Galaxy Race

by Lucy Courtenay

  “I hate the Superchase Space Race,” Skyporker complained. “How many entries this year, Baycon?”

  Slyser Baycon was Anadin Skyporker’s General. He was taller than the Emperor, but was good at bending his knees so that they looked the same height. His cousin, Streeki, was the Superchase Space Race Coordinator. His sister, Smoki, ran the Police Force. A lot of General Baycon’s relatives had important jobs on Sossij.

  “Fifty-eight,” said General Baycon.

  “WHAT?” screamed Skyporker.

  “We got rid of lots on their way here,” said General Baycon quickly. “We swilled them with our swill guns and they went home.”

  “Excellent,” said Skyporker, calming down. “So how many have made it past the swill guns? One? Two?”

  “Twenty-one,” said General Baycon. “So far.”

  Anadin Skyporker had a terrible headache from the heavy jewellery that he wore in his butterfly ears. It made him extra bad-tempered.

  “TWENTY-ONE?” he screamed. “Tell them all to GO AWAY, Baycon! The Golden Galaxy Goblet is MINE!”

  The Emperor threw himself to the ground and pounded the floor with his polished trotters in a furious rage.

  “You will win the same as always, Your Imperial Pigness,” General Baycon promised. “Your only real competition this year was the Flashaway – the raceship belonging to Argos Megabux from the planet Speedizoom. We swilled that one in Section F of the universe yesterday. We won’t be seeing Megabux this year. And our Breakfast Banquet will deal with anyone else who squeezes past the swill guns.”

  Anadin Skyporker forgot about his headache. “Good news!” he exclaimed, getting up again. “And you’re sure that poisoning everyone at this Breakfast Banquet will work? Isn’t it easier just to make them crash as normal?”

  “People are getting suspicious about all the crashes,” said General Baycon. “We need a new approach.”

  Skyporker trotted over to the large glass case which stood in the middle of the Imperial balcony. The Golden Galaxy Goblet gleamed through the glass – shiny and huge and very, very golden.

  “Then I’ll win you all over again, dear Golden Galaxy Goblet,” said Skyporker happily. He threw open his little piggy arms. “I love the Superchase Space Race.”

  A bright silver ship suddenly appeared over the Imperial balcony, its silver tentacles trailing along behind it. It landed on the Imperial space-pad at the very top of the tallest palace tower.

  “Dark Wader, of the space station Death Starfish,” announced a Sossij guard at the doors of the Imperial balcony.

  Dark Wader glided in with Crabba on his metal shoulder.

  “Greetings, Your Imperial Sossij-ness,” said Wader. “I am Dark Wader, and this is my assistant, Crabba.”

  Anadin Skyporker’s headache was back. He glared at the huge black pengbot and crabby alien in front of him. “What do you want?”

  “I want to help you win the Superchase Space Race,” said Dark Wader. “Because only I can show you how to beat the Space Penguins.”

  Anadin Skyporker gave a start. “The Space Penguins? Those intergalactic hero birds are entering the Superchase Space Race? I hate heroes. They make my snout twitch. Do you know anything about this, General Baycon?”

  “I believe the Space Penguins fly a rustbucket of a ship called the Tunafish,” said General Baycon. “It’s no match for your own magnificent race craft, the Krakling.”

  “You’re right. The penguins’ normal spaceship is useless,” said Crabba from Dark Wader’s shoulder. “But they aren’t racing the Tunafish. They’re racing a ship by the name of Flashaway.”

  “Impossible!” General Baycon spluttered. “I swilled— er, I know for a fact that the Flashaway isn’t entering the race.”

  They all heard the rumbling sound of engines overhead. A rusty, fish-shaped spacecraft came into view, towing a beautiful swan-like raceship. The word Flashaway gleamed over the Imperial balcony for a moment, before the Tunafish banked gently and headed towards the starting line. The smell of rotten food followed the Flashaway in a stinky cloud.

  “Impossible,” repeated General Baycon faintly.

  Anadin Skyporker could feel the headache of headaches coming on.

  “Go away, Wader,” he said. “I will win the race as usual, without your help. I have a fail-safe plan. Those penguins don’t stand a chance!”

  Dark Wader’s eyes glinted. “Have it your way, Your Imperialness. We’ll talk again when it all goes wrong.”

  “I’m sure I saw a Squid-G fighter on top of that tall tower back there,” said Splash as the Tunafish approached the Superchase Space Race starting line.

  “Only Dark Wader flies Squid-Gs, Splash,” said Fuzz. “And we’re a million light years away from Wader’s space station.”

  “You must be seeing things,” said Captain Krill.

  Rocky steered the Tunafish and the Flashaway into a perfect landing beside a river flowing towards the city centre. They passed other raceships as they taxied along: big shiny golden ones, tiny black disc-shaped ones, red ones and purple ones and blue ones, all with names like Whizzer and Lightning and Gosh I’m Fast.

  No sooner had the Tunafish and the Flashaway stopped, than the pure white raceship was surrounded by admiring race-goers.

  “Wow!”

  “It’s a Speedizoom Megabux Model 12! Smells a bit, doesn’t it?”

  “I didn’t think anyone in the universe could afford one of these!”

  Rocky tossed his eyebrows. “Leave this to me, guys,” he said. “The Rockmeister has everything under control.”

  “The Rockmeister?” said Fuzz as Rocky hopped off the Tunafish and straight into the cheering crowds. “That rockhopper’s getting too big for his flippers. He wants us to leave all the fun and admiration to him? No way, stingray!”

  Splash, Captain Krill and Fuzz jumped out of the Tunafish and stood blinking in the bright Sossij sunlight. Jarring alien rock music blasted their ears. Multi-coloured aliens of different shapes and sizes had already gathered round Rocky, clapping him on the back with arms, legs and other limbs.

  “You have some fine stinky wings there, my friend!”

  “Is it faster than a Megabux Model 11?”

  “This baby is faster than a rocket with a rocket up its bottom,” Rocky boasted.

  “Ooh!” said the crowd. They loved a bit of boasting.

  “Your name and the name of your raceship, please,” said a race marshall.

  “Rocky Waddle and the Flashaway, here to enter the Superchase Space Race,” said Rocky. He smirked. “Sorry – here to win the Superchase Space Race.”

  “Ooh!” said the crowd again.

  Captain Krill tried to get Rocky’s attention, but the rockhopper was enjoying himself too much.

  “He’s signing autographs and the race hasn’t even started!” said Splash.

  “Maybe letting Rocky enter this race was a bad idea,” said Fuzz. “We’re a team, not a one-penguin band.”

  The loudspeakers over the Space Penguins’ heads suddenly stopped pumping out alien rock. A voice crackled out instead.

  “This is your Race Coordinator, Streeki Baycon, speaking. The Racers’ Breakfast Banquet will take place in the Banqueting Hall of the Imperial Palace at precisely nine o’clock this morning. All race pilots are ordered— I mean, invited to attend. Long live His Generous Pigness, Emperor Anadin Skyporker!”

  “Skyporker!” shouted the crowd. “Long live the Emperor!”

  “Rocky!” called Captain Krill as the crowd surged away from the race runway towards the Imperial Palace, taking Rocky with them. “Wait for us!”

  But Rocky was lost in the crowd.

  “At times like this, I wish we could fly,” grumbled Splash. “We need to stay close and keep an eye on him.”

  Captain Krill pointed to the river. “We’ll swim to the Imperial Palace and meet Rocky there.”

  The Space Penguins squeezed through the pressing crowd, right to the edge of the water. Then they jumped in.


  “This is the way to travel!” said Fuzz, swooping in and out of the river with his flippers pressed to his sides and his feet whizzing like bicycle pedals through the gently flowing current. “Who needs roads?”

  Captain Krill was the first to jump out of the water as it flowed beside the golden gates of the Imperial Palace. He brushed the water off his white tummy as the other penguins jumped out and joined him on the river bank.

  “The clock over the palace gates says it’s twenty to nine,” the Captain told the others. “We’re early.”

  The penguins gawped at the great courtyard of the Imperial Palace. It was HUGE. It was also empty, apart from a few piggy-looking Sossij waiters carrying large dishes of food inside.

  “So, where’s this Banqueting Hall, then?” said Fuzz.

  “Follow the waiters,” Splash suggested.

  “You’re a genius, Splash,” said Captain Krill.

  Splash looked modest. “I know.”

  The penguins hopped up the steps and through the mighty front door.

  “Stop,” Captain Krill said suddenly, pulling the others to one side.

  In the hall, a large Sossij guard was sprinkling green powder on each platter of food as the waiters marched inside.

  “Funny-looking salt,” said Fuzz.

  “Salt isn’t green,” said Splash. “That must be poison! I invented something similar to use on my fleas yesterday.”

  “Did it work?” said Fuzz.

  “It killed them all stone dead!” said Splash.

  “So why are they poisoning the food for the Breakfast Banquet?” asked Fuzz.

  “I don’t like the look of this,” said Captain Krill. “Keep following the waiters, crew. And stay out of sight.”

  The corridors of the palace walls were hung with pictures of the Sossij Emperor in heavy gold frames. They all showed him dressed in his Imperial finery, standing on victory podiums and waving the Golden Galaxy Goblet.

  Captain Krill looked thoughtful.

  The penguins came to the bottom of a very long spiral staircase. The Sossij waiters were almost out of sight, right at the top.

  “Start hopping, crew,” said Captain Krill.

  The Imperial staircase went on forever. The penguins reached the top, panting and out of breath.

  “Oh great,” said Fuzz, seeing another staircase, just as long and twisty as the first one, lying ahead of them.

  Suddenly, something came skidding round the bend and came face to face with the Captain.

  “CRABBA!” Captain Krill gasped.

  “PENGUIN!” Crabba gasped back.

  “What are you doing here, crusty-face?” Fuzz demanded.

  “I KNEW I saw a Squid-G!” said Splash. “Wader must be here!”

  The eyes on the ends of Crabba’s claws glinted. “It’s very nice to chat. But now I’m going to bite you with my deadly nippers.”

  SNAP!

  “Don’t let him bite you,” said Splash, dancing out of the way.

  “No kidding, haddock chops,” said Fuzz.

  SNAP! SNAP! The snappy alien came closer.

  “Dark Wader will be very pleased if I can get rid of you lot,” he grinned. “He plans to win the Superchase Space Race, you see. And you’re in the way. But one little nip from my nippers and it’s bye-bye Space Penguins.”

  SNAP! SNAP! SNAP!

  “We’ll never get out of this alive,” Splash cried.

  “Never say never,” said the Captain. “Follow me, crew!”

  SNAP!

  Crabba’s poisonous claws met thin air as Captain Krill leaped upwards, twisting around mid-jump. His white belly hit the smooth silver banister of the Imperial staircase and he started to slide.

  “Corking codfish,” whooped Fuzz, jumping after the Captain. “This looks even more fun than fighting!”

  “No!” roared Crabba as Splash leaped on to the banister, too.

  But there was no way the crabby villain could catch the Space Penguins now. The banister curved and curled, twisting round and round. The penguins shot along, the air whistling over their backs as they got faster … faster … faster … heading for the bottom.

  “Watch out for the knobbly bit!” shouted Splash suddenly. “I noticed it on our way up!”

  “What knobbly bit?” Fuzz shouted back.

  “THAT knobbly bit!” cried Captain Krill.

  A round silver ball loomed at the end of the banister. The Space Penguins were going to smash right into it!

  Captain Krill sprang into the air and somersaulted over the silver ball at the very last moment. Fuzz just scraped over the top. Splash jumped so high that he almost hit the spiky chandelier in the ceiling. All three penguins landed on the thick Imperial carpet with a muffled THUMP.

  They had landed next to a gleaming lift. Next to this was a sign that read: no waiters allowed, and a row of silver buttons.

  Captain Krill reached for the button right at the top, marked Banqueting Hall. “In there,” he ordered. “And watch out for Crabba.”

  “How come we didn’t see this lift first time round?” Fuzz complained.

  The lift rocketed the penguins upwards.

  PING.

  They stepped out into the Banqueting Hall.

  “Those tables look like pig troughs,” said Splash.

  They stared at the hollowed-out tables lining the grand room.

  “The Emperor of Sossij looks like a pig,” Captain Krill said. “He probably eats like one, too.”

  “Do you think the waiters will just tip all the banquet food in together?” asked Fuzz, wrinkling his beak. “Main course and pudding and everything?”

  “The waiters aren’t going to get that far,” said Captain Krill. “No one’s going to be poisoned today.”

  “But how can we stop them?” said Splash.

  Captain Krill smiled. “Let’s play skittles.”

  The first waiters appeared. They were panting with the effort of carrying their shiny platters of food up two massive flights of stairs to the Banqueting Hall. The penguins noticed that the greenish colour of the poisonous sprinkles had faded away.

  The waiters’ eyes widened as they saw the penguins waiting for them on the top step.

  “Hello,” said Captain Krill. “And goodbye.”

  He pushed the first waiter backwards.

  BUMP-BUMP-BUMP-CRASH went the waiter, falling back down the stairs and knocking over a few more waiters on the way.

  “See?” said Captain Krill. “Skittles.”

  “This is my kind of game,” said Fuzz. “Ninja PENGUIN!”

  Fuzz’s flying feet caught two more waiters on their piggy chins. They knocked over twelve more waiters still coming up the stairs. And those twelve knocked over twelve more.

  BANG! CRASH! CRUNCH!

  The Space Penguins karate chopped waiters left, right and centre, sending them flying back down the stairs. Food went everywhere.

  BANG! CRASH! CRUNCH! CRASH! BANGGGG!

  The noise of waiters and plates bouncing down the stairs was tremendous. Finally, the penguins heard the sound of one last big silver plate clonking into someone at the bottom. Then there was silence.

  “I think that was the last of them,” said Splash.

  PING. The lift door opened. A waiter stepped out, carrying his platter nervously over his head.

  “Using the lift?” Fuzz said. “Naughty, naughty.” He chopped the startled waiter at the knees and knocked him to the ground. “That was the last of them.”

  “The Emperor’s going to be madder than a moray eel when he sees this mess,” said Splash.

  “Good,” said Captain Krill. “I don’t like cheats.”

  “Who cheated?” said Fuzz. He looked at the groaning waiter by his feet. “OK, this waiter cheated by taking the lift. But that’s a stupid rule, anyway.”

  “Remember all those pictures of the Emperor posing with the Golden Galaxy Goblet?” said the Captain. “It made me wonder. How does he win the goblet every single year?”


  “By flying really well?” said Fuzz.

  “By cheating!” Splash exclaimed.

  “The Emperor poisoned this food to make sure he’d win the race today,” Captain Krill said. “Thanks to the Space Penguins, this is going to be the first fair Superchase Space Race in a very long time.”

  The Space Penguins whizzed back down the Imperial banisters. By the time they reached the bottom, the Breakfast Banquet-goers had started arriving at the palace.

  “Rocky!” Fuzz shouted, almost cannoning into his rockhopper spacemate. “There you are! You totally HAVE to try these banisters.”

  “Where did you guys go?” Rocky complained. “A pilot needs his team! I’ve been standing around like a black and white lemon for ages.”

  “We’ve been a little busy,” said Captain Krill. “As you can see.”

  “You made this mess?” Rocky gasped, looking at the plates, food and groaning waiters lying scattered on the floor. “Why?”

  “The Emperor poisoned the banquet,” Splash said. “So we wrecked it.”

  “That’s the biggest load of rubbish I’ve ever heard,” Rocky said crossly. “Why would the Emperor do that?”

  “Because he’s a cheat, squid skull,” said Fuzz.

  “You’re just jealous,” Rocky said. “You’re jealous because I’ve been getting all the attention round here.”

  “Take that back!” shouted Fuzz.

  “No!” Rocky yelled. “I was really looking forward to that banquet and you’ve RUINED it!”

  Things were also going badly on the Imperial balcony.

  “WHAT?” Anadin Skyporker’s piggy face was bright red with fury. “ALL of it? ALL the poisoned banquet food? Gone?”

  “I’m afraid so, Your Imperial Pigness,” said General Baycon. “There seems to have been a massive accident on the Imperial staircase.”