Boom!

16 The big knobbly stick

Vantresillion strode down the corridor with us jogging behind him. He was carrying the button box and we were wearing the wristbands so there was no point in running away.

“Hey,” said Charlie. “Look on the bright side. We’re going home.”

“Except we’ll only be there for five minutes, then we’ll be dead.”

“No,” said Charlie. “Then I’ll be dead. You get another five minutes.”

“Brilliant. That makes me feel a lot better.”

“You never know,” said Charlie. “Brigadier-General Doo-Dah might actually believe us.”

“No one ever believes us,” I said. “About anything.”

“In here,” said Vantresillion. “Snekkit.”

A door opened in the wall and we found ourselves in the large white hangar where I’d first arrived. The white ceiling twenty metres over our heads. The high windows with the starscape outside. Just as before, Pearce, Kidd and Hepplewhite were sitting at the long table in their violet robes.

“Tidnol,” said Vantresillion. “Basky dark.”

“Crispen hooter mont,” said Mrs Pearce, standing up. She walked over to us. “Well, well, well. You turn out to be useful after all. Now that is a surprise.”

“Always willing to help,” said Charlie.

“Get into the Weff-Beam unit,” said Vantresillion. “And remember. Five minutes. Charles is dead. Ten minutes. James is dead. Then I get bored very, very quickly.”

He shoved us towards the tubular cubby hole. “Inside. Both of you.”

“It’s going to be a bit of a squash,” said Charlie.

“Getting squashed is the least of your problems,” said Vantresillion.

I stepped inside. Charlie stepped in beside me. Vantresillion pushed. Then he pushed a bit harder. Then he said, “Snekkit,” and the curved door slid shut behind us.

“Fasten seatbelts,” said Charlie, his face pressed against my ear. “Cabin doors to automatic.”

“So what’s the plan?” I asked.

“Absolutely no idea,” said Charlie. “If we’re really lucky, a paratrooper might kill us with a bazooka as soon as we come out of the ground.”

Then we heard the boom! and it was like being hit in the head with a cricket bat. I covered my ears with my hands and every atom in my body started vibrating. My clothes were soaked in sweat and I felt horribly seasick. Charlie must have felt seasick too, because he was actually sick down my back and it smelled really bad.

The atoms in my body stopped vibrating and the nausea started to fade. Charlie said, “Sorry about that,” and the word ZARVOIT flashed across the little screen beside my head. There was a short bing-bong like a doorbell, the roof of the tube slid back and we began to rise upwards.

Sunlight. I could see actual sunlight. We rose a little further and I could see the tops of the mountains. And grass. Real grass.

And then I saw a crazed figure standing above us, with matted hair and mad, staring eyes and a huge knobbly stick in its hands. It yelled like Tarzan of the Apes and swung the stick and whacked Charlie. He screamed and rolled sideways into the grass, holding his shoulder.

Then the crazed figure with the matted hair and the mad, staring eyes and the huge knobbly stick said, “Jimbo!” and I realized that it was Becky.

“Don’t hit me!” I shouted.

“You’re back!” shouted Becky. She grabbed me and hugged me, just like I’d done when I found Charlie in the dining hall. And I grabbed her and hugged her back. I don’t think I’d ever been more pleased to see her.

“Baby brother!” she said.

“You waited for us,” I said.

“Of course I waited,” said Becky. “What was I going to do? Go home and get killed by Mum and Dad for losing you? But where in God’s name have you been? And why is your back covered in sick?”

Then I remembered. “I’ll explain everything later. We’ve got to stop the planet being blown up.”

“What!?” said Becky.

I looked around. “Why aren’t the army or the police here?”

“What the hell are you talking about?” said Becky. “Now just calm down and tell me what happened to you.”

Vantresillion’s voice appeared in my head. “How are we doing, James? Three minutes to go. I’m tapping my fingers. Are you speaking with the person in charge?”

I touched my wristband. “Er. Yeah. I’m speaking with the person in charge right now. We’re going to sort something out. Very soon.” I took my fingers off the wristband.

“Who are you talking to?” asked Becky.

Charlie got to his feet. “That really hurt.”

“Sorry,” said Becky. “I thought you were one of them.”

“Becky. Wow. It’s you,” said Charlie. “I didn’t recognize you with the cave-woman disguise.”

I turned to Becky. “What do you mean, one of them?”

“That big blue light goes on,” said Becky. “There’s a boom! I wander over and whack them over the head. Then I tie them up behind that big rock over there. Where are they all coming from?”

“Ah,” said Charlie. “You’re the reason they’ve lost contact. Brilliant. Super-intelligent alien civilization foiled by a girl with a stick.”

“Charlie,” I said. “Shut up. We haven’t got much time.”

“Oh yeah,” said Charlie. “I forgot. I’m still feeling a bit shaken. You know, on account of being assaulted.”

“There’s no police,” I said. “There’s no army. What the hell are we going to do?”

Vantresillion’s voice was in my head again. “Two minutes to go. I’m getting twitchy here.”

Charlie was walking round in little circles, squeezing his head. “OK. Think…Think…Think…”

“You haven’t answered my question,” said Becky.

“Which question?” I said.

“Where in God’s name have you been? I’ve been stuck here for six days living off loch water and Quality Street.”

“Six days?” I said.

“Yes,” said Becky. “Six days.”

“That’s funny,” I said. “I thought we were only gone for a day. Something must have gone a bit strange with space-time.”

Becky grabbed me by the shoulders and shouted, “Where in God’s name have you been?”

I took a deep breath. “Plonk. It’s in the Sagittarius Dwarf Elliptical Galaxy. It’s seventy thousand light years from the centre of the Milky Way. In the direction of the Large Magellanic Cloud.”

Becky shook her head. “We have to get you to a doctor.”

“One minute to go,” said Vantresillion.

“Becky,” I said. “Listen. This is important. It is very possible that, in about fifty seconds, Charlie is going to, like, explode.”

Becky stared at me with her mouth hanging open.

“Five minutes after that I’m going to explode too. So I just wanted to say that I love you. And don’t stand too close to me. And a few minutes later…well, it’s probably best not to think about that bit.”

“Thirty seconds…” said Vantresillion.

I walked over to Charlie and said, “You’re the best friend ever. You know that, don’t you? And I sort of love you too. But not in a girly way.”

“Shut up!” said Charlie.

“Oh, OK, then,” I said huffily.

Charlie touched his wristband. “Mr Vantresillion…?”

I pressed my own wristband to listen in.

“Yes?” snapped Vantresillion.

There was a pause. “We have a problem. There’s a policeman here.”

“And why is that a problem?”

“Because, I guess, if he sees two boys explode he’ll go away and fetch more policemen,” said Charlie.

“Where are the Watchers?” hissed Vantresillion.

“He has absolutely no idea, I’m afraid.”

“What the hell is going on?” asked Becky.

I clapped a hand over her mouth.

“Don’t let the policeman get away,” hissed Vantresillion.

“Nnnnnnggg,” said Becky, trying to tear my hand away.

“How are we meant to do that?” asked Charlie.

“I don’t know,” spluttered Vantresillion. “Just…just…put him into the Weff-Beam unit.”

“He’s a very large policeman,” said Charlie.

“Fenting nard!” said Vantresillion. “Get your friend to stand next to him so I can blow them up together.”

“I don’t think Jimbo wants to do that,” said Charlie.

“Fenting, fenting, fenting nard!” said Vantresillion. “Don’t move. I’m sending someone down. And when they’ve dealt with the very large policeman you are going to be toast! Do you understand?”

“Absolutely,” said Charlie and took his fingers off the wristband. He turned to Becky. “Time for you to get your big stick.”

I took my hand off Becky’s mouth and she said, “Would you kindly tell me what is going on? And why is there an imaginary policeman? And who the hell are you talking to?”

But Charlie didn’t get a chance to explain because the blinding blue light was pouring out of the sky. Then there was an ear-splitting boom! and the light went off and Becky picked up her big knobbly stick and ran over to the ruined cottage and lifted the stick over her head. The cover slid sideways and Mrs Pearce’s head emerged from the hole and Becky hit it really hard with the stick and Mrs Pearce squealed and rolled sideways and lay face-down on the earth, completely unconscious.

“Oh my God,” said Becky. “I’ve just hit a really old lady over the head.”

“Actually,” said Charlie, “that’s Mrs Pearce.”

“My God,” said Becky. “I’ve just hit your history teacher over the head.”

I bent down and started lifting Mrs Pearce’s skirt. “This will make you feel better.”

“What the hell are you doing, Jimbo?” said Becky.

“I need to show you something.”

“You sick and twisted little boy,” said Becky. “No way am I looking at a teacher’s bottom.”

And there it was. Coming out of a neat little hole in the back of Mrs Pearce’s knickers. A bit like a long hairy parsnip. The tail.

“Jeez,” said Charlie. “That is going to be burned into my memory, like, for ever.”

“Becky,” I said. “Open your eyes.”

“No.”

“Open your eyes.”

“No.”

“Open your eyes.”

Becky opened her eyes and looked down and screamed. Then everything was lit up by a bright blue light and the mountains rang with the deafening boom! — except we didn’t take much notice because we were all so freaked out by Mrs Pearce’s tail. And then we heard someone say, “Little human scum!” and we spun round to see Vantresillion rising out of the Weff-Beam tube.

Becky ran towards him and lifted the big knobbly stick and swung it, but he was too quick. He grabbed the end and yanked it out of Becky’s hands.

“Narking frotter!” he yelled, his eyes sparking with blue light. “I am toasting you now.” He reached for his wristband.

“Stop him!” shouted Charlie.

But Becky had already whipped a can of L’Oreal extra-strength hairspray from her back pocket and squirted him in the eyes. He screamed and raised his hands to his face and fell to the ground.

“The wristband,” I said and stamped on Vantresillion’s arm while Charlie yanked it off and flung it as hard as he could. We stood and watched it sail through the air until it plopped into the water next to the little boat moored to the rocks.

Vantresillion said, “Aaeeaaeeaaeeaargh!”

And Charlie said, “Jimbo, your sister is one feisty chick.”

“I’m assuming that’s a compliment,” said Becky.

“Yeah,” said Charlie. “But when Vantresillion doesn’t check in, someone is going to press that button and we’re going to explode, so we have to do something spectacular in the next minute.”

Vantresillion got to his feet and staggered around blindly, trying to find us and strangle us.

“Petrol,” I shouted. “There’s petrol in the boat. We set light to the Weff-Beam thing. We blow it up.”

We ran down to the water’s edge and tried to lift the outboard motor off the stern but it was too heavy.

“Forget that,” said Becky, holding a red plastic fuel can. “This is what we need.”

We ran back up the grassy slope to the ruined cottage.

“It’s closing!” shouted Charlie. “Quick!”

I grabbed the broken knobbly stick and shoved it into the hole. It splintered and cracked. Charlie and Becky staggered over with a rock and jammed it into the gap. The mechanism squeezed and juddered and gave off a lot of evil brown smoke.

Becky screwed the black top off the red plastic can and poured the contents into the Weff-Beam unit. “Now,” she said. “Let’s set light to it.”

“How?”

Becky paused for a moment. Then she said a really, really rude word. “We haven’t got a lighter!”

The mechanism juddered and smoked and the rock cracked into two pieces.

“Craterface’s lighter!” I searched madly through the pockets. The cigarettes, the wallet, the oily fluff…and the lighter.

I threw myself to the ground and shoved my arm down past the lid.

“Stop, you moron!” shouted Charlie. “You’ll blow yourself to pieces!”

He ripped off his shirt and shoved the sleeve into the mouth of the petrol can, then pulled it out and set light to it. The rock finally shattered, Charlie shoved the flaming shirt through the last inch of shrinking gap and shouted, “Run!”

We ran and hurled ourselves to the ground and waited. And waited. And absolutely nothing happened. Except for Vantresillion wandering into the ruined cottage, moaning, with his arms stretched out in front of him, clawing the air like a lost zombie.

He was standing in the very centre of the cottage when the blue light flashed on. He screamed again, but much, much louder this time. Then he vanished inside the column of light and we couldn’t hear him screaming any more. Then the light went off and the boom! shook the mountains and we saw that Vantresillion had been turned into a smoking black statue of himself. One arm fell off and smashed on the ground. Then the head did the same thing.

“It didn’t work!” said Charlie. “It didn’t—”

And then, suddenly, it did work. There was a shuddering whump! and the Weff-Beam unit and the cottage and the black statue of Vantresillion erupted in a massive cauliflower of orange flame. We closed our eyes and covered our heads. The heat wave hit us and it was like being run over by a really hot lorry.

We opened our eyes. There was an ominous silence for about two seconds, then a horrible clatter as broken pieces of highly advanced technology rained down around us. I looked up and rolled out of the way just in time to prevent myself being kebabbed by a long spear of ceramic tube-wall.

We got up and picked bits of ash and shrapnel off our clothing and walked back towards the ruin. Except it wasn’t there any more. There was a black crater. There was a ring of charred stones. There were some wires. There was a triangle of cracked blue glass.

I heard a little click and felt my wristband loosen and fall to the ground. I heard another little click and saw Charlie’s wristband do the same.

He bent down and picked them up. “You know,” he said. “Just to be on the safe side.” He drew back his arm and hurled them into the water.

And this was when we saw Mrs Pearce. She’d finally come round and got to her feet. She had her fingers pressed to her own wristband. “Gretnoid,” she said. “Nutwall venka berdang.” She pressed it again. “Gretnoid. Nutwall venka berdang.” Her voice was getting more and more panicky. “Gretnoid…? Gretnoid…?”

Charlie walked up to her. “You’ve lost all contact with Plonk, haven’t you?”

She growled at him.

“Brilliant,” said Charlie. “I’m kind of assuming they can’t blow us up now. Or the planet. Is that right?”

“You’re going to suffer for this. I am going to make you all suffer so very, very much.”

“How?” said Charlie.

She paused for a few moments, then she slumped to the ground and started to cry. “Oh God,” she wailed. “I’m going to be stuck on your stupid, primitive, godforsaken planet for ever.”

“Anyway,” said Becky, “we’re off now. There are five of your friends tied up over there. Behind the big boulder. They’re going to need a bit of help.”

We walked back to the tent. The five Watchers were tied up nearby. I recognized two of them from the red Volvo. They were all a bit snarly at first. Then Charlie explained that the Weff-Beam had been destroyed and that they wouldn’t be going home. After this they went a bit quiet. A couple of them cried, just like Mrs Pearce.

Becky dug around in the holdall and found a spare shirt for Charlie. We packed up and headed back down to the water. Mrs Pearce was still on her hands and knees, crying, when we walked past her.

“Cheerio!” said Charlie.

She looked up at him and whimpered like a sad dog.

We climbed into the boat and lowered the outboard into the water. Becky yanked the starter cord three times and the engine coughed into life and we puttered down the little channel to the sea.