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SKYTREK - CHAPTER 9 (standard:humor, 3831 words) [9/15] show all parts
Author: Danny MiamiAdded: May 20 2010Views/Reads: 2229/1699Part vote: 0.00 (0 votes)
Chapter 9 of the comedy adventure novel.
 



Click here to read the first 75 lines of the story

“Ah yes, Upside Down Cakes,” agreed Olaf, turning back to the crowds.
“Yes the Upside Down cake reminds me of life every time I eat one,” he 
continued. “I mean if you imagine the sponge of the Upside Down Cake as 
the sort of stodge, the sort of mundane things we all have to go 
through each day, then the fruit represents the more interesting 
exciting things we all have to look forward to.” 

“Like your next Upside Down Cake,” muttered Butch and it was the
Captain's turn to snigger. 

Olaf broke off and the band waited. They'd been fooled once before and
weren't for rushing into anything. The Conductor watched Olaf closely 
for a few moments then relaxed. He smiled and turned to his musicians 
and raised his baton however just as he was about to wave them into the 
opening bars... 

“So if I could just extend our warmest upside down, I mean warmest
welcome to our Federation friends,” Olaf bumbled on, “and ask them 
to...ask them to...” He stopped again, getting his notes mixed up. “Ah 
yes, ask them to send that black-haired majorette in the yellow 
mini-skirt round to my office after the show. What!?! I think this must 
be yours, Deputy,” he said, passing the sheet of paper to him. 

His Deputy pulled at his collar and looking distinctly embarrassed, took
the sheet and quickly shoved it into a pocket. 

“So without any more ado, I'd like to present this little welcoming show
of ours,” Olaf finished and sat down. 

“Thank God for that,” muttered the Captain. 

Olaf signalled to the band but the Conductor had lost interest by this
time and it took a few tugs on his jacket from one of his musicians 
before he finally got the message and raised his baton. 

Playing a stirring military tune, the band marched across the square,
leading the circus entertainers who were to provide the first part of 
the show – jugglers, clowns, acrobats, horseback riders, elephants and 
caged tigers all paraded in front of the VIP platform and were cheered 
by the crowd. 

When the band reached the opposite side of the square they stopped
playing and began forming up again in front of three rusting tanks 
which were to do a drive past in the second part of the show. 

In the square the entertainment got under way: the jugglers tossed their
lighted clubs in intricate patterns; the clowns chased each other in 
and out of the crowd; the elephants were coaxed onto their knees by 
their handlers and the tigers prowled around in criss-crossing tunnels. 


High above the laughing, cheering crowds, two balloonists waved from
their baskets and showered the square with sparkling confetti. 

“You know, this is going pretty well for Clumzy,” Butch whispered to the
Captain as they watched the show. 

The Captain smiled at him. “Give it time,” he muttered confidently.
“Just give it time.” 

Shortly afterwards he was proved correct. 

Like a lot of disasters, this one began simply enough. Attracted by the
noisy colourful spectacle, Zall materialised unnoticed at the edge of 
the crowd. He watched the show awhile then unable to resist the 
temptation, he groped the rear of an attractive woman who was standing 
in front of him. 

“You filthy swine!” she screamed at the man next to her, thinking he was
the culprit and slapped him across the face. 

Taken by surprise the man staggered sideways and in a domino effect
knocked down several other people. 

The last person to fall knocked over a passing trifle seller and as he
went down his trifles went flying through the air. One of them 
splattered on to the face of the band Conductor and automatically he 
raised his hands to wipe the mess away. 

Thinking he was raising his baton, the band started up and the
Conductor, thinking he'd missed his cue again quickly wiped the trifle 
from his face and led them out into the square. 

“That's our signal,” the lead tank commander said to his driver, hearing
the music. “Let's go.” 

The tank trundled forward after the band closely followed by the other
two. In the square the circus show was only half-way through and the 
performers, totally engrossed in their acts, were oblivious to what was 
approaching. 

“Here it comes!” muttered the Captain with relish, seeing the advancing
band and tanks. 

Chewing on an unlit cigar, Butch nodded agreement. “Looks like it could
be a beauty!” he muttered back, grinning. 

First to go was the eight man acrobatic troupe. The marching band
ploughed into their pyramid, knocking them to the ground and trampling 
over them and two members became intimate with the lead tank's rusting 
metal tracks. 

“On to the other tank, boys!” shouted the leader, undeterred by the
catastrophe. 

Three of the troupe leapt on to the second tank and were standing on
each others shoulders when the commander opened his turret. 

“What the hell's all that noise?” he asked, throwing the hatch back and
sending the depleted troupe into the path of the third tank. 

Still playing away, the band panicked the elephants who reacted in a way
that was perfectly understandable under the circumstances – they 
emptied their bowels. 

Unfortunately the contents landed on a couple of clowns who had been
threatening to throw buckets of tiny fish over the spectators. 

“Shit!!” the clowns yelled in unison and their threat became reality and
the contents of the buckets were thrown. 

Tiny wriggling fish landed in the crowd and found their way into
people's hair, down women's cleavages and into children's open mouths. 
Panic erupted, with the women screaming, the children yelling and 
people tearing at their hair and clothes. 

“Oh dear! Oh dear!” said Olaf as he watched his welcoming show
disintegrating. “Things don't seem to be going as planned, do they?” 

“Never mind,” Butch said consolingly. “Have an Upside Down Cake.” 

In the square the tanks now fanned out as planned and two of them
crushed the tiger tunnels allowing several highly aggressive animals 
their long sought freedom. They dived into the crowd, roaring and 
growling and ripping at anything within reach. 

One of them pounced on a juggler and his burning clubs went flying
wildly, setting fire to bunting and flags and some of the wooden 
spectator platforms. “I think you'd better call the Fire Brigade,” the 
Captain suggested to Olaf. 

Olaf shrugged resignedly. “There's no point,” he said. “They're all in
the band.” 

In the square another of the tigers attacked an elephant which, in its
desperation to escape, charged around trumpeting wildly and trampling 
anyone who got in its way. 

“Let's stop that elephant,” the lead tank commander said to his gunner.
“Fire as soon as you get him in your sights.” 

The gunner took aim and fired but the shot missed and exploded against a
nearby building, causing an entire side of it to collapse and sending 
dust and smoke drifting across the square. 

“Demolition our speciality!” said Butch, watching an adjacent building
begin to collapse as well. 

Enraged by being fired at, the elephant attacked the tank and tried to
topple it. The gunner fired again but the shot flew into the air and 
burst both the hot air balloons which were floating not too high above 
them. 

The baskets and their screaming occupants plummeted earthwards. Straight
for the VIP platform. 

“Beam me back, Jocky!” yelled Butch as he and the Captain dived out of
the way. 

“Oh shit!” muttered Olaf, looking up. “Help!” he yelled as he struggled
to his feet. “Help! Help! Aaarrgghh!!” 

He didn't make it. 

One of the baskets landed smack on top of the awning, plunged through
into the platform and the entire flimsy structure collapsed, leaving 
Olaf and the balloonists groaning somewhere underneath it. 

The square was now a heaving, screaming, yelling, panicking confusion of
men, women, children, animals, tanks, collapsing buildings and raging 
fires. 

The Captain and Butch had escaped to the safety of a side street and
they surveyed the fabulous disaster of the welcoming show. 

“I think I'd rather face aggressive Klingers than friendly Clumzies,”
the Captain remarked philosophically to a grinning, cigar chewing 
Butch. 

“Agreed,” said Butch. “You know what really pisses me off though?” 

“What's that?” asked the Captain. 

“We'll never get a friggin Upside Down Cake now!” 

PART TWO 

From his hospital bed where he was now lying with two broken arms, Olaf
issued orders to provide the Captain and Butch with a guide to lead 
them to the site of the co-ordinates from the Krystals. 

Not wishing to risk or even witness any more accidents they skirted the
town and headed out into the country. After a mile the Captain 
re-checked his co-ordinates on a small direction scanner and they 
seemed to be leading to a dilapidated cottage which nestled at the foot 
of some gently sloping hills a short distance in front of them. 

The guide left and the Captain and Butch surveyed the scene. Night was
beginning to fall and the cottage lay in eerie gathering twilight. 

“Kharg or the Klingers could be in there,” the Captain whispered as they
peered out from behind some bushes. 

Butch drew his pearl-handled laser pistols and clicked them on. “I'll
handle this!” he announced, squaring his shoulders and puffing out his 
chest. 

Using all available cover he cautiously approached the cottage, flitting
from tree to tree and boulder to boulder. He made it without being 
fired at and tiptoed onto the small veranda then flattened himself 
against the wall next to the door. 

After a careful check that they weren't in danger of being annihilated
by laser fire, he signalled the Captain who approached cautiously and 
flattened himself on the other side of the door. 

“We go in on ‘three'!” Butch hissed. “Ready?” 

The Captain nodded and checked his laser pistol. 

“One,” whispered Butch, “two...three...go!” 

He leapt out, pistols in front of him and the Captain knocked on the
door. Butch stared at him in disbelief. “Not like that!” he hissed 
angrily. “Like this!” He kicked the door open and dived in, sweeping 
the room with his lasers but it was empty. 

The Captain joined him and they were making a quick search when they
heard some noise from above. Cautiously, they tiptoed up some rickety 
stairs and along a short dingy passage until they were outside a room 
door then flattened themselves on either side of it again. 

“I'll do it this time!” whispered Butch. He mouthed ‘One, two, three,'
to himself then burst in, lasers up and sweeping. 

“Are you the doctor?” Stella's mother asked from the bed. “It's me
bowels. I haven't had a good--” 

But the Captain and Butch had already gone. They quickly descended the
stairs and continued their search, discovering another room at the back 
of the cottage where the door was slightly ajar. 

Butch crept forward and peered in and grinned at what he saw – a huffing
and puffing Silas was engaged in things with his blonde beauty that he 
hadn't engaged in with Stella for a long time. 

Butch tiptoed over to the bed and stuck a laser pistol at the side of
Silas's head. “Freeze Casanova!” he ordered. “Hold it right there!” 

“He is!” the blonde said, giggling. 

“Off!” ordered Butch. 

“Couldn't you give me a couple of minutes?” pleaded Silas. 

Butch brought his second laser pistol up to the other side of his head. 

“Perhaps not,” Silas conceded and heaved himself round to a sitting
position. “What can I do for you gentlemen?” he asked, mopping at some 
sweat on his brow. 

Quickly the Captain told him about Kharg and the co-ordinates from the
Krystals and asked if he'd had any visitors. Silas told him what had 
happened and how the Klingers went after the Sphere, followed by Kharg. 


“So the Klingers are ahead of Kharg,” mused the Captain. 

Silas nodded. “By about half an hour I'd say,” Silas told him. 

“Hey Captain!” Butch called. “Take a look at this.” 

The Captain strolled over and joined him. Butch had lit another candle
and had looked round the room and found the large hole in the floor. 

“What's that?” he asked, pointing at the bottom of the hole. 

The Captain crouched down and had a look. “Something's glittering,” he
said. “Is this where the Sphere came from?” he asked Silas. 

“The very spot,” Silas replied. 

“I wonder if it's traces from the Sphere? Can you reach it?” he asked
Butch. Butch laid one of his pistols aside and knelt down. He stretched 
his arm into the hole and groped around. When he straightened up there 
were tiny gold particles all over his fingers. 

“What colour was the Sphere?” the Captain asked Silas. 

“Gold,” the Sorcerer replied. 

“These particles could be from it then,” said Butch. 

The Captain nodded. “Let's take some samples and get them back to the
Orion for analysis.” 

Butch tore off a strip from the bed sheet and collected more of the gold
particles then carefully wiped his fingers on the strip. 

The Captain flicked open his Transceiver. “Captain to bridge,” he said
into it. 

“Yes sir?” replied Lieutenant Youhoor. 

“Stand by to beam us back,” the Captain instructed. “Tell Dr Malloy
we're bringing some samples with us. I want an immediate analysis on 
them.” 

“Understood,” said Youhoor. “Activating Transporter.” 

Silas breathed a sigh of relief when the Captain and Butch vanished. He
lay back on the bed but just as he was about to take up where he'd left 
off, a constant thump, thump, thump on the ceiling interrupted him. 

“Oh bloody hell!” he cursed, sitting up again. “Now what?” 

The thumping continued. 

Muttering away to himself, Silas threw on a robe and got out of bed. He
rummaged in a drawer and brought out a large wooden mallet. Glancing up 
at the ceiling he smacked the mallet into his palm a few times and 
grinned. 

“I'll just take Mother up a sleeping tablet,” he said to the blonde.
“Shan't be long.” 

PART THREE 

Ahead of Kharg and the Orion, the Klinger Mother Ship was cruising along
behind the Sphere. They had followed it away from Clumzy and it had 
headed deep into space, General Draygo watching it all the time on his 
forward observation screen. 

The Sphere had travelled at the equivalent of Warped Speed for over an
hour then it began to slow down, indicating that it might be nearing 
its destination. 

“Reduce speed and keep us the same distance behind the Sphere,” Draygo
ordered his Helmsman then strode over to the Navigator's console. 
“Where's it heading if it maintains its present course?” he asked. 

The Navigator had been plotting the Sphere's journey across space and he
fed in his latest figures then glanced at Draygo, thick eyebrows raised 
in surprise. He stood up and tapped an area on his monitor. “My God!” 
he said. “It's heading towards a Black Hole!” 

The General's thick eyebrows also shot up. “A Black Hole!? Are you
sure?” 

“Positive,” replied the Navigator. “If you retrace the Sphere's course,
it's been heading towards the Hole ever since it left Clumzy.” 

“The Sphere has halted!” announced the Helmsman. 

Draygo glanced over at the observation screen. “How far is it from the
Hole?” 

“Fifty space miles.” 

“That puts it right on the edge of the Hole's gravity field,” the
Navigator told him. 

“Then it looks as if it's going in,” said Draygo. 

“Why?” asked the Navigator. “If it gets anywhere near the surface it'll
get sucked in and destroyed.” 

As they watched, the Sphere began moving around the edge of the Hole's
gravity field as if lining itself up then moved back half a space mile 
and stopped again. 

“Take a note of its exact position,” Draygo ordered the Navigator. “And
I mean exact.” 

He strode back over to his chair, slipped into it and watched the screen
closely. Suddenly the Sphere shot forwards at high speed and entered 
the Hole's gravity field. 

“Keep us here,” Draygo ordered the Helmsman. 

The Sphere was now racing towards the Hole's surface, a bright gold
meteor shooting into the blackness below. Its speed increased as it 
continued on its unchanged course and flames began licking around it 
and fanned out behind in a spiky tail. There was a brief orange glow 
when it crashed onto the surface of the Hole followed by a muffled 
explosion. Then nothing. 

“Look's as if it has exploded,” his First Officer remarked. 

Draygo wasn't convinced. “Give me a close-up on where it hit,” he
ordered. 

The view on the observation screen telescoped forward until the Hole's
undulating surface filled the screen. At the spot where the Sphere 
vanished there was an area which was lighter than the surrounding 
blackness. 

“Close in on that light area,” Draygo ordered. 

At the maximum telescopic view they could see the light area stretching
back a short distance into the Hole. 

“A corridor!” exclaimed Draygo, studying the screen. “And a damn big
one. That's where the Sphere went.” 

“Do we follow it?” the First Officer asked. 

“There's a ship approaching!” announced the Helmsman. 

“Kharg!” said Draygo, a grin spreading over his ugly face. “Activate the
Cloak and take us half a space mile to the side,” he ordered the 
Helmsman. “Let's see what Kharg does before we make a move.” 

PART FOUR 

CAPTAIN'S LOG : STARDATE 503.94 Dr Malloy's analysis of the samples from
the Sphere which we brought back from Clumzy showed traces of a 
substance called Hercurium. Hercurium remains static in space for 
several hours and the Sphere left enough in its wake for us to follow 
it, using our Element Tracker. Kharg is still ahead of us and since he 
has now freed the Sphere, he is well on his way towards possession of 
the mysterious substance which will allow him to destroy Earth and then 
dominate the Universe. We are all that stands between him and the 
fulfilment of his plans. Somehow we have to find a way to stop him. 

PART FIVE 

Kharg's ship warily approached the Black Hole. Like the Orion he was
following the Sphere by the minute traces of Hercurium and when he saw 
where the trail led, he ordered Giraffe to cut their speed and let them 
drift up to near the edge of the Hole's gravity field. 

“Is the Klinger Mother Ship around?” Kharg asked Giraffe. 

Giraffe checked his scanners. “Nope,” he replied. “Nobody here except
us.” 

Kharg's eyes narrowed suspiciously. “Where are they?” he hissed, staring
at the forward observation screen. “Have they gone in ahead of us?” 

Giraffe meantime had tracked the Hercurium right down to the Hole's
surface. “I have the exact spot where the Sphere entered the Hole,” he 
said. 

“Bring it closer,” Kharg ordered. 

The telescoped view on the screen showed the same lighter area Draygo
had seen earlier. 

“The corridor!” rasped Kharg. “That's where the Sphere entered. We can
follow it through the Hole. Take us in.” 

With the Mother Ship invisible under its Cloak, Draygo was watching
events on his screen. He saw Kharg's ship line up then increase speed 
and enter the Hole's gravity field then shoot towards the black surface 
like a burning arrow. 

When it reached the spot where the Sphere had vanished there was a
brilliant yellow flash then it too disappeared. A search of the 
surrounding undulating surface revealed no wreckage, confirming 
Draygo's suspicion about the corridor. 

“Do we go in now?” asked his First Officer. 

“Give them fifteen minutes then we follow,” replied a grinning Draygo. 


   



This is part 9 of a total of 15 parts.
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