Black Hole Battle

by Lucy Courtenay

  They turned left. Listening to Rocky’s flippers was generally unwise.

  A row of twelve silvery robots glided around the corner in front of them, moving in a line across the carpet.

  “Ninja PENGUIN!” Fuzz squealed, and aimed his stun gun.

  “Stop, Fuzz!” said Splash. “Stun guns don’t work on robots.”

  “Greetings,” Captain Krill said quickly, in case the robots were unfriendly. “We come in peace.”

  “Sorry about the stun gun thing,” Rocky added. “That was a mistake.”

  As the robots drew nearer, the Captain relaxed. “There’s nothing to worry about, crew. They’re just cleaner robots,” he said.

  “Cleaner than what?” Rocky stared at the spotless carpet behind the robots, and their long, silvery arms with their nozzle attachments. The word HOOVERTRON was printed on the robots’ bellies. “Oh, you mean vacuum cleaner robots! We should steal one for the Tunafish.”

  “What have I told you about stealing, Rocky?” said Captain Krill.

  “Don’t get caught?” Rocky replied.

  Splash peered at the flashing circuit boards on the Hoovertrons. “They’re running on some kind of remote-controlled program,” he said.

  “Can we ask them what happened?” said Captain Krill. Splash shook his head as the Hoovertrons whirred past. “Their programming is too basic, Captain. They simply carry out orders.”

  The corridor began to widen, revealing long windows on the left that faced the great and terrible darkness of the black hole.

  “How long do we have before the gravity from the black hole gets us?” Rocky asked, staring uneasily at the view.

  “Forty-three minutes,” said Splash. “Roughly speaking.”

  Captain Krill hitched up his spacesuit, which was feeling a little baggy. “Then we have to avoid the mutineers and find the flight deck as fast as we can.”

  After several minutes they reached an archway on their right, which led through to a vast central space. The walls were high, and intricately decorated with deep golden zigzags. A huge glass roof stretched over their heads.

  “What a place!” said Rocky, admiring the great glass ceiling with its view of the stars. “Perfect for a holiday.”

  “That’s the idea, you beaked banana,” said Fuzz.

  Splash waddled over to a selection of deck games that hung on a rack nearby – skittles, a big version of tic-tac-toe and a selection of toy crossbows. Three brightly coloured targets were set into the golden wall opposite. He took down a toy crossbow and examined it.

  “High-pressure valve, foam arrows,” he said.

  Holding the crossbow up to his shoulder, Splash pulled the trigger. Fing! The arrow shot from the crossbow and stuck, point-first, right in the centre of the middle target.

  “Penguin power!” said Fuzz, impressed.

  Splash shrugged modestly. “I have an eye.”

  “I have two,” Rocky pointed out, “but I can’t shoot like that.”

  There was a large ice rink shaped like a shooting star to the left of the targets. Straight ahead, a sign marked VIEWING PLATFORM pointed at a tall, spiral staircase that twisted up towards the great glass roof.

  “Can we try the ice rink next?” said Rocky.

  “There’s no time for fun and games,” said Captain Krill. He gazed up the staircase. “We have a flight deck to find. Perhaps we can work out where aft is from the viewing platform.”

  At the top of the stairs, the penguins were surrounded by windows on all sides, offering a near-perfect view of section V of the universe. The black hole lurked ahead. It looked closer than before.

  “We must be in the shark-fin bit of the ship,” said Rocky with a whistle. “You can see everything!”

  From up on the platform they could see that the central deck below was divided into different sections. As well as the games and the ice rink, there was a library, a space garden, a climbing wall, a beauty parlour and a gigantic aquarium filled with colourful fish. Near the aquarium was a set of big golden doors.

  Captain Krill studied the shape of the transparent fin curving over their heads. “The fin curves behind us,” he said. He looked over the edge of the viewing platform again. “So those golden doors must be aft. Head that way, and we’ll find the flight deck.”

  “Excellent detective work, Captain,” said Splash.

  Fuzz suddenly gasped and pointed.

  “What the whale-blubber is THAT?” he said.

  Far below the penguins, books lay scattered across the library floor. A host of Hoovertrons were collecting them up and placing them on to shelves. The books that remained spelled out something across the carpet.

  “Someone’s left a message!” said Captain Krill.

  “But what does ‘elps’ mean?” said Fuzz.

  “Perhaps it’s like yelps,” said Rocky. “Only quieter.”

  “Look! There are more letters in the aquarium, Captain,” said Splash.

  A long, eel-like robot was swimming around the aquarium, tidying up the rocks and pebbles that lay on the bottom. The largest rocks still spelled HE P U.

  “They’ve spelled hippo wrong,” said Rocky.

  “This is all very fishy,” said Captain Krill.

  Fuzz’s stomach rumbled. “What?” he said, when the others looked at him. “I’m looking at fish, you mentioned fish… I’m a penguin. I get hungry.”

  “Both messages are the same,” said Splash. “The Hoovertrons have just tidied up different letters. If we put them together…”

  “They say HELP US!” shouted Fuzz.

  “Technically, they say HEELPP US,” said Splash.

  “It sounds extra urgent when you spell it like that,” said Rocky.

  “Quickly, crew,” said Captain Krill. “We must get to that library!”

  The penguins hurried back down the stairs. A bit too fast.

  “Whoa!” Splash flapped his flippers, startled, as his feet got tangled in his oddly baggy spacesuit. He tumbled forward, taking Rocky with him, then Fuzz – and then the Captain himself.

  WHUMP! CRUMP! FLUMP!

  Within moments, the Space Penguins lay in a crumpled heap at the bottom of the stairs.

  “I didn’t mean that quickly,” said Captain Krill.

  By the time they waddled breathlessly into the library, the Hoovertrons had gone and the books were sitting neatly back on the shelves. There was no sign at all that a message had been left.

  “Those Hoovertrons are too efficient,” Fuzz complained.

  “Not that efficient,” said Splash.

  Someone had spilled a cup of what looked like coffee on the golden carpet. Four wet footprints led from the brown puddle towards the exit.

  Captain Krill clasped his flippers behind his back. “It’s clear to me that four different-sized, one-legged aliens have recently been in this library,” he said.

  “How do you know that?” said Rocky.

  “The coffee is still wet,” the Captain replied. “And if you look closely at the footprints, they are all different sizes. Four aliens. One leg each.”

  “What are the chances of four different-sized, one-legged aliens having exactly the same shaped feet, Captain?” said Splash, studying the footprints. “Could there be another explanation? Could this alien have been shrinking, one foot at a time?”

  Captain Krill waved a flipper in the air. “Shrinking? Nonsense, Splash. They will all be from one family. Father, mother and two infants. There’s nothing more to see in here. Let’s examine the aquarium.”

  The aquarium was set into the floor like a swimming pool and a shining golden bridge ran across it. Ghostly back-up lights shone upwards from the bottom of the water, giving all the fish a greenish glow.

  “Leave this to me,” said Fuzz, preparing to leap in. “One for all and all for FISH!”

  “Wait, Fuzz!” Rocky shouted. “You’re still wearing—”

  SPLOSH!

  “—your spacesuit!”

  “Swim back to the surface at onc
e, Fuzz!” said Captain Krill through his headset, peering into the water.

  Fuzz grabbed a long silvery eel and floated back to the top with his prize.

  “If you’ve damaged your suit, Fuzz,” warned Splash, as they yanked the little penguin ashore, “I’ll be angrier than a shark in swimming trunks.”

  “Take it easy, Grandma,” said Fuzz. His headset fizzed and crackled. “The suit’s fine. A little stretched, maybe.”

  “Funny, my spacesuit feels a bit baggy too,” said Rocky.

  “Get out of that suit before you electrocute yourself on the circuitry, Fuzz,” Captain Krill ordered. “Splash, what’s the atmosphere like on board this ship?”

  Splash pulled a winking electronic instrument out of his toolbox and took a reading. “Oxygen, Captain,” he reported. “Safe to breathe.”

  The penguins all flipped open their helmets and took off their spacesuits.

  “That’s better,” said Captain Krill, flexing his flippers. “My diet and exercise plan is clearly working because my suit was feeling strangely large. I’ll have to adjust it when we get back to the ship.”

  “Hmm,” said Splash, staring thoughtfully at the Captain’s suit.

  The eel’s teeth glinted as it snapped its jaws at Fuzz.

  “OW!” Fuzz roared, waggling his flipper. “It just BIT me!”

  “Throw it back, Fuzz,” said Captain Krill. “You don’t know where it’s been.”

  Moving around the Superduper Startrooper was much easier without their baggy suits on. The penguins left them in a heap by the aquarium. Splash tucked his toolbox among the suits too. It was getting strangely heavy.

  More Hoovertrons appeared as the penguins reached the far side of the aquarium bridge.

  “These guys look bigger than the other ones,” said Rocky. “Hey, watch where you’re going, scampi-chops!” he added, rubbing one vacuumed foot as the Hoovertrons whirred past.

  Everything looked bigger on this side of the aquarium. The golden doors they’d seen from the viewing platform. The golden zigzag patterns cut deep into the walls.

  “Can spaceships grow?” asked Fuzz. He studied his flippers hopefully. “Maybe I’ll grow, too.”

  “Could the black hole be affecting the size of the ship?” Captain Krill asked Splash.

  Splash was looking at the zigzag patterns on the walls with an odd look on his face. “Black holes can’t change ships,” he told the Captain. “But they can change organic matter. Living things. Penguins, for example. I don’t want to worry you, but I’m starting to think—”

  “Shh!” Captain Krill interrupted, holding up a flipper. “Can you hear that?”

  A rhythmic sound vibrated through the penguins’ bodies. It was coming from the other side of the large golden doors.

  “It’s that song again,” said Rocky. “The one you like, Captain.”

  The Captain’s face brightened. “‘Starstruck’! We heard it in the background of that distress call, didn’t we? The passengers must be in here! Starstruck, bad luck, being hit by a star can really suck…”

  “We’re looking for the flight deck, not the passengers, Captain,” said Fuzz. He pointed away from the doors. “We should be going that way.”

  But drawn by the sound of his favourite song, the Captain had already leaned his flippers against the doors and pushed them open.

  A huge ballroom hung with three giant chandeliers met the penguins’ eyes. The chandeliers were covered in hundreds of brightly blazing candles, which cast a warm yellow glow over an extravagant-looking banquet laid out on a long white table near the door.

  “Those candles are a fire hazard,” said Captain Krill, humming along to “Starstruck”, as the tune poured from a set of speakers near the wall.

  “But very pretty,” said Rocky. “Useful, too, now the main lights have all gone out.”

  A number of smaller tables, brightly decorated with big pink helium balloons and flowers were positioned around a shiny gold dance floor. Bowls of pale green soup filled with floating ice cubes sat untouched at every place setting. The only thing missing from the richly decorated room was the party guests.

  “No passengers,” said Rocky, looking around. “Can we go and find those engines now, Captain? Er, Captain?”

  Captain Krill was swaying to “Starstruck”, his flippers clasped in front of him.

  “Feet on fire, ears ablaze, dazzled by your burning gaze,” he sang. “In a minute, Rocky, this is my favourite part.”

  “That must be the robot chef Marin-8’s legendary galactic gazpacho!” said Fuzz, staring at the bowls of soup on the tables.

  “You know, this tune isn’t so bad the second time,” said Rocky. He started dancing until his eyebrows twirled around his head.

  “It wasn’t bad the first time, either,” said the Captain, feeling offended. “Did you know Veezli Measly wrote this after he was hit by a meteorite?”

  Fuzz whooped and did a funky knee-slide. FLUMP.

  “I was hoping to slide under you and out the other side, Captain,” said Fuzz in a muffled voice, wedged somewhere underneath Captain Krill’s tummy. “That’s how it works in movies.”

  “It’s not a dance move best suited to penguins, Fuzz,” said the Captain, helping the little penguin to his feet.

  “Wake up, you goofy guppies!” Splash snapped. “We have approximately twenty-one minutes to find the flight deck, switch the thrusters back on and get out of here before the black hole sucks us away like bathwater down a plughole! And to add to our problems, I think we’re—”

  The doors suddenly banged open.

  “Weapons, team!” cried the Captain, reaching for his zap-o-blaster. His flippers met thin air.

  “We left our weapons beside the aquarium with our spacesuits!” gasped Rocky. “We’ll have to rely on our wits!”

  “You won’t last long then, will you?” Fuzz said.

  An army of fifty Hoovertrons whirred into the ballroom, heading towards the beautifully laid tables. They seemed more menacing than before, their hungry vacuum attachments sweeping around the room. Decorations, cutlery, glasses, tablecloths, balloons, galactic gazpacho. Everything started disappearing through the Hoovertrons’ tubes, the pink helium balloons popping like gunfire.

  SCHLOOP. CRUNCH. SCHLOOP. SQUEAK-POP.

  “This is a whole new level of cleaning,” said Fuzz, as the tables themselves started disappearing into the vacuum tubes. “Haven’t these guys ever heard of recycling?”

  Five tables had already disappeared. Now ten. Fifteen. The Hoovertrons were getting closer and closer to the penguins all the time, arms sweeping, sucking, crunching.

  CRUNCH. SCHLOOP. CRUNCH. SQUEAK-POP.

  “We need to get out of here,” Captain Krill said. “I think these guys might be our mutineers!”

  SCHLOOP. SCHLOOP. SCHLOOP.

  “But they’re running on too simple a program,” Splash pointed out. “They can’t think for themselves. So—”

  “—someone else must be thinking for them!” Rocky finished. “But who?”

  The big silver robots were everywhere, sucking and chomping and splintering the beautiful tables into nothing. The penguins looked helplessly towards the ballroom doors. They were further away than they had been expecting.

  SCHLOOP. CRUNCH.

  The penguins were completely surrounded!

  “I’ve got it!” Splash said, as the shredded remains of a pink helium balloon disappeared up the nose of a Hoovertron. “We’ll fly out of here.”

  A Hoovertron’s sucking arm swept dangerously close to Rocky’s eyebrows, nearly tugging them from his head. “I hate to point this out at such a critical time, Splash,” he shouted over the noise, “but PENGUINS CAN’T FLY.”

  Splash pointed at a nearby helium balloon, still attached to its table. “Pull a ribbon loose and hold on to one of those!”

  “Don’t be absurd,” said the Captain. “We’re far too big to ride on balloons.”

  “That’s what I’ve been trying to t
ell you, Captain,” said Splash. “We’re shr—”

  SQUEAK-POP. SQUEAK-POP.

  Balloons were exploding all around the room, as they shot up the vacuuming arms of the Hoovertrons.

  “We are the Space Penguins!” Fuzz roared. “Watch us FLY!”

  The little penguin scrambled up on to the nearest chair, but fell off again before he reached the seat. Captain Krill gave him a flipper-up, then heaved himself up as well.

  The balloon ribbons were tied to a weighted block in the centre of the table. When did the helium balloons get so big? Captain Krill wondered, as he breathlessly unlooped the ribbons. When did everything get so big?

  “Lift-off!” cried Rocky, the first to wrap his balloon ribbon around his waist and float towards the ceiling.

  Fuzz was next, then Splash. Captain Krill kicked with his legs, trying to swim through the air and catch up.

  The Hoovertrons suddenly stopped what they were doing. The floating penguins gazed down from their helium balloons, wondering what had changed.

  “Who’s the red dude?” said Rocky, pointing.

  A shiny, bright red robot had appeared through a door at the back of the ballroom. He was considerably bigger than the Hoovertrons, and wearing a tall white chef’s hat. Buttons winked on his belly. Instead of hands, kitchen utensils – spatulas, whisks, cleavers and graters – hung at the ends of his four arms.

  “Oh my codfish,” Fuzz gasped. “That’s Marin-8. The Superduper Startrooper’s robot chef!”

  Marin-8’s eyes shone with a weird brightness. His utensil-hands shook and clattered by his side.

  “CLEAN,” he ordered in a harsh metallic voice. “TIDY. CLEAN.”

  “Marin-8 doesn’t look very happy,” said Splash. “There’s smoke coming out of his head.”

  “I feel like that sometimes,” said Fuzz. “When you guys don’t eat what I’ve cooked.” He gasped for the second time. “The galactic gazpacho! How many tables were down there? Before the Hoovertrons sucked them up?”