‘The one that would require someone else to operate it while you go through?’
‘You could do it,’ said Stanley hopefully.
‘Ha, not a chance. You keep forgetting I’m not on your side here.’
Stanley’s next idea involved getting out through the connecting tubes that the picaroons used to board other ships.
‘That kind of relies on there being a ship on the other end of it, don’t it?’ said Hal. ‘And even if we did dock with another ship, who’s to say that the captain wouldn’t blow it out of the sky? He normally does.’
Stanley and Hal delivered food to the captain three times a day, the final time being the evening meal when Hal left Stanley with him. By the end of his second day, Stanley was beginning to think Hal was right, there was no way of escaping the ship. Even if he had found a way off, the only time that he wasn’t under constant surveillance was when he went to the toilet in a tiny room that smelt so bad that he had to hold his breath to avoid being sick.
During these moments Spore, who seemed quite at home with the stench, would climb out of Stanley’s pocket to avoid any danger of falling into the cesspit of a toilet.
‘I do not like it here with those beaky featherheads,’ said Spore.
‘I know, me neither, but I don’t know how to escape,’ said Stanley.
‘You said this word escape before. What does it mean?’
‘It means to get out of this place.’
‘I see. It is the same word that the girl with the shiny eyes used when she showed you the little rooms.’
‘You mean Jupp? Of course, the escape pods. This ship must have escape pods too.’
But when he put the question to Hal, he said, ‘Escape pods on the Black Horizon? I don’t think so. This ship goes down, we all go down with it.’
The next morning Stanley sat in the kitchen watching Hal wrestle a spoon from the jaws of a rottleblood, a battle which he eventually won by sending the rottleblood flying into the omelette he was making.
The news channel was on the smeary TV in the corner of the room. Mostly it had been boring reports about an economic crisis affecting the universe and record highs in unemployment, but Stanley was distracted from the chaos of Hal’s cooking by hearing his own name.
‘This morning Jax Kevolo, commander of the Armorian Interplanetary Police, confirmed rumours that Stanley Bound has jumped bail.’
Commander Kevolo appeared on the screen. He was standing behind a podium with journobots bobbing up and down in front of him. ‘Stanley Bound has indeed broken the conditions of his bail, but rest assured, I have personally ensured that he will be rearrested soon, when he will stand trial for his terrible crime.’
‘What about the rumours of you standing as president?’ asked a journobot.
‘Ah well . . .’ Commander Kevolo smiled. ‘I’m glad you asked that question. Today I can confirm that the time has come for me to give in to the numerous requests to stand for the presidency. But it is with humility and selfless intentions that I do this. Armoria needs a leader and too many of my well-respected colleagues have insisted that I stand for me to ignore these calls to action.’
There was a bustle of excited noise from the journobots, but Commander Kevolo selected the same one again to ask the next question.
‘What kind of president will you be if you are elected?’
‘Another excellent question.’ He leaned forward on the podium. ‘As you know, I was a great friend and admirer of the late President Vorlugenar. However, like many, I did occasionally find his diplomacy a little soft around the edges. Having spent some years in service of Armoria and, indeed, the universe, and having fought a constant battle against the Marauding Picaroons, I know that the strong arm of the law is required to defeat these criminals who think they are above the law. It is this tougher approach that I will bring to the presidency if I am elected.’
‘And would you say that the marauding problem is now under control?’ It was the same journobot again who asked the question.
‘Yes, indeed. I’m pleased to say that there are fewer picaroon ships in the universe now than there were when I took the job as commander.’
Hal, who was watching now too, laughed and said, ‘That’s because we keep blasting them to bits.’
‘And what of those who remain?’ asked the same journobot.
Commander Kevolo clenched his fist. ‘Those that remain will be dealt with swiftly and decisively by my officers.’
‘Even the Black Horizon?’ It was a different journobot who blurted out this question and Commander Kevolo glared angrily at it before answering. ‘The Black Horizon is just a ship like any other, and Captain Flaid’s days are numbered. Thank you. The press conference is now over.’
‘He’s been saying that for years, but we haven’t seen even a hint of bother for ages.’ Hal switched off the TV. ‘Come on, let’s take the captain his lunch.’
Normally the bridge of the Black Horizon was a fairly relaxed place. At least, relaxed compared to the rest of the ship. Under the watchful eye of Captain Flaid, sitting in his swivel chair, the crew members fought less amongst themselves than they did elsewhere. But when Stanley and Hal entered with the captain’s food, there was a distinct tension in the air. Captain Flaid was on his feet, shouting at the crew.
‘Will one of you mucky scabs tell me what ship I’m looking at?’ he yelled.
On the large screen, a menacing-looking spaceship, armed to the hilt, loomed ominously.
‘It looks like another marauding ship, Captain,’ said a crew member with dirty white feathers and a brown beak.
‘I can see that, you no-good featherhead.’ Captain Flaid swung his agoniser at the crew member, who ducked just quickly enough to avoid serious damage. ‘But what ship is it? Where’s my first mate? Where’s Mr Conur?’
‘I’m right here, Flaid.’
Everyone on the bridge looked up to see Conur’s ugly red face filling the large screen.
Stanley wondered whether it was a look of annoyance or admiration that crossed Captain Flaid’s face before he spoke next. ‘Explain yourself, Mr Conur.’
‘Captain Conur, if you please. This here is my ship, the Fragmented Storm, see.’ Behind him, Stanley could make out more picaroons sitting on a bridge that looked very similar to that of the Black Horizon.
‘And there was me thinking that you had your beady greedy eyes on my ship,’ said Captain Flaid.
‘Oh, I do that. I do indeed. I’ll be taking your crew off you in good time and your booty and, of course, your most valuable possession, the boy Stanley Bound.’
‘Blast them to smithereens!’ shouted Captain Flaid, with a wave of his hand.
‘Ah, now that might be a problem, seeing as how I disabled your weapons before teleporting aboard,’ said Conur.
‘It’s true, Captain,’ said a crew member looking at the dials on the display.
Suddenly the Black Horizon shook violently and Stanley fell over, dropping the broth, which spilt out across the floor. Hal grabbed Stanley and hauled him to his feet, keeping a firm hand on his elbow.
Conur’s throaty laugh reverberated around the bridge. Captain Flaid had a look of steely determination in his dark eyes.
‘As you can see, the weapons on the Fragmented Storm are working just fine,’ cackled Conur. ‘And don’t even think about sending that little stepper aboard to do your dirty work for you, because I’m ready for him too.’
‘You’re a wretched villain, Conur.’
‘Just like yourself, Flaid. Half your crew are primed and ready to follow me. Take a look around you, Flaid. How much loyalty do you think you have left?’
Stanley noticed that a number of crew members had stepped away from their desks and were clutching their agonisers and looking at Flaid, although it was unclear which were looking to fight and which were ready to defend him.
‘Now send the boy over and we’ll negotiate your surrender.’
‘And how exactly am I supposed to send the boy over when
you’ve already used the teleport?’
‘We’ll be docking with you now. Send him through the connecting tube. Once he’s safely here, we can talk. And remember, I’ve got spies all over your ship.’ Conur laughed again. ‘The reign of the Black Horizon is over, Flaid. There’s a new captain now.’
‘You seem to have thought of everything, Mr Conur. I have no choice but to comply with your wishes. I’ll send the boy down to the docking bay now.’
.
37
‘It’s nice to be so popular’
The screen that had shown Conur’s face went blank and Captain Flaid spun around and grabbed the microphone he used to address the whole ship.
‘Listen up, you filthy feathered fiends, because this is your captain speaking, and I don’t cares if you are planning to betray me or not. The facts is like this. We are about to engage in battle and you can live or die fighting with or against me. It’s up to you to decide which of these is less likely to get you killed, but it seems to me that Conur won’t have half as many pics on board that ship as he’s pretending so we got every chance of beating them if you sticks with me. So I want every last one of you down at the docking bay ready to fight, and should you choose to fight against me and pick the weaker side, so be it. I’ll be ready to tear the feathers from your faces.’
Captain Flaid put the microphone down and turned to the crew on the bridge.
‘That goes for all of you lot too, you wretched rogues,’ he added. ‘Get yourselves down to the docking bay. I’ll join you in a minute. Today we’ll dine on the bones of victory, washed down with the black blood of traitors.’
The crew cheered at this and waved their agonisers in the air as they left the bridge.
‘But, Captain,’ said Hal, ‘how can we fight against an armed ship?’
Captain Flaid turned to face him.
‘You’re a good lad, Hal, but you’ve got a lot to learn. Conur’s not stupid. He won’t want to risk losing the most valuable thing on this ship.’ Captain Flaid lowered his large head to Stanley’s level. ‘That’ll be you, Stanley Bound.’
‘It’s nice to be so popular,’ said Stanley.
Captain Flaid laughed, his beak clacking noisily, and Stanley found himself wondering whether he had detected a note of fear in the captain’s mirth.
‘Hal, my boy, I’m going to be busy reminding those double-crossing pics down there where their loyalties lie, so I need your help. You’re the only one I trust – you knows that, don’t you?’
‘Yes, Captain,’ said Hal.
‘Good. First I needs you to deliver the boy to my cabin. Put him in the crushion in the corner.’ He handed him the electronic key from his belt. ‘Then I needs you to get this ship’s weapons working again, and as soon as you do, blast that Fragmented Storm into fragments.’
‘What if you’re on board the ship by then?’
‘Don’t you worry about me, Hal. You just do as you’re told. I can’t trust anyone but you. I needs to keep the rest of this crew where I can see them. If you’re lucky enough to kill me, then the Black Horizon is yours.’
‘Yes, Captain.’
‘Good lad. Now off with the both of you. I’ve an army to lead and a battle to win.’
With Hal close behind, Stanley ran through the ship to the cabin. The corridors were even more chaotic and dangerous than usual, with heavily armed picaroons rushing down to the docking bay. Some lurched at Stanley as they saw him approach, but Hal was quick to bat them off. Most were busily engrossed in discussions about whether they should remain loyal to Captain Flaid or switch sides to fight with Conur.
When Hal and Stanley arrived at the door at the far end of the crew’s quarters, Hal opened it and pushed Stanley inside. ‘Where’s this crushion then?’ he asked.
‘He means this,’ said Stanley, sitting down. ‘What will you do if the rest of the crew do turn against him?’
‘Those renegades will follow whoever they think is most likely to keep them alive and make them rich. Captain Flaid has fought off mutinies before. This is no different.’
‘I don’t suppose you’re going to leave me the key, are you?’ asked Stanley.
Hal laughed. ‘You’ve got a sense of humour, I’ll give you that. I’ll see you around, Stanley Bound.’
.
38
‘Destination Armoria’
Alone in Captain Flaid’s cabin, Stanley stood up, grateful that Hal didn’t know what the crushion looked like. He lifted Spore out of his pocket and placed him on Captain Flaid’s desk.
‘Why Hal not help Stanley? I was thinking he not like the beak people,’ said Spore.
‘Yeah, well, what difference does it make what he’s like?’ asked Stanley, sitting in Flaid’s chair. ‘He still follows Flaid’s orders, so he’s just as bad as the rest.’
‘So we not able to escape after all?’
‘I don’t think so. Flaid’s cabin is the most secure room in the ship. That’s why they put me here.’
‘I think Captain beak person might need escape too.’
Spore’s words slowly sunk in. ‘Flaid might need to escape . . .’ said Stanley. ‘Of course.’
‘Of course what?’
‘Flaid designed this ship, and I bet he gave himself a way to escape. I reckon there’s an escape pod in this room that only he knows about.’
Stanley leaped up and ran to a wall. He began to check it with the palms of his hands.
‘What you doing?’ asked Spore.
‘I’m looking for a door like the one for the escape pods on the Gusto.’
‘I help.’ Spore jumped off the desk, flying up high before turning and soaring back down, like an Olympic diver. His head hit the floor and sent him springing back into the air. He somersaulted and landed next to Stanley with a forward roll.
Stanley pushed away piles of stolen goods, expensive-looking jewellery and strange gadgets in order to get to the wall, while Spore bounced up and whacked his head against it.
DINK, went his head on the wall.
‘Mind you don’t hurt yourself,’ said Stanley.
DINK. ‘No, I OK, Stanley.’
‘Doesn’t that give you a headache?’
DINK.
‘Have it your own way, but don’t say I didn’t warn you.’
DONK.
Stanley stopped what he was doing and went to where Spore had last whacked his head. He tapped along the wall. DINK . . . DINK . . . DONK. It was a different noise. Stanley pushed away the surrounding bits and pieces and found a door handle. He turned it.
‘You’ve found it,’ he said.
Behind the door was a small padded room with a control panel and a window overlooking the endless emptiness of space.
‘Welcome to the Series 64,000 escape vessel. Please take your seat and close the door to initiate disconnection from craft,’ said a friendly-sounding female voice.
Spore jumped on to Stanley’s shoulder. ‘So we escape now?’
‘Yes, come on,’ said Stanley.
They climbed inside and Stanley sat down. For Captain Flaid it would have been pretty cramped, but for him and Spore there was plenty of room.
‘Please close door to initiate disconnection from main vessel.’ As the voice spoke one of the buttons on the control panel lit up.
‘Are you ready for this?’ said Stanley.
‘Spore ready.’
Stanley pressed the button. The door behind them slid shut. There was a whirring noise followed by a clunk and a jolt.
‘Disconnection successful. Scanning for the nearest habitable planet,’ said the voice.
As the pod drifted into space, it rotated so that Stanley could see the Black Horizon. He was pleased to be leaving the terrifying ship. No matter where he went next, he thought, it couldn’t be as bad as that. The pod continued to spin, causing the ship to disappear from sight. When it next appeared they were far enough away to see the other ship. The Fragmented Storm looked very similar to Flaid’s ship, but Stanley cou
ld tell that the first bolt of energy came from one of the cannons on the Black Horizon. In the silence of space the blast made no noise, but it was clear that it had made impact. The Fragmented Storm sent a blast back.
‘Hal must have got the weapons working,’ said Stanley.
Once again the pod turned, taking the ships out of vision.
‘Turn round. I can’t see,’ said Stanley.
‘Thrusters will fire when destination has been located,’ replied the computer calmly.
In its own time the pod turned full circle to show that the two ships had now separated with the connecting tube floating free. Both were now shooting at each other continually, but the amount of damage they had inflicted on each other made it no longer possible to identify which was which. Then suddenly and silently a blast from one ship split the other in half. Two more hits and the broken ship was nothing but debris floating in space.
‘Which ship was destroyed?’ asked Spore.
‘I don’t know, said Stanley.’
‘Destination located. Firing thrusters,’ said the computer.
‘What’s the destination?’
‘Destination Armoria.’
.
39
‘Twenty seconds to self-destruct’
Entering the atmosphere of an alien planet for the first time had been an unforgettable experience, but Stanley’s second time was equally exciting. This time he was in an escape pod made of such thin material that as it entered the atmosphere he could feel its sides heat up. As it hit the high-altitude winds it was thrown about like a dinghy in a storm. Stanley and Spore laughed as they bounced off the soft walls, but Stanley was pleased when it stopped.
‘Please state required destination on Armoria,’ said the computer.
‘I don’t know,’ said Stanley.
‘We go see Professor big-head?’ asked Spore.
‘Name not recognised,’ said the computer.
‘Professor NomVeber. He lives here. Good idea, Spore,’ said Stanley.
‘Destination selected: the residence of Professor NomVeber.’
Looking down at the surface of the planet, there was so much movement Stanley didn’t immediately understand what he was looking at. It took him a minute to understand that the slowest-moving objects were the huge rectangular cloud ships. Above and below the cloud ships were countless rows of smaller moving objects. As he got closer he could see that these were various kinds of vehicles, some the size of cars, others more like articulated lorries and buses, with flying motorbikes whizzing in between.
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