by Steve Cole
“Er … great,” said Iggy, blushing.
“Arx, you and the professor had better get to work too,” said Teggs.
“Yep! Lead on, big fella!” McMoo and Pat followed Arx from the room, and Iggy and Bo left after them.
“What about us, Captain?” said Gipsy.
“In some ways, we have the hardest job,” said Teggs. “We must think of a way to get into meat-eater space without starting a war – before Toro and his friends start their own!”
The cows and the astrosaurs got straight to work.
Arx, the professor and Pat bundled a C. rex into the Sauropod’s medical lab.
“We can put him through a super-cell scanner,” Arx suggested. “It will tell us how much of him has turned cow and how much is still T. rex.”
“Great!” said McMoo. “Let’s check the DNA-flux too – that will tell us whether the change is reversible or if he’s stuck this way for ever.”
“Good thinking!” said Arx with excitement. “Of course, if we add in an impact-sweeper to the scanner, we can find out what changed this T. rex – a chemical injection, or a molecule ray—”
“Or we could try asking him!” said Pat brightly as the moo-tant’s eyes flicked open. “Excuse me, Mr C. rex, have you any idea what turned you into a moo-tant?”
The cow-dino considered. “Er … me seem to recall it was gas. Yellow gas. It smelled like scummy old pond.”
“I see,” said Pat. “And where did you meet Toro?”
“On Jaggonax,” the C. rex went on. “Me and my pals is miners. Us meant to meet torvosaurus ambassador there – want to buy asteroids for drilling. But then dumb buffalo and metal thing show up and gas us.”
“So that’s how Toro got his C. rexes” Arx blinked. “Who’d have thought a cow-dino would be so helpful?”
“Let’s not knock it,” murmured McMoo.
“Thank you,” Pat told the C. rex. “We’re going to try and turn you back to normal.”
“Good,” said the patient. “Buffalo said future cows might just undo what he done, but stinky plant-eating dinos stood no chance …”
Arx raised his eyebrows. “We’ll see about that!”
“Now, me knock myself out so you can begin experiments.” So saying, the C. rex conked himself on the head and started snoring.
“You heard him, Arx,” said McMoo, winking at Pat. “Let’s begin!”
Meanwhile, Iggy and Bo were visiting T-5 in his cell.
“We want to know who Toro is working with,” said Iggy, “and where they are right now.”
“I will tell you nothing,” said T-5.
“Oh, yeah?” From behind his back, Iggy pulled out something that looked like a large gun.
“I do not fear your weapon,” T-5 sneered.
“You should fear these weapons.” Bo held out her hooves. “You’re only part-robot, after all. And the bits that are still beef I’m going to … TICKLE!”
Suddenly, she pounced on him like a tickle-ninja. Her hooves dug into his ribs, nudged at his knees and jiggled in his armpits.
“Nooooo!” warbled the robo-bull, bucking and wriggling and giggling under Bo’s expert assault. “Ha-ha-ha! Tickling does not compute! Ha-ha— noooo …”
While T-5 was laughing helplessly, Iggy stepped quickly into the cell and placed his funny-looking gun against the top of the ter-moo-nator’s head. ZUMMMMMM! Instead of a ray coming out, a blur of light rose up from T-5’s head and into the device!
“Hey!” said T-5 as Bo quickly jumped clear. “What did you do?”
Iggy patted his “gun” proudly. “This is an info-sucker – extracts information from computers. I now have a copy of all the data-files in your metal head.”
“But if I hadn’t distracted you with that tickle attack, you’d have resisted,” said Bo. “Or you might have tried to make something up.”
“Now we can simply download your data into our own computers and search out all the juicy bits.” Iggy gave him a cheery wave as he and Bo left the cell. “Thanks!”
“That’s not fair!” T-5 groaned. “You tricked me.”
“Actually, I think you’ll find we TRICKLED you …” Bo blew a gum bubble. “So long, beef-brain!”
Back on the Sauropod’s flight deck, Gipsy was overseeing the dimorphodon in an extraordinary task. Holding needles in their delicate claws and beaks, the little flying reptiles sewed dark scales onto a large saggy sack. Sprite was sticking on two amber jewels that looked almost like eyes …
Teggs walked in. “How’s the disguise coming along, Gipsy?”
“I wish we had more time,” she sighed. “Have you told Admiral Rosso what we’re doing?”
“I can’t,” he said sadly. “If carnivores overheard, it would spoil our whole plan.”
“But couldn’t he send more ships to help us?” asked Gipsy.
“No way.” Teggs shook his head. “The meat-eaters would never believe that we were looking for a criminal. They’d think we were trying to invade.”
“I suppose you’re right.” Gipsy looked at the black-and-green costume and nodded. “All right, everyone. I think the captain’s ready for his new look.”
The dimorphodon flapped into the air and dropped the dark sack over Teggs’s head, neck and upper body. It was a home-made carnivore fancy-dress costume.
“Hmm, not bad,” said Gipsy. “As long as no one looks too closely …”
Suddenly, the doors swished open, and Iggy walked in with Bo. “Captain, we’ve copied T-5’s computer brain. Now we just need to search his memory files to find where Toro’s gone—” He broke off and jumped in the air with shock. “Whoa! It’s a torvosaurus!”
“Just like that one I saw in the twenty-sixth century.” Bo scowled. “Quick – clobber it!”
“No need!” Teggs poked his head through the outfit’s mouth-hole. “It’s only me!”
Gipsy gave Sprite and the dimorphodon a thumbs-up. “Nice work, guys – we fooled them!”
“Sorry to shock you,” Teggs went on. “We copied the costume from pictures of the real missing ambassador.”
“But why the dressing-up bit, Teggsy?” asked Bo. “What’s the plan?”
“You’ll soon see,” said Teggs gravely. “But if I mess things up, the Sauropod will be destroyed and we will all be killed.”
Iggy shrugged. “If you don’t try, the whole Vegetarian Sector could be doomed.”
Bo gulped. “And Earth as I know it too.”
“So there’s no choice.” Teggs crossed to Gipsy’s station and spoke to the whole ship. “Attention, all crew, this is your captain. We are about to embark on the most dangerous mission of our lives. Stand by for action – Carnivore Sector, here we come!”
Chapter Ten
BORDER TO DANGER
Within half an hour, the Sauropod had entered the fringes of the Carnivore Sector.
Teggs eyed the scanner nervously. He knew that the fierce and fearsome Raptor Border Patrol would be streaking towards them even now. Arx, Pat and Professor McMoo were still studying the C. rex. Iggy and Bo were sitting in front of computer screens, trawling through the contents of T-5’s head, desperately hunting for the vital clue they needed to track down Toro and his allies …
“Captain,” said Gipsy urgently. “We’ve been spotted. We’re receiving a message – from a raptor death ship.”
Teggs saw it on the scanner – a sharp, pointed spacecraft with a blood-red tip, flying straight for them like an evil arrow.
“With a torvosaurus in the Sauropod’s driving seat, we might just survive,” he muttered, struggling into the carnivore costume. “Gipsy, let’s hear what they have to say.”
“Attention, plant-eaters.” The cold voice hissed through the speakers. “Thisss is the Raptor Border Patrol. You have entered carnivore ssspace without permission. Prepare to be killed!”
“At least they get to the point,” said Bo.
“Put them on the screen, Gipsy,” Teggs cried, his heart thumping. “Let’s hope their
eyesight’s not perfect!”
The image of two orange raptors in green caps and uniforms appeared on the scanner.
“Don’t shoot!” Teggs said in a deep, gruff voice. “I am a carnivore like you. And I have a big butt. A very big butt indeed. Yes.”
A tense silence ensued.
One of the raptors narrowed his eyes. “Who are you?”
“I am the torvosaurus ambassador who was kidnapped …” Teggs turned to Gipsy, who was out of view of the border patrol, and hissed: “What’s my name again?”
“Cindy,” Gipsy hissed back.
“Cindy! That’s my name,” said Teggs, sweat pouring off him inside the costume. “I’m huge, whopping-butt Cindy. Some puny, skinny-bottomed plant-eaters attacked me and took me away – but I stole one of their ships and escaped.”
“Ha! Well done,” hissed the second guard.
“But what did they do to you?” asked his friend. “You look rubbish.”
“So would you if you’d lived on moss and grass for weeks,” Teggs said, even more gruffly. “I’m on my way back to Torvox so I can complain to the huge-cheeked High One and get her to attack those rubbish, tiny-bunned leaf-nibblers!”
“Good work,” said the first guard. “All right, you can passss.”
“But we’ll be checking up on your ssstory,” said the second.
Teggs gulped. “Um …”
“BUTT we’ll be checking – get it?” The raptor winked. “It’s a bottom joke! Ha! Have a nice day!”
“Oh, yeah.” Teggs tried to chuckle. “Sssee you!”
Gipsy ended the call, and the dimorphodon helped Teggs out of his dripping wet costume. “Well done, Captain!” she said proudly.
“Let’s get out of here,” said Teggs. “Iggy, Bo – any idea of what direction yet?”
“Yes!” Iggy jumped up excitedly. “According to T-5, Toro is hiding out on Muckspit Point, the only dry land on Bloodsnarl Two.”
Bo peered over his shoulder. “Apparently, your meat-eater mates just had a big conference there.”
“The League of Galactic Carnivores,” Gipsy realized. “What a perfect opportunity for Toro to buddy up with mean dinosaurs.”
“But who?” Teggs wondered. “Well, let’s go full speed ahead for Bloodsnarl Two. Luckily, we won’t pass too close to any carnivore worlds on the way …”
Iggy ran to Arx’s controls and checked some dials. “Engines stoked to maximum.” A hum of power began to build as the Sauropod picked up speed, and he smiled over at Bo. “My team have just added some cowpats to the usual dung, so we’ll see how they burn …”
Suddenly – WHOOOOOOOOOOSH! The ship shot forward like a firework. The dimorphodon flapped about in excitement and Teggs, Gipsy and Iggy clung on for dear life.
“Woo-hoo-moooooo!” cried Bo, holding onto a computer. “I guess cowpats burn very, very well!”
“At this rate we’ll make the journey in under an hour!” cried Gipsy. Teggs pressed a button on his communicator. “Arx, any news on sorting out the moo-tants?”
“We’re still trying to return them to normal,” Arx reported. “Nothing’s worked so far, and I’m afraid that sudden jolt made us spill our latest chemical mix …”
“All over me,” came a groan from Pat.
“Whoops! Sorry,” said Teggs. “Listen, guys, we think Toro is on the planet Bloodsnarl Two. But I don’t know how long we have before carnivores spot us.”
“Toro must’ve made the journey to and from the Vegmeat Zone in his flying saucer,” said McMoo. “Perhaps a small group could scout around in our saucer while the Sauropod hides somewhere close by – ready to move in when we give the signal?”
“That’s a great idea,” said Teggs. “I’ll have your saucer brought into the shuttle bay. Gipsy, you and I will go.”
“I must come too,” McMoo’s voice insisted. “Toro is the C.I.A.’s responsibility. Pat can stay and help Arx with his cow-dino experiments—”
“Once I’ve had a shower,” Pat chipped in.
“And I’ll go as well to look after the prof,” said Bo firmly.
“All right,” said Teggs. “Iggy, I’m leaving you in charge of the Sauropod. Look after her, old friend – and the crew.”
Iggy saluted. “I understand, Captain. Just … watch yourselves, OK?”
“Now, before things get too soppy up here, let’s go!” Bo blew Iggy a kiss and threw an arm around Gipsy’s tail. “Come on, sister. It’s time for action!”
Pat hurried through the Sauropod’s enormous corridors, ready to shower away the yukky chemicals that had spilled all over him. He felt troubled. The C. rex had said that Arx and his kind couldn’t undo the moo-tant effect, and that only future cows might stand a chance. Perhaps that was why the usually brilliant professor (from the present day) and the clearly super-clever triceratops had failed to turn the moo-tant back to normal.
As he entered the bathroom, Pat was hit by a horrid smell. Then he saw the C.I.A. spacesuits hanging up to dry. “That’s funny – we washed them. They shouldn’t still be smelly …”
The stink was coming from inside McMoo’s spacesuit. Pat reached inside …
… and gasped as he pulled out a bunch of soggy wet herbal tea bags from the twenty-sixth century!
Suddenly, Pat remembered the C. rex’s description of the gas responsible for its mootation – “It smelled like scummy old pond.”
And then he remembered Bo holding her nose when the professor was given his tea outside the Palace of Great Moos. “That stuff stinks like a dredged pond!” she’d said.
“Maybe that amazing Amazon herb in the tea bags is the missing ingredient? The ox said it had special medicinal properties … and only a future cow would know about it!” Pat felt excitement flutter in his tum. “Good job Yak gave the professor a whole box of tea bags we can experiment with …” He groaned. “Oh, no. They’re on board … the C.I.A. saucer!”
Pat raced back to the flight deck as fast as his hooves would carry him. Finally, limbs and lungs aching, he burst through the lift doors. “Iggy!” he gasped. “We must … stop the saucer … from leaving …”
“Eh?” Iggy frowned. “I’m afraid it’s too late, son. Your pals have just left with Captain Teggs and Gipsy.”
He pointed to the scanner screen. Pat saw the saucer already whizzing away into the starry blackness.
Chapter Eleven
UNDERGROUND FACE-OFF!
“What’s going on, Pat?” asked Iggy, leading the young bullock to Gipsy’s chair so he could catch his breath.
“We must … call them … back,” Pat panted.
“Sorry, no chance. The carnivores might overhear our message.” Iggy frowned. “What’s so important?”
“Tea!” Pat wailed, holding up the soggy, stinky bag. “I have to talk to Arx … I might be wrong and this might be nothing … or it might just prove to be the most important tea bag in history!”
In the super-speedy saucer, it took just minutes to reach Bloodsnarl Two. McMoo, Teggs, Gipsy and Bo stared out at its crimson oceans as they sped over the horizon.
“Look!” McMoo pointed to a distant jagged island. “That must be Muckspit Point …”
“And look what’s parked outside,” said Teggs. “The F.B.I. saucer – and a whopping great space transporter!”
“I’ve never seen one that big before,” said Gipsy, her head-crest glowing blue. “If only Iggy were here, he’d recognize the design.”
“Well, it’s a carnivore ship, for certain,” said Teggs. When Bo and McMoo looked puzzled, he pointed. “You can tell by the crimson skull painted on the side.”
“Nice,” said Bo. “Well, whoever they are, the sooner we biff them up, the better.”
“We’d better head back to the Sauropod and organize a full-on assault force,” Teggs agreed. “This could get messy.”
But suddenly the saucer came to a jolting halt in mid-air.
“It very nearly did get messy,” McMoo gasped. “If it wasn’t for the gravity stra
ps, we’d be splatted all over the walls!”
Gipsy stared helplessly at the controls. “Have we hit something?”
“No.” Teggs looked at the yellow light that had engulfed the window. “We’ve been caught by a magnetic ray – and it’s dragging us down to Muckspit Point!”
“Pants!” cried Bo. “We’ve been spotted.”
“I know we’re not supposed to contact the Sauropod,” said Gipsy, “but this is an emergency …”
“It’s no good.” McMoo could see the control dials waving and flicking about. “The magnetic field is blocking our communications.”
The saucer was forced down with a crunch and the celestial sat-nav spoke up calmly: “You have been forced down onto a remote planet.” A heavy metallic thumping started up. “And now unidentified life-forms with big teeth are breaking down the door so they can come in and get you.”
“Yeah – not actually helping much, thanks,” the professor told it.
As the gravity straps were released, Teggs looked at the others. “I think we’d better open the doors. If we don’t, the saucer will be smashed and we’ll never be able to use it to escape.”
“Optimistic and practical, Captain. You make sense.” McMoo took a deep breath and pressed the door button. “Brace yourselves, everyone … here comes company!”
The outer doors slid open, and six C. rexes stomped inside, horns gleaming, udders wobbling. McMoo and Gipsy tried to fight them off, and Teggs and Bo even landed a couple of blows – but it was no good. Their attackers were too massive, leaving little room to move. Grunting, growling and mooing, the C. rexes grabbed the saucer’s occupants and hauled them outside.
Helpless in the scaly grip of his captor, McMoo caught a glimpse of the vast scarlet sea splashing hard against the rocks. Then, together with Teggs, Bo and Gipsy, he was forced inside a tunnel. It wound down and around into darkness …
Finally, the cows and astrosaurs were shoved into a vast arena, surrounded by row upon row of stone thrones and benches. The C. rexes stood guard behind them.
Gipsy looked around in awe. “So this is where the League of Galactic Carnivores hold their yearly meetings.”