Harvey Drew and the Bling Bots

by Cas Lester

  ‘Yahoooo!’ they cried.

  Harvey was stunned to see the entire bridge crew whooping and cheering and leaping up and down.

  (I don’t like to be rude, but you don’t have anything nearly as advanced as Techno-tium on your funny little planet, do you?

  It’s the strongest metal in the entire Known Universe, and Beyond. It’s bendier than rubber, stretchier than elastic and lighter than air. Imagine a large solid lump of metal, floating like a helium-filled balloon.

  Of course it does tend to drift off far, far away into outer space, which can be tricky if you’re holding onto a large chunk of it and you’ve forgotten to tie it down.

  Particularly since you won’t ever want to let go of it because … it’s also the most valuable metal in the entire Known Universe, and Beyond.)

  After a few minutes of mayhem and madness, the crew calmed down enough to notice that Harvey was sitting in the tatty black captain’s chair utterly bewildered.

  Hmmm, tricky sums

  ‘Captain,’ said Gizmo. ‘May I remind you of the Intergalactic Travel and Transport Pact rules and regulations regarding rescuing cargo ships?

  ‘Er … yes please,’ said Harvey, who had absolutely no idea what they were.

  ‘Basically, if we rescue a cargo freighter, we get the cargo as our fee!’

  ‘Multicoloured upchuck!’ cried Scrummage, his turquoise eyes shining with greed. ‘We’re rich!’

  ‘How much is the cargo worth?’ asked Harvey.

  ‘No idea,’ grinned Scrummage, rubbing his hands greedily.

  So Harvey asked the computer.

  ‘Hmmm,’ it said importantly. ‘Tricky.’

  ‘It depends on:

  a) how much Techno-tium there is

  b) how many zeros there are in a gazillion

  and

  c) where that funny little decimal dot goes.’

  Its lights flickered furiously. ‘But I’m pretty sure that a nanocrumb of pure Techno-tium is worth – ooh lots!’

  ‘Thank you,’ said Harvey, with a hint of sarcasm.

  ‘My pleasure,’ said the computer brightly and bleeped off.

  ‘Who cares exactly what it’s worth!’ spluttered Scrummage. ‘It’ll be a fortune!’

  ‘Come on, Captain, let’s go!’ cried Maxie, sitting poised at the flight control desk waiting for Harvey’s orders.

  Hmmm, tricky questions

  But Harvey was wary. He hadn’t known his Chief Rubbish Officer very long, but he knew he could be reckless. And that he’d happily load all sorts of horrendously hazardous garbage onto the Toxic Spew, if it were worth enough cosmic cash. So he grilled his Rubbish Officer closely.

  ‘Is it dangerous?’

  ‘Nope.’

  ‘Poisonous?’

  ‘Nope.’

  ‘Illegal?’

  ‘Nope.’

  ‘Explosive?’

  ‘Nope.’

  ‘Is it repulsive, disgusting, revolting, rotting, putrid or in any way likely to make the entire crew vomit themselves to death?’

  ‘Nope! It’s not even smelly. Just very, very valuable.’

  ‘So what are we waiting for, Captain?’ Maxie drummed her fingers on the flight desk. ‘If we don’t get going someone else will there first and snaffle it.

  ‘And we’ll miss out the chance of a lifetime and have to spend the rest of our pitiful lives on the Toxic Spew collecting endless amounts of repulsive rubbish until we all die a hideous death by a catching a fatal dose of Festering Garbage Pox!’

  Hmmm, tricky decision

  ‘Maxie’s right, Captain,’ said Gizmo. ‘And may I point out that if we get a cargo of Techno-tium we’ll be rich enough to stop garbage collection and concentrate on looking for your planet Earth and get you home.’

  Harvey hadn’t thought of that. But now that Gizmo mentioned it, he had to admit that although he was having the greatest adventure in the galaxy, he was really beginning to miss home, his mates, his mum and dad, and football – especially football.

  ‘OK, fine,’ he said. ‘Computer, tell the SupaCosmicCargo ship we’re on our way and plot a course for the Gamma thingy whatsit Belt.’

  ‘Did I hear a please?’ snipped the computer.

  ‘OK, please!’ said Harvey. Blimey, the computer was in a really stroppy mood today.

  Eagerly Maxie slid the flight joysticks forward to Cosmic Speed 8 and Harvey felt the familiar

  LURCH

  as he was flung backwards in his seat as the little intergalactic garbage ship hurtled forward into hyperspace. Then he felt the familiar

  THWACK

  as the back of his head slapped against the metal headrest of his seat.

  The planets and stars on the vast vision screens on all three sides of the bridge seemed to shimmer and then whoosh backwards as the ship zoomed off through the cosmos.

  The gobsmacking awesomeness of outer space

  Harvey sat back to enjoy the ride. He was never, ever going to get used to the thrill of space flight – not even if he lived to be a hundred and six. It was …

  AMAZING

  ASTONISHING

  and

  ASTOUNDING!

  (You might be interested to know that although Galaxy 43b is a fairly scruffy corner of the universe, some bits are actually quite stunning.

  But then again you might not be. In which case you can just skip the next bit.)

  The four moons of the Bebinca Flummery Belt are particularly spectacular. They constantly shimmer and change from bright blue through turquoise to pale green and back again.

  ZOOM …

  The Toxic Spew rocketed past them so quickly they didn’t even have time to change from green back to turquoise.

  WHIZZ …

  It zipped around the massive deep purple planet PannaCotta with its seven swirling bands of orange toxic gas. And then …

  WHOOOSH …

  It shot through the dazzlingly bright multicoloured shooting stars of the Semolina Cluster.

  It’s like flying through an enormous firework display, thought Harvey, gobsmacked. This is … OUT OF THIS WORLD!

  (And of course he’s right. Well, it’s out of your world anyhow. In fact, come to think of it, it’s out of your Galaxy!)

  So the Toxic Spew bravely raced to the rescue of the SupaCosmicCargo craft and its crew. And its gobsmackingly valuable payload of course.

  Then, all they’d have to do is tow the ship to an interstellar scrapyard and claim the cargo.

  What could possibly go wrong?

  Believe me, you don’t want to know.

  Chapter Six

  Toxic Spew to the rescue

  As the Toxic Spew zipped silently across Galaxy 43b, the bridge crew thought about what they’d do with all the cosmic cash they would have once they’d sold the Techno-tium. They’d be rich!

  ‘I’d buy the new Cygnus 7 single-seater shuttle craft with its revolutionary TripTronic gearing system,’ said Senior Engineering Officer Gizmo longingly.

  ‘Cool,’ nodded Pilot Officer Maxie at the flight controls.

  ‘I’d have a personal 3D pizza printer and unlimited supplies of mozzarella, chocolate, banana custard and chilli sauce,’ said Rubbish Officer Scrummage greedily.

  ‘Oh, gross!’ laughed Maxie. ‘I’d go for a Cassini Personal HeliDroid, with inbuilt VidiScape gaming system, subsonic sound, 3V-360 VisionVisor, multi-player, multi-platform and multi-universe enabled features, downloadable cosmic content capability, pangalactic performance power enhancers and the Stella BonusBox.’ Then, finally stopping to breathe, she added, ‘What about you, Captain?’

  ‘I’d buy Manchester United,’ said Harvey wistfully.

  The bridge crew exchanged puzzled looks and Maxie was just about to ask Harvey what a ‘Manchester United’ was when the computer cut in.

  ‘Oh, don’t ask me then!’ it blurted out emotionally. ‘Don’t bother to include me in the game.’

  ‘Sorry,’ said Harvey, who hadn’t realised the comput
er wanted to join in. ‘Er … what would you like?’

  ‘Not saying,’ snipped the computer:

  a) you’re just being polite

  b) you’re not really interested and

  c) it’s too late.’

  And it bleeped off in a huff.

  Spaceship ahead

  Zooming through outer space at Cosmic Speed 8 the Toxic Spew didn’t take long to get to the broken-down cargo ship.

  Harvey’s eyes were glued to the front vision screen ahead. He had loads of model spaceships and UFOs pinned to his bedroom ceiling back home, but he wanted to see what a real cargo spaceship would actually look like.

  Eventually he saw it looming up ahead. It appeared to be a Day-Glo yellow round, flat disc with a domed middle.

  ‘It’s a flying saucer!’

  ‘Er, no,’ said Gizmo confused. ‘It’s a SupaCosmicCargo ship. Well, technically that bit’s the freight container. The cargo ship itself is a tiny little tug on the other side.’

  It’s hard to get an idea of size in outer space. Because there isn’t anything bobbing around to give you a sense of scale, like say, a Blue Whale or an ice cream van or a small clear plastic ruler.

  Harvey had seen the cargo ship from a distance – about two thousand cosmic kilometres to be precise – and so the cargo freighter looked very small. But as the Toxic Spew flew nearer and nearer he saw it was huge, improbably huge.

  (You might like to know that technically it wasn’t ‘Huge’ – it was ‘Quite Large’.

  For a spaceship to be classed as ‘Huge’ by the Intergalactic Travel and Transport Pact it has to be 500 metres long, 300 metres wide and 100 metres high, and have shops, a skating rink, burger and pizza takeaways and a 3V holo-screen cinema with Q4 sound and three kinds of popcorn.

  The pangalactic holiday cruisers from the Gallobium Galaxy are so massive you have to catch a bus to get from the command bridge to the loo.)

  Maxie hauled back the flight controls, flicked a few switches and set the Toxic Spew to auto-orbit. As they rounded the giant Day-Glo yellow container they could see the SupaCosmicCargo ship itself. It was a tiny little tug, way smaller than the Toxic Spew.

  It might be tiny, but it was the coolest thing Harvey had ever seen.

  Rocket science

  The model spaceships that hung from Harvey’s bedroom ceiling were complicated shapes with lots of sticky out bits and added-on details in an effort to make them look real.

  But this ship was totally smooth on the outside and was basically just a triangle with a point at the front. The two side points of the triangle were bent up at the ends and looked a bit like wings.

  It was completely flat on the underside, but the top was domed and, wrapped around the front and sides at the very top, was a huge vision screen.

  It was sleek, it was simple, it was awesome.

  And also, improbably tiny.

  It didn’t seem possible to Harvey that such a small ship could tow something so vast.

  (But then he’s new to the job so he probably doesn’t understand the laws of friction in space travel. And I bet you don’t either.

  Look, if you don’t like maths you can miss out the next bit. But if everyone on Earth does that, then how will your tiny little planet ever get to grips with interstellar space travel? I’ll make it simple and please at least try to understand:

  Push + Friction = Slow, Slow, Slow … Stop

  Push – Friction = Go, Go, Go … Go

  Now concentrate, because this bit is critical: There is no friction in space. So once you give something a shove, it just keeps on going.

  See – it’s not that tricky, is it? It’s hardly rocket science. Oh hang on, yes it is.)

  Harvey ordered the computer to contact the cargo ship. Actually, he had to ask very nicely since the computer was in such a stroppy mood.

  Intergalactic GarbleTranslate

  ‘Go ahead, Captain,’ said the computer. ‘Ship-to-ship SpaceTime is connected and I have taken the liberty of turning on Intergalactic GarbleTranslate so you can understand each other.’

  ‘Thank you,’ said Harvey calmly, but his mind had suddenly gone a complete blank. He’d never done this before. But of course he didn’t want the crew to know that. What on earth, or rather what in Galaxy 43b, was he actually supposed to say?

  Gizmo gave an embarrassed cough, Scrummage mouthed ‘Come on’ and Maxie rolled her eyes.

  As captain of the All Stars it’d been Harvey’s job to talk to the referee, and sometimes in some pretty awkward situations. And he’d always done pretty well at it – he had a knack of being polite and sticking to the point. So he pulled himself together and said confidently: ‘This is Captain Harvey Drew, Commander of the Intergalactic Garbage Ship the Toxic Spew. How can we help you?’

  Intergalactic garble

  There was a beat of silence then a thin, crisp voice said:

  ‘The SupaCosmicCargo Delivery Company thanks you for your prompt response. Our shields are down and you may transport aboard. Please note this Special Offer ends in five minutes and be advised the SupaCosmicCargo Delivery Company accepts no responsibility for visitors. Terms and conditions apply. Always read the small print.’

  ‘Er, thank you,’ said Harvey.

  Gizmo strode purposefully over to the captain’s chair. ‘Assuming command in your absence, Captain,’ he said pompously.

  Scrummage had left his post at the garbage control desk and was standing by, itching to transport aboard. ‘Well come on, Captain!’

  Standby, Captain!

  ‘Right,’ said Harvey, going to stand next to him. ‘Computer, I’d be grateful if you could transport Officer Scrummage and me onto the SupaCosmicCargo ship.’

  ‘With pleasure!’ replied the computer sweetly.

  ‘Oh please!’ snorted Maxie. ‘Fine captain you’re turning out to be. Can’t even order the ship’s computer around!’

  But Harvey knew the computer could be a bit careless at transporting. So he didn’t want to risk upsetting it.

  There was an irritatingly high whining noise that made Harvey wince and he braced himself.

  SKREEE-E-E-EEEEH!

  ‘Standby, Captain!’ yelled Scrummage above the noise. ‘Oh, by the way, they’re Zinians from the planet X-Zin cum Delta, so for goodness’ sake try not to over-react.’ (Harvey had fainted, actually fainted, the first time he ever saw Yargal. And the astounded crew would never let him forget it.)

  The command bridge of the Toxic Spew wobbled and then sort of melted around them … and they found themselves looking at the command bridge of the SupaCosmicCargo ship.

  But from the outside of the ship!

  ‘AAAAAAAARGH!’ screamed Harvey and Scrummage.

  Chapter Seven

  Oooops!

  Harvey and Scrummage clung onto the massive front vision screen wipers of the SupaCosmicCargo ship for dear life.

  ‘HEEEEEEELP!’ they screamed.

  Harvey’s mind flooded with fear and questions. How were they going to get into the spaceship? How long could they survive without air? And what if the Zinians turned the screen wipers on?

  Fighting back panic he turned to Scrummage and saw his eyes were wide open in terror, but he had clamped his mouth shut. So Harvey shut his mouth and concentrated on keeping the precious air he did have in his lungs er … inside his lungs.

  He forced himself to let go of the wiper with one hand and used it to hammer frantically on the plasti-glass screen. Scrummage copied him.

  THUMP-THUMP-THUMP!

  BANG-BANG-BANG!

  Dying to breathe

  Harvey was desperate to breathe in. He felt his eyes glazing over and he began to see stars (no not real stars, the ones you see when you’re out of oxygen and about to pass out.)

  Through the vision screen they could see two tall, slim Zinians.

  Harvey battled back the urge to shout:

  ‘HELP!’

  knowing that it would be the last word he ever uttered. Keeping his mou
th clamped tight he went:

  ‘MMMMMMMMMMMMMM!’

  and pounded even more feverishly:

  THUMP-THUMP-THUMP-THUMP-THUMP!

  BANG-BANG-BANG-BANG-BANG!

  Finally, the Zinians glanced up. They were slightly surprised to find their visitors on the outside. But they were fully trained interplanetary cargo couriers and nothing shocked them. Within seconds they had efficiently transported Harvey and Scrummage safely inside.

  Phew!

  Harvey crouched doubled-up on the floor, panting hard and suffering the worst stitch cramps ever. Scrummage was collapsed in a heap nearby. Frantically and thankfully they gulped down cool oxygen from the ship’s air conditioning system.

  But since Harvey was match fit it didn’t take him long to recover and start looking around. He was a bit surprised to find they were in a small cool cubicle with gleaming white walls and no obvious door.

  ‘What the … ?’ he started to say, but was cut off when –

  SPLOOOOOOSH!

  He and Scrummage were suddenly and completely drenched head to foot by a powerful jet spray of water – fresh pine, but with a hint of lemon and lime.

  ‘What the … ?’ Harvey tried again, but was cut off again as …

  WHOOOOOOOOSH!

  They were blasted by gale-force hot air. It was like being blow dried by hurricane.

  When they were completely dry it stopped. Scrummage’s uniform, which was usually utterly filthy, was now completely spotless and freshly laundered. And his multicoloured ponytail that usually hung limp and greasy at the back of his balding head, looked immaculate.

  Scrummage took one look at Harvey and burst out laughing. Every strand of Harvey’s bright red curly hair was standing on end. He looked ridiculous.