The Greenwich Interplanetary Society

by Stuart Boyd

Chapter 10: The Kicking Nelly

  Helix didn’t like the idea of going on a spacewalk at all. It had taken all of Stella’s persuasion, bribes and threats to get the dog into his baggy spacesuit. Doctor Dodds seemed to have a selection of them, in all different shapes and sizes (including one that was shaped like a fish). All of them were made from a thick, shiny material and had weighted boots. Stella selected a small spacesuit for herself and a four-legged one for Helix. Stella dragged the reluctant husky on a lead that was attached to the wrist of her suit. Doctor Dodds was waiting by the ladder to the observation dome. Grandas was also in the observatory. He’d shown an interest in ‘a nice valk on deck also’.

  “Don’t worry, old friend, a quick space walk will do you no end of good. Work off a bit of the space living, eh?” Dodds said, patting Helix’s stomach.

  Helix started barking such awful language that Stella had to put the glass space helmet over his head to muffle the worst of it. The helmet looked like a large goldfish bowl, but it didn’t stop Helix from yelping abuse.

  “I’m sorry. I don’t know what’s got into him,” Stella said.

  “If I didn’t know any better, I’d say he’s scared of space walking,” Dodds shouted.

  Stella didn’t know if Helix heard Doctor Dodds, but he immediately stopped barking and gave Dodds a filthy stare. Deeply offended, Helix began trying to climb up the ladder to the observatory. Stella felt as if he was trying to prove to Dodds that he wasn’t afraid. Grandas reached down an arm and easily scooped the dog onto the platform.

  “How long have you known Helix?” Stella asked her great-uncle, wondering whether there were things about her dog that she didn’t know.

  “Like I said, we’re old friends,” Dodds replied. “Don’t worry about Helix. Once he’s out there, he’ll love it.”

  Dodds then passed a thick pipe up to Grandas, who looped it through the middle of a thick ring of metal that he was holding. Dodds screwed the pipe onto a round hole in the side of Stella’s spacesuit. Stella heard a hiss as she felt the suit inflate with air.

  “Now remember, this pipe is your air supply,” Dodds explained. “Helix is attached to it through his lead. Any problems, give it a tug and we’ll pull you back. The soles of your boots are weighted with moon rock, so as long as you don’t go too far, you’ll always float back to the ship. Now have fun.”

  Dodds helped Stella up to the ladder, and Grandas hauled her up to the observatory platform.

  “Ready for space valk, Stella Mayveader?” Grandas asked. “I close hatch now, so everybody down there not get sucked into space.”

  Stella nodded that she was okay. She had started to feel a bit queasy now that she was actually on the brink of stepping outside and didn’t trust herself to speak. ‘I suppose this is what Wendell feels like,’ Stella thought to herself.

  “Ve make a spacefarer out of you yet, Stella Mayveader.” Grandas chuckled, as he latched on her space helmet.

  He then closed the hatch and pushed at the glass wall of the observatory. Stella winced. Although she couldn’t hear anything, she was sure that Grandas’s bricklike hands would shatter the glass. Instead, the glass seemed to stretch outwards, like someone pressing through cling-film, until Grandas tore a neat flap through the observatory wall and flicked it outwards, like he was opening a tent.

  Stella felt herself get lighter and tried to take a timid step forward, but even this small bit of motion vaulted her out of the observatory and onto the deck. Grandas reached out a steadying hand and grabbed hold of her. Stella was glad, as she was finding her weightlessness a little dizzying. It didn’t help that all she could hear was the sound of her own breathing. She pushed these panicky feelings back into her stomach, though, and started to become aware of what was around her. Helix was also rising off into space, his legs pumping feverishly, looking as if he was running into the air. Stella took a grip on his lead and guided him downwards. Grandas gave her a thumbs-up gesture, to check whether she was okay, and she gave him a thumbs-up in reply.

  The other four Cragulons bounded over to join her. Each one shook her by the hand and guided her over to look at the rigging. At first, she took tentative steps, worried over her lack of control, but as she got used to bobbing around, she began to get more confident. One of the Cragulons made the motion to jump and nodded to her. Stella nodded back, and the gargoyle gripped hold of her sleeve and jumped into the air. Stella jumped too, shouting out an unexpected whoop. She couldn’t believe she was flying. The Cragulon guided her back to the deck and made another motion, like diving. Taking his cue, Stella leapt into the air again, with her arms outstretched. One of the Cragulons jumped up too and waved as they crossed paths in mid somersault. When she landed, she realised she had bounced from one end of the deck to the other.

  Stella and Helix joined Grandas and his cousins in an acrobatic game of zero-gravity tag amongst the rigging. Stella found herself spinning and leaping further and higher, until she was so out of breath she had to rest, clinging onto one of the rope ladders that hung from the masts. Weighing the lightness of a feather, she found it very easy to guide herself up to the top of the mast and crawl into a crow’s nest that sat atop of it. Looking upwards, Stella felt as if the whole universe span above her. The lightness of her body seemed to be shared by her mind, and she couldn’t stop laughing.

  She saw Helix spinning above her. He was trying to do some somersaults of his own. Stella could see his tail wagging energetically in his spacesuit. His earlier fear seemed to have floated away. Stella pulled at his lead and began to guide the dog into a figure of eight. This spurred Helix to new efforts. He began arching into loop the loops and spirals like some manic kite: his tongue lolling out of his mouth, as he panted in glee.

  Stella was about to leap out again when she felt a tug against the air pipe on her suit. She searched out Grandas, who motioned for her to go back to the observatory. The other Cragulons had stopped their antics and were scrambling about the deck, tugging at the sail ropes. Stella looked around to see what had disturbed them. The answer loomed immediately above her.

  A gigantic spaceship had come alongside the Attic. Stella could see that on one side of the ship there was a row of hatches, like shadowy pits gouged into the side of the hull. A shaft of light from a nearby sun stretched along the length of the strange ship, revealing lines of cannons inside the hatches, and each one of them was pointed at the Attic.

  Stella started to pull on Helix’s lead to gather him back towards her. At first, he seemed reluctant to be reined in, but once he saw the ship behind them, he thrashed his legs furiously, trying to propel himself towards her. Her dog safely under her arm, Stella jumped down off the crow’s nest. Grandas was by the observatory, waving at her to hurry. With a couple of leaps, Stella made it to the glass dome, and Grandas dragged both her and Helix inside.

  Grandas pulled the flap that he had made back into place, and the smooth bubble of the observatory was whole again. He pulled up the circular hatch in the floor to let in some air. After a few seconds, he gave Stella the thumbs-up, and she began to unfasten her helmet. Helix was shaking his head, trying to loosen his helmet.

  “Hold still,” Stella said, when she’d pulled her helmet off, and began to take off Helix’s

  “What’s happened, Grandas? What is that ship?”

  “Is bad. Very, very bad, Stella Mayveader. Dat ship is pirate ship!”

  “Pirates?”

  “Ya. Dey sail in space, robbing oder ships. You try to resist. Boom! Dey fire wid space cannon. You okay? Dodds needs Grandas in engine room.”

  Once out of his spacesuit, Helix jumped down the ladder and bounded off into the wheel room, with Stella close behind him.

  Doctor Dodds, Wendell and Tom were already there. They were staring at a bee-console that was busy foaming out an image. The smoke revealed a bulky figure wearing a large, wide-brimmed hat.

  “This be Captain Dreadcut, of this here privateer vessel, Kicking Nelly. Stand to, and prepare to be board
ed, fer ye ship and any bounty ye may be carryin’ are now mine!” a voice cackled out of the b-mail speaker.

  “Captain Dreadcut!” Wendell cried. “The most fearsome pirate that ever sailed the stars.”

  “That’s if you believe all the hype,” Dodds retorted.

  Stella agreed with Wendell: Captain Dreadcut did look fearsome, two cutlasses, their handles crossing each other, hung from his waist, and a pistol hung from his neck. The face under the hat had a sharp beard that curled upwards at its tip and protruding eyes that gleamed manically.

  Dodds stepped forward in front of the image.

  “This is Doctor Wilberforce Dodds of the GIS Attic. Any attempt to waylay space traffic in this sector is prohibited by the laws of the Galactic Quorum.”

  This only prompted more laughter from Captain Dreadcut. “Looks like we got ourselves a lawyer here, boys. Quoting us laws and such, is he? What do you reckon we should do, Lieutenant Monkeyfoot? Turn on our tails and go home?” he mocked.

  Beside Dreadcuts’ image, another form appeared. It was slightly stooped and had a simianlike face topped by a bandanna.

  “Well, Cap’n, I don’t see any Galactic naval vessels hereabouts,” the figure said.

  “I think you may be right, Monkeyfoot. I don’t see any abouts neither. I guess that means we’ll just have to do exactly as we please.”

  “I reckon so too, Cap’n,” Monkeyfoot snarled.

  “We’re on vital interplanetary society business. I can’t let you take my ship,” Dodds said.

  “So you’re sure you’ll not surrender peaceable, then?” Dreadcut asked. “Good. We do like a bit of sport, don’t we, lads?”

  The sounds of whooping and laughing could be heard from the Kicking Nelly.

  “Let’s give ’em a taste o’ the cannon. Monkeyfoot, give the order to fire!”

  Monkeyfoot whooped, and there was a loud bang that could be heard from the b-mail.

  “Grab hold of something!” Dodds yelled.

  In the window lens, Stella could see a green flare that looked like a firework, fizz out of the Kicking Nelly. It arced towards the Attic and crashed into one of the chimney pots on the deck. The ship juddered, and Stella was almost knocked off her feet.

  “Where’s the Galactic navy when you need it?” Dodds muttered. “Look, I need a couple of minutes. I need you to try to dodge some of that cannon fire.”

  “Where are you going?” Tom wailed.

  “To see whether I can find a thirty-gun naval frigate,” he replied and rushed out of the wheel room.

  “I can help with the shields,” Stella said. She thrust down the lever that released the shield cords and looked through the lens, only to see a number of the green fireworks heading straight towards the port side of the ship. She waited until they had almost reached the hull and tugged hard at one of the cords. The Attic shook, but the shield had managed to fend off the barrage.

  The image of Captain Dreadcut just cackled harder. “Looks like they’ve got a bit of fight in ’em, lads. Give ’em another volley.”

  “Tom,” Stella snapped, “you’re the best at piloting the ship. Take the wheel!”

  Tom, who had been staring in horror at the b-mail, shook himself out of his stupor and took his place at the helm. “Right. Sorry about that. I freaked out for a bit there.”

  In the lens he could see another burst of flares as the Nelly fired on them again. He spun the wheel around hard and pressed on the pedal by his foot. The Attic dipped suddenly, and the cannon fire sailed over them.

  “I’ve been wondering what that pedal did,” Tom said.

  The Kicking Nelly had moved to chase them, preceded by the green trails of cannon fire.

  “I hope the Cragulons are okay,” Stella said.

  A quick glance in the lens showed that they had ripped off some spars and were using them as bats to hit away any cannon fire that threatened the rigging. Despite their efforts, the sails showed some signs of damage, with holes ripped through them. Also, some cannon fire had got through and smashed some rigging from the main mast.

  “Take us up, Tom,” Stella said. “They’re aiming for the rigging. The shields can only protect the hull.”

  “But if you miss, we’ll be smashed through with holes.”

  “I won’t miss,” Stella said.

  Tom angled the ship upwards and turned the Attic around so Stella could use the starboard shields. He swerved the ship from side to side, in order to evade the cannon fire and keep the Kicking Nelly as far as way from them as possible. Stella waited, her hands gripping the shield cords. The Kicking Nelly fired another volley, and Tom frantically span the wheel, lurching the Attic away. It wasn’t quite quick enough. Stella jerked on the port side shield and managed to deflect the majority of fire away, but there was a nasty ripping sound as some of the cannon fire blasted the portside shield off its hinges.

  “The portside shield is broken. Keep them to starboard, Tom,” Stella shouted.

  “I can’t keep them there for very long,” Tom replied grimly. “They’re getting too close.”

  Sure enough, the Kicking Nelly was aware that they had hit the Attic.

  “We’ve crippled her port shields, Cap’n,” Monkeyfoot said. “They can’t last too long now.”

  “What are you waiting for, then? Finish ’em off.” Dreadcut cackled.

  “Head for that moon,” Wendell cried.

  “What?” Stella said.

  “That moon! Over there!” Wendell bobbed in front of the lens, trying to get their attention.

  Stella peered around. Behind them there was a moon shining palely against a swirling dust cloud.

  “We’ll never make it,” Tom said. “They’ll cut us off before we get anywhere near it.”

  “No, they won’t,” Wendell said. “That dust cloud hides a gravity well. It’s like a dent in space. If we sail into it at the right angle, it’s like we’ll be going downhill. We can go faster!”

  “Are you sure?” Stella asked, tugging at the shield again to deflect another cannon flare.

  “Yes!”

  “Won’t they be able to do the same?” Tom asked. “They’ll be even quicker.”

  “Not if they don’t know about it. It’ll just push them off course.”

  “Well, we’ve got to do something,” Stella grunted. “That cannon fire’s coming thick and fast.”

  “Okay,” Tom said, and he spun the wheel around full circle.

  Stella bellowed into the horn that led to the engine room. “Grandas, we need full speed now.”

  “You got it,” was the tinny reply.

  The Attic jolted forward as they sped towards the gravity well.

  “Ah-ha!” Dreadcut cackled over the b-mail. “Making a run for it, are we? Reel ’em in, lads. Reel ’em in.”

  It looked as if the Attic’s desperate flight was doomed, as the Kicking Nelly easily outpaced them.

  “There it is!” Wendell shouted, banging against the window. In front of them was a moving whirlpool of dust and space debris. It seemed to distort the space around them.

  “Head straight for the middle, Tom.”

  “Here we go!” Tom shouted.

  They all gave a yell as the Attic spurted forward. The Attic shot down and then up again, out of the gravity well, whilst the Kicking Nelly only caught the edge of the well and rebounded away. There were howls of outrage coming from the pirate ship as it started spinning in helpless circles.

  “After ’em, you currs. Don’t let ’em get away,” Dreadcut bellowed.

  The b-mail image showed him leaning at an odd angle. His hat was askew, and his beard was twitching in anger. The spurt of speed enabled the Attic to get out of range and sail directly for the moon.

  “It worked,” Stella cried jubilantly. “Nice bit of navigating, there, Wendell.”

  “Yeah, we needed that,” Tom agreed.

  Wendell flushed a pleased, pinkish hue. “It was nothing. Simple stuff for a trainee navigator.”

  “The
y’re still after us,” Stella declared.

  The lens showed that the Kicking Nelly had recovered its bearings and was chasing after them again. Tom kept his course straight towards the moon, which was getting larger and larger in the screen. They didn’t have any clue what the Kicking Nelly was doing because the ship to ship b-mail was only billowing out a fizzing static. Both ships were in a desperate race to the moon.

  “If you get too close to the moon, we’re going to crash,” Stella said to Tom.

  “I know. I’ve got an idea. I’m going to try to lose them on the other side of it. I need to be tight enough against the surface, so they can’t see me when I slingshot around. Hopefully, they’ll head straight past us,” Tom replied.

  The Kicking Nelly was steadily getting closer and started firing again. Stella had to use the shields again as they were just in range. Glancing behind her on the lens, Stella noticed that there was a spacesuited figure on the deck with the Cragulons. She recognised Dodds’s moustache through his space helmet.

  “Uncle Dodds is on the deck,” she said.

  “I hope he’s come up with something because if my idea doesn’t work, they’ll have caught up with us,” Tom said.

  The surface of the moon was so close that individual craters could now be seen on it. The Attic accelerated again, as the moon’s gravity started to pull them towards it.

  “You best hold onto something,” Tom yelled, and he turned the wheel sharply.

  The Kicking Nelly fired another burst of cannon fire, but it sailed past them as the Attic veered sharply across the moon. From the corner of her eye, Stella could see that Doctor Dodds was hanging vertically off one of the rope ladders with one hand, as the Attic tilted horizontally. She spotted a flash of something gold that spun out of the grip of his other hand.

  The Attic had almost travelled full circle around the moon.

  “Did they fall for it?” Tom asked, peering through the lens behind him.

  The answer laughed nastily out of the b-mail speaker. Directly in front of the Attic loomed the Kicking Nelly. Captain Dreadcut and Monkyfoot appeared again out of the b-mail image.

  “You must think old Captain Dreadcut was born yesterday to fall for the spin around the moon trick,” Dreadcut sneered. “You’ve led us a merry chase, me beauties, but now there’s nowhere left to run. Do yer surrender yer ship? Or do we blast yer out o’ the stars?”

  “Cap’n!” Monkeyfoot tugged at Dreadcut’s sleeve. “Cap’n, you better look at this.”

  “What are yer blatherin about, you great loon?” Dreadcut asked, tugging his arm away.

  In answer, a red flare of cannon fire arced over the Kicking Nelly.

  “Oh, me gizzards, Cap’n. It’s the Triumph!” Monkeyfoot whined.

  Sailing out from behind the moon was a gleaming giant of a ship.

  “I don’t believe it. The Triumph! Out here?” Captain Dreadcut gibbered.

  “Do we fire on her, Cap’n?” Monkeyfoot asked.

  “Turn her about, you great chimp. That’s the flagship of the galactic naval fleet out there. With thirty guns to blast us to smithereens.” Dreadcut started beating Monkeyfoot into action with his hat. “Run, I say, run! I’ll not risk the Nelly being breached.”

  The b-mail cut off, and the Kicking Nelly swiftly turned around and sped off, chased by the Triumph, an occasional blast of cannon fire fizzing after them.

  “That was lucky! That ship turning up when it did,” Tom said.

  “Lucky? It had nothing to do with luck.” The voice of Dodds carried across the wheel room. He was still wearing bits of his spacesuit. “It had a great deal more to do with a tin of very powerful illusion.”

  Something clicked in Stella’s mind. “I saw that you chucked something gold-coloured into space when you were on deck. It was one of those cans, wasn’t it? The ones in the storeroom.”

  “You didn’t play with any of those, did you?” The colour drained from Dodds’s face. “They’re really quite volatile. I really mustn’t let Gladys do the packing. It’s bad enough that we’ve got Jupitopus tentacles for dinner.”

  “You mean that ship wasn’t real?” Stella asked.

  “No. I doubt whether the Triumph has ever sailed within a million light years of this place. Each one of those tins you were playing with contains the particles of a very sophisticated space phenomenon that I stumbled across a few years back. I was on an expedition to a nebula where a person’s worst fears were reflected back at them. It took me ages to work out that it was all an illusion. I canned a few specimens taken from the nebula, to study later.”

  “Well, it looked pretty convincing,” Tom said.

  “Yes, but it’ll wear off soon, and I don’t think we should be here when those pirates find out. Turn us around, Tom. Let’s get going.”

  “Which way do we go?” he asked.

  “Just past that constellation that looks like a shark,” Wendell blurted out. When he realised they were staring at him, he said, “…I think.”

  “See what happens when you study?” Dodds said approvingly. “That was pretty fancy flying by all of you, by the way.”

  “Yeah, we should enter the Intergalactic1000,” Wendell exclaimed.

  “The Intergalactic1000? Never heard of it,” Tom said.

  “Well, it’s like a really long race, from one end of the galaxy to the other. All the best teams in the universe enter. Although not all of them finish. It’s really exciting, what with all the asteroid fields and passing through the space-dragon zone. We should enter. I bet we’d be brilliant at it.”

  “Not in this ship!” Dodds said firmly.

  ***