8.
It had been such a whirlwind of events since Emily arrived on Camillo that she was glad when the weather changed. She lay in bed, snuggled up under her duvet, listening to the pitter-patter of rain and reading Jacqueline Wilson’s, Dustbin Girl. She didn’t know where it came from, it was just one of those familiar things like Marmite and cans of baked beans that were here in her house waiting for her. She suspected the sentry slugs had something to do with it. She snoozed, she read, she listened to the rain and when she got hungry, she had toast spread with marmite and covered with steaming hot baked beans with a layer of English cheddar on top. Yum!
She read some more, she slept some more, she lay in bed doing nothing and then she got bored. She stoked up the wood burning stove, which had a tangle of pipes at the back to heat the water, and went for a walk along the beach in the pouring rain and wind. Waves washed up to the top of the beach and the roaring surf filled the air with foam and spray. She got thoroughly wet and cold then came home and luxuriated in the bath until her feet went all wrinkly like prunes. She cooked up pikelets and ate them with lashings of raspberry jam, chasing them down with mugs of steaming hot chocolate.
When the sunshine returned, Emily was recharged and rearing to go; ready for more aliens and wacky adventures.
‘Black holes?’ she asked.
‘Not to be trifled with,’ said Castor.
‘Can I go hunting?’
Castor was silent for a moment, as if in thought, then said, ‘Click your fingers.’
Click! Zimp!
Emily found herself in the cockpit of another spaceship. It was similar to the security moon but there was a corridor in the centre leading back to what looked like a cargo hold. On either side of the corridor was a sentry slug. They were much smaller than Castor; their faces about a metre across and their skin flawless, with a sprinkling of youthful pimples.
‘Hi Emily, it’s very nice to meet you,’ said the one on Emily’s right. ‘You look every bit as charming as Castor said. Let us introduce ourselves, I’m Hither.’
‘And I’m Thither,’ said the one on the left.
‘Hi, nice to meet you,’ said Emily. ‘I don’t mean to be nosy, but are you boys or girls?’
‘Ha, ha, ha, I thought for a moment you were going to ask to see our yellow bits!’ chortled Hither. ‘We’re both and neither. Slugs are hermaphroditic; we change so we can be either. We get the best of both worlds. I like being a slug!’
‘Can I see your yellow bits?’ asked Emily cheekily. If you don’t ask, you don’t see.
‘No.’
‘Just a wee peek.’
‘No!’
‘Are you black hole hunters?’ asked Emily.
‘We are. It’s dangerous work. Two spacecraft were lost last week. The trouble is that you can’t see or sense a black hole until you’re in its sphere of influence, where its gravity can get you. We have precise maps of the Asteroid Belt showing where we think the black holes are but once you’re actually there, it’s more art than science. At ten metres you can’t see them but if you touch one, you’re done for. It’s not a job for a family slug!’
‘It sounds more like luck than art.’
‘Shhhh, we’re very close now, so please stay quiet. Keep a sharp lookout and try not to think of anything but black holes.’
The spaceship stopped and the hyper-drive was shut down, leaving them sitting in silence in the starlit cockpit.
‘Put this on,’ whispered Hither, as a space helmet floated across to Emily.
Once she’d put it on, the side windows slid open.
The craft edged slightly to the left then back a bit. A white antimatter ring jingled its way off the dashboard and sat hovering by the open window. In the nothingness outside, Emily could just pick out the dull glow of a black hole about five metres away.
‘Now!’ said Thither, and the ring spun towards the black hole, which dodged out the way at the last minute sending the ring vanishing off into space.
‘Oops, they’re worth a billion dollars each,’ whispered Hither. ‘We’ll retrieve it later.’
Another ring floated off the dash and hovered to the left and then to the right as if sizing up its quarry.
The black hole jiggled about to as if trying to anticipate the white ring’s attack. Suddenly the white ring flew out, zigged to the left, zagged to the right and trapped the black hole, bingo! It opened out to form a cage and the craft edged sideways until it floated in the window.
‘You can have that one if you like, just watch your fingers!’
‘Oh, thank you,’ said Emily, giving Hither a kiss and slipping the black hole into her pocket.
‘Me too!’ said Thither and then quickly turned a rosy shade of pink when Emily gave him a real smackeroo on the cheek.
‘Now will you show me your yellow bits?’
‘No!’
‘Can I pop your pimple?’ asked Emily, noticing one on his cheek that just begged to be popped.
‘No!’
‘Go on, let me!’
‘No!’
As they shot off through space towards the next black hole, Thither said, ‘We keep quiet about it, but these black holes have personality. There are plodders, which are easy pickings. There’s the lively ones, like your one, that are playful and spirited, then there’s the attackers. That’s why we lose spaceships. If the big slugs knew, they would never let us go hunting.’
‘I thought they knew everything!’ said Emily.
‘Not everything, there’s nothing like a little disinformation!’
‘Anyway,’ continued Thither. ‘If one attacks, you have a few milliseconds to catch it or teleport. We had one last week that shot in one window and out the other. Close or what? We were shaking like jelly.’
Thinking of naked slugs wobbling like yellow jelly, Emily shuddered as she struggled to hold her laughter in. She felt like she would pop!
‘Can I?’ asked Emily, sizing up Thither’s zit.
‘No!’
They caught three more black holes; another lively one and two plodders. One was a whopper that the slugs were really pleased with.
Crack!
They teleported away from an attack.
‘That’s enough for the night,’ said Hither. ‘Another few missions and I’m retiring. It’s just too dangerous!’
They dropped Emily back on her doorstep and gave her a couple of white rings.
‘Practice throwing these,’ they said. ‘But be careful, they’re almost as dangerous as black holes. Worm holes you know.’
‘Thanks so much,’ said Emily. ‘I’d love to come out again sometime.’
‘Practice with those rings.’
‘Will do,’ she said. ‘Can I pop that pimple?’
Zimp!
They were gone.
Click!
Zimp!
Emily clicked her fingers.
She was on top of the hill looking out across the dark waters.
Click! Zimp!
She was back on her doorstep. She smiled to herself and going inside, lit the fire and cook up baked-beans on toast.
The slimeballs didn’t bother her in her dreams, it’d been an eventful evening and Emily slept like a log.
She was up again just a few hours later to see the sunrise.
Zimp, Zimp, Zimp, Zimp!
She teleported about the place.
Zimp!
Out to the sentry moon.
‘Good morning Castor.’
Zimp!
Back on her doorstep.
‘Good morning,’ she said to Zeus, who was sitting on her sofa twiddling with his beard.
‘Morning Emily,’ he said. ‘Good to see that you’ve figured it out. Do be careful, don’t expect to teleport out of trouble. If you’re stressed, the adrenaline cuts in and you can’t teleport.’
‘Can I teleport down to Earth?’
‘Remember, that you’re dead. It’s your funeral next week. I’ll mark it on my cal
endar and we’ll watch. I like funerals,’ he said, still twiddling with his beard. ‘You should only teleport around the vicinity of the asteroid you are on. Long distance, there’s a time difference between you and your destination and it’s not without its dangers. Did you ever see a film called The Fly?’
‘No.’
‘Good. It would put you off teleporting for life!’