A Beginner's Guide to Ruling the Galaxy, page 18
“Oh, Gavin, I’m sorry.” Nan put an arm round him.
“I’m sure you can stay in touch,” said Grandad. “Maybe visit each other. Do you know where they’re moving to?”
Gavin muttered something about it being a long way away, but then the Tiny Horror woke up and began to wail. Blasted baby! Maybe it was the crying, maybe it was tiredness, maybe he’d just had enough, but Gavin’s hurt at being kicked out to make room for the squalling thing bubbled over. “I know what you’re doing,” he snapped. “I’ve seen the letter.”
“What letter?” said Nan, at the same time trying to soothe the Tiny Horror.
He fished out the envelope from his dressing-gown pocket. “It’s from the council. You’re giving the Tiny Hor— the baby my room, aren’t you?”
Nan looked puzzled. “Well, yes, but—”
“I knew it! I knew you were kicking me out.” He felt tears prick his eyes.
“Kicking you out?” Nan sounded distraught.
“Gavin, you don’t understand.” Grandad took the envelope and extracted a sheaf of documents. “This is planning permission. We’re converting the attic into a new bedroom for you.”
A bedroom.
For him.
“We wanted it to be a surprise,” said Grandad.
Mission well and truly accomplished, thought Gavin, reeling from the unexpected revelation. He snatched back the letter – he had to make sure what they were saying was true – but he couldn’t read it as the words seemed to be zipping around the page. Somewhere far away he could hear Nan and Grandad’s anxious voices asking him if he was all right, if he needed to sit down.
“I thought you were sending me away.”
Nan cut him off, wrapping him in a big hug. “Oh, Gavin, if only we’d known you were so worried.”
“Sorry, son,” said Grandad, joining the embrace. “We should’ve told you sooner.”
Gavin felt a wave of relief. No, waves didn’t cover it. Happiness and relief were twin elephants trampling him underfoot. Shock was a wet haddock repeatedly whacking him about the face. How could he have got it so wrong? And yet it had turned out so right. For him, at least. He wasn’t leaving. He was staying here with Nan and Grandad. And the Tiny Horror – well, you couldn’t have everything. But even in the midst of his tumultuous feelings, his thoughts flew to Niki.
There was a boom from high above in the night sky.
“What was that?” asked Nan with a start.
“Thunder,” said Grandad. “Come on, let’s get inside before the rain starts.”
“You go,” said Gavin. “I need to speak to Niki.”
“Don’t be long,” Nan called back as, cradling the Tiny Horror, she and Grandad set off for home.
Gavin stood on the now empty pavement, eyes fixed on the dark clouds overhead.
It wasn’t thunder.
Chapter 31
The Galactic League Lander arrived on silent wings. There was no mucking about with multistorey car parks; on the stroke of midnight the pilot put the craft down in the small back garden of number forty-six. As it touched down, one wingtip knocked over the wall that bordered next door, which the neighbours would only discover in the morning when Dr Aziz left for work promptly at seven forty-five. But by then the ship – and Niki – would be long gone.
Inside the house the drones, which had spent the evening forcing unwanted snacks on people, were now conducting a ruthless clean-up using their built-in weaponry to disintegrate leftover plastic plates and cups. The air hung heavy with blaster-fire and sadness.
In the living room, Niki stood between her parents, resplendent in their League garments. Derek’s crown of fire flickered contentedly, the flames reflected in Pam’s dark eyes. Flanking them at either end of the fireplace like a couple of gargoyles lurked a pair of imposing soldiers. They were League troopers; man-sized armoured slugs, their glistening arms holding multi-barrelled assault rifles. Now that the challenge was at an end, Pam and Derek had regained access to the full, terrifying power of their reunited forces. Gavin and the Apples stood on the other side of the room, waiting anxiously.
The door opened and Niki entered. She had changed out of her Earth clothes and was wearing a silver jumpsuit and matching knee-high boots like the ones Pam favoured. Her hair was piled on top of her head in a formal style, finished off with a sparkling tiara. There was a streak of purple make-up around her eyes and her fingernails were painted with shining purple varnish. She looked like a being from another world.
“I am happy to see you properly attired,” Pam said admiringly. “Those Earth rags did not befit a princess of the League.”
“I have something to say,” Niki announced. “It affects all of you.” She turned first to Gavin. “Thanks to the benevolence of the Galactic League and in return for my willingness to accompany my parents, they reaffirm their promise not to destroy the Earth, either out of revenge or spite, or by accident.”
Derek stuck up a finger. “Although we can’t be a hundred per cent sure about that last one.” He shrugged his shoulders. “Sometimes these things happen.”
“Thanks?” said Gavin.
Niki held out a backpack to him, its contents jangling as she passed it over. No doubt the promised collection of glass dolphins and weird toothbrush she’d said she was leaving behind. Though presumably not Cubic Parsec, unless they’d been subjected to some kind of shrink-ray. Given the company, it was a real possibility. Nervously, he stole a look inside the bag. There were the glass dolphins, the weird toothbrush, but no miniaturised pop group. Phew.
Niki moved on to the Apples. “You are pardoned for your part in abducting me.”
“However, your actions cannot go entirely unpunished,” put in Pam. “Daughter?”
The Apples braced themselves for the bad news.
“You are to be exiled,” said Niki. “Doomed to live out your lives here on planet Earth.”
The frown lines on Sam’s wrinkled brow vanished. “What did you say?”
“You get to stay,” said Niki. “It’s what you wanted, right?”
He paused and then slowly shook his head. “My wish was for the four of us to live here together.” He gathered himself, straightening his back and giving a formal neck-bow. “Thank you, Princess.”
Mercedes went to hug her, but Niki pulled back.
“Very well,” said Pam. “We depart as soon as the Lander pilot has had his sandwiches.”
Derek flicked a finger at Bart and issued a command to the sentries. “Put that in the hold for the journey.”
One of the slug-troopers slithered towards Bart and grabbed him by the arm.
“But you said he could stay!” Niki objected. “That was our deal.”
“Our deal was for the Leontine and the android,” said Derek.
“That thing was never part of the agreement,” said Pam, disgusted. “How could it be? It’s just a meat-sack full of organs.”
“You promised,” said Niki frantically.
But the discussion was at an end and Pam and Derek were already turning to leave. Niki stared forlornly at Bart, secured in the slimy arms of the slug-trooper.
“I’m sorry,” she said.
Bart didn’t speak, only glowered at her until the troopers began marching him out of the house.
“No!” yelled Sam, lunging to intercept them. He grabbed hold of Bart, trying to wrestle him from the trooper’s grip. “You’re not taking him.” They fought briefly but then there was a searing blast of light and Sam crumpled to the floor. The trooper’s colleague stood over him with his just-fired weapon.
Mercedes and Niki rushed to Sam’s side. With a groan, he stirred and sat up.
“Bart…” he called out weakly.
“It’s too late,” said Mercedes. “He’s gone.”
Gathering themselves, the Apples and Gavin followed the others out of the house to watch the launch. Gavin froze at the sight of the hulking shape of the Lander in the moonlight. His legs, which had carried him this far, suddenly felt like cooked spaghetti.
“I don’t do goodbyes,” said a voice at his feet. He looked down to see Cupcake. “Unless they’re of the terminal variety, of course.”
“You’re leaving too?”
“The League is giving me a lift back to the fleet and a new ship to replace the one that was destroyed. My reward for helping them track down the princess. Sorry about that.”
“That’s OK,” he said. “You were only doing your morally dubious job.”
“Oh, I’ve been meaning to return this,” said Cupcake.
It was Gavin’s journal.
“Hey, Earth Gavin, for a biped you’re pretty nifty in a tight spot,” said Cupcake. “Ever thought of becoming a bounty hunter?”
“Sure,” he said. “Right after I’ve finished my astronaut training.”
“I’m gonna miss that earthling sarcasm. Here, if you ever change your mind.” Cupcake passed him what looked suspiciously like a squeaky plastic mouse toy.
“It’s a squeaky plastic mouse toy,” said Gavin.
“Don’t be ridiculous. It’s a hyperspace locator beacon. You need to code it to your personal identity. Press it three times.”
SQUEAK! SQUEAK! SQUEAK!
“Next time you do that, wherever I am I’ll get the message and know it’s you.” The cat threw him a salute. “Say bye to Tony for me. See you around, kid.”
“See you, Cupcake.”
With that the bounty hunter leapt up the ramp of the Lander and padded aboard without a backward glance.
Gavin stared down at the journal in his hand. He hadn’t written anything in it about the Apples, not since discovering the truth about them. Not that a journal entry mattered – he was hardly going to forget the time that he lived next door to a family of aliens.
He dropped it into the backpack and slung the bag over his shoulder. “I’m never going to forget…”
“What did you say?” asked Sunshine Starburst at his side.
“Forget…” he repeated. “I think … I think…”
The Lander’s engines fired up. Sam and Mercedes held one another tightly, watching Niki glide up the ramp to be swallowed by the darkness of the vessel’s interior. Derek and Pam swept after her, their slug-troopers slithering behind them. The ramp began to retract.
Gavin’s head, which had until then been clouded by gloomy goodbyes, was suddenly clear and laser focused.
“I think I know how to save her.”
The hatch was closing.
It was now or never.
Grabbing Sunshine Starburst, he sprinted across the lawn. He was still wearing his dressing gown, with the plastic laser-sword tucked in the cord. It banged against his hip and the backpack full of glass dolphins clinked on his shoulders. He’d taken the precaution of clamping a hand over the talkative unicorn’s mouth, which was a good job as it muffled its outraged complaints. He darted through the hatch just before it sealed shut.
He was inside the Lander – there was no turning back now. As he moved away from the entrance, he felt a tug at his hip. The closing hatch had nipped the hem of his dressing gown. He was stuck. From along the gangway came a wet squelch. With horror, Gavin saw that it was a slug-trooper. The bulbous creature filled the corridor, slime oozing between the plates of its combat armour, the sensory tentacles on its head twitching. It couldn’t fail to notice him, except for one thing.
His cosmic ordinariness.
The trooper slid past him. Quickly, Gavin yanked free the trapped dressing gown.
“What have you done?!” Sunshine Starburst blurted, purple plastic heart beating wildly.
“Don’t worry, I’ve got it all figured out.”
“Oh, well then, that’s completely fine.” Sarcasm from a talking toy unicorn comes across as excessively bitter. “GET ME OFF THIS SH—”
Its cry was drowned out by a rumble from the atmospheric drive, and a second later the nose of the craft pitched up and they launched skyward. Gavin figured that even with his natural invisibility he had to find somewhere to hide. Assuming that no one was likely to need a wee in the short time it would take to get from Earth to the orbiting flagship, he located a toilet. Locking the hatch behind him, he sat down on the closed lid of the toilet seat and grabbed a handhold. He noticed a porthole window. It was a loo with a view.
“I can see my house from here,” he mumbled. By the time he got to the end of the sentence, the house, Middling and the whole country had dropped out of sight. The northern hemisphere receded below as they raced up through the atmosphere. He shifted position on the lid.
“Have you been yet?”
“What?”
“It’s the toilet,” explained Sunshine Starburst. “Quantum Flusher Mark Eight. Nag, nag, nag. Just ignore it.”
“You’d better go before we leave the solar system,” the toilet went on. “We’re not stopping until we get there. And don’t forget to lift the seat. It’s electrified.”
Sunshine Starburst wriggled out of his grip and pressed its nose up against the porthole. Gavin was aware of a shadow crossing the window and then the unicorn repeating the words, “Oh no, oh no, oh no…”
He leaned past it and squinted into space. The Lander was travelling beneath another, much bigger ship, one that dwarfed even the Gastronite Magicruiser.
“Type 77 battleship,” said Sunshine. “The most destructive force in the galaxy. D’Rek got it in the divorce.”
As they flew on beneath the giant craft, Gavin recalled another passage from Derek’s book.
Forget space yachts or orbital battle stations, nothing says you’ve made it like a five-kilometre-long heavily armed battleship. I purchased my first from The Ultimate Killing Machine Corporation. Sleek and indestructible, it came in Stealth Black with Go-Faster-Than-Light stripes. I got a little carried away with the option list. So don’t do what I did, and instead stick to these essentials: seat coverings made from the hides of your defeated enemies is always a good look; the Discomfort Pack is ideal if you’re expecting to transport prisoners; and make sure it comes loaded with Android. Ideally, an army of killer androids.
The sun edged over the superstructure. They were changing course. The Lander swung up and over the bigger ship, swooping low over sensor dishes, weapons turrets and a host of other stations whose function Gavin could only guess at. It had taken mere minutes to travel from Middling to this point, but they flew across the surface of the ship for a long time before the note of the Lander’s drive altered and its speed dropped. Ahead, the mighty flagship’s giant hangar doors slowly drew apart. They edged inside and, with a series of clunks, Gavin felt the shuttle settle on its landing gear.
“What are we doing here?” asked Sunshine, the colours of its horn swirling wildly.
“I’m going to rescue the princess,” said Gavin. “And quite possibly save the galaxy.”
Chapter 32
“Terrific,” said the unicorn. “But did you have to schlep me along too?”
“Shh!” hissed Gavin. The Lander’s outer hatch was opening. They waited in silence as Niki and the rest of the passengers and crew disembarked. Gavin could hear Cupcake asking for directions to its new ship, then Pam and Derek’s smug, imperious tones, but nothing from Niki. He pictured her, quiet and furious.
“Tell me something,” Sunshine asked. “Up until today what would you say is your greatest accomplishment?”
Gavin thought for a moment. “When I was ten, I collected a boatload of tokens from cereal packs to earn a free trip to Legoland.”
“Right, right.” Sunshine Starburst nodded wisely. “You don’t think saving the galaxy might be, how can I put this, a bit of a step up?”
“That’s why I brought you,” he said. “I figured you’d be able to help me by finding out where they’re holding her. You just have to stick your horn into one of those sockets to access the ship’s systems, right?”
“Oh sure, that’ll do it. Easy. There, the galaxy is saved.” The unicorn slapped a hoof to its head and groaned.
With the Lander now empty of crew, Gavin made his way to the open hatch and looked out over the vast hangar bay, lined with squadrons of sleek gunships. On the far side he spied a familiar figure. It was Cupcake, climbing aboard one of the craft. He didn’t have to wait long before its drive fired up and the ship lifted off the deck. The craft angled towards a set of open hangar doors and flew out into space. Gavin knew he could call back the bounty hunter with three presses on the squeaky mouse toy, but as much as he wanted to, he daren’t risk it. If the cat returned now it would draw suspicion and jeopardise his mission. This time he was on his own.
“OK, here goes.” He crept across the bay, Sunshine trotting behind. They sneaked past the end of a row of fighters and their crews and slipped through a hatch into the passageway outside. He’d never felt happier at being so insignificant.
“There’s one of those access points,” he said, spotting it in the wall opposite. “Go on then, do your stuff.”
Grumbling, Sunshine Starburst waddled over and inserted its horn. While it attempted to access the ship’s systems, Gavin reflected that this was the fourth spaceship he’d been on in a month. The deck and walls were completely covered with deep-pile carpet in an avocado-green colour. From the ceiling at regular intervals dangled pendant lamps with bright-orange shades. And there was a lingering scent of orange spice throughout.
“What’s with the funky decor?” he asked.
Sunshine Starburst’s horn glowed as data streamed through it. “According to the onboard records, as soon as D’Rek got sole ownership of the flagship he planned on implementing a major upgrade to the weapons systems, navigational computers and interior design, but after the divorce he was extremely short of funds and had to abandon his plans. The ship hasn’t been redecorated since it was commissioned in Galactic League Standard Year 1974. It’s very fashionable, for the time.”
“Attention, all crew.” A ship-wide broadcast interrupted the unicorn’s report. “Prepare to make the jump to light speed in thirty minutes. That is three zero Galactic League minutes. Countdown to interstellar jump begins … now!”
