I followed him down walkway after walkway, which was a bit annoying because I could have just stayed on the courtesy trolley and got a comfortable ride all the way. We passed ship after ship, all sleek and majestic and wearing cool names like Stargazer or Sunbird or Galaxy Wanderer. I couldn’t wait to see mine…when we finally got to it, of course.
It was only after about the fifth or sixth corner that he finally stopped. He turned to me, looked down at me sternly and said, ‘This is your ship.’
I looked up…and I couldn’t believe what I was seeing.
It was a wreck, that was the only way to describe it. Every other starship I’d seen there had looked polished and efficient and ready to go. This one looked as though someone had just lifted it off the scrap-heap, dusted it down and plonked it there. It looked old. It looked weary. It looked as though all it wanted was for that same someone to come back, pick it up and toss it back on the scrap-heap. It was strange but I found myself feeling kind of sorry for it.
‘Er…what’s her name?’ I asked weakly.
‘Name?’ he repeated blankly.
‘Yes! Name! Surely she’s got one.’
‘Giving a ship a name doesn’t make it go any faster, you know.’
‘I know but—’
‘Get on board!’ he snapped. ‘Find your cabin then report to me on the bridge!’
And with that, he turned on his heel and stomped off, leaving me there like I was a piece of rubbish he’d just dumped for someone to come along and collect. I wasn’t best pleased, I can tell you.
I dragged my luggage up the gangway and on board. There I stopped. If this ship looked a wreck from the outside, it looked even worse from the inside. There were cables hanging off the walls. That didn’t bother me but the sparks shooting out of them did. There were pillars arching over the corridors. That didn’t bother me but the paint peeling off them did. There were…I really don’t think you want to hear the rest. All I will tell you is I had the sneaking suspicion that I was going to be needed on this voyage.
‘Can I help you, young lady?’
It was a voice, right behind me and sounding more puzzled than cross. I swung round and guessed immediately he was member of the crew. I could tell by the patched trousers and the holes in his sweater. He looked as much of a wreck as the ship.
‘Hi,’ I said. ‘I’m Astra. Astra Norte. I’m coming with you on this trip.’
He folded his arms and looked pointedly down at me. ‘Oh, so you’re the cause of all the trouble, are you?’
‘Trouble?’ I said. ‘What trouble?’ —I was worried: what if news of what had happened to the headmaster had got here before me, before I’d had the chance to explain that it really wasn’t my fault, he just shouldn’t have been sitting on the gas canister at that moment?
‘Our captain,’ he went on. ‘He’s been in a bad mood from the moment he knew you were joining us.’
‘Oh?’ I said. Actually, I could well believe it. ‘Why?’
‘We don’t usually take passengers, this being a cargo ship and all.’
‘Cargo ship! But I was told it would be a space liner! With swimming pools and restaurants and…and things!’ All my dreams of being pampered by loads of waiters on a luxurious voyage were going straight out the nearest porthole. ‘There must be some mistake.’
‘No mistake,’ said the man. ‘In fact, your headmaster was most insistent when he made the booking.’
‘The headmaster!’ I nearly shouted. Things were beginning to make sense. ‘He booked my ticket?’
‘He certainly did. Funny thing, he said was calling from a hospital bed, wanted you to know that. He said you’d understand. Come on, I’ll show you to your cabin.’
Oh, I understood, all right! One tiny flaw in my experiment, one tiny explosion, one slightly burnt headmaster’s bum and now I had to suffer all this? It wasn’t fair! And as I followed the man down corridor after corridor, with the paint peeling and the water dripping and the lights flickering, it was getting less and less fair with every step.
At last, we came to a door. He pushed it open.
‘This is your cabin,’ he said. ‘I have to go and weld a nut so I’ll leave you to it.’
Mind the nut’s bald head, I wanted to say as I watched him leave, but I didn’t. I figured I was in enough trouble as it was.
As I stepped into my cabin, I dropped my luggage on the floor and took a long look round. There wasn’t much to it, just a bed, a wardrobe and a bedside table. And a sink. And a door leading into a little room which I guessed was the shower and the loo. It could have been worse, I guessed.
It didn’t take me long to unpack, and I thought I might have time for a quick shower. But when I went to turn the tap on, there was this strange gurgling sound…then this strange glugging sound…then this kind of burp and suddenly, there was a thin trickle of water dripping from the showerhead.
Well, as any self-respecting inventor who likes getting herself up to her elbows in grease and muck will tell you, that would not do. I rummaged around in my stuff until I found my trusty all-purpose screwdriver. Then I undid the panel behind the shower and found the problem.
There was a kink in the water pipe, and it didn’t take me long to use my screwdriver to knock it back into shape (well, it is all-purpose). I was feeling pretty pleased with myself, I can tell you, and I was just thinking about this shower again when there was this sudden whistling sound.
I looked up. There was a tannoy speaker in one top corner of my cabin. It started spouting words in a voice I thought I recognised, and as I listened, I wondered if he’d managed to put his face on the right way up yet.
‘Space Cadet Astra Norte, report to the bridge immediately!’
The bridge! Oh no, I’d forgotten I was supposed to report to the bridge! The shower would have to wait.
I found the bridge easily enough. Well, hey, even I know the bridge on a starship is on its top and pretty much at the front. And anyway, I had the sound of a loud voice yelling orders to guide me: the louder it got, I figured, the closer I was getting.
‘Hi!’ I said as I breezed in. ‘Did I miss anything?’
The bald head sitting in the captain’s chair swivelled round to face me. ‘You don’t just say Hi when you report to the bridge!’ he thundered. ‘You give your name and say you’re reporting for duty!’
‘But you know my name!’ I said. ‘And what’s this about duty?’
‘Didn’t anyone tell you?’ he said, and I didn’t like the way he was smiling. ‘This is a working voyage, booked to teach you some sense of responsibility.’
The man I’d seen earlier was looking across at me. He nodded once as if to tell me something, and I understood only too well. The headmaster again! He must have been really sore about that explosion, and not just in his bum.
‘Now, stand in the corner and don’t get in the way!’ the captain bellowed.
I stood in the corner and tried to keep out of the way. There was a lot going on, and I guessed they were getting ready for take off. Then the captain was picking up a microphone and speaking. I thought he was going to yell another message for Space Cadet Astra Norte to blah—blah—blah again, but I was wrong.
‘Departure to planet Sygnus 3 ready for take off,’ he barked. ‘Requesting clearance.’
All he got back was static. He barked again.
‘Repeat. Departure to planet Sygnus 3 ready for take off. Requesting clearance.’
More static. Now he was getting really cross.
‘Confound it! Somebody talk to me!’
‘I think it’s the radio,’ I said, trying to be helpful.
He swivelled round in his chair again. ‘I know that!’ he thundered.
‘I can fix it,’ I said, and almost immediately, I knew it was quite the wrong thing to say.
‘Like you fixed those brakes?’ he sneered. ‘Just stay there and keep quiet!’
It wasn’t fair! I knew I could fix it. While the captain and another crewmember fussed over some control
panel, I sneaked over to his chair and took a look at the microphone. I knew what was wrong because I had the same thing happen to me when I tried to record my best friend Sally burping. And I know I fixed that because when I played her burp back through the school loudspeaker system, it shattered all the windows.
I still had my trusty all-purpose screwdriver in my back pocket from fixing the shower. Quick as a flash, I whipped it out and used the blade to open the casing. As I peered inside, I could see I was right: a wire had come away from the negative terminal on the primary sleeve valve. It was a quick job to nudge it back into place and tighten the screw once more. Then I was snapping the microphone shut and placing it gently back down.
‘WHAT ARE YOU DOING THERE!’
Yeah, you’ve guessed it: it was the captain. I swung round to see him bearing down on me, his bald patch purple with rage.
‘Just having a look,’ I said innocently.
‘Well, go and have a look somewhere else! I have a ship to get under way!’
I went back to my corner. He picked up the microphone and barked into it again.
‘Departure to planet Sygnus 3 ready for take off. Requesting clearance.’
And this time, instead of static, a clear voice rang back.
‘Clear for take off. Use flight path Alpha.’
The captain grinned over at the crew member he’d been working with on the panel.
‘See?’ he said. ‘I told you I’d fix it.’
I said nothing. I just stood in my corner but didn’t wonder just what I’d let myself in for. By now, I knew only too well.
3: TAKE OFF