Chapter Five

Chaos on the bridge

They couldn’t believe their luck. In all their multiple intergalactic missions, the Bin Men of the Toxic Spew had never, ever found any Techno-tium. Not even a tiny little nanocrumb.

‘Yahoooo!’ they cried.

Harvey was stunned to see the entire bridge crew whooping and cheering and leaping up and down.

(I don’t like to be rude, but you don’t have anything nearly as advanced as Techno-tium on your funny little planet, do you?

It’s the strongest metal in the entire Known Universe, and Beyond. It’s bendier than rubber, stretchier than elastic and lighter than air. Imagine a large solid lump of metal, floating like a helium-filled balloon.

Of course it does tend to drift off far, far away into outer space, which can be tricky if you’re holding onto a large chunk of it and you’ve forgotten to tie it down.

Particularly since you won’t ever want to let go of it because  …  it’s also the most valuable metal in the entire Known Universe, and Beyond.)

After a few minutes of mayhem and madness, the crew calmed down enough to notice that Harvey was sitting in the tatty black captain’s chair utterly bewildered.

Hmmm, tricky sums

‘Captain,’ said Gizmo. ‘May I remind you of the Intergalactic Travel and Transport Pact rules and regulations regarding rescuing cargo ships?

‘Er  …  yes please,’ said Harvey, who had absolutely no idea what they were.

‘Basically, if we rescue a cargo freighter, we get the cargo as our fee!’

‘Multicoloured upchuck!’ cried Scrummage, his turquoise eyes shining with greed. ‘We’re rich!’

‘How much is the cargo worth?’ asked Harvey.

‘No idea,’ grinned Scrummage, rubbing his hands greedily.

So Harvey asked the computer.

‘Hmmm,’ it said importantly. ‘Tricky.’

‘It depends on:

a) how much Techno-tium there is

b) how many zeros there are in a gazillion

and

c) where that funny little decimal dot goes.’

Its lights flickered furiously. ‘But I’m pretty sure that a nanocrumb of pure Techno-tium is worth – ooh lots!’

‘Thank you,’ said Harvey, with a hint of sarcasm.

‘My pleasure,’ said the computer brightly and bleeped off.

‘Who cares exactly what it’s worth!’ spluttered Scrummage. ‘It’ll be a fortune!’

‘Come on, Captain, let’s go!’ cried Maxie, sitting poised at the flight control desk waiting for Harvey’s orders.

Hmmm, tricky questions

But Harvey was wary. He hadn’t known his Chief Rubbish Officer very long, but he knew he could be reckless. And that he’d happily load all sorts of horrendously hazardous garbage onto the Toxic Spew, if it were worth enough cosmic cash. So he grilled his Rubbish Officer closely.

‘Is it dangerous?’

‘Nope.’

‘Poisonous?’

‘Nope.’

‘Illegal?’

‘Nope.’

‘Explosive?’

‘Nope.’

‘Is it repulsive, disgusting, revolting, rotting, putrid or in any way likely to make the entire crew vomit themselves to death?’

‘Nope! It’s not even smelly. Just very, very valuable.’

‘So what are we waiting for, Captain?’ Maxie drummed her fingers on the flight desk. ‘If we don’t get going someone else will there first and snaffle it.

‘And we’ll miss out the chance of a lifetime and have to spend the rest of our pitiful lives on the Toxic Spew collecting endless amounts of repulsive rubbish until we all die a hideous death by a catching a fatal dose of Festering Garbage Pox!’

Hmmm, tricky decision

‘Maxie’s right, Captain,’ said Gizmo. ‘And may I point out that if we get a cargo of Techno-tium we’ll be rich enough to stop garbage collection and concentrate on looking for your planet Earth and get you home.’

Harvey hadn’t thought of that. But now that Gizmo mentioned it, he had to admit that although he was having the greatest adventure in the galaxy, he was really beginning to miss home, his mates, his mum and dad, and football – especially football.

‘OK, fine,’ he said. ‘Computer, tell the SupaCosmicCargo ship we’re on our way and plot a course for the Gamma thingy whatsit Belt.’

‘Did I hear a please?’ snipped the computer.

‘OK, please!’ said Harvey. Blimey, the computer was in a really stroppy mood today.

Eagerly Maxie slid the flight joysticks forward to Cosmic Speed 8 and Harvey felt the familiar

LURCH

as he was flung backwards in his seat as the little intergalactic garbage ship hurtled forward into hyperspace. Then he felt the familiar

THWACK

as the back of his head slapped against the metal headrest of his seat.

The planets and stars on the vast vision screens on all three sides of the bridge seemed to shimmer and then whoosh backwards as the ship zoomed off through the cosmos.

The gobsmacking awesomeness of outer space

Harvey sat back to enjoy the ride. He was never, ever going to get used to the thrill of space flight – not even if he lived to be a hundred and six. It was  … 

AMAZING

ASTONISHING

and

ASTOUNDING!

(You might be interested to know that although Galaxy 43b is a fairly scruffy corner of the universe, some bits are actually quite stunning.

But then again you might not be. In which case you can just skip the next bit.)

The four moons of the Bebinca Flummery Belt are particularly spectacular. They constantly shimmer and change from bright blue through turquoise to pale green and back again.

ZOOM  … 

The Toxic Spew rocketed past them so quickly they didn’t even have time to change from green back to turquoise.

WHIZZ  … 

It zipped around the massive deep purple planet PannaCotta with its seven swirling bands of orange toxic gas. And then  … 

WHOOOSH  … 

It shot through the dazzlingly bright multicoloured shooting stars of the Semolina Cluster.

It’s like flying through an enormous firework display, thought Harvey, gobsmacked. This is  …  OUT OF THIS WORLD!

(And of course he’s right. Well, it’s out of your world anyhow. In fact, come to think of it, it’s out of your Galaxy!)

So the Toxic Spew bravely raced to the rescue of the SupaCosmicCargo craft and its crew. And its gobsmackingly valuable payload of course.

Then, all they’d have to do is tow the ship to an interstellar scrapyard and claim the cargo.

What could possibly go wrong?

Believe me, you don’t want to know.