by Cas Lester
Contents
Title Page
Dedication
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Chapter Eleven
Chapter Twelve
Chapter Thirteen
Chapter Fourteen
Chapter Fifteen
Chapter Sixteen
Chapter Seventeen
Chapter Eighteen
Chapter Nineteen
Chapter Twenty
Chapter Twenty-One
Chapter Twenty-Two
Chapter Twenty-Three
Chapter Twenty-Four
Chapter Twenty-Five
Acknowledgements
Cas Lester
From The Expert
Love Reading? Love Writing?
Copyright
For Alfie, Bertie, Archie, Annie Beth and Tasha
Chapter One
Awash with litter
The Toxic Spew is the grottiest, grubbiest spaceship in Galaxy 43b. Frankly, everybody in the entire Known Universe, and Beyond knows that it’s a disgustingly filthy, tatty old pile of junk.
If you sat in the shabby black captain’s chair in the middle of the command bridge you’d be gobsmacked by the state of the place. It’s awash with litter – empty pizza boxes, crushed drinks cartons and sweet wrappers. And you’d be pretty careful where you put your hands because the control desks are covered with horrible sticky black grime.
The deck is so slimy with dregs of spilt drinks and slops of tomato sauce that the crew’s space boots stick to it and make a slurpy, sucky noise as they walk along.
The stench of rotting rubbish is so gross I’m not even going to describe it because it’d make your eyes water so much you wouldn’t be able to read.
You would think the captain would do something about it, wouldn’t you?
But then you’re from Earth, aren’t you? And I don’t want to be rude, but hey, what do you know?
Which explains why, as this story starts (on Novaday the 92nd of Luna), the crew are sitting round the command bridge having a galaxy-class whinge.
Squabbling on the command bridge
‘It’s all so tedious,’ groaned Senior Engineering Officer Gizmo clutching at his short multicoloured hair. ‘Emptying countless tubs of toilet waste from pangalactic starships or scooping up tons of rocket trash or toxic gloop from the HyperspaceWays.’
‘And it’s so pointless,’ moaned Pilot Officer Maxie sitting with her elbows on the flight desk, her purple face cupped in her hands. ‘I mean as soon as we suck up … ’
‘Vacuum up!’ corrected Scrummage. As Chief Rubbish Officer he was very touchy about the ship’s garbage kit. Not so touchy that he didn’t mind putting his filthy space boots up on the garbage control desk.
Maxie shot him a withering look with her bright turquoise eyes and carried on. ‘As soon as we suck up one pool of revolting toxic gloop then an even more disgusting one drifts in from somewhere else.’
Scrummage leant back in his seat, his scruffy multicoloured ponytail hanging limply from his balding head. He raised one white eyebrow and said …
(Hang on. You did notice that the crew have purple faces and multicoloured hair, white eyebrows and turquoise eyes, didn’t you? And you’ve probably even worked out they’re not from Earth.
But I bet you didn’t know they’re from the planet Zeryx Minor, did you, Smartypants?
It’s not your fault of course. You don’t study ‘The A–Z of Intergalactic Life Forms’ in Earth schools, do you? And I bet you can’t even download it from the Outernet.
You must feel horribly left out in your remote corner of the universe.)
‘Look, it might not be the most glamorous job’, said Scrummage. ‘But … ’
‘Glamorous? It’s ghastly!’ Gizmo butted in, sneering down his rather hooked nose.
‘As Chief Rubbish Officer, may I point out that space junk is a serious danger to interplanetary traffic. We do a vital job.’
‘No, we do a rubbish job … and you are a Rubbish Officer.’
Maxie laughed.
Fight, fight, fight!
‘Gentlemen!’ said Harvey in a warning tone. Scrummage and Gizmo were heading for a spat and he wanted to nip it in the bud.
‘It’s daring and dangerous!’ exclaimed Scrummage.
It’s disgusting and dirty,’ sniffed Gizmo. ‘It’s also, revolting and repulsive, gruesome and gross. Like you.’
Scrummage swung his legs angrily off the control desk and hitched up his filthy green and yellow overalls over his vast belly. ‘Right! That’s it!’ he snorted, storming over to Gizmo.
‘Fight, fight, fight!’ chanted Maxie.
Chapter Two
No brawling on the bridge!
Harvey leapt out of his seat and jumped in between Scrummage and Gizmo before they started slugging it out with their bare fists.
It might be helpful if I mention that although Harvey doesn’t have much experience as a spaceship captain (almost none in fact) he was captain of the Highford All Stars football team back home on Earth for two seasons running.
Obviously, his teammates weren’t anything like as stroppy as the crew of the Toxic Spew. And he hadn’t actually had to face many literally deadly dangerous and fatally lethal situations on the pitch (like poisonous killer maggots, a multiple spacecraft pile-up and exploding garbage). But he’s a quick learner.
And, of course, the crew think the Highford All Stars is a spaceship. And he hasn’t quite got round to telling them it’s actually a football team.
(Look, I don’t want to give you the wrong idea about Harvey. He’s not deliberately lying. It’s just that tactically there hasn’t been a good moment to … er … fess up.)
‘No brawling on the bridge,’ ordered Harvey, pushing Scrummage and Gizmo apart. ‘And, Maxie, what kind of behaviour is that, encouraging a fight?’
‘Spoilsport,’ said Maxie.
‘He started it!’ said Scrummage, prodding his finger at Gizmo.
‘No you did!’
‘Pack it in!’ ordered Harvey.
‘“Pack it in!”? What kind of order is that? From a spaceship commander?’ laughed Maxie.
Harvey sighed. She never missed a chance to get a dig in. Maxie wasn’t much older than him, or much bigger. She had to roll the sleeves and legs of her uniform up to stop them flapping around. But she was a brilliant pilot. And she didn’t like being bossed around by anyone. Let alone an eleven-year-old boy from a planet they’d never even heard of and couldn’t even find on a 3D digital star map.
Fortunately for Harvey, the crew were suddenly distracted.
Rocket Fuel Special
SCHWOOOSH!
The doors to the bridge opened and Medical Officer Yargal slurped onto the bridge, her three yellow eyes waggling on their stalks. She oozed across the deck, like a large green slug, her huge single slimy foot trailing sticky grey slime in its wake. A pile of pizza boxes and drinks cartons slithered around alarmingly in her six slippery blue tentacles. Strings of gunk dribbled down onto the boxes making them soggy.
(The one snag of having a Yargillian as Medical Officer and Ship’s Cook is that the constant dribbling and oozing can put you off your lunch. Yargillians are one of the most revolting life forms in the entire Known Universe, and Beyond – but it isn’t polite to mention it, obviously.)
Snuffles, the ship’s dog, lolloped behind her, looking like a cross between a hungry Grey Wolf and an even hungrier Great White Shark – vast, shag
gy, slobbery and utterly terrifying.
‘Lunch!’ cried Yargal.
Everyone grabbed the boxes greedily. Snuffles settled himself at Harvey’s feet, dribbling hopefully. Strings of saliva slobbered off his massive teeth and dripped onto the grimy deck.
DRIBBLE, DRIBBLE! DROOL, DROOL!
‘Do we have to have a Hazard Hunting Hound from Canine Major on the bridge at lunchtime?’ challenged Maxie.
Since nobody ever cleaned anything up on the Toxic Spew, Harvey had thought they might as well let the dog slobber up some of the muck. Of course the bridge wasn’t exactly spotless – but it was better than it had been. You could actually see the floor in places.
So he ignored Maxie, and patted Snuffles on the head, who gave him a friendly nudge with his raw meatball of a nose. He really was a lovely hound, once you got over: your fear, his teeth … and the drool.
Harvey opened his pizza box and froze in horror.
‘It’s my Rocket Fuel Special,’ boasted Yargal. ‘Pilchards in pineapple jelly with molten mozzarella and extra hot spicy sauce with a secret ingredient!’ She winked at Harvey with the middle one of her three yellow waggly eyes.
Harvey had got used to the Yargillian’s repulsive looks. But he would never get used to her repulsive pizza ‘Specials’. This one was topped with an alarming lime green sauce, which probably glowed in the dark.
‘Er … could I just have a plain cheese and tomato one?’ he said, remembering the crunchy deep-pan ones his mum used to buy and how he dunked the crusts in a dollop of ketchup and mayo mixed. He sighed. The crew had promised they would get him home one day and to the exact same time and place he’d left, so that technically his family wouldn’t miss him at all. But that didn’t stop him missing his family.
Molten mozzarella!
‘Oh, come on, Captain,’ spat Scrummage with his mouthful of food. ‘Be adventurous!’ Greedily he tore off another slice of his cheese, chocolate banana custard and chilli sauce pizza and rammed it in his mouth. A large blob of greasy gooey mozzarella slid down between the switches on the garbage desk in front of him.
‘Mind the controls!’ snapped Gizmo.
‘Don’t fuss!’ snorted Scrummage, prodding at the blob of molten cheese with his grubby fingers and shoving it down between the switches. ‘It’s only the smallest mini, micro, milli-atom of molten mozzarella.’
There was a nasty buzzing sound,
BZZZZ BZZ BZZZZZZ FFZZZZZ
exactly as if some electrical wires were touching each other when they shouldn’t be, and then:
KA-BOOM!
WHOOOOMPH!
There was a small explosion and a shower of sparks as the garbage control panel caught fire.
Chapter Three
Fire!
‘Multicoloured chunder!’ yelped Scrummage, leaping back from his desk as flames flickered round the controls.
DRRIIIIIING!
WHOOP! WHOOP! WHOOP!
The ship’s alarms screamed and warning lights flashed sickeningly yellow around the command bridge.
Snuffles yelped and starting howling.
AROOOO, AROUOUOU, AROOO!
The computer’s digital voice broke through with frankly irritating cheerfulness. ‘I hate to alarm you, Captain, but could I just draw your attention to the fact that there is, unless I am very much mistaken, a fire on the bridge?’
But Harvey had already grabbed the fire extinguisher.
‘Fire on the bridge!’ screamed Yargal, waggling her tentacles hysterically and getting in his way. ‘Captain, save me! I’m too young to die in a fire on the bridge.’
(That’s the one snag of having a Yargillian on your crew. They do tend to over-react in a crisis.)
DRRIIIIIING!
WHOOP! WHOOP! WHOOP!
AROOOO, AROUOUOU, AROOO!
Harvey doubted anything as damp and slimy as Yargal could actually catch fire. He aimed the fire extinguisher at the flames.
WHOOOOOOSH!
A stream of bright pink foam smothered the garbage control desk like a giant marshmallow. Maxie, sitting no more than a metre away at the flight desk carried on casually eating her pizza and wafting the worst of the smoke and steam away.
DRRIIIIIING!
WHOOP! WHOOP! WHOOP!
went the alarms.
AROOOO, AROUOUOU, AROOO!
went Snuffles.
‘Snuffles, quiet!’ ordered Harvey. ‘And computer, cut alarms.’
‘Do you mean: “Computer, cut alarms please?”’ said the computer snippily.
‘Sorry, yes. Computer, cut alarms please.’
‘Thank you! Just because there’s a little bit of a panic on the bridge, doesn’t mean we have to forget our manners.’ It bleeped off huffily and cut the alarms.
DRRIIIIII …
WHOO …
(Sorry, I’m not sure how to spell sounds that get cut off, but you get the idea.)
Again, no brawling on the bridge!
Gizmo threw down his pizza slice and stormed over to the garbage control desk. ‘Not again! Captain, may I remind you of the Intergalactic Travel and Transport Pact rules and regulations regarding keeping critical controls clean?’ he cried.
Scrummage leapt to his feet and spitting pizza crumbs over Gizmo’s spotless overalls said, ‘That’s your job! You’re the Engineering Officer.’
‘How dare you! You eat like a giant space hog from the Nova Pigasus Nebula!’
Scrummage pointed a large slice of pizza threateningly at Gizmo. ‘Don’t you make personal remarks about me,’ he spluttered.
Maxie tucked her hair behind her ears, leant her elbows on the flight desk and grinned at her fellow officers.
Snuffles dribbled hopefully. There was every chance Gizmo and Scrummage would lose their tempers and start throwing large chunks of pizza around. Frankly, there was every chance Gizmo and Scrummage would start throwing each other around.
‘Gentlemen. May I remind you of my rules and regulations regarding brawling on the bridge?’ said Harvey firmly.
A few moments of peace and calm returned to the bridge.
Until Harvey took a large bite out of his Rocket Fuel Special pizza and … screamed.
‘AAAAAAAARGH!’
Chapter Four
Death by pizza
Harvey choked, his eyes and nose streaming violently. Yargal’s Rocket Fuel Special with its bright green glow-in the-dark extra hot spicy sauce had nearly blown his head off.
Yargal thumped him on the back with a slimy tentacle. ‘Sorry, sir. Was it a bit spicy for you?’
‘What did you put in it?’ he gasped.
‘I told you – pilchards, pineapple jelly, mozzarella and extra hot spicy sauce … with just a hint of rocket fuel.’
‘Rocket fuel! You actually put rocket fuel in the sauce? I thought that was just a nickname.’
(That’s the one snag of having a Yargillian as Medical Officer and Ship’s Cook. They can eat pretty much anything (even boiled Brussels sprouts) and they don’t know that you humans are quite, er … picky eaters.
Especially when it comes to eating food that can actually, literally and painfully melt your tonsils.)
‘Yargal! You could have killed me!’
Maxie burst out laughing. ‘Death by pizza! Not a very heroic way to die!’
Harvey lay under the water cooler at the back of the bridge with his mouth wide open and turned the tap on FULL. Water poured down his throat, splashed all over his face and splattered onto the deck. Snuffles stood over him trying to catch the drips with his huge rubbery tongue. It wasn’t a very impressive position for a spaceship captain to be in. Maxie rolled her eyes.
‘I’ll take command if you’re not well, Captain,’ said Gizmo, heading for the captain’s chair in the centre of the bridge.
‘NO!’ snapped Maxie and Scrummage, and Gizmo reluctantly sat back down.
‘I’m sorry, Captain,’ said Yargal sadly and squelched damply off the bridge, taking Snuffles with her.
Speckled
vomit!
The lights on the computer’s console flickered busily and it bleeped importantly.
‘Captain, I hate to interrupt you because:
a) it’s rude
and
b) you are obviously very busy taking a shower …
‘Oh, by the way, can I just mention that we have a fully functional bathroom on the ship with hot and cold running water, a soap dispenser and a plug on a bit of string?
‘Anyhow, I’m picking up an urgent distress signal from a SupaCosmicCargo ship in the Gamma Delton XL Belt.’ It paused for effect, then added: ‘It’s carrying a cargo of Techno-tium.’
‘Techno-tium? TECHNO-TIUM!’ cried Scrummage. ‘Speckled vomit!’
Chapter Five
Chaos on the bridge
They couldn’t believe their luck. In all their multiple intergalactic missions, the Bin Men of the Toxic Spew had never, ever found any Techno-tium. Not even a tiny little nanocrumb.
