Stamp Safari

Home > Other > Stamp Safari > Page 2
Stamp Safari Page 2

by Cameron Macintosh


  According to the Splinternet, Budgewick was a suburb of Bluggsville until the year 2143. For some reason it was renamed Bluggsville SouthWest-West. It’s not a part of the city I’ve ever been to. Jessie doesn’t know it very well either.

  “Well,” I say, “I think we’d better go and have a look around this Bluggsville South-West-West. It might give us some clues about what this object actually is.”

  Oscar leaps off my lap and runs out the workshop door.

  “It looks like you’re going right now!” laughs Jessie.

  “Why don’t you come with us?”

  “Sorry, Max, I’ve got two kilometers of used dental floss to clean. I’m sure you’ll get to the bottom of it.”

  I slide the sticky paper thing back into its pouch, and pop it into my pocket as we wave Jessie goodbye.

  CHAPTER 3

  Bluggsville South-West-West

  Five minutes later, we’re back at the Skyburb Down-station, tumbling into the next aircell down to ground level. When we get there, I ask Oscar to project up another map, to show us how far we are from Bluggsville South-West-West.

  According to the map, it’s about 5 kilometers away, so we’ll need to take a zip-coaster to get there. We run to the nearest zip-coaster station and hop into the front carriage of the first zip-coaster to arrive. It swirls across the city, looping-the-loop over buildings and under bridges. Before we know it, we’ve arrived at Bluggsville South-West-West Central Station.

  We jump out of the carriage, hop over the exit barrier and start walking down Bunnie Way, which seems to be the main street around here. It’s definitely not the prettiest street in Bluggsville. It’s full of junkshops and fast food restaurants, and an awful lot of traffic. The only interesting thing I can see is a perfectly preserved 1980s burger restaurant, selling Zip Chips and Bounce Burgers at very expensive prices. Oscar looks toward it with longing eyes, and sniffs toward the doorway.

  “Forget it, Oscar, those greasy burgers will only rust your joints,” I say, “and besides, I’ve only got $500 in my pocket. That won’t even buy us a small cola.”

  I don’t tell Oscar, but my stomach starts rumbling too. Those Zip Chips smell pretty good, but we’re here to work. There’s no time for unhealthy snacks - at least, not until we know what this tiny patch of paper is!

  “Let’s have a look around the neighborhood,” I say to Oscar. “There must be some kind of clue around here about the Budgewick Post Office -whatever it was!”

  One thing we do know is that Bluggsville South-West-West is definitely full of posts - old electricity posts. Maybe the red letters on the picture of Neptune Williams had something to do with those?

  The old concrete posts don’t get much use any more, now that electricity cables are all underground - but they’re all still here. We walk along Bunnie Way, inspecting each one of them. Looking up close, I notice that they all have little metal plates attached to them. The plates tell us the year they were put up, and who to contact if anything goes wrong with them.

  The first post we look at was only put up about a hundred years ago, but as we move along the street, the dates on the plates go back further and further. Soon, we’re looking at posts that were put up in the 2200s. Before long, we find ourselves checking out a post from the year 2019. Oscar leaps up and down in excitement.

  “I know, Oscar,” I yell, “that’s the year on our mystery sticky thing!”

  Looking around, it seems that we’ve wandered into a particularly old area of Bluggsville SouthWest-West. The buildings are made from bricks and glass, not the plastic cubes that most buildings are made from these days. Most of these buildings would have been here since the 21st century, so if there’s anything left of the Post Office, it must be nearby. I look around, checking every detail of every building. Apart from their incredible oldness, I can’t see anything too unusual about them.

  “Can you see anything that I can’t see?” I say to Oscar.

  Unfortunately, he can! There’s a robo-rat sitting on a garbage can across the street, and Oscar clearly likes the look of him. Before I can grab him, Oscar zips across the road as fast as his short metal legs will carry him.

  The robo-rat sees him coming. It slips over the nearest wall and into somebody’s backyard. By then, Oscar’s running so fast, he can’t slow down before he reaches the wall. He lifts his front paws up in front of his face and rolls onto his side... but a second later, he hits the wall with a sickening CRASH!

  I wait for a gap in the traffic, and hurry over to see if he’s okay. He’s lying flat on his stomach, shaking his head from side to side.

  “Oscar,” I say sternly, “I thought you’d grown out of your silly robo-rat obsession. I’m very disappointed.”

  Oscar sits up and looks at me with sad eyes. He seems to feel slightly guilty about his lack of selfcontrol. I can’t help feeling a bit sorry for him.

  “It’s okay, Oscar,” I sigh. “You don’t seem to have done yourself any major damage. That’s the main thing.”

  To be sure, I inspect him all over for scratches and dents. The worst I can see is a small dent on his left hind leg. Luckily, it’s nothing I won’t be able to smooth out when we get back to the storeroom.

  Just then, I notice something about the wall he crashed into. It seems to have sunk down into the ground over the years. Just along the bottom row of bricks, I can see the top of a row of faded letters. I’m pretty sure I can read a P, an O, an S, and a T. There’s a gap before some more letters: O, F, and another F.

  “Oscar,” I scream,“you’re brilliant! You’ve brought us to the exact spot we were hoping to find!”

  Suddenly Oscar pops up onto all four paws. He gives me a little bow and a very big smile.

  “So,” I say, “sometime about 400 years ago, our little picture of Neptune must have passed through here for some reason. And someone around here must have stamped those letters and numbers onto her.”

  The wall with the letters seems to have been the front wall of a building that no longer exists. I jump up and down to see what’s on the other side. Now, it’s just a junkyard, full of broken vehicle parts and rusting robot limbs. I can even see a family of robo-rats scavenging through the junk, but I decide not to tell Oscar about them! It’s just as well he can’t see over the wall from down there on the ground.

  It’s incredible that we’ve found the Post Office, but we still have no idea what it was. The old brick wall doesn’t seem to offer any clues about our mystery sticky thing, either.

  “What do we do now, Oscar?” I ask, throwing my hands into the air.

  Oscar makes the same gesture with his paws, and flops his ears downwards.

  “I wonder if we’re close to a Skyburb Up-station,” I say to him. “Can you send up another map projection, please?”

  Oscar’s very happy to help. The big red dot on his map tells us we’ve walked most of the way back to Spike’s shop.

  I suggest to Oscar that Spike might be worth another visit. Oscar doesn’t look very happy, but we don’t have many other options at the moment. If Spike knows something about Neptune Williams, maybe he can tell us more about the little piece of sticky paper in my pocket.

  Five minutes later, we’re standing outside Spike’s shop again, wondering what to say when we go in. Just then, Oscar starts twitching and running around in excited little circles.

  “What is it, pup?” I ask.

  He lifts a paw in the air and points at the shop next door. I squint until I can read the writing on the shop’s window. I’m pretty sure it says “Christina’s Crazy Costumes.”

  “I like your thinking, Oscar,” I say with a wink. “We might have an easier time with Spike if he doesn’t realize it’s us!”

  We walk into Christina’s shop and browse the racks and hangers. Oscar seems particularly excited by a camel outfit that looks about the right size for a beagle-bot. He takes it down from the rack and tries it on. It does look quite cute on him, especially the two humps on the back.

&
nbsp; I figure I’d better find a costume that matches Oscar’s. Very soon, I see it - a safari outfit, the kind that explorers used to wear when they trekked through jungles and deserts. It even comes with a hat and a mosquito net! I try it on, and we both admire our new looks in the mirror.

  This wasn’t quite how I planned to spend our Object Identification Bonus, but I pay Christina for our costumes, and we head straight back to Spike’s shop. He might think we look a bit strange, but there’s definitely no way he’ll recognize us!

  CHAPTER 4

  Sneaky Spike and Selby

  When we push through the door, the first thing we see is Spike at the counter, inspecting a set of plastic baseball cards. As soon as he sees us, he frowns and gives us a very suspicious look.

  “Can I help you, sir?” he asks.

  I put a hand to my throat and pretend I’ve lost my voice. I even throw in a few coughs for good measure. Then, when I get close enough to the counter, I whisper, “No thanks, we’re just browsing today”.

  “Browse away,” he says slowly. “Let me know if there’s anything I can do to help.”

  For a moment I think Spike might be nicer than we first thought. But as we search his shelves for sticky tennis players, I realize he’s watching every move we make.

  Apart from the poster, the only sign we see of Neptune Williams is a big plastic postcard, covered with pictures of 21st-century tennis players. I take the little piece of paper out of my safari pocket and compare the two pictures. Now, I’m absolutely certain that it’s her on our mysterious patch of paper.

  While I’m trying to read the words on Spike’s postcard, a sudden movement catches the corner of my eye. There’s a micro-mouse running across the top of the counter! I put a hand down to try to cover Oscar’s eyes, but it’s too late - he’s already seen it.

  Even though it isn’t a robo-rat, he can’t help himself. He leaps up onto the counter and slides along the top of it. All I can do is dive after him and try to grab hold of his tail.

  “Hey!” yells Spike. “No camels allowed on my counter!”

  I grab onto one of Oscar’s legs, and the next thing I know, his costume is ripping in half! He rolls off the edge of the counter as the micromouse darts toward the door at the back of Spike’s shop.

  Suddenly Spike’s face goes a very dark shade of red. “I should’ve known!” he cries. “You’re much too small to be a camel!”

  “It’s okay,” I reply with a wink, “we’re leaving now. It was nice to see you again!”

  Spike yells all sorts of impolite things at us as we hurry out of his shop for the second time.

  As we step out onto the street, I take a deep breath. “I won’t be in a hurry to see him again,” I say to Oscar.

  Oscar seems to agree. He winks, and then he lifts his leg and sprays a spurt of oil onto the bottom of Spike’s door.

  I scratch the top of his silver head, and reach into my pocket for our special piece of paper. Suddenly, my heart freezes. My pocket is empty. I try the other pocket - that one’s empty too.

  “Oscar,” I say, “please tell me you’ve got the Neptune Williams picture with you?”

  Oscar sits up and waves his empty paws at me.

  “Oh no,” I gulp. “Have a look through the door you just decorated.”

  We both stare through the oily glass and see our precious patch of paper, on the floor below the front edge of the counter. I must have dropped it when I tried to grab Oscar on the counter. As much as I don’t want to go back in there, it looks like that’s our only choice. I open the door and walk toward the counter.

  “Don’t you shadies ever get the hint?” says Spike with a sigh. “I don’t want people like you in my shop.”

  Now it’s me who loses control! The next thing I know, I’m giving Spike my shadiest glare, with my hands on my hips.

  I’m searching my mind for a witty reply when Spike’s mouth suddenly drops open. His eyes are flicking up and down between me and something above my head. I turn around to see what it is.

  On the wall, in the middle of a holo-poster display, is a very familiar face - mine! Beside me there’s a very bad drawing of a robo-dog that’s probably meant to be Oscar. Below the pictures, in big black letters, is a very worrying word:

  WANTED!

  Below that, it says “Escaped urchins - report to authorities immediately.”

  There’s no time for witty replies. “Quick, Oscar!” I yell. “Grab the paper thing!”

  Oscar slides across the floor and laps up the paper with his greasy tongue. Just as we’re running back toward the door, I hear a loud click as two metal bars drop down in front of it. And then I see Spike slide on a pair of phone goggles and request connection to the Unclaimed Urchins Recapture Squad.

  “No!” I yell. “You don’t understand - we’re not criminals!”

  “Not criminals? Then why did you come to my shop with a stolen sticker?”

  “It’s not stolen - we found it!”

  “And where exactly did you find it?”

  I gulp again. If I tell him where we found it, Jessie will be in big trouble, and we’ll be out on the streets again.

  Only a few seconds later, there’s a loud knock on the door. Through the glass, I see a face I’ve been avoiding for nearly two years now. Oscar darts between my legs and shivers like a wobbling washing machine.

  “Don’t move an inch, shade brain,” says Spike. “You’ll only make things worse for yourselves.”

  He presses a button on his wrist and the two metal bars slide up and out of sight. The door opens, and in comes Squad Captain Selby, followed by three of his trusted helpers.

  “Well well,” he gloats. “I’ve finally caught up with Maxwell Angus Booth. What a nice day to take him and his rusty robo-mutt back where they both belong.”

  Oscar suddenly stops shivering and starts growling.

  “Don’t let him bother you, Oscar,” I say quietly. “He hasn’t got us yet.”

  I look around the shop - there’s absolutely nowhere to run. Apart from the front door, there’s only one other, but it’s right behind the counter. Spike’s standing in front of it like we might try to escape, or something.

  “Wrists out, weed features,” says Selby with a smirk.

  This time, there’s no other choice. I hold my hands out and Selby locks them into a set of cuffs.

  Oscar looks up at me with big sad eyes. “You’re giving up that easily, Max?” he seems to be saying.

  It breaks my heart, but surrounded by Spike, Selby and another three meat-headed monsters, what else can I do?

  Oscar certainly isn’t ready to surrender. He growls and nips at Selby’s left foot. Not having teeth, he doesn’t do much damage.

  “Someone grab that useless flea-bot!” yells Selby. One of his lieutenants picks Oscar up in his arms like a metal baby. Oscar squirms with all his battery power, but there’s not much he can do now either.

  “Thank you, sir,” Selby says to Spike. “You’ve done a great service to the people of Bluggsville.

  We’ve been trying to take these thieving weasels off the streets for a very long time.”

  Oscar and I look at each other. We’re both speechless. There’s nothing we can do to help each other. At least, that’s what I think until Selby drags me outside and I see a family of robo-rats on a shop roof across the street. I know Oscar will do a superhuman squirm if he sees them! But I need to make sure he sees them at just the right moment.

  “Oscar!” I yell. “Look me in the eye, and don’t look anywhere else!”

  He seems a bit confused by the order, but he does his best to obey. I keep my eyes locked onto Oscar’s as Selby turns me around and marches me toward his lock-up van-copter. Just before we get there, I look up toward the rooftop. Straightaway, Oscar does the same. The moment he spies the rats, he shoots out a spurt of steam from his leg joints.

  The man holding him yelps — and drops him in the gutter! Oscar darts between Selby’s legs and zips across the road
.

  It’s just the distraction I need. For a fraction of a fraction of a second, Selby lets go of my arm and I run the other way.

  Selby yells orders at his team, and they split into two. Selby and his biggest, scariest lieutenant chase after me. The other two go for Oscar.

  I run as fast as I can, but with my hands cuffed together, it’s hard to build up speed. Usually, I’d easily outrun Selby and his lumbering lieutenants, but today, it’s not looking so good.

  I run onto the road, dodging the hover-skaters, wip-walkers, and Zigway strollers. I can hear Selby’s footsteps getting louder behind me, so I leap onto the drainpipe of a pizza restaurant, and start hauling myself up toward the roof. It isn’t very easy with both hands locked together!

 

‹ Prev