Chapter Two

No brawling on the bridge!

Harvey leapt out of his seat and jumped in between Scrummage and Gizmo before they started slugging it out with their bare fists.

It might be helpful if I mention that although Harvey doesn’t have much experience as a spaceship captain (almost none in fact) he was captain of the Highford All Stars football team back home on Earth for two seasons running.

Obviously, his teammates weren’t anything like as stroppy as the crew of the Toxic Spew. And he hadn’t actually had to face many literally deadly dangerous and fatally lethal situations on the pitch (like poisonous killer maggots, a multiple spacecraft pile-up and exploding garbage). But he’s a quick learner.

And, of course, the crew think the Highford All Stars is a spaceship. And he hasn’t quite got round to telling them it’s actually a football team.

(Look, I don’t want to give you the wrong idea about Harvey. He’s not deliberately lying. It’s just that tactically there hasn’t been a good moment to  …  er  …  fess up.)

‘No brawling on the bridge,’ ordered Harvey, pushing Scrummage and Gizmo apart. ‘And, Maxie, what kind of behaviour is that, encouraging a fight?’

‘Spoilsport,’ said Maxie.

‘He started it!’ said Scrummage, prodding his finger at Gizmo.

‘No you did!’

‘Pack it in!’ ordered Harvey.

‘“Pack it in!”? What kind of order is that? From a spaceship commander?’ laughed Maxie.

Harvey sighed. She never missed a chance to get a dig in. Maxie wasn’t much older than him, or much bigger. She had to roll the sleeves and legs of her uniform up to stop them flapping around. But she was a brilliant pilot. And she didn’t like being bossed around by anyone. Let alone an eleven-year-old boy from a planet they’d never even heard of and couldn’t even find on a 3D digital star map.

Fortunately for Harvey, the crew were suddenly distracted.

Rocket Fuel Special

SCHWOOOSH!

The doors to the bridge opened and Medical Officer Yargal slurped onto the bridge, her three yellow eyes waggling on their stalks. She oozed across the deck, like a large green slug, her huge single slimy foot trailing sticky grey slime in its wake. A pile of pizza boxes and drinks cartons slithered around alarmingly in her six slippery blue tentacles. Strings of gunk dribbled down onto the boxes making them soggy.

(The one snag of having a Yargillian as Medical Officer and Ship’s Cook is that the constant dribbling and oozing can put you off your lunch. Yargillians are one of the most revolting life forms in the entire Known Universe, and Beyond – but it isn’t polite to mention it, obviously.)

Snuffles, the ship’s dog, lolloped behind her, looking like a cross between a hungry Grey Wolf and an even hungrier Great White Shark – vast, shaggy, slobbery and utterly terrifying.

‘Lunch!’ cried Yargal.

Everyone grabbed the boxes greedily. Snuffles settled himself at Harvey’s feet, dribbling hopefully. Strings of saliva slobbered off his massive teeth and dripped onto the grimy deck.

DRIBBLE, DRIBBLE! DROOL, DROOL!

‘Do we have to have a Hazard Hunting Hound from Canine Major on the bridge at lunchtime?’ challenged Maxie.

Since nobody ever cleaned anything up on the Toxic Spew, Harvey had thought they might as well let the dog slobber up some of the muck. Of course the bridge wasn’t exactly spotless – but it was better than it had been. You could actually see the floor in places.

So he ignored Maxie, and patted Snuffles on the head, who gave him a friendly nudge with his raw meatball of a nose. He really was a lovely hound, once you got over: your fear, his teeth  …  and the drool.

Harvey opened his pizza box and froze in horror.

‘It’s my Rocket Fuel Special,’ boasted Yargal. ‘Pilchards in pineapple jelly with molten mozzarella and extra hot spicy sauce with a secret ingredient!’ She winked at Harvey with the middle one of her three yellow waggly eyes.

Harvey had got used to the Yargillian’s repulsive looks. But he would never get used to her repulsive pizza ‘Specials’. This one was topped with an alarming lime green sauce, which probably glowed in the dark.

‘Er  …  could I just have a plain cheese and tomato one?’ he said, remembering the crunchy deep-pan ones his mum used to buy and how he dunked the crusts in a dollop of ketchup and mayo mixed. He sighed. The crew had promised they would get him home one day and to the exact same time and place he’d left, so that technically his family wouldn’t miss him at all. But that didn’t stop him missing his family.

Molten mozzarella!

‘Oh, come on, Captain,’ spat Scrummage with his mouthful of food. ‘Be adventurous!’ Greedily he tore off another slice of his cheese, chocolate banana custard and chilli sauce pizza and rammed it in his mouth. A large blob of greasy gooey mozzarella slid down between the switches on the garbage desk in front of him.

‘Mind the controls!’ snapped Gizmo.

‘Don’t fuss!’ snorted Scrummage, prodding at the blob of molten cheese with his grubby fingers and shoving it down between the switches. ‘It’s only the smallest mini, micro, milli-atom of molten mozzarella.’

There was a nasty buzzing sound,

BZZZZ BZZ BZZZZZZ FFZZZZZ

exactly as if some electrical wires were touching each other when they shouldn’t be, and then:

KA-BOOM!

WHOOOOMPH!

There was a small explosion and a shower of sparks as the garbage control panel caught fire.