Astrosaurs 21

by Steve Cole

  Unaware of the danger their friends had been facing, Iggy and Gipsy woke in a daze.

  “Ig, where are we?” groaned Gipsy. She was tied up beside him, lying on a filthy metal floor. “What happened to Tute’s car?”

  “We were dragged into the T. rex spaceship, remember?” Iggy banged his bound feet against thick metal bars. “They must have dumped us in their cells.”

  Gipsy saw the bloodstains on the wall and shivered. “At least they didn’t eat us.”

  “Not yet,” came a gruff, biting voice. “Us must question you first!”

  The two astrosaurs twisted round and found an enormous, drooling T. rex in battered space-armour on the other side of the bars. “Allow myself to introduce me – Brigadier Skunch, most feared and hated T. rex warlord in universe.”

  “Never heard of you.” Iggy sniffed and spluttered. “But you didn’t mention you’re also the whiffiest!”

  “Oh, yes! Thank you, me forgot.” Skunch sniffed his armpits with pride. “Now. To business. Us have already melted down your car for scrap. But for you, us have something nastier in mind . . .” He pulled a chunky red gun from his hip holster and aimed it at Iggy. “This is my roast-rifle.”

  “Is it?” Although Gipsy was scared of the huge, drooling brigadier, she was determined not to show it. “How interesting.”

  “See, you is not just my prisoners – you is my evening meal! So while me questions you, me can cook you too.” Skunch narrowed his eyes. “What have you found in the pyramid down there?”

  Iggy winked at Gipsy. “Er . . . what pyramid?”

  “Us KNOW you know about pyramid,” Skunch roared. “Us KNOW that you is astrosaurs, here to guard it.” PZZZZZT! He opened fire.

  “Aargh!” Iggy yelped as his whole body glowed red and started to sizzle. “I’m . . . burning . . .”

  “Leave him alone!” Gipsy snapped. “If you cook us you’ll never get the answers you need.”

  Skunch switched off the rifle. “Lucky for you me also like my food raw,” he hissed.

  Iggy lay gasping in a sweaty heap. “How . . . did you know . . . we were astrosaurs?”

  “Us have spy machines,” Skunch gloated. “Us read Tute the treasure-hunter’s space-mail to Captain Teggs Stegosaur – ‘Come quick, me found T. rex pyramid.’” He narrowed his eyes and growled. “So, now you knows that me knows you knows about pyramid, tell me what you knows or I will EAT your nose – knows what I mean?”

  “Nose,” said Iggy. “I mean, No! We don’t know anything about the pyramid.”

  Skunch aimed his roast-rifle again.

  “It’s true!” cried Gipsy. “You should know that two T. rexes turned up and attacked us before we could get inside.”

  “WHAT?” Skunch bellowed. “What is you on about?”

  “Those two T. rexes covered in bandages,” said Iggy. “I suppose it was their idea of a good disguise for hanging out near a pyramid.”

  “You is a liar,” growled Skunch. “Me not send anyone. Me just arrived.”

  Gipsy looked at Iggy in alarm. “Then if Skunch didn’t send those T. rexes we met . . . they must’ve been real mummies!”

  “You be needing your mummy to cry to,” sneered Skunch, “once my three ships full of extra-angry, super-violent troops start attacking this puny planet.”

  Iggy gulped. “All because of the pyramid?”

  Skunch nodded. “Pyramid retreat here was biggest ever T. rex defeat. Pyramid BAD place. One thousand years ago, great Lord Ganster found it there in the sand. He passed BAD tests to get inside – but something BAD was waiting. It turned Ganster BAD too. He tricked hundreds of T. rexes into rushing inside BAD pyramid – where something BAD happened to them. BAD, BAAAAD, BAAAAAAAAAAAAD!”

  “That’s too bad,” said Iggy.

  “Us . . . ran away.” Skunch shuddered. “But all these years later, us tougher and even meaner and not scared of dumb curses.” He stamped so hard on the floor he left a dent in it. “So – to save the glory of the T. rex race, now pyramid has been found, us will SMASH it to bits!”

  Suddenly – BEEP! – Brigadier Skunch’s communicator, tied tightly around his little arm, lit up.

  “Me got message from troops,” he growled, and held the device to his ear.

  “Ig,” Gipsy hissed. “We left the captain, Arx and Tute trying to get inside the pyramid. They’ll be defenceless when Skunch and his troops attack.”

  Iggy nodded worriedly. “We’ve got to do something!”

  “You WILL do something, you plant-eating plonk-heads.” Skunch swung back round to face them. “You and your friends will fill stomachs at T. rex victory feast!”

  Gipsy swallowed hard. “Pardon?”

  “My troops has been spying on pyramid. They told me your friends has gone inside and not come out again. So, if the BAD something is still there, it will be busy with your friends while us launch surprise attack.” Skunch laughed heartily. “And fighting makes us hungry – so when us finish, us shall eat all plant-eaters on holiday here!”

  Iggy and Gipsy swapped horrified looks.

  “Guards,” Skunch bellowed, “take these plant-eating ploppers to the kitchens.” He licked his lips and leered at the two astrosaurs. “Us shall be winners – and you shall be DINNERS!”

  Chapter Six

  CHILLING CHALLENGES

  Inside the pyramid, Teggs, Arx and Tute were walking carefully through the dark, narrow corridor.

  “I just noticed,” said Tute, looking at his wrist. “My watch has stopped. It’s still showing the time it was when we first went inside this place.”

  “I wonder how long we’ve been here,” said Teggs. “The funny thing is, I’m not at all hungry. That just never happens.”

  “I’ve lost my appetite too.” Arx pointed a few metres ahead of them. “But we’ve found the end of the passage.”

  Tute peered into the gloom and saw another door cut into the stone.

  As they approached, it slid slowly open.

  “What’s waiting for us this time?” Arx wondered.

  As if to answer his question, the room was suddenly flooded with light from a crystal chandelier hanging down from the high ceiling. The room was bigger than the others. Lining its great walls were giant vases, exotic sculptures and beautiful tapestries. But taking Teggs’s attention in the centre of the room was something large and lumpy, hidden beneath a white sheet.

  “What’s that?” Arx whispered. “Another robot?”

  “There’s only one way to find out.” Teggs led the way slowly into the room, and hooked one of his tail spikes onto the edge of the white sheet. WHOOSH! He snatched the fabric away . . .

  To reveal coils of cable and a mini-mountain of mechanical parts.

  Tute scratched his head. “What’s that lot doing here?”

  Suddenly the door scraped shut behind them, sealing them inside – and a deep, harsh voice boomed all around them. “This entire room is a bomb,” the voice announced. “To prevent a deadly explosion, you must construct a working spacecraft engine from the spare parts in front of you before the lights go out. If you fail, you will die. If you succeed, you will get the reward you deserve. Your time starts . . . now!”

  “Wait!” Teggs shouted. “Who are you? Where are you? Why have you set all these tests?”

  But the voice remained silent as the lights in the chandelier began to flash. One of the crystals quickly turned dark.

  Tute gulped. “I count ninety-nine crystals still lit.”

  “Make that ninety-eight,” said Teggs grimly as another went out. “Arx, what do you think – can we build an engine in time?”

  “If Iggy was here, no problem.” Arx looked worried. “But a lot of these parts are alien – I’m not sure what they do.”

  “You can be sure what this room will do if we can’t pass this test,” said Tute, looking at the flashing lights.

  “It’ll go BOOOM!” On board the T. rex spaceship, still tied up, Gipsy and Iggy were being carried to the kitchens by
two of Skunch’s guards. The deeper down into the ship they went, the worse the smell of boiled blood and barbecued blubber became.

  Finally they were dropped on a greasy floor. “There,” grunted one of the T. rexes. “Now us must get ready for BATTLE.”

  Chuckling as if this were the funniest thing either of them had heard, the two carnivores stomped away.

  “Ugh!” groaned Gipsy. “This can’t be the kitchen.”

  “It’s more like a toilet,” Iggy agreed. Piles of vile-smelling slop sat steaming in buckets. A rusting pile of pots and pans lay in the enormous sink. Dirty plates littered the floor, and cockroaches scuttled all about them. Suddenly the floor lurched beneath them.

  “Brigadier Skunch must be heading towards the pyramid,” Gipsy realized. “And Teggs, Arx and Tute are still inside it!”

  “And where are we when they need us?” Iggy sighed. “Trussed up in the nastiest kitchen in space.”

  “There is old T. rex saying,” growled a super-fat T. rex with one eye, one arm and a wooden leg as he hobbled inside, a dirty chef’s hat perched on his head. “‘The muckier the kitchen, the better the food!’” The newcomer laughed nastily. “And in a kitchen as mucky as mine, you will taste DEE-lish!”

  Gipsy struggled up. “Who are you?”

  “Me is Chef Sheff – Brigadier Skunch’s personal cook.” He pointed out his missing body-parts with his good claw. “Me can’t fight so well, so me cooks instead.”

  “Right.” Iggy turned up his nose. “I suppose you lost those body bits in space battles?”

  “Nope. Me use them as ingredients in special pie. Though me say so myself, me v tasty T. rex!” Chef Sheff smiled. “And me bets that YOU is scrummy too. Me thinks me will cook you with dung jelly. Where be my roast-rifle?” He rummaged through a rusty kitchen drawer and finally unearthed the rifle. “Aha! Now me can cook you . . .”

  “Guess again, meat-mush,” growled Gipsy. “Because the guards who brought us here didn’t notice me cutting my ropes on their claws. And now I’ve wriggled FREE!” She jumped in the air, performed a graceful somersault, and kicked Chef Sheff right in the belly. He doubled up and collapsed in a heap. She grabbed the roast-rifle, quickly crossed to Iggy and fired at the ropes that held his wrists and ankles fast.

  “Way to go, Gipsy!” Iggy struggled up and hugged her. “Now we’ve got to get out of here and warn Captain Teggs.”

  “How?” Gipsy looked around helplessly. “We may be loose, but we’re still stuck on this spaceship.”

  “Maybe not.” Iggy grabbed the roast-rifle, set it to the highest level, and pointed it at the kitchen floor. Very soon, the scuffed metal began to bubble and blur into a smoky, molten mess. “We’re on the lowest level of the ship, right?”

  Gipsy shrugged. “So?”

  “So, here you go . . .” Suddenly a hot wind blew up at them, clearing the smoke – to reveal a large hole had been burned through the bottom of the spaceship. “Ta-daa! Instant escape route. When the saucer lands, we jump out and race into that pyramid ahead of Skunch’s poop-heads.”

  “But even if we can warn the captain and Arx, what happens then?” Gipsy’s face fell. “With a T. rex army on our tails we’ll be sniffed out in seconds. We won’t stand a chance!”

  Chapter Seven

  WIN OR LOSE?

  At that moment, deep inside the pyramid, Teggs knew that his own chances of survival were shrinking all the time.

  He, Arx and Tute were covered in oil and sweat, struggling to turn the pile of mechanical parts into a working spacecraft engine. Several times Teggs thought they’d cracked it – but still the engine stubbornly refused to start. The room was getting steadily darker as the crystals on the chandelier went out one by one.

  Angrily, Teggs shouted out at the mysterious voice. “Why are you making us do this? We don’t mean you any harm!”

  “It’s no good,” groaned Tute. “This whole room’s going to explode at any moment.”

  “Tute, try sticking those red cables into the booster jets,” Arx suggested. “Captain, let’s reverse the exhaust section and then plug it into the ignition circuit.”

  “It’s about the only thing we haven’t tried!” Teggs agreed.

  Grunting with effort, straining to see in the gloom, the dinosaurs shifted the heavy metal components and plugged in the final wires.

  “Only ten lights left!” Tute whispered, wiping his brow. “Start her up, Teggsy!”

  “Horns crossed!” said Arx as Teggs pressed the big red button . . . And nothing happened.

  Arx groaned. “That’s it, then.”

  “No! It’s got to be right.” Teggs started hammering the button with his tail. “Come on, work!” he snarled, whacking it harder and harder. “Work!”

  Finally, with a throaty, warbling growl, the engine started.

  “Yesssss!” Tute ran around the room with his arms in the air as if he’d just scored a winning goal, and Teggs whooped as brilliant blue flames poured from the booster jets.

  “You have passed the test.” The voice boomed out, making them jump. “But that is bad luck for you.”

  “Eh?” Tute scowled as the booster rockets died. “What do you mean?”

  “This pyramid is a computer-controlled prison,” the voice revealed. “By breaking inside and passing these tests you have been judged greedy enough, clever enough and skilled enough to release Keprish.”

  “Who’s Keprish?” Teggs wondered. “Who are YOU?”

  But the voice grew louder, drowning him out. “Hear us, Keprish! We imprisoned you here for crimes against the universe, never to be released. Did you truly believe we would allow ANYONE to set you free? No, Keprish. We have teased you with false hope . . . allowed you to imagine that, perhaps this time, you might actually escape. HA! Watch and suffer as your would-be rescuers DIE!”

  “What are you on about?” Teggs shouted. “We didn’t come here to rescue anyone!”

  But then the dinosaurs gasped as ten glowing robots – each identical to the one they’d fought in the force-field chamber – dropped down from the ceiling, their blank faces pulsing with deadly power. With incredible speed they formed a tight circle around Teggs, Arx and Tute. Teggs clobbered one with his tail, but the blow had no effect. Arx tried to charge at the robots, but he was knocked straight back again.

  “Begin the execution!” hissed the voice from nowhere. “These fools had the power to set you free, Keprish. Now they will be destroyed!”

  As the robots’ faces grew blindingly bright, Teggs looked around wildly for any hope of escape – and was startled to find a bandaged T. rex burst out from beneath a tapestry on the opposite wall! Another came out behind it, and then two more . . . three more . . .

  “Look out,” he cried. “Mummies!”

  “Oh, great!” Tute closed his eyes as twelve of the mummified monsters charged towards them. “Now there’s a queue to kill us!”

  But to Teggs’s amazement, the mummies attacked the robots! The assault took some of the machines by surprise. Sparks blew out of the back of their heads, and they clattered to the ground. But the other robots spun round and blasted the T. rexes. Four were dissolved to dust, but the others kept on attacking, biting and slashing and stomping on their mechanical foes.

  “T. rexes on our side?” Arx looked baffled. “Since when?”

  “Don’t knock it, Arx,” said Teggs, dodging a face-blast. “We need all the help we can get.” With a mighty swish of his tail he whapped the nearest robot round the back of the head – cracking it open like a crystal egg. “Hit them from behind,” he yelled. “That’s their weak spot!”

  Arx got stuck in straight away, knocking over two robots and trampling them into the ground. Tute whacked one robot in the back with his bag of jewels, sending it straight into the path of three mummies, who fell upon it, snapping their jaws hungrily. ZZAPP! The remaining robots destroyed the carnivores – but while they were distracted, Teggs and Arx attacked from the rear, using tail and horn to devastating effe
ct. Both robots went up in smoke . . .

  “It’s over,” Teggs realized. All that was left of the glowing robots was a mess of cracked-open cases and electronic innards. And all but one of the T. rex mummies had been turned to dust. The sole survivor stood still as a statue, his eyes blank.

  “That mummy’s friends gave their lives to save us,” Arx said quietly.

  “Them . . . my servants,” came a deep growl behind them.

  Teggs and his friends turned to find a huge, powerful figure stepping through a secret door behind the tapestry. It was another T. rex – only this one was bandage-free. Like Tute, he was dressed in fine, flowing robes and a striped headband with a jewel in its centre. But it was his eyes that stood out the most – cold and glassy and colourless.

  “Who are you?” Teggs demanded, tail raised and ready to fight.

  The T. rex didn’t seem to hear him. “Us blundered through most tests, but could not build the engine. Bomb went off. My servants shielded me, but got hurt from head to foot.”

  “Then . . . that’s why they wore bandages?” Arx stared at the mummy in wonder. “To help their injuries?”

  Teggs frowned. “Why help us now? They fought us outside.”

  “Them was not attacking you. Them went out to uncover the entrance key so you could get inside.” The T. rex nodded slowly. “Now there be only one left. But after one thousand years of service . . . me was bored of them anyway!”

  “Is that all you can say?” Teggs began angrily.

  “Wait a sec, Teggsy. I recognize that face . . .” Tute was suddenly looking very scared. “I don’t believe it. That T. rex looks exactly like Lord Ganster – the one who discovered the pyramid, a thousand years ago!”

  Chapter Eight

  DEEPER TROUBLE

  “We’re very near the pyramid now, Gipsy.” On board Brigadier Skunch’s spaceship, Iggy was peering out through the hole he’d made in the kitchen floor. “I think we’re coming in to land!”

  “Then get ready to jump.” Gipsy came over holding a big bundle of bloodstained tablecloths. “I found these in a kitchen drawer and knotted them together – we can use them as a kind of parachute and get out ahead of the T. rexes.”