Chapter Twenty

Spacewalk!

The exit pod of the Toxic Spew looks like a grubby, short, round tunnel. The plasti-glass window in the door is smeared with finger marks and odd splatters of  …  well, frankly, who knows? Harvey peered in. On the far side he could just make out the large circular door hatch. A jumble of grubby space suits, helmets, boots and backpacks cluttered the floor. It looked like the Highford All Stars changing room after a really rough match.

Gizmo slid open the airlock and Harvey followed him in. Then it swooooshed closed behind them.

(Can you imagine how Harvey felt about doing his first spacewalk? He was ‘over the moon’ [actually, he really was over the moon. Over the moon and about 3.7 gazillion light years away, to the left])

Harvey could hear his heart pounding in his ears. But he forced himself to watch carefully as Gizmo clambered into his silver space suit. Harvey had no idea how to put one on, but he didn’t want Gizmo to know that.

The Toxic Spew is kitted out with Super Economy Space Suits. They’re all the same size: Large (or in Harvey’s case: Much Too Large). They have built-in gloves and sealed boots to make them airtight.

It’s absolutely vital to put the life support pack on properly. Basically, there are two crucial hoses. The oxygen one goes into the helmet, and the other one (for poos and wees) goes  …  er  …  somewhere else.

Whatever you do, you don’t want to get these two pipes muddled up.

Once they’d scrambled into their space suits, they clipped on their lifelines.

(Since you’re from Earth – and I promise that’s the last time I’m going to mention it – I should probably explain that a ‘lifeline’ is just a posh space word for a long bit of old nylon rope. You tie one end onto your belt and the other onto the ship. Not very technical, I know, but probably the most important piece of an astronaut’s kit.)

The absolute nothingness of outer space

Gizmo checked to make sure both lifelines were firmly attached, then he opened the exit hatch and they stepped out of the spaceship into  …  nothing  …  the absolute nothingness that is outer space. Airless and silent and empty – except for a million stars and planets stretching out endlessly, and of course, one tatty little intergalactic garbage ship, which was comfortingly near.

For Harvey it was  … 

MINDBLOWING!

And also embarrassing. Moving about was much harder than he’d expected. He thought it would be like swimming, where you push or pull yourself through the water. But in space there’s nothing to push against, so you just float there waving your arms and legs, and looking ridiculous.

Gizmo was confidently pulling himself along the side of the Toxic Spew by hanging onto any sticky-out bits. It’s a risky tactic. Some of the sticky-out bits were so battered and wobbly they might well have broken off.

Harvey couldn’t get the hang of it. His legs caught in his lifeline so he let go of the ship to sort them out, and immediately started somersaulting backwards.

He heard Gizmo’s voice through his helmet radio.

‘Are you all right, Captain?’

‘Yes, fine, thank you,’ said Harvey, who was by now completely upside down and hopelessly tangled.

‘Only, you seem to be having a bit of trouble,’ continued Gizmo. He helped Harvey roll the right way up and then gently shoved him back to the ship.

‘It’s best to hold on, Captain.’

‘Of course,’ replied Harvey, grabbing onto some sort of metal thingy on the side of the Toxic Spew.

They hauled themselves round to the huge metal case of the left-hand engine. They could easily see the chunk of metal jammed into the side. But they couldn’t reach it.

(You would think, wouldn’t you, that people who build spaceships would make sure the lifeline cables are long enough to reach all the really useful bits on the outside of the ship? Well, they don’t.

On the Toxic Spew the cables are about two metres shorter than the distance from the exit pod to the left-hand engine. Worrying, isn’t it? It was for Harvey and Gizmo.)

Stretched to breaking point

Meanwhile, Maxie and the others sat anxiously on the command bridge. They couldn’t see Gizmo and Harvey so they didn’t have a clue what was happening. Maxie nervously chewed her nails and Yargal sucked noisily on one of her tentacles.

‘Do you have to do that?’ snapped Scrummage.

‘Yes we do!’ said Maxie. ‘If it bothers you, then perhaps you can go somewhere else. You know, like outside  …  with the others.’

‘You should be out there helping Gizmo,’ said Yargal. ‘Not the Captain. It was your fault.’

‘No it wasn’t!’

‘Don’t start,’ snapped Maxie, whose nerves were stretched to breaking point. ‘I’m going to radio them. Bridge to Gizmo, can you hear me?’

There was no reply.

(Look, I don’t want to make a big drama out of this moment – don’t worry, nothing bad had happened. It was just that Harvey and Gizmo were too busy having a massive row to hear her.)

‘Are you crazy?’ cried Gizmo.

‘Only for about a minute! Just as long as it takes me to get to that bit of metal and give it a shove.’

‘No! It’s rule one of the Intergalactic Travel and Transport Pact rules and regulations regarding repairs outside a spaceship. NEVER UNCLIP YOUR LIFELINE.’

‘Do you have a better idea?’

‘Er  …  no.’

‘Well, then,’ said Harvey, unclipping his lifeline and handing it to Gizmo. ‘Don’t worry, I’ll be fine.’

Gizmo watched Harvey haul himself towards the engine. ‘Just don’t let go of the ship, Captain!’ he said.

For goodness sake, I’m not that stupid! thought Harvey.

Harvey edged his way round and, clinging onto the side of the engine casing with one hand, jiggled the lump of metal with the other. It was quite loose. It just needed a good hard shove.

So Harvey gave it a good hard shove – with both hands.

Which was a mistake. A big mistake. Actually, it was  …  the biggest mistake of his life.

Because the metal chunk broke away much more easily than he’d expected  …  and Harvey plummeted after it! He made a frantic grab for the ship, but too late, and his fingers closed on  …  nothing!

‘Gizmo! Help!’

Gizmo kicked against the ship and launched himself as hard as he could towards Harvey, but he could only go as far as his lifeline would let him. Desperately, they lunged for each other’s outstretched hands  …  but missed – by about half a centimetre  … 

 …  and Harvey floated off into space.

‘Captain!’ cried Gizmo. ‘Captain!’