“I think I would like to go home now,” said Heen as they slipped past the guard.
Carina didn’t want to argue. She had enjoyed the company of the boys, but things were getting dangerous.
“OK. I’ll try to send back to your own world, but Tycho and I need to travel on,” Jaime said with a hint of sadness.
Past the windows of the loading bay they could see the colourful skycart sat invitingly nearby.
“Quick! The skycart is here. With any luck we’ll soon be on our way.”
While Carina and Jaime ran the short distance to the far side of the loading bay Heen helped Tycho hobble along behind. The two older children reached the skycart and had taken a few steps inside before they realised things were different. From the little amount of light coming in from the doorway they could see the skycart was almost empty. The floor was bare except for a wooden table and next to it four chairs.
“We’re too early. The robots haven’t started their loading yet,” shouted a frustrated Jaime.
Panicking he grabbed Carina’s arm and pulled her towards the door, but before they had gone two steps the skycart door swung shut trapping them inside.
Tycho and Heen were a dozen steps from the skycart when the door closed. Heen screamed Carina’s name but was stopped by Tycho fearing they would be overheard. He spoke to his wrist pleading for Newton’s advice, but the sulking tattoo stayed silent.
Inside the skycart Carina and Jaime pushed, kicked, shouted and banged but they couldn’t open the door. Their shouts and bangs remained unanswered, no sound travelled through the well insulated walls. In despair both pairs sat exhausted, a short distance apart, unaware of each other and unable to decide on their next move.
****
Across the main dome, at the police headquarters, Mr Phobos sat contentedly. The Chief of Police, glass of Champagne fizzing on the table in front of him, sat opposite. It had been an exhausting time congratulating each other on how much money each had made from bullying and taxing their people. As they raised a glass in honour of each other’s achievements a constable walked in.
“The trap has been sprung. We’ve caught the rats at last,” he announced.
“Are you sure they can’t escape?” growled Mr Phobos, not daring to celebrate too soon.
“Not a chance,” snorted the Chief with a smirk that covered his entire face. “I planned the trap myself,” which raised an eyebrow from the constable who knew that wasn’t true.
“Your problem will soon be eliminated and I guarantee they won’t escape the skycart. Soon it will rise up into orbit then we open its doors and whoosh all your problems get sucked into space. It’s a nice clean solution with no nasty evidence left behind. I doubt if they will ever be found and if they are, well it would seem like a tragic accident.”
The two men raised their glasses to a job about to be well done.
Chapter 13
Outside the Dome
Heen banged her fists against the door.
“Newton please can you help us? We can’t get into the skycar,” cried Tycho.
Newton remained silent despite Tycho’s threats to have him replaced. The door stayed shut resisting all Heen’s attempts to pull it open. She placed an ear against the door but there was only silence.
“Let’s find another entrance.” Heen suggested as she inspected the skycart door for the seventh time, but Tycho was too busy thinking to listen.
“There’s something I don’t understand,” Tycho puzzled. “Look at the loading bay - it’s full. All the crates are still waiting to be loaded so the skycart must be empty. Why shut the doors now? It would cost a fortune to send an empty skycart into space.”
Heen had no answer to Tycho’s question and she thought there was far more urgency in finding a hidden doorway. She ran her fingers over the smooth walls feeling for the slightest bump or crack, but found nothing.
“If you want to find a way in I could offer a suggestion,” squeaked a tinny voice.
“Newton! Where did you go?” admonished Heen.
“What stupid questions this girl asks. I’m a tattoo. I don’t go anywhere,” it replied testily.
“I mean why didn’t you help us earlier? Oh never mind. Tell us how we can get into the skycart.”
“There is a small hatch that you could use, but you would need to go outside the dome to use it,” advised the tattoo, secretly relieved that Heen was too distracted to insist on an answer to her question.
“That’s no problem, let’s go,” a smile spread across Heen’s face.
Tycho frowned, “Heen, don’t you remember what Newton told us about the poisonous plants and animals that live outside the dome? It would be safer to catch the next skycart and join Jaime and Carina later. I’m sure they’d wait for us up on the space platform.”
Heen scowled, she wasn’t going to let Tycho stop her from being reunited with her sister, and soon they were heading back towards the town. Tycho hobbled along complaining with every step. Inside the transparent dome there were no signs of the police, and the only evidence they had ever been there was the sight of the stallholders busily repairing their stands.
Newton led them to a scraggy bush at the bottom of the same grassy bank where they had rested earlier. After clearing handfuls of twigs they found a transparent hatch through which they could see the outside of the dome. Hanging beside the hatch and covered in thick spider’s webs were eight large armoured suits, they were lightweight and covered with tiny metal chains. Underneath each suit was a helmet, gloves and a pair of boots.
Unlike the jumpsuits they had worn earlier these ones were not airtight. Instead they were immensely strong despite being full of tiny holes (allowing the skin to breathe in such a hot and dry atmosphere). As they stood in these oversized suits the clothing shrank to exactly fit their size. They felt exceptionally comfortable.
“Wow! This is SO much fun!” Heen exclaimed as she skipped along in her new suit, helmet gloves and boots.
“We must be mad. I still say that we should hide somewhere and wait for the next skycart,” implored Tycho.
He unhooked a long stick that was still hung on the peg after he had removed his suit. It had a black button next to a curved handle and several small silver circles attached to a golden disc at the other end.
“I’ll use this to help me walk. I wonder what it is.” Tycho mused as he spun the stick in his gloved hands.
“I’ve got one too,” replied Heen, unhooking an identical stick from her peg.
“It reminds me of an umbrella. Maybe it rains a lot outside the dome. Try pressing the button, maybe it will open up.”
Tycho pressed his thumb against the button as Newton protested.
“No, do not press the button, it’s a...”
The rest of Newton’s sentence was drowned out by a sharp fizzing noise and a dazzling tongue of flame coming from the end of the stick. The hatch that had been there a moment ago was now a steaming mass of foul-smelling gunk and in the middle was a gap big enough for them to climb through together. Both Heen and Tycho took a quick look back towards the town. Had someone heard or seen them? Luckily for the moment all the stallholders appeared to be asleep.
“Wow. A magic wand,” gasped an impressed Heen.
“It really isn’t magic. It’s a multi-energy gun, useful for all sorts of situations. Spin the golden disc and you get different levels of energy when you pull the trigger,” grumbled Newton pompously.
Tycho pointed at the hole, “I think we might need it. We could meet some nasty creatures out there.”
Tycho’s attempt to frighten Heen hadn’t succeeded. She swung her stick like a cheerleader’s baton and walked with the confidence of someone twice her age towards the steaming gap.
“Hold on Heen. Don’t you remember how we stopped anyone from following us up on the space platform?” Tycho cautioned as he gathered up the remaining suits. “If we take all the suits they’re far
less likely to follow. Take a couple and I’ll bring the rest.”
“Sure, but with your ankle it’ll take us all day,” grumbled Heen. She took an armful of clothes from Tycho and to her surprise managed to squeeze all the suits, boots, gloves and helmets into her backpack.
“Newton, is there anything else you can tell us? Like what monsters might be out there?” asked Tycho.
“There are twelve types of dangerous animal, forty-three different types of deadly insect, over nine hundred varieties of venomous plants and thousands of different lethal fungal spores that all live outside the dome,” Newton shrilled.
“I’ve heard about these. If you breathe in the spores they will sprout inside your body and continue to grow until they eat you all up,” interrupted Tycho.
“Don’t worry Tycho. I’ll not be taking off my faceplate for anyone not even to kiss you!” Heen gave Tycho a look full of disgust.
The tattoo continued to list the dangerous things found lurking outside the dome but the children were too preoccupied to listen.
“Phew. It’s even hotter out here than in the dome,”
Heen offered to help take the weight off Tycho’s bad ankle, but he pulled away and started to run along a muddy path.
“This is amazing. Heen my ankle doesn’t hurt anymore, it must be these boots,” Tycho cried with relief as he admired his shiny new footwear.
Then without warning his feet froze while the rest of his body fell towards the ground. His stick went flying into the air and into the middle of a thorn bush. His feet were tied together by several long fronds of what appeared to be grass.
The plant-creatures had risen unseen from the mud and wrapped their grass-like tentacles around Tycho’s boots. Waving their fronds like eyeless snake heads they blindly searched for any gaps or holes in the suit that might lead to exposed flesh. Heen tried to help Tycho to his feet, but was driven away by five small thorn bushes that began pushing her like sheepdogs herding sheep.
Once they were satisfied Heen was far enough from the stricken boy three of the bushes renewed their attack while the other two kept guard. Circling Tycho and swishing their long branches menacingly towards him they grew nearer with each revolution. Once they were close enough for their branches to touch the bushes fought amongst themselves. They whipped their spiky leaves and gouged their thorns slicing into each other. Tycho had become the battle prize and Heen was left with no doubt that she would be next.
One bush, whipped badly by its bigger companions, oozed a thick blue slime from its trunk and retreated from the battle. The remaining bushes raised their branches and sent them crashing down onto Tycho’s legs. Suckers appeared all along their length rasping, scraping and chewing at the armour but they were unable to penetrate the tiny chains. Hoping to distract them Heen screeched and shouted but the creatures either couldn’t hear or they ignored her. Grasping her stick she aimed ahead of Tycho’s boots and at the squirming roots of the nearest bush. Pressing the trigger merely produced a strong bright light that seemed only to strengthen the resolve of the bushes. Swishing their branches in anger and frustration the bushes dragged Tycho by his boots across the alien landscape.
“Tycho, I’ve made them worse, what do I do?” screamed Heen.
Managing to sit up as he was pulled across the ground Tycho was too busy to answer. He tried to untie the branches that had wrapped themselves around his ankles but their suckers held firm. In desperation he removed a glove to reveal his tattoo. The plants immediately sensed the warmth from his exposed skin and swung their branches across searching for flesh. Heen gasped in horror as the first bush reached Tycho’s wrist.
Spinning the gold disc ninety degrees Heen crossed her gloved fingers.
“Please let it work!” she muttered under her breath.
She pressed the trigger and the light burned so hot that the nearest bush flared with a bright blue flame before crumbling into a fine black powder that was then whisked away by the breeze. Heen coughed as a strong garlic-like stench wafted behind her faceplate making her eyes water. She directed her stick at the other bushes and the fronds gripping Tycho’s legs. Soon a large cloud of black powder drifted over them.
“Thanks Heen,” Tycho gasped with relief.
“Thanks for saving me Mr Grumpy,” he added sarcastically as he gazed angrily at the blotch on his wrist.
Tycho got to his feet and grinned at Heen who had begun to shout a few choice words of her own at Newton.
A squeaky voice piped up, “I knew you were in no danger, but I’m here now.”
Heen shook her head with anger. She was beginning to think that having a tattoo for a companion wasn’t such a good idea after all.
“What were those things? Were they plants or animals?” Heen shuddered.
“A bit of both I guess, or maybe neither,” replied Tycho.
“So what was wrong with Newton? Is he a coward?”
This touched Newton’s nerves (if he had any). The tattoo started shouting curses every bit as colourful as they had heard coming from the mouth of Madam Monplaisir.
“I would have loved to have helped you ignorant thrag. Don’t you know that I’m prohibited from killing any living thing?” he hissed.
“That’s a lie. You’ve never told me that before!” Tycho shouted.
“So I’ve had a software upgrade,” the tattoo calmly replied.
“You said that tattoos cannot harm anyone, but that newsreel showed someone getting injured by that spinning top tattoo, Archimedes,” Heen puzzled.
“Yes, but I wasn’t born on Goldilocks the tattoos here are different. These tattoos are allowed to hurt people, all the more reason to stay away from them,” answered Newton.
Heen thought that Newton’s talk of being born was strange. She felt sorry for Tycho having a tattoo like him stuck forever on your wrist must be exasperating.
“Come on Heen we ought to find this skycart hatch, if it exists, before anything else nasty turns up,” Tycho tugged hard on Heen’s arms.
They were hoping to avoid any further encounters with the planet’s wildlife, but several times they had to dodge vegetation that weaved together to form nets, and others that dangled lures shaped like teddy bears. The children were ready for them and used their sticks to burn anything that got too close.
They were a few steps from the hatch when they heard an unusual sound.
Pop, pop, pop. Pop, pop, pop, pop, pop. Pop, pop, pop.
It seemed to be coming from a tree silhouetted against the horizon. The pair stood transfixed. Tycho gripped Heen’s arm digging in his finger nails until she protested. Had the police found them? Were they being shot at? They watched a smoky-edged black cloud rise from the tree and head their way. It seemed to be travelling at speed and getting nearer by the second. It reminded Heen of a great cloud of birds swirling in the sky, or shoals of fish frolicking in the sea. Whatever it was it was undeniably coming towards them.
Rubbing his eyes and breaking the spell Tycho ran towards the skycart hatch. He tried twisting the handle that held its cover in place, but it refused to move. Tycho kicked the cover as hard as he could thankful for the strength of his new boots. Eventually the cover snapped and flew into the space beyond. It left a vent big enough for a child to squeeze through.
“Not more tunnelling?” Heen cried.
She clambered in, arms first, but when she was less than halfway something from the darkness on the other side of the vent grabbed her. She tried shrieking a warning to Tycho, but it was too late, he too was pulled into the darkness. Behind them the cloud of seeds from the distant tree rained down where they had stood moments before, they were as sharp as arrowheads and their poisonous tips as deadly as any bullet.
****
“Prepare to launch,” Mr Phobos snorted. “I feel like a kid with a new toy. I’m going to enjoy this. Thaddeus Phobos you are a genius!”
He sneered at a skycart engineer who stood nervously by
his side.
“I trust the cameras are working. I will enjoy seeing their fear when I send the command to open the airlock doors and watch them get sucked out into space. Do we have microphones? I hope so. I’d love to hear their cries as they fly helplessly into space.”
The engineer was troubled. There had not been time to fit any sound recording equipment and besides everybody knows that you can’t hear sound in space. Everyone except Mr Phobos, and the engineer thought it best not to tell him.
Mr Phobos wanted to make as much of this occasion as he possibly could.
“Five, four, three, two, one, lift-off.”
His hand hovered over the switch then casually flicked it.
“Bye bye sewer rats that should be the last we ever see of you.”
“Until I watch you die horribly in space,” he added chuckling to himself.
Chapter 14
The Job
Jaime swore and kicked at the skycart walls in frustration he and Carina had spent the last hour searching for a way out but now they looked defeated. There were no hidden doors, no hidden trapdoors in the floor and the grills covering the air vents had resisted their tugs. Both had shouted until their throats felt raw, but if anyone had heard their cries they hadn’t revealed themselves.
He stroked his wrist until a fireball burned in the air above them. Flicking his fingers the fireball shrank until it was a tiny dot burning white hot against the skycart wall. For several minutes the fireball blazed until he lowered his arm and the ball disappeared.
“Look at that, there’s not even the slightest mark on the paint, not even the tiniest smudge!” Jaime complained.
He slapped his hand hard against the wall.
“It’s not even warm!”
Carina sat, agonising how had she allowed herself to get into this mess?
“Can’t you ask your tattoo for help?” she groaned.
Jaime remained gloomy as he sat next to her.
“No, my tattoo is pretty basic, not like Newton,” he sighed.
Carina was close to tears.
“Don’t worry Carina I’m sure we’ll find a way out,” Jaime lied.
Carina was reminded how she had spoken those same words to Heen in the cavern. Her words had been an empty promise and there was no reason to believe Jaime’s words would be any different. But she so wanted to believe. Her eyes began to water.