Slowly but menacingly, the Intergalactic Traffic Officer walked over to Harvey sitting in the captain’s chair and gave him a hard stare. Without taking his eyes off Harvey, he unclipped a digipad from his belt. He managed to make it a very threatening move.
‘Zippit,’ he growled.
‘I haven’t said anything,’ said Harvey calmly.
‘No, I’m Zippit. Police Officer Zippit to you. Is this your ship then, sonny?’
Harvey wasn’t going to let this man scare him. He stood up, flicked his curly red fringe off his face, looked him straight in the eye and answered coolly: ‘Yes. I’m Harvey Drew, Captain of the Toxic Spew.’
‘SNORT! HUR … HUR … HUR!!’
Both officers exploded with laughter.
‘You’re the new captain of the Toxic Spew! They must be desperate!’
‘HUR … HUR … HUR!’
‘Where did they find you?’
Maxie shot Harvey a warning look but he ignored her.
‘Earth,’ said Harvey and the crew gasped softly.
‘Where?!’ Police Officer Zippit pushed his face right into Harvey’s. Harvey could smell what he’d had for lunch (a garlic and apricot jam pizza followed by a mackerel and caramel doughnut. No wonder Harvey could smell it. Thank goodness he didn’t have to taste it too).
‘I’m from Earth,’ said Harvey trying not to breathe in too deeply. ‘It’s a small planet in a galaxy called the Milky Way … ’
‘Never heard of it,’ Zippit butted in rudely, still eyeballing Harvey.
Harvey stared him out. ‘Just because you’ve never heard of it, doesn’t mean it doesn’t exist,’ he said. And the crew gasped again, but loudly this time.
(I’m sorry to keep mentioning it, but since you’re from Earth you probably don’t know that getting clever with the Intergalactic Traffic Police, isn’t very … er … clever. Neither did Harvey.)
‘Now listen, “Captain”. If you’re from a planet we’ve never heard of, then that makes you a new type of alien. And if you’re a new type of alien then we might just have to take you away and do a lot of very painful experiments on you to see what sort of new type of alien you are.’
Harvey didn’t even flinch – he carried on the staring contest. This wrong-footed Zippit. He wasn’t used to people standing up to him. Then a new thought struck him.
‘Wait a minute … There’s no such place as planet Earth … you made that up!’ His turquoise eyes narrowed suspiciously. ‘What’s going on? You’re up to something aren’t you?’ He turned to his mountainous mate. ‘Officer Org, look up the Toxic Spew on the Pangalactic Criminal Records Database, and check for any traffic offences, wilful wrongdoings and downright dodgy dealings.’
Slowly, and with some difficulty, the enormous officer prodded his digipad with his outsized fingers.
It took less than a nano-second to access all the records of the Toxic Spew. Which was remarkable really, because it was a very long list.
Traffic Police Officer Org read it out, very slowly. Reading wasn’t his best skill.
(If you don’t like lists you can just skip on … I haven’t put the whole list in anyway – it’s much too long.)
• Parking in an orbit zone
• Flying without lights
• Flying without brakes
• Not having a space tax disc
• Jumping a red light
• Carrying toxic waste without a licence.
Harvey was gobsmacked. The crew cringed as the list went on … and on … There were forty-seven fines to be paid.
If you added them all up they were worth more than the Toxic Spew itself. But then that’s not surprising. A party-sized pizza order would probably be worth almost as much as the Toxic Spew, especially if you had it with chips, dips and a drink.
‘Which one of you is the Rubbish Officer?’ demanded Zippit.
‘They’re probably all rubbish!’ snorted Officer Org, sniggering childishly at his own joke.
Scrummage was far too nervous to point out he was actually the Chief Rubbish Officer. He stood up weakly. ‘I am.’
‘Well, I think we should have a little look in the garbage hold. Make sure you’re not doing anything … dodgy.’
Scrummage gulped, and the rest of the crew looked petrified.
But Harvey stepped boldly forward. ‘Fine,’ he said. ‘Follow me.’
‘Multicoloured upchuck!’ spluttered Scrummage softly.