by Sue Bough
“Little did he know that someone had watched him leave…”
*
Of course, Norman would have been horrified to learn that a Scudder lived under his bed, but in fact Scheherazade (known as Sherri to her friends) had been there since the day he was born. It didn’t matter to her that he hated Scudders – a fact she had discovered when she crawled onto the bed to see the new baby. She soon disappeared when Norm started screaming!
Now, Sherri only crept out when she was sure Norman was asleep. Then she would climb up the bedcovers and sit on his pillow to watch over him and whisper stories in his ear – she was an excellent storyteller. This was probably because she was named after a famous lady on Earth who told a thousand and one tales to the King of Persia to save her life. He was so enchanted by these adventures that he made her his Queen. Sherri loved the fact that they shared the same name.
*
“You’re late!” A hiss from the bushes made Norm leap from his skin. Ern scrambled out of the hedge.
“You’re lucky I’m here at all,” whispered Norm. “I can’t believe I let you persuade me this was a good idea.”
“Well, you’re here now so we might as well get on with it. Things can’t get any worse.” Ern sounded unusually gloomy.
“What’s up?”
“Boris Whinge, that’s what’s up. I was in the middle of my audition for the hooting solo – you know, the high bit where you really have to breathe hard – and the creep stuck a drawing pin in my backside. I went all off-key and screechy.”
“That’s outrageous!” shouted Norm, forgetting for a moment that they were on a secret mission. “What did Miss Harmony say?”
“Well, I tried to explain, but I was so angry; I kept breathing in all the wrong places after that so she’s gone and given the solo to him!”
The sight of his friend looking so utterly dejected spurred Norman into action.
“Right, come on,” he said. “We’re off to the Wasteland. Once we’ve found Spong, we can sort Whinger out once and for all. He’s gone too far this time.”
Norm strode off into the night, muttering to himself. Ernie hurried behind, feeling excited once more about their adventure.
They very nearly didn’t make it to the end of the road. In his angry state, Norm didn’t spot the glow of a Firelamp rounding the corner. Only Ernie’s quick reaction, pulling him into another hedge, prevented him from running straight into Bert Snatchitt, their local Poggle Warden.
Bert wasn’t someone you wanted to meet at any time. Not in the daytime when you were minding your own business, and certainly not when you were sneaking around after bedtime. He gave Poggle Wardens a bad name and was always on the lookout for someone to intimidate and threaten. Norm stifled a squeak.
“Right then, where are you…? Thirty minutes after bedtime, young Master Whinge said, so you ought to be here by now. Up to no good he said, and I won’t have that… not on my watch,” Bert muttered to himself; and he swung his lamp into the bushes, missing the end of Ern’s snout by millimetres. Ernie felt the heat building up on the end of his hooter – he would have to move…
Suddenly there was a whistling noise. Bert jerked round to see Flint Zippo on his way home from tending the Firelighters in the Star Chamber.
“Evening, Bert, what are you up to?” Flint asked with a gleam in his eye.
“Acting on a tip-off if you must know,” replied Bert, drawing himself up to his full height. “I’m reliably informed that those two mischief-makers, Snodgrass and Sludgebucket, are planning a moonlit flit around about now. I’m going to catch them at it.”
“Norman and Ernie, you mean? Mischief-makers? I think someone’s pulling your leg, Bert – why, you couldn’t meet two nicer young Poggles. Who’s your informant?”
“No, no, it wouldn’t be right for me to divulge my sources,” said Bert pompously. “The Poggle Public have to know they can approach me in total confidence with this sort of information.”
“Quite,” said Flint, trying to stop the corners of his mouth from turning up, “but if it was that Boris Whinge I’d take it with a pinch of salt. Everyone knows he has a grudge against those two. He’s most likely sent you on a wild Scudder chase over here to throw you off the scent of something he’s up to himself.”
Bert Snatchitt turned red but quietly said, “Like I say, I can’t divulge – but I’m confident I’m acting on sound information.”
“Well, it’s good to know you’re on the case, Bert. The streets wouldn’t be safe without you!” And openly chuckling to himself, Flint Zippo strolled off.
Bert waited until he was out of earshot then blurted, “That bloomin’ Boris Whinge! Of course it’s a cover-up. He must think I arrived on the Planet yesterday!” With a furious snort, Bert turned on his heel and headed off in the direction of Boris’s home pod.
Silence fell again, only to be broken by the rustling of bushes as Norm and Ernie stumbled out. Ernie rubbed his overheated hooter.
“I don’t believe it!” exclaimed Norm.
“He must have overheard us in the playpod!” muttered Ernie. “He’s really done it this time!”
“Well, Boris will get a shock when Snatchitt turns up at his door, and it serves him right. Now, let’s get out of here before anything else happens.” Norman led the way again.
The two Poggles ran around the corner and along the path, keeping to the shadows. Soon they spotted the familiar sight of a luminous glass globe painted with a large capital Z, marking the entrance to their nearest Zube Tube. They entered and Ernie positioned his middle finger over the button marked ‘Wasteland’. The friends exchanged nervous glances and Ernie pushed it.
There was a shush and a whoosh and ten seconds later the intrepid adventurers stepped out into the dingy green gloom. The smell of rotten eggs hung in the air, and an occasional ‘blooping’ noise could be heard as bubbles of gas broke the surface of the many mud pools that surrounded them.
“Blibey, whad a disgustig place!” said Norm, holding his hooter.
“Yeah, we should have come here to do our homework – it’s crawling with bugs!” Ern swatted at a Spring Fly that had just landed on his ear.
Norm eyed the ground, nervously looking for Scudders, and frowned.
“What are they doing? They’re all heading in the same direction over that hill.”
He pointed towards a small mound in the distance, above which the air was black with flies.
“Better have a look… No sign of Spong here, anyway.”
Ernie moved off and Norm followed, treading carefully and flinching at every scuttling insect in his path.
A few moments later they scrambled up to the top of the hill. An incredible stench hit their nostrils, making their eyes water. They rubbed their faces and, as the tears cleared, gasped at what they saw.
“They gasped at what they saw…”
Spread beneath them was a huge polythene dome, which rippled and pulsed as if it were alive. Hundreds of dirty, brown waste pipes rose from the ground surrounding it, feeding filth into the already straining structure. At the edges of the dome, bubbles of gas escaped with loud ‘bloops’ and trickles of waste seeped out, attracting clouds of flies. The whole thing looked like it would explode at any minute.
“What on the Planet is that?” exclaimed Norm.
“It must be the Waste Dome,” replied Ern. “Zohar keeps talking about it in assembly… I never imagined it would be as revolting as this.”
“Surely Spong wouldn’t be here?” Norm gazed at the eyesore in front of him and tried to imagine what a curious furry creature would do in this place. He studied the ground again for any signs of bounce marks in the dust. “There’s no sign of him, Ern; we ought to go back.”
Norm turned round to his friend – but he was gone.
“Ern? Ernie! Where are you? Don’t mess about!”
Silence.
“Ern, I’m not kidding – this is no time to play games!” Norm looked back down the hillside. He could just make out the entrance to the Zube Tube through the smog. Nothing. “Ern, I’m really sc—”
“Wow! You’ll never guess what I’ve found!” Ernie’s grinning face popped up from a nearby crater.
“Don’t ever do that again! I thought the Scudders had got you. Have you found Spong?”
“Sorry, mate, I slipped into this hole and… it’s amazing – come and see!” He disappeared again, leaving Norm no choice but to follow or be left alone.
Norm descended into the hole. It opened out into a large cave-like space. As his eyes adjusted to the dim light, he made out the shape of Ernie further in, beckoning him over. He followed and saw a huge pair of double wooden doors set into the far wall of the cave. One was slightly ajar, giving out a shaft of warm light.
“Whaddya make of this, then?” whispered Ernie excitedly.
“Wow! I’ve never seen doors like that before. They look so old. Who on the Planet needs something that big?” Secretly Norm didn’t really want to know.
“We could always go in and find out?” Ern took a step towards the open door.
“You have got to be kidding!” hissed Norm. “We should get out of here!”
“Shh! Listen!” Ernie cocked his ear to the door. A faint squeaking came from inside.
“It can’t be!” Norm shook his head in disbelief. “Spong!” he shouted.
The squeaks increased in volume and, without thinking, Norm pushed open the door and hurried in.
He found himself in a vast hallway. The floor was highly polished and made of small sections of wood, glued down in a neat pattern. (On Earth we would call this a parquet floor but Norman had never seen anything like it.) Halfway down the hall was a high side-table, over which hung an arched mirror. Loosely tied to one of the table legs was a leash, which led to a sumptuous, red velvet cushion on the floor below. In the middle of the cushion, a furry orange creature was squeaking and wriggling excitedly.
“Spong!” cried Norman and Ernie as they ran towards him.
Norman scooped him up, and Ernie ruffled his fur happily. Spong turned a golden yellow and burst into contented purrs and trills.
“Where have you been, you naughty Minky? You shouldn’t have bounced off. I’ve been so worried about you!” Norm tried to scold his companion but couldn’t hide his joy on being reunited. “Come on, we’d better get you home.” He reached to untie the leash from the table leg.
“Look at this,” said Ernie, standing on tiptoe and squinting at a jar of brown liquid resting on top of the table. A neat label on the jar said ‘Sample No. 263’, with that day’s date below it. “Funny thing to have in a place like this… I wonder what it is?” He reached for the jar.
“DON’T TOUCH THAT!” boomed a voice behind them.
The Laboratory
Norman and Ernie were glued to the spot. Reflected behind them, in the mirror above the hall table, they saw a giant. Or rather, they could see the arms and legs of an enormous creature covered in strange grey material – its head was out of view.
“Sorry, I really didn’t mean to shout,” the creature spoke again. “It’s just that the jar is contaminated. I never touch them without my gloves, and I didn’t want you to pick up something nasty.”
None of this made any sense to the two terrified Poggles, who remained motionless. Spong, on the other hand, was still squeaking happily and straining on his leash towards the giant.
“Ah, Spong! Didn’t I tell you they’d come looking for you? I take it from your excitement that I have the honour of meeting Norman Snodgrass and Ernie Sludgebucket! What an absolute pleasure. I’m Professor Zube.”
Norman and Ernie watched the reflections of their eyes widen and their mouths drop open. Slowly they turned and saw… not a scary giant but their first ever Human Being. True, he was about three feet taller than them and wore peculiar clothes (a grey suit) with round objects on it (buttons), but his face, although stranger than anything they had ever seen, was smiling and looked friendly enough. His skin was much paler than theirs (and not blue, of course) and the top of his head was shiny, with tufts of white hair.
“Reflected behind them…
they saw a giant…”
He wore two small rounds of glass in front of his eyes, which were held there by some gold wire tucked behind his ears. Most peculiar.
“Oh dear, this must all be very alarming for you. Never seen a Human Being before, of course. Well, while you come to terms with it, why don’t you come through to my Laboratory and I’ll rustle us up a snack. You must be hungry – it’s nearly midnight.”
The mention of food brought Norman partially to his senses and he managed a nod. Professor Zube moved off down the corridor and Spong ran happily after him, the taut lead jerking Norman into motion. He and Ernie followed stiffly, their eyes darting wildly to take in the strange sights around them. They passed several dark doorways until they reached another huge pair of wooden doors, carved with a detailed arrangement of cogs and dials.
Professor Zube stopped in front of them, reached forward and turned the large central dial left and right in a series of quick turns. In a few moments the entire doorway became a mass of movement as the seemingly ornamental, carved cogs began to whir and click into life. Slowly the great portal creaked and parted inwards.
Norman and Ernie had no idea what to expect next but felt disappointed when the doors opened to reveal nothing but a small, white, cube-shaped room. It was completely empty except for two large buttons on the far wall – one red and one green.
“Airlock,” explained Professor Zube simply, stepping forward into the room. “Can’t be too careful. Come on in.”
Norm and Ern stepped inside mechanically, still unable to speak. Professor Zube pressed the red button and the wooden doors creaked shut behind them with a hollow thud. The green button lit up and the Professor pushed it firmly.
“Welcome to my Laboratory.”
Slowly and silently, the entire end wall of the cube room slid sideways to reveal a sight that finally loosened the Poggles’ tongues.
“Wow!” gasped Ernie.
“That’s incredible!” whispered Norm.
In front of them, a rainbow of coloured jars, bottles, flasks, beakers, pipes and bowls was arranged on row upon row of shelves that lined the room. There were many wooden benches, upon which different-coloured liquids and solutions bubbled, steamed and hissed in their containers.
Their eyes absorbed the mix of jewelled colours reflecting the light from the bright white airlock. There were piles of bound paper stacked around the floor (they would later learn that these were books). Some lay open and revealed pages of spidery writing and diagrams. A mixture of smells assailed their hooters, some pleasant and citrusy, others faint and musky. Occasionally they caught a whiff that reminded them of the stench of the Waste Dome, which must be somewhere above their heads.
“Look!” said Norm, pointing to a square glass chamber, inside which was a perfect miniature of the Dome, complete with oozing waste and glooping gas bubbles.
“Ah, you’ve spotted my working model!” Professor Zube almost skipped across the room. He placed his hands into two rubber sleeves with gloves on the end that were set into the side of the glass. He twiddled absent-mindedly with some of the dials inside the chamber and the miniature Dome quivered slightly, emitting gloops of gas at a faster rate. Professor Zube frowned.
“Is everything alright?” asked Ernie.
“Hmm? Oh yes, of course, nothing for you to worry about… I mean, nothing to worry about at all. Just an experiment I’m doing to pass the time – no reason…” he tailed off unconvincingly. “Anyway, where are my manners? I promised you something to eat.”
A few moments later, three comfy armchairs and side tables had
been rescued from beneath piles of books and papers, and an array of strange yet tempting food was spread out. Norm, never one to be afraid to try new delights, spluttered in between mouthfuls.
“Lovely sandwiches; what’s inside them?”
“Cheese and cucumber, and egg and cress. Glad you like them.”
“Cheezenqcumber – how strange – and what does an Eggencress look like?” Norm asked politely between mouthfuls.
Meanwhile, Ernie was grappling with some small brown cylinders impaled on tiny sticks.
“Those are cocktail sausages,” explained Professor Zube; “you don’t—”
“OW!” squealed Ernie, clamping his mouth around the sausage, stick and all.
“… eat the sticks,” finished Professor Zube.
Apart from this incident, their midnight feast was very pleasant. The two Poggles soon forgot that it was anything other than ordinary to be awake at this hour, far from their beds and eating strange-sounding food with a Human Being. While they ate, Professor Zube described his arrival on the Planet (the two Poggles were amazed to learn that Mrs Sippy’s PET tales were true) and his invention of the Zube Tube.
“But why did you disappear, Professor, and why have you let the Zubes get into such a state?” asked Norman.
“Yes, I suppose I ought to give you an explanation,” the Professor replied seriously. “Pass me that small globe from the table over there, would you?”
Norm walked over to a nearby table stacked with labelled jars similar to the one they had seen earlier. In front of these was a green glass globe which shone brightly on one side and yet was dark on the other. It seemed to be almost full of a brown sludgy substance. He took a step forward to pick up the globe, not spotting a pile of books in his path. Norm lurched forward, crashing into the side of the table, and slid into a heap on the floor.
In painful slow motion, the globe rolled slowly towards the edge of the table. Norm was rolling too, trying to get up but hampered by his round belly. The globe reached the edge of the table and gently tipped over. With a soft ‘smat’, it plopped safely onto Norm’s stomach, coming to rest in his belly button.