "This is your last and final warning, Patricia."

  Her voice pings back, shaky, crisp, and brittle as an autumn leaf delaying its fall.

  "Last and final are the same thing; which one is it?"

  These desperate delay tactics do not faze the former Whistler hero turned persona non grata zero.

  "Heed both excellent and relevant words, I tell you. We are honouring our commitment for having our fighter ships repaired; I suggest you honour yours."

  "But you have given us nothing in return!"

  "Without us, you will never navigate the vast and brutal cosmos, safely or successfully."

  "Hahaha, I have detailed maps showing vast star systems!"

  "Ha! Those maps only contain what the telescopes and rovers see. There are myriads of criss crossing warp hole wormholes, hidden to all but experienced adventurers!"

  "Fine. Gang, hands off your buttons. Once out of the hole, beware of friendly fire."

  "Much better, thank you Patricia,” Damien says, unsure whether he is relieved or disappointed at the peaceful outcome.

  Patricia flips the interconnecting intercom switch, turning off the direct link with the fighter ships.

  "Gang, ignore what I just said."

  She turns it back on, smiling the wicked smile of a thousand jagged smiles.

  Huckleberry Clifton raises an arm.

  One of his own, thankfully.

  Patricia does not appreciate the distraction.

  “What is it now, Huckleberry?”

  “Just a small, motivational gang speech, at the edge of the precipice.”

  “Oh, for crying out loud, do you have to be so dramatic?”

  Huckleberry ignores her.

  “My dear, fellow Space Dogs Tricycle Gang and chief whip, Patricia. We may face great numbers of fearsome foes as we tumble from the warp hole wormhole abyss and this is to be expected, for as Isaac Newton said, many, many, moons ago in a galaxy far, far away...”

  “Same galaxy, you dramatic fool!”

  Huck’s unfazed by her rudeness.

  “...For every action, there is an equal and opposite reaction.”

  “Hurry up, we are about to set off!”

  “...We are up to the task to make our mammas proud!”

  Billy Duke’s impressed.

  “I never knew you were a physics, er, er, physics worker, Huck!”

  “A physicist, alas my noble gang leader, no, I am not. My mother was an astrophysicist in the Milky Way galaxy.”

  “He means on Earth, you gullible fools!”

  The Duke gives her the ‘look’.

  “So, how come you didn’t follow in her glorious footsteps, eh? Eh?!”

  “Alas, fine and dear comrades in arms, it was beer and sausages stole me away from a promising future. Take heed of my comradely message, everyone and, good luck to all who sail in her.”

  “What?”

  “What?”

  “What?”

  Damien’s clear, crisp voice clatters through the space between them.

  “Take my angle and speed. We are going in, NOW!”

  The 3 spaceships roll, dive, climb and drop as they’re hurtled through the time and space bending shortcut to Minstrels.

  This time, however, Damien and Pedro notice something different.

  Behind them follows a cutting, brutal, icy wind.

  Chapter Fourteen

  Minstrels galaxy

  Alex is concerned that Beta 2 is not keeping up.

  “Ariel, you need to be closer; for sure there’s debris being blown from Blue Ghost’s hit and run on Magnificent.”

  “But that was ages ago; surely it will have dissipated by now.”

  “You would think so, for sure but the way it grabs, it smashes planets up pretty bad so the debris can be unpredictable.”

  “Alex, I’ll try to keep up but I’m being blown about back here. Also, have you noticed a change? I mean, there’s a white blue tinge now and the temperature is dropping rapidly.”

  “Shiver me timbers, matey!”

  “Harry, take the pirate hat off.”

  “Sorry, Ariel.”

  “And the parrot off your shoulder.”

  Harriet flips them off, adding hair flicks and lip pouts, like a method actor in a hurry.

  “How are the engine ports, Harry? And lose the eye patch.”

  “They are holding up but there is ice forming on the cruiser’s outer shell.”

  “Let me know if it becomes critical, Harry.”

  “Alex, where is this extreme weather coming from?”

  “Ah for sure I haven’t seen it this bad before. There are legends though.”

  “Would you like to share them with me?”

  “I heard that after a planet grab, sometimes there will be vicious ice storms, sweeping through galaxies, cleaning debris, and freezing everyone’s bits off.”

  This news disturbs Ariel.

  A galactic understatement.

  “But you don’t know for sure if the legends are based on fact?”

  “Ah, for sure I believed my old grandfather when he told me. And he was sound of mind, for sure he was.”

  Ariel needs to check on Beta 4.

  “Stevie, keep an eye on engine and outer shell ice build up; it’s getting extremely cold out there.”

  A barrage of rocks and compressed dust suddenly sideswipes Beta 2.

  “Harry, damage report, please; quick as you can! Poppy, check the interior, as much as you’re able.”

  “Yes, ma’am.”

  Alex’s concerned voice slams through the interconnecting intercom.

  “Ariel, you’re drifting too far away. You’re heading for the freighter lanes again!”

  “Alex, I’m trying to counter but the debris is shoving me!”

  Stevie turns his cruiser.

  “Ariel, I’m following you in.”

  “Stevie, get out of here; there’s no point both of us in trouble!”

  “Negative, Ariel; I’m not leaving you.”

  Yvette agrees.

  “That’s my brave heroic boy!”

  *

  A strange voice batters its way through to Ariel’s cockpit.

  “Get out of the way! You are in a Longface freighter lane. Get lost, you are slowing us down!”

  Ariel remains as cool as a cucumber.

  Correctly chilled.

  Unlike the icy blasts now battering them.

  “This is Captain Ariel Hope of Beta 2. I apologise for straying into your lanes but I was thrown here by space debris.”

  “You will move or you will become space dust!”

  Stevie Lo has heard enough. He purposefully puts Beta 4 in the freighter lanes.

  “Ah, another fool who is about to meet his doom and gloom!”

  Stevie’s unruffled.

  “Be calm, my lovely,” calls Yvette in her lovely sing song voice.

  Stevie ignores the endearing message but he plans to return to its loveliness later.

  Once he’s silenced this Longface bully.

  “There is no need for this at all. Captain Hope has explained the reason; we shall be on our way shortly.”

  “Ah, so you want to fight to show Captain Ariel what a man you are, eh? Eh?! By all accounts, from what I have heard, she is quite the warrior. Ah, yes, the legend of Minstrels Gate. Yes, yes, quite the legend already. But you lot are no match for me. It is
a well known, and occasionally documented fact we do not suffer fools straying into our freighter lanes. I shall dock near your cruiser and come aboard for compensation instead.”

  “Please, just let us pass. We have nothing on here to interest you.”

  “I am Larry Longface; everything interests me!”

  “If I let you have some provisions, then will you let us pass?”

  “Yes, yes, that should be fine. I am docking now.”

  Ariel is unsure about this.

  “Stevie, you do not have to do this, putting yourselves in danger.”

  There is no answer as Stevie heads to meet Larry Longface.

  He can already sense trouble but finds it difficult to read the unwelcome visitor’s mind.

  At the docking door, Stevie meets an enormously tall alien with a very long face.

  Figures.

  Dressed in luxurious furry clothing, he looks like a vicious space pirate.

  Which, I suppose, he is.

  Stevie holds out his hand.

  Larry Longface swipes it away in derision and impatience.

  “Where is my prize? Quickly, before the ice storms claim us all!”

  “I shall bring you some food.”

  “Oh, no you don’t! I want the sing songy lovely lady you have here. That, my heroic little Earth man, is my price for your unfettered departure from the Longface freighter lanes!”

  Stevie feels the hackles rise.

  It can mean only one thing.

  As Larry Longface roughly shoves him aside, the fake merchant probable pirate begins his search for Yvette.

  As Stevie shimmers, his body burning with pain during his inevitable transformation, he emits a growl, frightening enough to stop Larry Longface stone still in his tracks.

  “What the...?”

  Stevie launches at the Longface, tearing the furs off his shocked body, his huge fangs releasing and heading for the alien’s long neck.

  “Stop, please, Stevie! He has learnt his lesson now.”

  The shaking alien looks in horror to the wolf, growling and slavering just a few inches from his long face.

  “You...” he whispers, terror constricting his long throat.

  “You are a vicious Shifter! I cannot compete with this monstrous show of paranormal activity! I shall disappear, peacefully, at once, and allow you safe passage. If you spare my life, that is!”

  Yvette may be a lovely sing songy lady but she’s as tough as they come and shows no fear.

  Having a wolf nearby is helpful.

  “If he kills you, we shall be free anyway. I give you a single warning, which you may share with your lot back home if you wish. On this occasion, we shall show mercy, even though you have acted in a most abhorrent manner. Now go, and never bother us again, and that includes whether or not we stray into your freighter lanes!”

  The plucky little Shifter bird has not finished yet.

  “And do not even think about firing on us once you stick your long neck back inside your freighter; all our ships’ weapons are pointed straight at you!”

  As Larry Longface slinks off back through the docking door, he is followed by the electric red, watchful eyes of Stevie Lo, wolf extraordinaire.

  *

  Yvette returns to the cockpit to allow Stevie to change back to human form in peace.

  “Captain Ariel, you are free to go; I will follow now.”

  “Thank you, Yvette; great job.”

  As Ariel manoeuvres into the thankfully debris-free space, she exhales, a long breath of relief and gratitude.

  Alex is also relieved as Betas 2 and 4 finally catch up.

  “Do you think you can keep up now, Ariel?”

  “Haha, very funny; now that was not our fault!”

  Harry breaks the jovial mood.

  “Ariel, the ice will cause a problem soon; it is building up near the ventilation ports.”

  “Isn’t there some way we can get anti-freeze to the area?”

  “I am afraid not, Ariel. A design flaw, for sure.”

  Alex’s optimism breaks through the problematic atmosphere in Beta 2’s cockpit.

  “You should have anti-freeze on board. Get the Magitech droids to apply it outside.”

  Ariel looks taken aback.

  “They can do that?”

  “Why not? One of their advantages is external repair work mid-flight.”

  “I think I can set them up,” Poppy says, helpfully.

  Ariel smiles, for the first time today.

  “Magitech droids; wow, who would have thought?!”

  Chapter Fifteen

  Planet Bump Minor

  As Percy observes the raging dust storms and following icy winds, his helpful, blagging, opportunistic brain spots a new sales opening with Mr Whistler.

  Why not maximise profit while the tyrant is still on Bump Minor?

  “Sir, I would stay here at least until these storms die down.”

  “Ah, nonsense, young Percy; where is your sense of adventure eh? Eh?!”

  “Sir, the paintwork on your majestic Raven Blue Class 1 will suffer untold damage if exposed to this cosmic madness!”

  “Ah yes, you have a point there! Are you sure you are not just keeping me here to extract more Sparkling Minerals? Eh, boy? Eh, eh?!”

  “Mr Whistler, Sir, you are absolutely correct. There is nothing to keep you here any longer. May I make a small suggestion though, before you leave?”

  Mr Whistlers eyes narrow, his top lip curls, and the opposite eyebrow threatens to touch the raging sky.

  “What sales trickery is this, eh?!”

  “No trickery at all, Sir. I just have a splendid idea, that is all, to protect your glorious Raven Blue paintwork from the unpredictable, and frankly horrendous conditions out there. Have you heard of a Magitech droid?”

  “Of course I have. That crazy fool, Magnificent Spiky Mike makes them. Or, did make them. All gone now, of course, along with his planet.”

  Percy’s eyes open as wide as saucers.

  Small ones, but bigger than in a doll’s house.

  “What happened to Magnificent, Sir?”

  “I heard, erm, from a reliable source that Ghost Blue likely claimed the 5 planets near Minstrels Gate. So, no more Magitechs.”

  For the moment, Percy could not care less about Magitechs.

  “My scheming, thieving cousin, Alex, is fond of playing around that area. In fact, it would not surprise me if he was trying to sell my chips there.”

  “Well, haha, sorry to say but he will be there no longer.”

  Percy grins the grin of a thousand lopsided, twisted grins.

  No more competition.

  Forget about the piece of space junk they co-owned, and the few measly chips of theirs he took.

  He has his own spanking new Explorer now and the rest of the chips, including his hidden, stolen ones, are his. Hooray!

  Yes, he really is a proper toe rag.

  But enough of that.

  He is not only a scheming toe rag, he is a top salesman too.

  “Well actually, Mr Whistler, Sir, I happen to have a Magitech droid. It will clear ice and clean paintwork, even as you fly!”

  BOOM! Close that sale!

  Give him something he thinks he needs.

  Make it like he already owns it in his mind’s eye.

  “Not interested, youngster. One more thing to worry about. One more piece of technology to go wrong.”

  “But you have the most technologically advanced spaceship in existence, Sir! Plenty of stuff on there that could go wrong!”

  “Ah, some salesman you are! Hahaha, you just refurbished my ship and now you have the audacity to tell me everything on it can go wrong. Ha! What is this deviousness, eh? Eh?!”

  “My apologies, Sir. The words just came out wrong. Your ship is in tip top condition and carries my 1 Bump Minor week unconditional guarantee, on condition you do not return within a Bump Minor week.”

  “Fair enough, but anyway, I have decided to sta
y here a little while longer, at least until the storm settles.”

  Percy tried anyway but as for sales person of the month? Hero to zero in under a minute.

  Sales tactics aside, he has a new mission. With Alex now permanently out of the way, he only needs to remove his own, ageing father, to gain control of the Council, and ultimately, the planet! He will be the greatest arms dealer ever known!

  As the dust and ice batters the soon to be his planet, Percy gives silent thanks to Ghost Blue for handing him a rare and precious gift on a rare and precious plate. Life is good!

  Chapter Sixteen

  Minstrels Gate

  The 3 spaceships come spinning out of the warp hole wormhole like defective atomic corkscrews.

  It has to be said that Damien and Pedro have emerged in the new galaxy in much better shape than the Space Dogs Tricycle Gang, half of who have left their battle positions in favour of having their straggly straggled heads stuck down the toilet.

  Patricia, being AI, has none of these problems. What she does have, however, is half her less than elite military rag tag bunch of miscreants in a much different and far more useless place than she needs.

  Luckily for everyone, there is no enemy battle fleet to meet and greet with laser weaponry.

  What there is, however, is an icy blast which followed them right through the hole and now whirls, swirls, and curls around them, threatening to turn them into cosmic snow ships.

  Add to this the cloying, clogging, lumpy, clumpy, and sometimes turnip shaped dust clouds, and perhaps an alien fleet may be preferred.

  Damien calls through the interconnecting intercom.

  “This is where the infamous battle took place, where we last saw Ariel Hope, Stevie Lo, and, er, Poppy. 5 or 6 cruisers attacked us; I’m unsure exactly how many. The battle was confusing and fierce.”

  Patricia answers in her usual, unfriendly way.

  “I am only interested in revenge on the StarTapped people who left me on Earth. I am not concerned for your personal vendettas.”

  Damien bats it back, clean as they come.

  “Ariel Hope can lead you to StarTapped; they must be in touch.”

  “Very well, but where do we go from here?”

  That decision is taken out of their hands as a huge wall of sand, debris, and following ice slams into the trio, sending them crashing through Frelsh’s atmosphere.

  *

  Ice balls the size of overstuffed armchairs batter Beta Zero into free falling submission, its occupants thrown violently around with such force as to flatten several of the gangs' noses.

 

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