The Shobble Secret (The Shocking Trouble on the Planet of Shobble) Page 8
She spoke up in a clear voice. 'Katie Hobbs has been taken hostage by the Commander-in-Chief.'
There was a gasp of horror from the crowd.
'But Enrico wouldn't do such a terrible thing,' said the woman with the cake. 'Especially not to a lovely hairity.' She looked at the others. 'Would he?'
A camera flashed and a microphone was shoved in Nicola's face. An intense-looking woman said, 'What's your name?'
'Nicola Berry.'
'Nicola, why has Katie Hobbs been taken hostage?'
Nicola decided she shouldn't reveal any more. 'You'll have to ask Enrico that. I have no further comment.'
She tapped her feather-whip against her ShobGobble as briskly as she dared. 'We have to go!'
'Wait, wait!' called the reporter breathlessly, running alongside Nicola's ShobGobble. As she ran, the breeze lifted the hair on her forehead and Nicola caught a glimpse of the letter 't' - a Topaz supporter! She pushed a card into Nicola's hand. 'Contact me if you ever want to talk.'
Nicola managed to shove the card into her jeans pocket. She twisted her head and saw that her announcement had created something of an uproar. People were gesturing angrily, stamping their feet and raising their palms high above their heads.
She hoped she hadn't made a terrible mistake and put Katie in more danger.
Her ShobGobble cantered along smoothly ahead of the others, as if he knew where he was going. Nicola squinted her eyes through the rainbows and saw another sign.
24 VALLEY OF HIGH HOPES
'That's right! That's where we're going,' she said out loud. She realised she hadn't named her ShobGobble yet. She said, 'Well done, um, Shobby!'
Her ShobGobble flattened his ears and gave a disapproving snort.
'Oh, you don't like that. Let me think of something better. What about . . . Gobby Boy?'
He gave an even louder snort.
'Okay, okay, I guess they're all a bit too cutesy. What about Sky-Glider?'
The ShobGobble wobbled his head and made a rumbling sort of sound as if to say, 'So-so.'
'I know! What about . . . Quicksilver?'
He gave a long definite chirp of approval.
'Okay, Quicksilver, that's your name. It's very nice to meet you, Quicksilver.'
They were now headed across a vast snowy white plain. Nicola was glad that signs for the Valley of High Hopes kept appearing at regular intervals.
She turned to check on the others. Shimlara had her head close to her ShobGobble's ear as if she was deep in conversation. Sean seemed to be trying to encourage his to rise up on its hind legs, as if he was doing a wheelie on a bike, but his ShobGobble was studiously ignoring his efforts. Tyler already looked like he'd been riding ShobGobbles all his life. At the end of the line was Greta. She was sitting very straight and stiff in her saddle, but at least she was moving in the right direction.
Nicola turned back to the front and Quicksilver tossed his head as if to say, 'Look!'
They were passing a village. A crowd of dirty-faced children came running when they heard the sound of hooves. This time Nicola looked closely at them and saw their clothes were threadbare and their bare feet were turning blue in the snow. Nicola thought of the crackling fires and hot baths at Enrico's mansion. No wonder Topaz thought these children's parents should be paid for their hard work!
She noticed that the ground was beginning to slope downwards and snow-laden trees were starting to appear. The next sign they passed said:
5 VALLEY OF HIGH HOPES
The ground became even steeper and Nicola had to lean further and further back in her saddle to avoid falling off. She could hear little shrieks of horror from Greta.
A few minutes later they came to an arched sign that read:
YOU ARE ABOUT TO ENTER THE VALLEY OF HIGH HOPES
We HOPE you enjoy your visit!
We HOPE you do not leave behind your litter!
We HOPE you enjoy the flowers but do not pick them!
'Those numbers on the signs meant the number of minutes it takes to get somewhere,' said Tyler, looking with satisfaction at his watch. He scratched his head. 'Although how do they know how fast you're travelling?'
'I just thought of something.' Sean looked very serious.
'What?' Nicola's heart sank at the thought of yet another problem.
'We never had breakfast.'
Nicola rolled her eyes. 'We'll find somewhere with indigo berries for the ShobGobbles and we'll have brunch.'
'What's brunch?' asked Shimlara. Sometimes they all forgot she came from another planet.
'It's like a mixture of breakfast and lunch,' said Greta in a superior tone. 'You have it mid-morning.'
'Oh! You mean lunfast,' said Shimlara. 'I always ask the Telepathy Chef for a scrambled egg sandwich.'
'Stop talking about food,' groaned Sean.
'Hamburgers,' said Tyler conversationally. 'Hot dogs. Pizza. Ice-cream.'
'Aaaaggggh!' Sean clutched his stomach. 'Starving . . . dying . . . need food.'
'Come on,' said Nicola. 'The sooner we get going, the sooner we eat.'
'Do you think the ground is going to stay steep?' asked Greta.
'It is a valley,' pointed out Shimlara. 'It will go down and then up again.'
'Just lean back in your saddle,' advised Nicola.
'Hmmmph.' Greta looked unconvinced.
Nicola gave Quicksilver a gentle pat and led the way under the arch.
It was like entering a different world. The light from the rainbows was now filtered through a canopy of trees. Instead of dramatic shafts of colour, Nicola could see quivering patches of red, blue and green light, as if someone had gone crazy with a paintbrush. It was very quiet and peaceful, except for the occasional soft 'thud' as a pile of snow slipped from a tree branch. The clean mossy smell of forests and rivers filled their nostrils.
As Shimlara had pointed out, they were heading down towards the bottom of the valley, but there was a wide paved path to follow, so riding was easy.
The weight of worry vanished from Nicola's shoulders. She felt as light and bouncy as a balloon. Anything seemed possible. They would find Topaz and work out a way to overthrow Enrico and rescue Katie. Nicola would win first prize in the Inter-School Story Competition (even though she'd never actually got around to entering), and she would be picked out by a talent scout for a starring role in a television series (even though she was a pretty hopeless actress) and she would most definitely be picked for the next Olympic Games (even though she wasn't especially sporty). Yes! She couldn't wait to see how many medals she would win!
'Guess what, Nic!' Shimlara called out from behind her. 'I just realised I'm going to win every single race at the Intergalactic Athletics Carnival next week! It's true I haven't been training much but I've got so much natural ability!'
Sean came trotting up to ride alongside Nicola. 'Just thought you should know I'm going to be a black belt by Christmas, so don't mess with me.'
Mmmmm, thought Nicola. Sean had only just got his blue belt in karate. It seemed like there might be something in the air in the Valley of High Hopes.
She could hear Tyler and Greta talking behind her.
'I'm expecting a letter from NASA waiting for me when I get back to Earth,' said Tyler cheerfully. 'They'll be offering me a part-time job after school as an astronaut. So I'll be able to give up that boring paper run.'
'Well, I was just thinking that when I get back to Earth I might start a "Most Popular Student in the School" competition,' said Greta. 'I'd win it for sure.'
Nicola snorted. Maybe this should be called the Valley of Impossibly High Hopes.
Although did that mean her own hopes were impossible?
No! Her hopes were sensible and realistic!
As they followed the path further down into the valley, the vegetation became thicker and the light dimmed. The snow gleamed as if sprinkled with thousands of tiny crystals. Every now and then there was a startling splash of brilliant colour from where the rainbow ligh
t had crept through. The Space Brigade fell silent. The only sound was the clip-clopping of their ShobGobbles' hooves.
An hour passed.
Another hour passed.
'Chirrrp!' said Quicksilver. Nicola started. She felt like she'd been in a trance. She looked around and saw that they'd come to a clearing next to a bubbling creek. A huge pool of indigo light shone on a corner of the clearing and Nicola could see thousands of purple berries - just like the ones Silent Fred had drawn for them. Quicksilver smacked his lips.
'Yes,' said Nicola. 'Indigo berries.'
There was also a huge mossy log that looked like it would make a comfortable seat, lying next to the remains of a campfire. It was the perfect spot for brunch - or lunfast.
'Time for a break,' announced Nicola, pulling on Quicksilver's reins.
Nicola saw the rest of the Space Brigade stretching and rubbing their eyes as they climbed down from their ShobGobbles.
'I feel like I'm in the middle of a beautiful dream,' said Shimlara. Nicola knew exactly what she meant.
They led their ShobGobbles over to the creek and the patch of indigo berries. The ShobGobbles took long slurps of water before hungrily attacking the berries.
'I hope we didn't wait too long before feeding them,' said Nicola worriedly. 'If Katie was here she would have thought of it sooner.'
'I think we've taken too long feeding ourselves,' said Sean, rapidly pulling out Joy's provisions from the saddlebags. 'I can't believe I forgot I was hungry. That never happens to me.'
Suddenly Nicola was starving too. She found a big checked picnic blanket in her own saddlebag and spread it out next to the log.
'I hope it's not too much weird stuff like last night,' said Sean.
'Well, it looks sort of normal,' said Tyler, as he unpeeled the lid of a large silver container. Steam rushed out. He held up something shaped like a miniature rainbow and covered in flaky pastry. 'Who wants to try it?'
'I will!' Nicola bit into one. The filling was like nothing she could describe. It was like crunching into a crisp apple at the same time as biting into a piece of chewy caramel. 'I don't know exactly what it is, but it tastes great.'
'Probably better not to know,' said Sean, grabbing one.
Shimlara opened another container to reveal thick jam sandwiches on crusty white bread - at least they looked familiar. There were also biscuits, cheese sticks, gigantic muffins, strange-looking fruit and bottles labelled INDIGO BERRY JUICE.
'Are you sure that's not for the animals?' asked Greta distastefully.
'Who cares?' said Sean. 'It's good!'
Of course, best of all, there were also dozens of ShobbleChoc bars and two thermoses filled with the creamy hot chocolate they'd had the day before.
While they were busy laying out the food, Greta efficiently started a fire. (It was one of her useful skills, they'd discovered on their last mission. She had learned how to do it in Girl Guides.)
Soon they were all sitting comfortably on the rug, enjoying the warmth of the fire, their mouths so crammed with food they could hardly talk.
A croaky voice that seemed to come from nowhere made them all jump.
'Is that hot chocolate I can smell?'
19
Everyone looked around nervously.
'I don't mind you using my kitchen,' continued the voice. 'But you could at least offer me something warm to drink. I haven't had a hot drink in twenty-three years.'
'Is it that shrub talking?' whispered Shimlara. She pointed at a short, stout snow-encrusted shrub in the corner of their clearing.
Nicola gasped as it started walking towards them. Talking, walking plants!
'Would you look at all your faces!' the shrub said. 'Am I really so old I've started looking like greenery?'
And suddenly it wasn't a shrub at all.
It was a very, very, very old Shobbling man.
He seemed to be dressed in a long coat with an ancient black scarf around his neck, but he was covered in such a thick layer of snow you could hardly tell his clothes were clothes. Even his eyelashes were white with snow. He was hunched over, leaning on a stick, and his face was a mass of wrinkles like a withered old apple.
'My name is Horatio Banks,' he said. 'And it looks to me like I'm about to meet my first Earthlings. How interesting! Just when I thought life might have stopped being interesting, it gets interesting again. You know, I've always been fascinated by your planet, although I've never had the privilege of visiting.' His eyes fell on Shimlara. 'But if I'm not mistaken, you seem a little tall to be an Earthling. Let me guess - a Globagaskarian, am I right? I once travelled there for business. A very get-up-and-go sort of planet.'
'We like to think so,' said Shimlara.
'I'm sorry if we've taken your campsite - I mean, kitchen,' said Nicola. 'Is this where you live?' She hoped the poor man didn't have to sleep in the snow.
Horatio settled himself comfortably on the mossy log. 'This has been my home for the last thirty years,' he said. 'This log is my armchair during the day and it doubles up nicely as a bed at night. A few newspapers make lovely crispy blankets.'
Everyone winced.
'Have a hot drink,' said Sean, pouring him a cup.
'And a hot pastry,' added Tyler. 'Actually have two. Have three!'
Horatio looked amused as the boys fussed about him like grandmas.
'We're the Space Brigade,' said Nicola, and introduced each of them.
'It's a pleasure to meet you all,' said Horatio. 'Mmmm, I'd quite forgotten the glorious sensation of eating and drinking hot food.' He took a long sip of his hot chocolate, smacked his lips and said, 'And tell me, what are you all doing in the Valley of High Hopes?'
'We're on our way -' began Nicola. 'We're here because -'
She hesitated, remembering Joy's warning that Enrico's spies would be everywhere. There was too much snow crusted on Horatio's head to see if he had the little 't' mark that meant he was a Topaz supporter. Then again, it seemed like he'd been living in this valley for so long he might not even know that Topaz existed.
'We're on a mission for the Commander-in-Chief of Shobble,' she said carefully.
'Ah, and who might that be?' asked Horatio. 'I'm a few decades behind on my current affairs.'
'His name is Enrico Aloisio,' said Greta.
Horatio clapped his hands together and burst out laughing. 'Not Naughty Enrico!'
'Do you know him?' asked Shimlara.
'I was his teacher. He was a sweet child except for when things didn't go his way. He used to throw the most remarkable tantrums, lying on the floor, kicking and screaming.'
'I can imagine him doing that,' said Sean.
'And the poor child suffered from terrible phobias,' said Horatio. 'He had xanthophobia and -'
'What's that?' asked Nicola.
'Fear of the colour yellow,' explained Horatio. 'We had to hide the yellow paints or he'd end up dribbling in the corner. He also had koumpounophobia. That's a fear of buttons. He was terrified of them! Let's see, what else? Oh, yes, he had melophobia. That's a fear of music. When he threw his tantrums I'd just threaten to sing a song and that would shut him up, quick smart! And there was one more thing . . .'
Horatio frowned at the sandwich Shimlara had just given him and then he snapped his fingers. 'He had arachibutyrophobia. That's a fear of peanut butter sticking to the roof of your mouth. Tell me, does he still suffer from all those phobias?'
'I don't know,' said Nicola. 'He is quite . . . strange.'
'I always told him that he needed to stop letting his phobias rule his life but he wouldn't listen. And now the little scamp is in charge of Shobble, eh? Does he do a good job?' Horatio took a massive bite of the sandwich.
'Well,' said Nicola. 'We're from another planet so we don't really know, but the thing is, the marshmallow miners and chocolate drillers don't get paid for their work.'
'They don't need any money,' said Horatio cheerfully. 'They just go along to the Department of Free Goods and Services
for anything they need - clothing, building materials, medicine, food other than chocolate . . . It's an enormous building. You just wheel your trolley about and help yourself. Wonderful place.'
Nicola thought back to the building they'd passed when they first arrived in Shobble.
'I think Enrico closed it,' said Nicola.
'Oh.' Horatio's bushy eyebrows drew together to form a 'v' shape. 'But then what does he do with all the money from the sales of ShobbleChoc?'
'He spends it on himself and his family and other hairities,' said Greta.
'What's a hairity?' asked Horatio.
'It's someone with long straight brown hair,' explained Nicola. 'They're like celebrities on this planet. People take photos of them.'
Horatio clapped his hands together. 'What a turn up for the books! Once upon a time children would make fun of people with long brown hair just because they were unusual. Enrico, for example, was teased terribly at school because of his hair. He used to get very upset.' Horatio paused. He seemed to be thinking. 'Perhaps that's what this is all about. Naughty Enrico is taking revenge on all those people who teased him at school.'
'I thought Shobble people were the nicest people in the galaxy,' said Shimlara. 'Why did the other children tease him?'
'Well, I must admit that's something of a myth we do like to encourage. While we are extremely nice, easygoing people, there are exceptions to every rule,' said Horatio. 'But tell me, why are the people of Shobble putting up with this shabby treatment by Naughty Enrico?'
'It's not that easy to get rid of a Commander-in-Chief,' said Nicola, thinking of Enrico's huge Security Thugs.
'Oh, I shouldn't think it would be that much trouble,' said Horatio airily.
The members of the Space Brigade exchanged looks that meant, Huh, what does he know!
'I know what you're thinking,' said Horatio. 'You're thinking, He's just an old man, what would he know?'
'Oh, no, not at all!' they protested.
'Well I actually know quite a lot,' said Horatio. 'My great-grandmother was one of the people who helped draft Shobble's Constitution. I know every word of the Constitution off by heart. You might be interested in clause 367-AAB-38479579034554. Shall I recite it to you?'
'All right,' said Nicola, hoping it wouldn't take too long. They really needed to get going soon.
'"If enough Shobble people sign a petition on a length of rose-coloured parchment, calling politely and respectfully for the removal of a Commander-in-Chief, and that parchment is long enough to stretch the length of a Shobble rainbow, then the Commander must resign gracefully and immediately, whereupon an election must be held for a new Commander. An attractive thank-you card should be sent to the resigning Commander within fourteen days."'