Akiko and the Great Wall of Trudd

by Mark Crilley

  GRRUMMMMMMMMMMMMMMM!

  Suddenly there was this horrible rumbling sound in the sky above us. At first I thought it was thunder, but then I realized that the noise was getting steadily louder and more mechanical sounding.

  “I’d know that noise anywhere,” Spuckler said. “It’s a Gotgazzer!”

  “A Gotgazzer!” Mr. Beeba repeated, searching the skies frantically.

  “What’s a Gotgazzer?” I asked.

  “It’s a kind of spaceship. . . ,” Spuckler began.

  Whatever he said after that was drowned out by the noise, which had now become so loud that Spuckler, Mr. Beeba, and I had to clamp our hands firmly over our ears. Gax was quivering, and Poog had floated down until he was nearly touching the ground.

  A large black shape descended slowly from the sky in front of us. Bolts of flame shot out beneath it, allowing the ship to settle gently onto the ground like an enormous dragonfly. The snow whirled madly in all directions, preventing me from getting a good view of the thing. Then the rumbling abruptly stopped, leaving a weird humming sound in my ears.

  The clouds of snow gradually disappeared into the air, and I could see the spaceship clearly for the first time. It was about thirty feet wide and curved like a boomerang, with the steely gray surface of an armored submarine. There were several different kinds of guns mounted on the wings, and a big round window in front that looked like it could have been taken from one of those gigantic old warplanes you always see in the movies. The entire surface had a dull shimmer, as if it had been carefully polished for years and years.

  Suddenly a horrifying thought dawned on me: Throck! This was Throck’s spaceship, and he was coming out to confront us face to face.

  My knees started shaking and the hairs on my neck stood up like the quills of a porcupine. My heart began to pound furiously, and I found myself breathing in short, frightened gasps. I’d never been so scared in all my life.

  “Come on, Throck,” Spuckler whispered between clenched teeth. “Get out here and face us like a man.”

  Gax began to shudder uncontrollably, and Mr. Beeba inched his way behind me, poking his head out like a kid hiding behind a tree. Poog, however, rose high into the air and stayed right where he was, floating calmly and proudly as if he wasn’t the least bit scared.

  KA-CHAK!

  There was a loud clicking sound as a door on top of the spaceship was unlatched.

  FFSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSH!

  It was that sound! The horrible sound of Throck’s suit, pumping gas out into the air like an old steam engine.

  Slowly, menacingly, Throck’s head rose from the portal, his features lit from below with a greenish white light, allowing me to see his face clearly for the first time. His white hair stuck up from his head like the bristles of a scrub brush, cropped short on top, shaved to the scalp on the sides. His eyes were narrow and widely spaced, with tiny pale pupils, like the eyes of a snake. His cheeks were covered with tiny scars that looked like the stitching on a baseball. His nose and mouth were hidden by the same metallic cup we’d seen him wearing before. I guess he needed it to breathe, like a scuba diver on the depths of the ocean floor.

  He continued climbing out of the ship until he was standing on one of the wings. Then he leaped off and landed on the ground with a muffled thump, momentarily losing his balance, then regaining it with a strange, mechanical snapping motion. His arms and legs were a mass of tubes and canisters, his chest crisscrossed with dozens of creepy wires and pieces of armor. He stood there glaring at us for a minute or two, the hissing sound of his uniform piercing the air every few seconds.

  “How many warnings will it take,” his husky voice growled, “before you do as you are told?”

  Throck’s cheeks rippled like the gills of a bloated fish as he waited for an answer.

  “We don’t need warnin’s from the likes of you, pal,” Spuckler said, stepping forward without hesitation. “We’re on our way to Alia Rellapor’s castle, and there ain’t nothin’ you can do t’ stop us.”

  “My, my, little man,” Throck said with a nasty chuckle, “you’re a brave one, aren’t you?” He leaned over to look Spuckler directly in the eyes. I felt a chill shoot straight down my spine.

  “I usually find bravery a very admirable characteristic,” Throck continued, his raspy voice just barely held above a whisper, “but your little show of bravado strikes me as rather sad. Have you any idea of the danger you’re in?”

  “Look, Throck—” Spuckler began.

  “Well, well!” Throck interrupted, his eyes open wide in surprise. “How is it that you know my name? Not that it is of any importance to me . . .”

  “We know all about you, Throck,” Spuckler lied. “Now I suggest you step out of our way before I—”

  “Before you what?” Throck interrupted again, this time barking the words like an angry dog. His face was now so close to Spuckler’s that they were nearly touching.

  Gax gave out a little high-pitched whine, followed by a series of agitated clicks.

  “Throck,” Spuckler said in his most patient voice, “I’m gonna give you till the count of three to get outta here an’ leave us alone.”

  There was nothing but silence.

  “One . . .”

  HISSSSSSSSSSSS!

  A cloud of steam rose eerily from behind Throck’s head.

  “Two . . .”

  “Time’s up!” Throck growled, clamping his hands around Spuckler’s waist. In one swift, graceful movement, he lifted Spuckler off the ground and threw him into the snow like a rag doll. Spuckler rolled when he hit the ground and scrambled to get back on his feet as quickly as he could.

  Throck darted over to him with three quick strides of his enormous legs. Spuckler tried to throw a punch but ended up missing by a matter of inches. Throck snapped his hands around Spuckler’s chest and tossed him at least twenty feet in the air. This time when Spuckler hit the ground he stayed right where he was, half buried in the snow.

  I couldn’t take it anymore. I ran over to where Spuckler lay and threw my arms around him. I pulled him up as best I could so that his head rested in my lap. Spuckler looked up at me for a moment, his eyes half open, half closed. He looked frighteningly weak.

  “Leave him alone!” I shouted at Throck as loudly as I could. I felt a single hot tear run down my cheek. My face was burning up and my heart was pounding like crazy, but not so much out of fear, more just because I was so . . . I don’t know, awake.

  Throck stood where he was and scowled at me.

  “You have no one to blame but yourselves,” he sneered. “You saw the signs. You chose to ignore them.”

  Just then Poog began to float out toward me and Spuckler. He stayed with us for a moment, then turned and floated right up to Throck, finally coming to a stop about three feet in front of his face.

  Poog was frowning. I’d never seen him look like that before. It was as if he were turning into an entirely different kind of Poog. He looked angry. Really angry.

  It got very, very quiet. Even Throck’s suit seemed to hiss less loudly.

  The two of them stayed right where they were, Poog staring at Throck, Throck staring at Poog. The tension between them was so strong you could almost hear it. And the weird thing was . . .

  . . . Throck was the one who looked scared.

  His eyes were open wide, his pale pupils quivering slightly. He seemed to require all his strength just to remain standing.

  I’m not exactly sure, but I think I heard Throck say something to Poog. I don’t know, it could have been just a cough, or the sound of his clearing his throat. But I think he did say something. If he did, then Poog simply chose to ignore him, because Poog stayed quiet the whole time, with a very cold, very determined look on his face. Nobody moved an inch.

  Suddenly Throck turned away from Poog and walked back toward his ship. Mr. Beeba, who had watched the confrontation between Poog and Throck with ever-increasing interest, looked as if his jaw would hit the ground.


  Throck climbed back up to the portal he’d come from just minutes before. He then turned to face us all one last time.

  “Think long and hard about what you’re getting yourselves into,” he said slowly and clearly, as if he were trying to carve the words into our brains, “because once you’ve reached Alia Rellapor’s castle . . .”

  He paused for what seemed like a full minute.

  “. . . there will be no turning back.”

  Throck’s spaceship rocketed up into the night with a blinding flash of light. I’ve never been so happy to see someone go.

  We all huddled around Spuckler, worried that he’d suffered some kind of deadly injury. Gax seemed especially concerned; he was making all sorts of rattling and beeping sounds, as if he was very, very nervous. Soon, though, Spuckler was sitting up and talking again, acting as if nothing had happened.

  “I jus’ got the wind knocked outta me, tha’s all,” he said, sounding slightly embarrassed about how quickly Throck had defeated him. “Next time I’ll give ol’ Throck a taste of his own medicine!”

  Mr. Beeba and I looked at each other and smiled.

  When Spuckler had regained a bit of his energy, Mr. Beeba and I helped him to his feet. We walked him around in circles a couple of times, and before long he seemed to be back to normal.

  Poog was off by himself, still staring into the sky where Throck’s ship had disappeared. His face was tightened up into a look of great concentration, as if he was very deep in thought. I couldn’t help wondering what he was thinking about, and I was dying to know what Throck had said to him. My mind was full of questions, but I decided to save them for later. We had other things to worry about.

  The snow had started to let up a bit, but we were still stuck without a place to sleep. The sky was now pitch-black, and it looked as if we’d have no choice but to keep walking straight through the night. It was not a very pleasant idea.

  “Wait a minute!” Mr. Beeba said, snapping his fingers. “The bridge!”

  “What about it?” Spuckler asked.

  “It’ll be the perfect shelter,” Mr. Beeba said, scampering back through the snow to where we had just come from.

  “Come on, ’Kiko,” Spuckler said, smiling. “I think I know what Beebs has in mind.”

  Spuckler, Gax, Poog, and I all followed Mr. Beeba down the snow-covered seashore alongside the bridge. A large section of beach was partially enclosed by some stone pillars that held up the bridge. Mr. Beeba led us underneath the bridge and into a little cavelike space that was almost completely cut off from the snow. It was still pretty cold, but at least we had some kind of roof over our heads. We all sat down and tried to get used to the idea of spending the night in such a dark, cold place.

  “A li’l fire’ll make this place a lot more homey,” Spuckler said, pushing a button on Gax’s body. Out came Gax’s torch, with its bright, steady flame. Suddenly the frozen beach and the underside of the bridge were bathed in a warm yellow light. Spuckler was right. Just a simple thing like a bit of light made a pretty big difference.

  That was just the beginning, though.

  We all started gathering pieces of driftwood that had collected under the bridge. We put them all side by side and watched as Gax dried them with his torch. Some of them were pretty wet from all the ice and snow, and you could see steam rising into the air as Gax went to work on them. It took a while, but eventually Gax was able to make each piece of wood as dry as a bone.

  Spuckler took the pieces of wood and carefully arranged them into a teepee shape. Then Gax stuck his torch down at the bottom and set the whole thing aflame. Soon we were delighted to find ourselves huddled around a bright, crackling fire, warming our hands and feet and just generally making ourselves as comfortable as we could possibly be.

  Then Spuckler pulled out the brown paper bag Yabby had given to us when we left his restaurant.

  “Anyone hungry?” he asked.

  We stuffed ourselves with the sandwiches Yabby had packed for us. They were absolutely delicious, filled with all kinds of colorful vegetables and sweet slices of meat. There were also several purple pieces of fruit, and a whole bag full of Moolo Rings. We ate and ate and ate, devouring it all happily and very noisily.

  After dinner we threw a few more pieces of wood on the fire so that Spuckler and Mr. Beeba could entertain us with hand shadows on the underside of the bridge. It was pretty amazing, all the different kinds of shapes they were able to make!

  “Now, this, Akiko,” Mr. Beeba explained, “is a frimbo bird. I haven’t quite got the wingspan right, but you get the general idea. . . .”

  “And this is a flyin’ saber-toothed mungasaurus,” Spuckler growled, “comin’ in to eat the frimbo bird!”

  “Really, Spuckler!” Mr. Beeba chuckled. “Control yourself!”

  They went on and on like that for more than half an hour. I even joined in here and there, making the shape of a dog’s head and a couple of other tricks I learned from my uncle Koji back in Middleton.

  After Spuckler and Mr. Beeba’s little show was over, we all sat back and listened while Gax told a story about a giant spaceship he’d once been trapped on, and how he’d led a bunch of robots in a daring escape. He was really good at bringing the story to life, especially because he could make all sorts of cool sound effects as he went along. It was definitely the best robot story I’d ever heard. (Actually, it was the only robot story I’d ever heard, but you know what I mean.)

  Finally Poog sang us a little song. It was a soothing, quiet song that seemed to wash over us like water, with beautiful airy sounds like flutes and strange, exotic harmonies that I could hear only if I tilted my head a certain way. Even with all the snow around, there was something very warm and almost tropical about the music.

  Spuckler stoked the fire with plenty of wood so that it would keep us warm all night long. Gax said he’d add more wood later if the flames started to die down.

  I suddenly found myself thinking about Throck, and the way Poog had stared at him, and the way he’d finally backed down and left us.

  “Mr. Beeba,” I whispered as I watched the firelight flicker on the underside of the bridge, “who do you think Throck is? Why is he trying to stop us from going to Alia Rellapor’s castle?”

  “Throck is as much of a mystery to me as he is to you, Akiko,” said Mr. Beeba. “My guess is that he works for Alia Rellapor. He’s probably been hired by her to prevent us from rescuing the Prince.”

  I sat and thought that one over for a minute. If this Throck guy was just an assistant, I wondered how scary Alia would turn out to be. Still, it was reassuring to know we had Poog around to protect us. It was almost like having a guardian angel at our side. If not for Poog, who knows what Throck might have done to us?

  “You saw how Poog and Throck looked at each other, didn’t you, Mr. Beeba?” I asked. “What do you think was going on there?”

  “I’m not entirely sure, Akiko,” he replied, “but I suspect that Poog and Throck have met before. Maybe once, maybe many times.”

  “Did you see the look on Throck’s face?” I asked. “He looked really, really scared.”

  “He most certainly did,” Mr. Beeba answered, “and I can’t say I blame him. Poog has powers far beyond the likes of you and me. There’s no telling what he’s capable of doing in our defense.”

  I turned and looked at Poog. He was floating near the fire, and his eyes reflected the flames as clearly as pools of water. He was still humming to himself, and he wore an expression of deep, deep concentration. I wish I could have known what he was thinking, if only for a moment.

  We all curled up in the warm sand near the edge of the fire and got ready to go to sleep. I found myself looking back on everything we’d done in the past two days: our long walk through the grasslands, our perilous climb to the top of the Great Wall of Trudd, our delicious lunch at Yabby’s restaurant . . . Some of it already felt as if it had happened a very long time ago.

  “Sleep tight, everybody,” Sp
uckler said as he folded his arms and rested his head on his chest. “Tomorrow we’re goin’ to Alia Rellapor’s castle!”

  What a thought to try to sleep on!

  Our journey was nearly at an end. Would we really make it to Alia’s castle the next day? I wondered what the place would look like. I wondered what Alia would look like. And I wondered most of all if we’d really succeed in our mission to rescue Prince Froptoppit. I thought all the way back to when I had first come to the planet Smoo, and how King Froptoppit had put me in charge of rescuing his son. In my mind, I suddenly had a very clear image of the King with his lanky arms, oversized ears, and enormous white mustache.

  “I need you to be in charge of this mission,” he’d said to me that night. “And what’s more, you need you to be in charge of this mission.”

  The fire crackled and popped, and I rolled over to warm the other side of my body. My head was filled with all kinds of questions. Normally I’d never have been able to fall asleep with so many things left to think about. But I was very tired, and my eyelids felt very, very heavy, and I knew that once I closed my eyes I’d be asleep in a matter of seconds. I took one last look at the firelight flickering across the beach as my eyelids slowly dropped over my eyes.

  It was time to rest. We had a very big day ahead of us.

  SEE WHERE IT ALL BEGAN:

  Join Akiko and her crew on the Planet Smoo!

  When fourth-grader Akiko comes home from school one day, she finds an envelope waiting for her. It has no stamp or return address and contains a very strange message. . . .