by J. J. Green
Mission Improbable
Carrie Hatchett Space Adventures #1
J.J. Green
This novel uses British spellings
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Table of Contents
Chapter One – Through The Glowing Green Mist
Chapter Two – Nature Calls
Chapter Three – The Bug
Chapter Four – Dave
Chapter Five – Date With Disaster
Chapter Six – Bombardment
Chapter Seven – Out of This World
Chapter Eight – In the Hold
Chapter Nine – Saved by the Bug
Chapter Ten – Death by Custard
Chapter Eleven – The Oootoon
Chapter Twelve – Bubble Passage
Chapter Thirteen – War Zone
Chapter Fourteen – Carrie’s Replacement
Chapter Fifteen – A Difference of Opinion
Chapter Sixteen - Belinda
Chapter Seventeen – The Oootoon Fights Back
Chapter Eighteen - Trapped
Chapter Nineteen – Back to the Shredder
Chapter Twenty – Surprise Discovery
Chapter Twenty-One – Paperclip Battle
Chapter Twenty-Two – Where Have All the Placktoids Gone?
Chapter Twenty-Three – Oootoon Everywhere
Chapter Twenty-Four – Shredder Pursuit
Chapter Twenty-Five – Oootoon Solution
Chapter Twenty-Six – The Final Push
Chapter Twenty-Seven – Mellow Yellow
Chapter Twenty-Eight – Farewell Oootoon
Chapter Twenty-Nine – Back to Work
Prologue
On caterpillar tracks, the mechanical alien trundled to the ocean’s edge, where a sluggish liquid flopped onto the sand, withdrew and flopped again, under a deep violet sky. The alien inserted a tube beneath the ripples. Suction commenced, accompanied by a low vibration. As the extracted liquid gurgled and slurped, the mechanical alien transmitted a message to central command: Operation progressing satisfactorily.
Unnoticed, in the glimmering darkness beyond the shoreline, a wave appeared. Unnoticed, the wave approached slowly, silently, stealthily. Unnoticed, it loomed like a predatory beast. With a dreadful, dull splash, the wave fell. When it withdrew, the sand was bare.
Central command’s communications went unanswered. It never heard from the mechanical alien again.
Chapter One – Through The Glowing Green Mist
Carrie Hatchett’s interviewer, Ms. Bass, had no eyebrows. Or, rather, she had pretend eyebrows. About halfway between the naked ridges where her natural eyebrows once grew and her hairline were two thinly drawn, semi-circular lines. A cloud of bouffant grey hair circled her head.
Carrie watched the pretend eyebrows to see if they moved along with the rest of Ms. Bass’ face, but they did not. No expression seemed to register on them. They were independent, only supervising the action going on below. Carrie was sure of it because she watched for several minutes while Ms. Bass’ voice droned in her ears.
But then a sharp frown drew the eyebrows down until they were almost within a natural distance of her eyes.
“Ms. Hatchett? Ms. Hatchett? Did you hear what I just said? Are you listening?”
Carrie, startled, forced her gaze down to Ms. Bass’ face, and flinched at her stony look. “What? I’m sorry? What did you say?”
“I said, your CV doesn’t mention any call centre experience.”
“That’s right, I’ve never worked in a call centre.” Carrie fidgeted. The rent on her new flat was expensive. She needed this job. And she wanted it. For once in her life, she was going to be a success. She was determined.
Ms. Bass lowered Carrie’s CV to the table. “You are aware the position you’re interviewing for is supervisor of a call centre?”
“Yes.”
“But you’ve never worked in a call centre before?”
“No.”
“Ms. Hatchett, do you even know what goes on in call centres?”
“People...” Carrie recalled the office cubicles she had passed when she came in, which had been full of people wearing headsets, speaking into microphones, and watching computer screens. “...take calls?” She twisted a ring around her middle finger. She should have done some research before coming to the interview, but she had been busy unpacking and getting Toodles and Rogue settled into their new home.
Ms. Bass sighed and leafed through Carrie’s CV. She frowned. “What’s Bagua Zhang?”
“It’s a martial art. I’m a—”
Waving a hand to silence her, the woman cleared her throat. “So, you’ve worked in a florist’s, been a professional dog walker, spent a summer selling ice-cream and worked as a...” She removed her glasses and squinted, moving the paper away from her face. “A birthday telegram girl?”
“Yes, but the clean kind. You know, teddy bears, rabbits, Disney princesses, that kind of thing. Not the...” Carrie swallowed. “...the other kind.” She pulled her skirt closer to her knees.
Ms. Bass locked eyes with Carrie for a silent moment, then placed the CV on her desk. She picked up a checklist and began ticking boxes.
“You don’t suffer any chronic illnesses, do you?”
“No.”
“Mental illness? Depression?”
“No.”
“Good. That’s very good.” Ms. Bass nodded. “We have enough of that around here as it is.”
She ticked a few more boxes. Carrie leaned forward to read the list, but Ms. Bass curled the paper up and away from her, smiling tightly. “Excuse me a moment.” She got up from her desk, taking the checklist with her, and went to her office door. She peered down the corridor towards the chairs where Carrie had sat, alone, while waiting to be called in. She left, leaving the door ajar, and a moment later her shrill voice echoed up the corridor. “No one else applied at all? Not even a phone call?”
Carrie couldn’t make out the reply but she soon heard footsteps thumping closer. Ms. Bass entered, sat and put on her glasses. Gathering up the papers on her desk, she fixed Carrie with a glare.
“When can you start?”
Carrie’s mouth fell open. “You mean I’ve—?”
“Yes, yes. What’s the earliest you can start? Tomorrow?”
“Tomorrow? Yes, I think I can start tomorrow.”
“Good. Nine o’clock. I’ll put you on the day shift, but we’re open twenty-four hours and at other times you might have to do the evening or graveyard shift. Okay?” It was more of a challenge than a question.
Carrie opened her mouth.
“We can sort out the details tomorrow. See you then, Ms...Ms...” Ms. Bass stood and held out her hand.
“Hatchett.” Carrie shook the offered hand.
“Ms. Hatchett. Welcome to the team.”
***
As she finished unpacking that evening, Carrie could see Toodles and Rogue were as excited about her new job as she was. Toodles was, admittedly, hiding under the bed and throwing out her claws to scratch Carrie whenever she walked too close, and Rogue was sitting in the corner of the living room staring gloomily at the wall, his normally waggy tail motionless, but Carrie could tell that, deep down, they shared her happiness.
She removed newspaper wrappings from some glasses and put them away in a kitchen cupboard before starting on her mugs, bowls and plates. The kitchen in her new flat was a little poky and the door of the cupboard under the sink was stuck, but the flat would have to do for now. M
aybe after a while working as a...what was it?...call centre supervisor, she would get a raise or a promotion and she would be able to afford a better place.
She tried the cupboard under the sink again, but the door would not budge. She would have to speak to her landlady about it.
A fresh start in a new area and, within a week, a new job. It was more than she could have hoped for. Just a couple of weeks ago, when Barry had dumped her, she’d never imagined she would get back on her feet again so quickly. Huh, Barry! What a loser. She was better off without him. She would email him tonight and tell him her good news; then he would see what a mistake he had made.
It’d been a such a shock when he said he wanted to split up. Everything had been fine between them, then suddenly, goodbye Carrie. She never listened to him, he’d said. Never took any notice of anything he told her. It was like living with a brick wall. Carrie shook her head. What a load of rubbish. She might lose track of the conversation sometimes, but everyone did that.
Carrie put her saucepans, frying pans and baking trays in a cupboard and flattened the empty cardboard box. She nodded to herself. Yes, Barry was an idiot. She would soon find someone new. There was that employee at the call centre who’d given her a wink when she walked past. He was gorgeous, and friendly. Maybe he was single. She would have to find out more about him tomorrow.
All the cardboard boxes in the kitchen were empty so Carrie went to check the rest of the flat. She saw a small unopened box in the bedroom. Toodles’ claws flashed out as she passed the bed, but she sidestepped just in time.
“Toodles, sweetiepie, did you miss Mummy?”
Carrie opened the box. Inside were a bottle of washing up liquid, scourers, a plunger, washing up brushes, spray cleaner and cloths. Everything that should go under the kitchen sink. She would have to force that door open.
On the way back past the bed Toddles caught her, raking three long scratches through her tights.
“Ow! Toodles, that really hurt. Don’t be cheeky.” Carrie squatted and peered under the bed. Baleful orange eyes glowed in the shadows. “You’re a very naughty girl sometimes, did you know that?” As Carrie reached towards the cat, her claws made another lightning-fast appearance, and Carrie snatched her hand away. A hiss was followed by a guttural, whining growl.
Squinting into the darkness Carrie said, “Okay, so you want to be alone for a little while. I can see that. It’s a new place and you’re feeling vulnerable. I get it.” She stood and picked up the box. “Barry doesn’t know what he’s talking about. I do listen. I do hear what people have to say.”
After returning to the kitchen, Carrie pulled with all her might at the stubborn cupboard door, but it would not budge. She opened the other cupboards, but they were all full. She frowned at the box of kitchen stuff. It was so annoying. It was the last box, and if she could just put the contents away she would be finished.
Rogue clattered into the kitchen, barking, his paws slipping on the tiles. Carrie smiled. Her lovely handsome dog was feeling better already. Then she noticed what he was barking at. The cupboard door under the sink was glowing, a green pulsating light. Her hand went to her mouth. “Oh no. Rogue, what is it?”
Toodles’ catty whine from the bedroom joined Rogue’s deep-throated woofs, creating an escalating cacophony until, with a bang, the door flew open. Carrie jumped. Rogue whimpered and fled, his tail between his legs. Toodles’ whine stopped. A vivid green glow shone from the cupboard, bathing the kitchen in an eerie light.
Her heart in her mouth, Carrie stumbled back towards the kitchen door, intending to follow Rogue’s hasty retreat, but after a moment she hesitated. Her breathing slowed, and her head tilted to one side. She took a step towards the cupboard, and another. Bending down, she peeped inside.
Green mist swirling in a lazy spiral filled the space. She crouched closer, gazing at the mist. It looked like an emerald Milky Way set in motion, its centre disappearing into infinity. Carrie couldn’t figure out what it was. A gas leak? Something supernatural? She stuck out her nose and sniffed. The mist had no smell. A sudden thought occurred—maybe she could ask for a rent reduction? Swirling green substances in cupboards were definitely an inconvenience, especially when they frightened her pets.
As her hair began to lift and pull towards the open cupboard, Carrie wondered briefly what it might mean, before she was sucked, head first, under her kitchen sink.
Chapter Two – Nature Calls
Carrie slid face downward across a smooth floor until the top of her head encountered a wall, bringing her to an abrupt halt. “Owww!” She pulled herself into a sitting position and rubbed her nose and head while she blinked and looked about.
She could remember Rogue barking, Toodles yowling and a glowing green mist that sucked her into a cupboard and... She looked around again. The creamy white ceramic floor she had slid along rose seamlessly into walls and a ceiling, as though she were inside a roofed coffee cup. Behind her, the place she had entered through was now smooth and whole. She searched the area, running her fingertips over the surface. There was no sign of an entrance, and the green mist had completely disappeared. Stepping back, she peered left and right. The corridor was curved like a tunnel and led away on either side of her, lit by a soft glow which seemed to have no source.
Carrie smiled and nodded confidently. “I get it. This is a dream. I must have fallen asleep. Shouldn’t have had that half bottle of wine after dinner.” She shrugged. “Oh well, might as well follow it through.” She pointed at the either end of the tunnel alternately, mouthing an old nursery rhyme, before settling on one and striding away.
Curved recesses that Carrie assumed were doors of some kind lined the tunnel walls, apparently randomly along the sides, floor, and ceiling. Bordering each recessed section were long lines of symbols, some black, some raised, and some flashing intermittently. Pressing on the recessed areas and the symbols caused no reaction, Carrie discovered. She frowned, wondering when she would wake up.
Walking farther, she found that new corridors opened in the tunnel walls, and she followed them randomly. They all seemed identical but for the symbols along the edges of the recesses. She examined them closely and found that no two sets of symbols were the same. The only factors linking them were their positioning in the corridors and their utter lack of any apparent meaning. There was nothing she remotely recognised. She began to take a dim view of her subconscious for coming up with this stuff.
As she wandered along, a nagging ache in her lower regions alerted her to another reason she needed to wake up. The after-dinner wine she had drunk had made its way through her body and was now asking to be released. Carrie stopped and closed her eyes before quickly opening them wide. “Damn. Why can’t I wake up?” She began marching in small steps. “Come on, dream, be over.” She increased her pace, hoping her dreaming mind would supply an exit.
She stopped. There it was, unmistakeable, the symbol to answer her prayers. Towards the top of a recess was a black circle above a triangle with a rectangle below. She had found the women’s toilets. Her sleeping mind must have put the symbol there as a way to leave her dream.
Reaching up, Carrie thumped the symbol and stood back expectantly. The recess didn’t open nor move even slightly. “Oh, come on.” She scanned the rest of the meaningless signs and pressed them up and down the line randomly, then in sequence, then in patterns. She tried hitting them hard and pressing them gently. “Open up! I want to wake up now. I need to spend a penny.” The motionless face of the recess seemed to mock her. “Now you’re being really annoying.”
She drummed on the symbols, the walls, the recess, and the floor until, an uncomfortably long time later, she gave up. Up and down the corridor all was still and silent. This dream was crazy. She vowed never to drink after dinner again. And maybe even before dinner. Or while eating.
Wondering what to do next, she rested her hand against the recess. As her palm made contact the barrier disappeared, sending her tumbling through an open entranc
e.
Her knees struck the floor and she threw her hands out while screwing her eyes shut against a glaring white light, much brighter than the soft glow of the corridor. She opened her eyes a slit, then immediately closed them again. Her dream had turned into a nightmare. Her brief glimpse had told her she was in a cream ceramic room, and at its centre squatted a large, bronze, hard-shelled, many jointed, bug-eyed thing. Carrie swallowed and, with a sense of inevitability, looked over her shoulder towards the opening she had fallen through. It was no longer there.
“Wake up now, please,” she squeaked. Squinting ahead once more, a faint hope formed in her. Maybe the creature wasn’t alive? Maybe it was a statue?
Ten pairs of legs started simultaneously into motion. The thing scuttled towards her, and Carrie scuttled backwards on hands and feet, never taking her eyes from the monster, until she reached the corner of the room. “Dream be over, dream be over.” She pasted herself into the unyielding wall. The huge bug approached, dripping mucus from its jaws as they opened, the claws at the ends of its legs tapping against the ceramic floor. When its head was a short distance from Carrie’s face, the creature stopped. She was entertaining a fleeting thought that there was a tiny, remote chance she wouldn’t be eaten, when another set of jaws, smaller, sharper and infinitely more vicious, appeared from the gaping maw.
Carrie closed her eyes and waited for the end, wondering if it was possible to feel pain in dreams.
“Thank you for coming. Would you please take a seat?”
Chapter Three – The Bug
Carrie’s eyes snapped open. Knife-edged mini-jaws were inches from her face. Her terrified expression was reflected in each of the creature’s hundred eyes. Drips of mucus spattered on the floor, and steamed.