Monster Moon Read online

  For Jemima Appleton ~ L A C

  For Amberin ~ J D

  CONTENTS

  Title Page

  Dedication

  MEET THE SPACE PENGUINS…

  INTRODUCTION

  1. STIR CRAZY

  2. A FUNNY SORT OF TOOLBOX

  3. CUDDLES

  4. YUM YUM

  5. COUNTDOWN

  6. OH, GUPPY GUTS

  7. NO ESCAPE

  8. ALL TOGETHER NOW

  POSTSCRIPT

  About the Author

  Copyright

  CAPTAIN:

  Captain T. Krill Emperor penguin

  Height: 1.10m

  Looks: yellow ear patches and noble bearing

  Likes: swordfish minus the sword

  Lab tests: showed leadership qualities in fish challenge

  Guaranteed to: keep calm in a crisis

  FIRST MATE (ONCE UPON A TIME):

  Beaky Wader, now known as Dark Wader

  Once Emperor penguin, now part-robot

  Height: 1.22m

  Looks: shiny black armour and evil laugh

  Likes: prawn pizzas and ruling the universe

  Lab tests: cheated at every challenge

  Guaranteed to: cause trouble

  PILOT (WITH NO SENSE OF DIRECTION):

  Rocky Waddle Rockhopper penguin

  Height: 45cm

  Looks: long yellow eyebrows

  Likes: mackerel ice cream

  Lab tests: fastest slider in toboggan challenge

  Guaranteed to: speed through an asteroid belt while reading charts upside down

  SECURITY OFFICER AND HEAD CHEF:

  Fuzz Allgrin Little Blue penguin

  Height: 33cm

  Looks: small with fuzzy blue feathers

  Likes: fish fingers in cream and truffle sauce

  Lab tests: showed creativity and aggression in ice-carving challenge

  Guaranteed to: defend ship, crew and kitchen with his life

  SHIP’S ENGINEER:

  Splash Gordon King penguin

  Height: 95cm

  Looks: orange ears and chest markings

  Likes: squid

  Lab tests: solved ice-cube challenge in under four seconds

  Guaranteed to: fix anything

  CRRRUMP!

  I am ICEcube, on-board guidance computer for a fish-shaped spacecraft named the Tunafish. My brain is very large, but my patience is very thin.

  The Space Penguins have crashed into me twice this morning. Chief Engineer Splash Gordon’s new invention – ride-on Penguin Manoeuvring Units, or PMUs – may be fun, but their brakes don’t work. The ship’s metalwork is dented. The floor is scratched.

  My database says: Ow.

  Ever since the Space Penguins made a dramatic escape from the planet Splurdj and returned twelve small furry PomPoms to their home planet of Azimus Pi in the darkest, most remote corner of the universe, they have been fidgety. Back on Earth they happily did the same thing every day. Fish, toboggan, waddle, sleep. Out here in deep space they have discovered something new.

  Boredom.

  This is what they have been doing to kill time:

  Captain Krill has a new exercise plan. He has waddled up and down the ship so many times that he has worn the floor completely smooth.

  Our pilot Rocky Waddle has flown us straight through dangerous asteroid belts just for fun.

  Chef and Security Officer Fuzz Allgrin has cooked star-whale blubber three hundred and sixty-four ways and clogged up the ventilation shafts with grease.

  And Splash has built four PMUs with bad brakes. He is now test driving one of them on Captain Krill’s newly smoothed floor. It’s an accident waiting to happen.

  CRRRUMP!

  Recalibrating…

  It’s an accident that just happened. Captain Krill’s exercises, Fuzz’s new starw-hale blubber dish, a tricky asteroid-belt move from Rocky and a PMU brake failure have all just come together in one big messy heap.

  Excuse me while I short circuit.

  ZZZPPPFFF.

  Captain Krill lay on his back with a large blob of star-whale blubber pie dripping from the end of his beak.

  “What the curly cuttlefish just happened?” he asked, staring up at the metal rivets on the spaceship’s ceiling.

  Splash climbed off his crashed PMU and stared at the brakes with his flippers on his hips. “Darned if I know. I’ve adjusted the hydraulic pressure on this one at least ten times.”

  “OW-WOW-WOW!” Fuzz roared, hopping up and down while rubbing his feet with his flippers. “You ran over the Captain’s belly, my feet and my star-whale blubber pie, Splash! You are so not getting a Christmas present this year.”

  “It must have happened while I was doing my exercises,” said the Captain, raising his head to gaze at the track marks on his tummy.

  “How are the sit-ups coming along, Captain?” Splash asked.

  “I did one,” said Captain Krill proudly.

  “My fault, sorry,” said Rocky from the flight deck. “A monster asteroid fragment was coming straight towards us. I had to take evasive action.”

  “No blubber pie for dinner, guys,” said Fuzz, still hopping. “Unless you want to lick it off the Captain’s face.”

  “Shame,” said Rocky. “NOT.”

  “Say that again, barnacle brain,” said Fuzz.

  Rocky jumped out of his pilot’s chair with his flippers raised and his eyebrows bristling. “With pleasure.”

  “No fighting on deck,” said Captain Krill from the floor.

  “We all need a change of scene,” said Splash. He helped the Captain to his feet. “ICEcube? Find us a planet where we can stop and stretch our legs.”

  “Mine don’t stretch very far,” said Fuzz.

  ICEcube’s circuits whirred into life.

  “Planet Flogiston. Little known, but sometimes visited by traders for its natural supply of metal, which grows in tree-like forms all over the planet. Surface temperature: seventy-five degrees Celsius, on account of the numerous volcanoes. Journey time: three hours and fifteen minutes.”

  “Anywhere colder?” asked Rocky hopefully. “And maybe less volcanoey?”

  “Planet Bitnipi. Surface temperature: minus two hundred and eighty degrees Celsius. Covered in mountainous permafrost.”

  “Perfect!” exclaimed the Captain.

  “Journey time: thirty-two years, two hundred and two days,” ICEcube continued.

  The penguins groaned.

  “It had better be Flogiston then,” said the Captain.

  “Flogiston is orbited by a small icy moon named Serac,” ICEcube added. “Surface temperature: minus one hundred and three degrees Celsius. Journey time: two hours and forty minutes.”

  “Why didn’t you mention that before?” said Splash.

  “You asked for a planet,” said ICEcube. “Not a moon.”

  “Duh,” said Fuzz.

  “Set the coordinates, Rocky,” said Captain Krill.

  Rocky whooped. “Serac, here we come!”

  Far away, in section L of the universe, a little alien and a large robot were sneaking through the dark streets of the planet Kroesus’s main spaceport. The little alien scuttled along, clattering its claws and swivelling its eyes. Clatter, clatter. Swivel, swivel.

  “We need to get out of here,” whispered Crabba. “I only gave that prison guard a tiny nip with my poisonous claws. He’ll wake up soon, and then the whole of Kroesus will know you’ve escaped.”

  CLANK. CLANK. CLANK.

  The robot behind Crabba was huge. Rusty. Cobwebbed. Unmistakably penguin-shaped.

  “Boss?” said Crabba. “You look like you spent the last three months in a wet jail cell full of argon bugs.”

  Dark Wader’s robot eyes glowed re
d. He flicked a glowing blue bug off his shoulder with a rusty flipper. “I did.”

  “I know,” Crabba sniggered. “It was a joke.”

  “You think three months in a Kroesan jail cell with a lunatic pig-like cellmate is a joke?”

  Crabba cringed. “Bad joke. Bad Crabba.”

  “The guards will barbecue Skyporker for not raising the alarm,” said Dark Wader. He looked thoughtful.

  “Should I have rescued him as well?” asked Crabba.

  “No,” said the pengbot. “Anadin Skyporker has been nothing but trouble since he tagged along with us after the Superchase Space Race. He would just slow us down. I want the Space Penguins, Crabba. Those putrid prawns will pay for what they did to me.”

  “I’ve arranged transport,” said Crabba at once. “We’ll be out of here in two clicks of my claws.”

  They emerged on to a busy street full of soldiers, traders and yellow-skinned Kroesans with lots of arms. Crabba scuttled towards a small ship docked in a bay.

  “Here she is,” he said proudly. “The Sprout.”

  Dark Wader looked at the craft. “It has no landing gear, Crabba.”

  Crabba looked dismayed. “It had landing gear when I left it.”

  “It has no windscreen, either. It has also lost its tailfin, both its wings and its thrusters.”

  Crabba stared at what was left of the Sprout sadly.

  “Shouldn’t have left it there, mate,” said a rasping voice. “Thieves always nick stuff off ships docked there.”

  A purple, bull-like alien was leaning against a sleek golden ship docked beside the remains of the Sprout. He had a ring through his nose and a set of curly horns on his head.

  “Who are you?” Dark Wader demanded.

  “Balderdash Bigbutt. My friends call me… Well, they don’t call me anything because I don’t have any friends. But I do have a ship. She’s called the Lovely Loot.”

  He patted the side of his golden spacecraft. Then he looked at Dark Wader’s red eyes, his rust patches and his cobwebs.

  “I know who you are, by the way,” he said. “There’s a reward for catching you.”

  “Already?” gasped Crabba. The eyes on his claws swivelled madly from side to side, looking for danger.

  “The news is on every screen in town.” Bigbutt pointed a massive thumb at an overhead screen. The words BREAK OUT and ROBOT PENGUIN and REWARD scrolled past in a bright, blinking ribbon of light. “Kroesans don’t like it when their prisoners escape. I could make a fortune just by handing you over.”

  “I’ll pay you more than the reward to get me out of here,” said Dark Wader.

  Bigbutt’s sharp yellow teeth gleamed. “What are you offering?”

  “More than you’ve ever had. And I’ll double it if you track down four Space Penguins and help me get rid of them once and for all.”

  “Penguins?” said Bigbutt. “I eat penguins for breakfast.”

  Dark Wader smiled. “We will work well together. Come, Crabba.”

  Crabba kicked what was left of the Sprout before following his boss aboard the golden ship.

  “Bigbutt?” he muttered. “Bighead, more like.”

  Rocky brought the Tunafish down to land on the icy surface of Serac.

  “Finally,” said Fuzz.

  “I thought ICEcube meant turn right at the shrimp-shaped nebula,” said Rocky, as the penguins unbuckled their seatbelts. “OK?”

  The Space Penguins wriggled into their spacesuits and boots, and waddled out into the chill and dark of the little moon. The ice glistened under their feet, and the distant stars twinkled high above their helmets.

  “It’s perfect,” said Rocky happily.

  Fuzz threw himself at a long, slidy stretch of ice just beside the Tunafish’s doors. He went so fast that the others lost sight of him almost immediately.

  “I just went faster than a sailfish on skates,” Fuzz said through his headset, sounding breathless. “You guys have to try it.”

  Rocky zoomed after Fuzz.

  Captain Krill turned to Splash. “I might have a go myself,” he said.

  “I don’t recommend it, Captain,” said Splash, examining the ice under their feet. “The surface looks smooth, but it is embedded with thousands of razor-sharp ice crystals. It will rip your spacesuit to pieces.”

  There was a crackle on Captain Krill’s headset.

  “Small problem with our spacesuits, Captain,” said Rocky.

  “The ice has ripped them to pieces?” said Captain Krill.

  “How did you know?” said Rocky in surprise.

  “Waddle back to the ship for repairs,” Captain Krill ordered. “You must not damage your suits any further. They keep you alive out here.”

  The two penguins came waddling over the horizon, safe but rather tattered.

  “Hmm,” said Splash, examining the hundreds of tiny rips on the fronts of their suits. “I think I have a solution.”

  He lifted his belly to reveal the egg-shaped toolbox on his moon boots. Setting the box down on the ground, Splash opened it and took out a spray can.

  “While I was making final adjustments to the brakes on the PMUs, I treated the runners with an extra-tough coating.” Splash waved the spray can. “This is not only tough, but resistant to the most extreme temperatures. If I coat your damaged suits with it, it will hold the rips together.”

  “And then we’ll be able to slide around this place completely unharmed?” said Fuzz hopefully.

  “Exactly,” said Splash. “I’ll do it with my suit and the Captain’s too. You never know when an extra-tough coating might come in useful.”

  “You really are a genius,” said Rocky admiringly.

  “It takes several hours to dry,” Splash warned.

  “Change into your spare suits and we’ll play with the PMUs for a while,” suggested Captain Krill.

  The brakes on the PMUs worked much better outside than on board the Tunafish, mainly because there was more room to stop. The coating on the runners made them slide brilliantly. When they got tired of racing them over the ice, the Space Penguins discovered how to pilot the little vehicles by using the jet thrusters in the controller arms to lift off. Splash finished coating the damaged suits and joined in.

  “I’m flying!” shouted Fuzz, zooming around above Captain Krill.

  “I love these things,” said Rocky, flying above Fuzz. “What do these buttons do?”

  He jammed his flippers on the two black buttons set at the facing ends of his vehicle’s controller arms.

  With no warning, Fuzz’s PMU shot upwards and clanged into the base of Rocky’s, where it got stuck. Fuzz was knocked out of his seat at the impact.

  “I’m not flying any more!” cried Fuzz, as he plummeted to the ground.

  The two PMUs were stuck firmly together. Rocky pressed some more buttons, but it was no good. Rocky and both vehicles landed upside down on the ice in a crumpled heap beside Fuzz.

  “Rocky, you tuna brain,” said Splash angrily. “You activated the electromagnets. You’ve wrecked both vehicles!”

  “So much for your extra-tough coating,” sniggered Rocky, climbing out from underneath his broken PMU.

  “Fight!” shouted Fuzz.

  Captain Krill waddled between Rocky and Splash. “I’m sure Rocky is very sorry about wrecking the PMUs,” he said.

  “He doesn’t look it,” Splash complained. He loaded the PMUs back on to the Tunafish and stomped on board.

  Captain Krill noticed that Splash had left his toolbox lying on the ground. It was rocking gently from side to side.

  I wonder what’s in there? the Captain thought. His Ship’s Engineer was in no mood for questions, so he decided not to ask. Instead he picked it up, tucked it under one flipper and followed the others aboard.

  “I have a new star-whale blubber dish to try on you at dinner,” said Fuzz, trying to lighten the atmosphere. He took off his spare spacesuit and hung it up. “It’s quite chewy, but the flavour isn’t as bad as normal.”
r />   “Whoopee,” Splash grumbled.

  “There’s no need to be snarky with Fuzz,” Rocky said. “His food mostly tastes of octopus bum, but he does his best.”

  “Cheers, Rocky,” said Fuzz. “I think.”

  “You left this outside, Splash,” said the Captain, putting Splash’s egg-shaped toolbox down on the side.

  Splash picked it up and waddled wordlessly to the engine room.

  “My flippered friend needs to chill,” said Rocky. “Speaking of which, I’m going to hang out in the freezing-fog room before dinner. Anyone want to join me?”

  They ate dinner in silence. Partly because Splash wouldn’t talk to anyone, and partly because the star-whale blubber was too chewy for conversation.

  As soon as dinner was over, Splash disappeared back into the engine room. Fuzz cleared the table while Captain Krill practised another sit-up. Rocky took his seat at the controls and started plotting a new course through the stars.

  “ICEcube,” he said, “were you serious when you said that Bitnipi place was the nearest penguin-friendly planet?”

  “I do not tell jokes,” said ICEcube. “But my data for this part of the universe is inaccurate. Much of it is uncharted.”

  Captain Krill finished his sit-up and gazed out of the window at the volcanic red planet of Flogiston, not far beyond Serac.

  “According to ICEcube, metal traders occasionally pass this way,” he said. “Put out a call, Rocky, see if you can find a friendly alien to talk to. Nothing beats local advice.”

  Rocky put out a message on the intergalactic web.

  “Advice needed on cold planets in the area. Contact the Tunafish.”

  A screen by Rocky’s head flickered into action almost immediately. A four-eyed pilot grinned at the penguins, showing a mouth full of gold teeth.

  “This is the Clanger, calling the Tunafish,” he said. ‘How much will you pay for this information?”