Thanks a Kazillion

Kazillion Text 29/7/04 1:37 PM Page i PRAISE FOR The Kazillion Wish ‘Imagine C.S. Lewis’s classic Chronicles of Narn...

Author: Nick Place

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Kazillion Text 29/7/04 1:37 PM Page i

PRAISE

FOR

The Kazillion Wish

‘Imagine C.S. Lewis’s classic Chronicles of Narnia written by Terry Pratchett. A strong sense of fun, if not outright silliness and enjoyment . . . It is a wonderfully comic piece of writing and an extremely imaginative tale.’ Magpies ‘This book is crazy, kooky fun!’ D-Magazine ‘The Kazillion Wish is written with verve and humour.’ The Age ‘This zany book will amuse and delight readers of all ages. The tongue-in-cheek humour is great.’ Reading Time ‘The Kazillion Wish is a great book – I finished it in three days, and I give it 10 out of 10.’ Gaby, age 8 ‘Its utter craziness makes it a hilarious book.’ Lyndon, age 13, The Launceston Examiner

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Kazillion Text 29/7/04 1:37 PM Page iii

N IC K P L A CE

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First published in 2004 © Copyright: Nick Place, Noisy Boy Media, 2004 All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording or by any information storage and retrieval system, without prior permission in writing from the publisher. The Australian Copyright Act 1968 (the Act) allows a maximum of one chapter or ten per cent of this book, whichever is the greater, to be photocopied by any educational institution for its educational purposes provided that the educational institution (or body that administers it) has given a remuneration notice to Copyright Agency Limited (CAL) under the Act. Allen & Unwin 83 Alexander Street Crows Nest NSW 2065 Australia Phone: (61 2) 8425 0100 Fax: (61 2) 9906 2218 Email: [email protected] Web: www.allenandunwin.com National Library of Australia Cataloguing-in-Publication entry: Place, Nick, 1965- . Thanks a kazillion. For children aged 7–12 years. ISBN 1 74114 503 1. 1. Human-alien encounters -– Juvenile fiction. I. Title. A823.4 Cover design by Binny Hobbs www.binny.com.au Text design by Jo Hunt Set in 10.5 on 14 pt Garamond by Midland Typesetters Printed by McPherson’s Printing Group 10 9 8 7 6 5 4 3 2 1

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Contents Before Chapter One Even

1

1

How to Get There

3

2

Things Are Quiet . . . Too Quiet!

4

3

Serious Frongle Business

16

4

When the ’Napped Stopped Napping

28

5

Harlan’s Despair

33

6

A Conversation with Your Own Mouth

37

7

Looking for Clues

45

8

A Martian Australian?

55

9

Summit at the Starry Eye Café

73

10 The Pool of Knowledge

82

11

What Wandiligong Saw

91

12

The Fellowship of the Banana

101

13

Life on Mars

106

14 Harlan Banana, Action Hero

117

15 Shooting the Breeze

119

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16

Lost and Found

125

17

Worldly + Grumpy = Trouble

130

18

Time to Go

132

19

The Star of Phobos

139

20 Let’s Make a Deal . . . 21

Know Your Planet

142 151

22 Game Over

162

23 The Sore Loser

166

24 Home, Sweet Home

171

After the Final Chapter . . .

176

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To my sister Amanda, to my also-brother Shauny, and to Mum and Dad – for the view from the Focsle and, of course, for everything else.

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At the end of The Kazillion Wish, it was suggested that Harlan and Ainsley Banana, along with their dad, Spencer Banana, and their also-mum, Dinah Drakedown, went on to live happily ever after. As it turns out, such a suggestion may have been a little hasty.

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Before Chapter One Even Zucchini Spacestation was travelling fast. Very fast. Faster than a car. Faster than a plane. Faster than a bullet. Faster than kids running to a tuckshop full of free snacks. Faster than anything you can think of that’s really, really fast. Zucchini wasn’t enjoying himself. Most of all he wished the screaming would stop. ‘Will you stop with the screaming?’ he prepared to yell, in the outrageous and completely unnecessary French accent favoured by Bows everywhere. Then he realised it was actually him screaming. He shrugged and kept screaming. ‘Cut it out!’ said one of the creatures at the controls of the vehicle that was transporting Zucchini at high speed. ‘Keep screaming and there’ll be trouble,’ said the other. ‘You want me to stop screaming? Then slow down,’ screamed Zucchini. ‘My eyes are watering. My nose is watering. My teeth are watering. My tummy button is watering. My knees are watering. Anyway, I can’t help screaming. We Bows aren’t supposed to get excited and right now I’m COMPLETELY FREAKED OUT! So I say to you, Mister, that I intend to scream and scream and scream.’ 1


Thanks a Kazillion And he did. All the way to their destination, by which time the creatures in the front seats had headaches that could sink a rhinoceros. ‘Just our luck to score a Bow,’ muttered one to the other.

2


o

At last, Chapter

1

How to Get There Fruitfly Bay isn’t a big town. It’s not hard to find your way around, even if your destination is a little unusual. To get to where we need to go, for example, you’d head down the main street, passing Lim’s milk bar, the bakery, the chemist and the newsagent, turn left at the post office then, after a couple of blocks, turn right at the footy oval. Once you’re past the skate park, continue straight on for a kilometre and you should have the golf course on your left, and houses on your right. Take the third street on the right and travel towards the war memorial. From there, take off into the air and travel straight up for roughly 497,418,887 kilometres. All going well, you should land somewhere near Mars. But not just yet. First we need to stop off at Fruitfly Bay Primary School where Harlan Banana is not happy.

3


P 2

Things Are Quiet . . . Too Quiet! ‘

M

r Banana, I think it is only fair that you stay behind after school to clean the blackboards. Do you not think this is fair, Mr Banana? I think it is extremely fair, isn’t it, everybody?’ Nobody in Class 6VS said a word. ‘There is one more thing, Mr Banana . . .’ ‘No having fun,’ muttered Harlan Banana under his breath. ‘There’s to be NO HAVING FUN!’ said Mr Vincent Sneezewrangler with his usual flourish. Hours later, as Harlan rubbed a duster across yet another blackboard, he was still muttering and scowling. Sneezewrangler might be the worst teacher ever – and this from Harlan who had survived hall-of-fame terrible teachers like Mr Alfred Stranglenose and Ms Gristle Grassmuncher. Harlan wondered where the school advertised for its teachers to keep coming up with such a steady stream of nightmares, then remembered he was supposed to be scowling and muttering. ‘That rotten Sneezewrangler!’ Harlan’s dark mood wasn’t entirely his teacher’s fault. The day had started badly, when Harlan had had yet 4


Things Are Quiet . . . Too Quiet! another fight with his younger sister, Ainsley. They’d been clashing a lot lately, and their spectacular Kazillion Wish quest was all but forgotten. Their father, Spencer, said it was just part of growing up – that there were times when brothers and sisters didn’t see eye to eye. Harlan didn’t know what it was. All he knew was that Ainsley was being a pain. Like this morning. He had been slow out of bed and had to hurry to be ready for school on time. He reached for the Weetbix and . . . ‘Where are the Weetbix?’ he asked. ‘Ate ’em,’ said Ainsley, licking her spoon. ‘You ate them? What about me? You didn’t save me any?’ ‘There were only three left. Bad luck. Too slow.’ Ainsley took a big slurp of apple juice. Just then Spencer Banana walked into the kitchen and flicked the kettle on. ‘Dad, Ainsley didn’t leave me any Weetbix.’ ‘There were only three left. What did you want me to do? Cut them in half?’ said Ainsley. ‘You could have at least left one for me.’ ‘Why? Get up earlier next time.’ Harlan couldn’t believe it. ‘Dad . . .’ ‘Ainsley’s right, Harlan. She got there first. Eat something else.’ ‘There’s only muesli.’ ‘Muesli is good for you.’ ‘I hate muesli.’ ‘I love muesli,’ said Ainsley. Harlan swung around. ‘Then why didn’t you have muesli for breakfast instead of Weetbix?’ ‘Because I know you like Weetbix.’ ‘WHAT?????’ Ainsley gave him a sweet smile. ‘Well, maybe next time 5


Thanks a Kazillion you’ll think twice about eating the last five pieces of my – repeat, MY – birthday cake, oh brother dear.’ ‘Oh man, are you still going on about that? It was two weeks ago. Ah, forget the Weetbix. I’ll just have some fruit juice. Hey! Where’s the apple juice?’ Ainsley drained her glass. Harlan glared at her. ‘You drank the last of the apple juice?’ Ainsley gave him an even sweeter smile. ‘I believe there’s still some grapefruit juice in the fridge.’ ‘Dad!’ And so it went. Harlan was almost relieved to go to school, where he was two grades and a building away from his annoying younger sister. And then Sneezewrangler picked up where Ainsley left off, making Harlan’s life miserable . . . So now it was almost 4.30 p.m. and the school was deserted. Harlan collected his backpack and headed to the staffroom. Sneezewrangler had demanded that Harlan report to the teachers’ area before leaving, probably just so he could say, ‘And Mr Banana – on the way home, there’s to be NO HAVING FUN!’ Or Stranglenose could pipe up with, ‘About time you did some blackboard duty, isn’t it, Banana? No? Yes?’ in his stupid way of talking. Unless Ms Grassmuncher – the slowest talker in the history of the world – said something, in which case they’d all be there until Christmas. But when Harlan knocked and stuck his head into the staffroom, it was empty. ‘Hello?’ he called. Nothing. He looked down the corridor but there were no signs of any teachers. He ducked his head back into the staffroom once more, checking, then trudged towards the stairs. 6


Things Are Quiet . . . Too Quiet! ‘So Mr Banana, do I care enough to hang around until you finish your dumb, undeserved detention? No, I don’t,’ Harlan mumbled darkly. ‘Is that fair, Mr Banana? No, it’s not fair. But do I care, class? Not at all. Instead I’m off – having fun.’ Harlan stalked out of the school grounds. The worst thing about getting the detention was that it had come at a rare moment when Harlan was actually enjoying himself in class. They were doing Media Studies and Harlan had become strangely fascinated by game shows. His media project was about how TV game shows had changed over the years. He had watched a lot of old general knowledge quiz shows – some, such as Pick a Box, were even in black and white! – that were made in the dinosaur ages, when his dad was a kid. He was comparing them (and the prizes) to much cooler shows, such as The New Price Is Right and Who Wants to Be a Millionaire? Harlan threw himself into his project. He cut up a bunch of TV magazines, drew diagrams of the Wheel of Fortune set and even listed all the hosts of Sale of the Century, with a brief biography of each. At home, Ainsley had been laughing her head off, and even accused Harlan of secretly, deep down, wanting to be a TV star. The worst part was: she might be right. Harlan loved watching the game-show hosts! They were such amazing performers and they could make the show funny or tense or exciting. Harlan wasn’t exactly a performer. Always thoughtful and careful – one for quiet planning, never the centre of attention – he surprised everyone by volunteering to host a game show in class as part of his project. And this afternoon he’d been double-checking the answers to his list of geography questions. Then Sneezewrangler went and ruined it all by reading 7


Thanks a Kazillion aloud from the cue cards Harlan had written. And he misread Harlan’s handwriting. ‘Bumingham, Mr Banana? Where in the world is Bumingham?’ Every kid in Class 6VS giggled. Sneezewrangler was furious and Harlan was slammed with a detention before he could even say, ‘It’s Birmingham. It’s a city in England.’ After such a rotten end to the school day, Harlan felt as though he deserved something delicious, to cheer up his stomach, and the rest of him. Rattling around in his pocket was some pocket money, which meant Harlan could afford three Freddo chocolate frogs or a Mars bar – although not the jumbo size – or a pile of snakes, jubes and other lollies. Maybe even a packet of Twisties, although he was pretty sure that Twisties were upwards of two bucks. The bell on the door to the milk bar jangled as usual. ‘Hello?’ called Harlan, expecting a cheery, ‘Hello, Banana Boy,’ from Lim, the milk bar owner. Lim came from Shanghai, a city in China. (Harlan had seen it on the map when he was checking his geography questions.) Lim was always happy, which Harlan found hard to believe because she was stuck behind the counter every hour of every day. When he turned up first thing in the morning to buy milk, or when he showed up in the late afternoon, Monday, Tuesday, Wednesday, Thursday, Friday, Saturday or Sunday, Lim was always there, saying, ‘Hello, Banana Boy!’ But not today. ‘Hello?’ Harlan said again, a little more loudly. ‘Come on down, Lim!’ But there was only the quiet hum of the milk bar’s refrigerators. No Lim. She must be out the back somewhere; maybe doing the washing or watching TV, he thought. Maybe she’s having a 8


Things Are Quiet . . . Too Quiet! snooze. She must sleep sometime. Who knows when, but she must. Late afternoon? Why not. Harlan checked out the racks of snacks, lollies and chips, and settled on three Freddos. One strawberry, one mint and one rainbow choc chip flavour. Sure, it wasn’t cloud chocolate . . . but there wasn’t much he could do about that. The previous summer, Harlan and Ainsley discovered the magical world of frongles, Bows and other non-human creatures. They had also discovered that in the rarest wisps of the most perfect clouds, there is the best, most mouthwatering, most delicious chocolate in the universe. But clouds are hard to reach, and since Harlan and Ainsley had completed their noble Kazillion Wish quest and returned to their normal life, Harlan had accepted that he was stuck with human chocolate. Having said that, Freddos rated pretty well on any taste scale, human or otherwise. Because Lim was nowhere to be seen, Harlan placed his money on the counter where she’d be sure to see it, and wrote a quick note, explaining that the money was for Freddos. He finished the note with a big smiley face, took his Freddos and left the empty shop. Harlan had been getting into skateboarding over the past few months, so he thought he’d go home past the skate park to check out the action. Two Freddos down (saving his favourite, mint, until last), he turned the corner and stopped and stared. Normally there would be about twenty kids zooming around on skateboards, rollerblades or even scooters. Today the concrete ramps were empty. Harlan groaned. If he had his board with him, he could have the entire skate park to himself. It was something he had only ever dreamed about. He usually found himself racing, almost out of control, towards a ramp or a hump, 9


Thanks a Kazillion then some bigger kid would cut him off, roaring through from another angle like a semi-trailer truck on mini wheels. Today he could have rolled wherever he liked. Today he could have had his pick of the ramps. Today the skating world would have been his. But he didn’t have his board, Sneezewrangler had held him up, and now he had to get home. His one hope was that his also-mum, Dinah, was at the Banana house, hanging out with his dad. As the only other human ever to achieve a Kazillion Wish and who understood his need for skateboard action, she was the one person who might have cared about the unbelievable opportunity of an empty skate park. There was a chance Dinah would let Harlan sneak back down for a while before he tackled his homework. Dinah’s daughter, Georgina, might even join him, if he could tear her and Ainsley apart for more than three seconds. Georgina was all action, and a much better skater than Harlan. But Dinah and Georgina might not be visiting. It was more likely that it was just the Bananas at home and that Ainsley had spilt the beans that he was on detention, which would mean he had no chance of lone skating into history. His sister wasn’t a ‘dobber’, but the way things were lately he wouldn’t put anything past her. Harlan kept walking, past the shops and past the high school. He was so absorbed in his thoughts that he didn’t notice the rainbow forming about 50 metres to his left. For most kids, a rainbow is a rainbow – pretty and colourful. Just as, for most kids, Fruitfly Bay is simply a small town on the coast. It has a great beach, a big grassy foreshore and is home to about 300 people, not including frongles, Bows, Chocolions and other residents that the human population generally doesn’t see. For the few 10


Things Are Quiet . . . Too Quiet! humans who do know about these creatures, a rainbow is something to watch. It wasn’t until Harlan passed the Fruitfly Café that he felt the shiver run up his neck. Something had been gnawing away at the back of his mind for a few minutes, but he’d only just realised what it was. He couldn’t believe he’d missed it! ‘Something is gnawing away at the back of your mind? Euuuwwww, yuck!’ said a strangely high-pitched voice in a completely unnecessary and outrageously exaggerated French accent. Harlan swung around to find a small, pot-bellied person sitting on a parked car with his fat, hairy, stubby little legs sticking straight out. A bright green hat sat at a jaunty angle on his head and he was wearing a very red jacket, a pale green shirt, yellow pants and pink socks. Only one kind of creature in the magical world had such bad dress sense – Harlan knew he was looking at a Bow. He also noticed that the Bow was holding an oversized fluorescent orange skateboard with twelve wheels. ‘I think the gnawing at the back of my mind stuff was just a figure of speech,’ said Harlan. ‘And anyway, it was the guy telling the story who said it, not me.’ ‘Is that so?’ said the Bow, squinting. ‘Well, I didn’t appreciate what he said about my legs.’ ‘Nice deck,’ Harlan said, admiring the twelve-wheel skateboard. ‘Why, thanks,’ said the Bow, almost bursting with pride. ‘It’s my one true love.’ ‘Really?’ ‘Actually, no. But it’s a nice colour.’ ‘Are you a good skater?’ ‘The very best.’ ‘Can you do a barrel roll?’ 11


Thanks a Kazillion The Bow thought about this. ‘No.’ ‘Can you do an ollie? An anti-casper?’ ‘Nope.’ ‘Can you pull a fandangle?’ The Bow nodded his head enthusiastically. ‘No, never heard of it.’ ‘Can you do a falcon slide? A grind? A manual?’ ‘Not as such.’ Harlan crossed his arms and frowned at the Bow. ‘I thought you said you were the very best.’ ‘Well, the best in my family . . . maybe. If my mum hasn’t been skating lately.’ ‘She’s a good skater?’ ‘Never owned a board, as far as I know.’ ‘Rigggght,’ said Harlan. He was definitely having a conversation with a Bow. ‘Do I know you?’ he asked. Bad question. The Bow’s face lit up and he leapt to his feet. ‘Maybe, maybe not,’ he said, and drew himself up to his full height (not very tall). ‘Allow me to introduce myself!’ ‘Uh oh,’ thought Harlan. He’d heard Bow introductions before. The Bow struck a dramatic pose, both arms outstretched, and smiled a huge toothy smile. ‘It is me, me is I, I is for island, no man is an island and I am not a man.’ Harlan rolled his eyes. ‘Ha ha ha ha ha ha ha!’ continued the Bow. ‘Here we go with a Bow-oh-oh. You’re probably asking, ‘Is that so?’ Well, don’t you know? No need to crow. Or move too slow. There’s only the introduction to go! You see before you the most dazzling of Bows, the most daredevil of Bows, the most dynamic of Bows, the most disastrous of Bows, the most delectable of Bows . . .’ 12


Things Are Quiet . . . Too Quiet! ‘Did you say the most disastrous of Bows?’ asked Harlan. The Bow jolted to a stop. ‘Did I say “disastrous”? I meant to say ‘‘fantastissimo!’’ ’ ‘That’s not even a word,’ said Harlan. ‘Hey, I’m trying to introduce myself here,’ said the Bow, French accent more outrageous than ever. ‘The most desirable of Bows, the most divine of Bows . . . I am, I tell you, the Bow with the most, the Bow who rules the coast . . . the one, the only, the magnificent . . .’ Here the Bow paused to milk the moment. And milked it some more. And paused for a fraction longer so that milk would soon be spilling everywhere, if he milked this any longer. ‘I am . . . Wandiligong Skyscraper!!!!!!!!!!!! Ha ha ha, ha ha ha, ha ha ha!’ Harlan loved the ha ha ha that Bows always added to their introductions, and he was ready for it. ‘Ha ha ha, ha ha ha, ha ha ha what?’ he asked in a deadpan voice. Most Bows hated it when you called them on the ha ha ha . . . and Wandiligong Skyscraper was no different. He looked confused and then uncomfortable. He forced a smile and said: ‘Um, just ha ha ha, ha ha ha, ha ha ha . . . as in, “Boy, I feel like a milkshake!”’ ‘You don’t look like a milkshake,’ said Harlan. The Bow stared at Harlan. ‘Excellent joke, human boy,’ said Wandiligong. ‘Thanks,’ said Harlan. ‘And, I’m very pleased to meet you, Wandiligong Skyscraper. You’re not from around here, are you?’ ‘You can tell? Is it my jacket? I knew I should have worn the baby blue one!’ ‘No, it’s because every male Bow from the Fruitfly Bay area has a first name starting with Z, and because your 13


Thanks a Kazillion second name is Skyscraper. Most of the local Bows are Spacestations.’ ‘You use Bows as spacestations??? That’s terrible!’ screamed Wandiligong, bouncing up and down on the car. ‘They could get hit by a meteor. Or worse, an asteroid!’ ‘No, that’s their name – Zucchini Spacestation, Zanzibar Spacestation, Bikini Spacestation. And meteors and asteroids are the same thing, by the way.’ The Bow looked confused again, then grinned. ‘I knew that. Just testing.’ Suddenly Harlan remembered the thing that had been gnawing the back of his mind. ‘Wandiligong, is it just me or does Fruitfly Bay seem kind of empty?’ ‘Oh, you noticed, huh? They said you were the smart one.’ ‘So, it is deserted?’ ‘Yep, and you know what that means!’ said the Bow. ‘Well, the only other time the town was this quiet was during our Kazillion Wish quest, when everybody, except me, Ainsley and Georgina, was suspended in a “frongle fog”. We won a huge battle over the fishface, but none of the other humans ever knew anything about it.’ ‘You’re getting warm . . .’ Wandiligong suddenly jumped off the car, clipped the end of his skateboard, and landed on his bum. ‘Ow.’ ‘So, I’m guessing that this is some kind of frongle fog lockdown . . .’ ‘Even warmer!’ The Bow was bouncing up and down on his skateboard. ‘Which means either a quest is underway . . .’ ‘Colder!!!’ yelled the Bow. 14


Things Are Quiet . . . Too Quiet! ‘Colder? Okay, it’s not a quest. But it must be serious frongle business.’ ‘VERY HOT! ALMOST BOILING!’ shrieked the Bow, lurching towards the gutter on his twelve-wheel skateboard. ‘But why am I awake if everybody else is in the fog?’ With no control of his skateboard, Wandiligong smashed into the kerb, flew through the air, and somersaulted onto the grass. He looked up. ‘Good question . . . come on, come on, come on, come on, come on, come on, come on, come on, come on . . .’ Harlan stared at the Bow, eyes widening. ‘Something’s happened to somebody in my family.’ ‘YOU GOT IT!!!’ screamed the Bow, bursting into flames. ‘Wow, hot hot hot hot hot hot hot.’ ‘I’ve got to get home!’ said Harlan, and he sprinted towards his dad’s house. ‘Oh, don’t worry about me. I’ll just sit here, quietly, in flames, will I?’ muttered Wandiligong. When he realised Harlan was gone he pulled a huge bucket of water out of his coat pocket and put out the flames. Then he picked up his skateboard and walked, whistling, in the direction that Harlan had gone. ‘That crazy kid,’ Wandiligong said to himself. ‘He really should have asked me what I saw. I came all this way and he didn’t even ask . . .’

15


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Serious Frongle Business Harlan burst in the front door. ‘Hello?’ he called. ‘Ainsley? Dad?’ Silence. ‘Dad? Dinah? Georgina?’ Nothing. ‘Try the lounge room,’ suggested a voice from next to his left ear. Harlan jumped, spun around and found himself staring at a small flying person, about the size of a soft drink can and dressed head-to-toe, wings and all, in silver. ‘A frongle!’ Harlan said. ‘Oh, very good. Well spotted,’ said the frongle. ‘The name’s Kookbat.’ ‘Are you from the Fruitfly Bay Frongle Collective?’ asked Harlan. The frongle puffed out her chest with pride. ‘You’ve heard of us?’ she said. ‘The FBFC? Sure, I have,’ said Harlan. ‘Wow, our new marketing campaign must really be working!’ said the frongle. ‘I’ll have to tell Moogwig, the head of our Public Relations subcommittee.’ ‘Actually, I’m friends with Zootfrog,’ explained Harlan. 16


Serious Frongle Business ‘Zootfrog? Zootfrog?’ The frongle scratched her head. ‘Is he one of ours?’ ‘She . . . Zootfrog is a she,’ said Harlan. ‘Right. Is she one of ours?’ ‘Yes! She’s the golden frongle.’ ‘Nope, can’t place her.’ ‘She’s one of the top executive frongles.’ ‘Nope.’ ‘She led the frongle army in last year’s ferocious battle against the dreaded fishface who live deep in the sea and hope to one day reclaim the world.’ The silver frongle shook her head. ‘No, no . . . doesn’t ring a bell.’ ‘Zootfrog set me and my sister on our noble quest. We thought she was an ordinary wish-frongle. Later, we discovered she’s a senior frongle warrior.’ ‘A noble quest?’ said the frongle. ‘Yeah, we earned a Kazillion Wish.’ ‘A Kazillion Wish, hey? Boy, that’s a big one! And you achieved it? Well done.’ ‘You don’t know any of this? You don’t know Zootfrog?’ ‘OHHHHHH, Zootfrog! Our second-in-command golden frongle. Our brilliant military commander when we are under attack? THAT Zootfrog?’ Harlan rolled his eyes. ‘Yes, THAT Zootfrog.’ ‘Of course I know her. In fact, she’s waiting in the lounge room right now.’ ‘What? Zootfrog is here?’ Harlan sped in to the lounge room so quickly he left Kookbat spinning in the air behind him. There, looking tiny on the human-sized couch, was Zootfrog, dazzling and golden as ever – even in the gloomy late afternoon light. 17


Thanks a Kazillion ‘Hello Harlan,’ said the frongle, looking glum. ‘What’s wrong, Zootfrog? Is it Dad?’ ‘I can’t tell you here. I’ve just come to collect you. Come on, we’re going to headquarters.’ Headquarters. Frongle headquarters. Harlan was sure humans never, ever went there. Something bad was definitely up. Zootfrog rose into the air, her tiny wings a blur of motion, and zipped past Harlan, heading out the back door. Kookbat was nowhere to be seen. Harlan ran after Zootfrog and caught up with her at a frongle car on the back lawn. It was golden, like Zootfrog, and shaped like a Volkswagen Beetle, but doll-size. Zootfrog climbed in and fastened her seatbelt. Harlan stood next to the car, which didn’t even reach up to his knees. ‘Um, Zootfrog. I don’t think I’ll fit,’ said Harlan. ‘There’s no time,’ Zootfrog cried, and she muttered something about scales and shrinking and snails. Harlan quickly began to get smaller and smaller. Within seconds he was the size of a soft drink can (frongle size) and looking in the window of Zootfrog’s car. ‘We haven’t got all the time in the world, Harlan! Get in!’ Zootfrog snapped. Harlan slid into his seat, ‘You’ve never spoken to me like that before, Zootfrog. Have I done something wrong?’ ‘No Harlan, you haven’t. Sorry. Bad day,’ Zootfrog said, flicking an apologetic grin in his direction as she fired up the car. ‘It will make sense soon. I promise.’ They shot straight up into the air, then swung north and flew over trees and houses until they were out of town. After a while, Harlan noticed the colours were more vivid, the houses were strange shapes and the grass was in three tones of green and patterned like a three-dimensional chess board. 18


Serious Frongle Business ‘Zootfrog?’ said Harlan. ‘Relax. Almost there.’ They were approaching a town. It was in frongle scale and the houses had long, pointed roofs, and were painted in a blast of colours. One house had walls in five different colours, with a shiny gold roof. Another was white with giant flowers painted on every wall. Harlan had to blink because the colours reflected the sun so brightly. Zootfrog landed the car outside one of the bigger houses, and skidded to a halt right across a driveway. ‘Zootfrog, you’re blocking the driveway,’ said Harlan. ‘Whatever. Come on!’ the frongle said, and rushed towards the house across the street. Harlan shrugged and followed. As soon as he was through the front door he found himself in an enormous hall, so huge that he couldn’t see any way it could fit inside the house he’d just entered. He’d never get the hang of the non-human world, he decided, and walked quickly to the centre of the hall, where a single important-looking frongle sat in a large, regal seat. Zootfrog hovered beside him. Zootfrog muttered some words about reverse shrinking, normal size, sneezes and worms and suddenly Harlan grew back to his human size, meaning he was now larger than the house from the outside, but still dwarfed by the room he was in. Weirder and weirder and that’s before he even considered the frongle. Unlike Zootfrog, in her head-to-toe gold, this frongle was wearing a costume of pale blue that reminded Harlan of the ocean. He looked older than Zootfrog and had a big white moustache, which Harlan had never seen on a frongle before. Harlan also saw the frongle was nervously fidgeting with a sleepy-bye ring – a device which frongles and Bows used to put humans to sleep. 19


Thanks a Kazillion Finally Harlan couldn’t wait any longer. ‘What’s going on, Zootfrog?’ ‘First I should introduce Moogwig, the Fruitfly Bay Frongle Collective’s Human Relations Consultant.’ Something in his friend’s tone told Harlan that Zootfrog didn’t think much of the frongle she was introducing. Moogwig stood, and nodded curtly. ‘Hello Master Banana. I’m here to make sure that none of this, as they say, “gets out” to the wider human world, and that we didn’t leave clues at your house that might look bad for frongles.’ The frongle sat down again and gave Harlan a challenging look, as though daring him to question this decision. Harlan blinked. He’d only ever met happy, friendly frongles before. ‘Nice to meet you, Moogwig. Can you tell me what’s going on?’ he asked again. ‘What might look bad for frongles? Why is the whole town asleep except for me? Where’s my dad? My mum? My also-mum?’ ‘Asleep in their beds. Relax. They’re fine,’ said Moogwig. ‘Then what—’ Moogwig shifted in his seat. ‘Look, this is quite embarrassing, and outside of this room, I’ll deny I ever said this, but the truth is . . . it would appear that we might have possibly, just maybe, perhaps made the tiniest mistake.’ ‘A mistake?’ asked Harlan. ‘Yes . . . Do you remember, when you completed your noble quest to earn your Kazillion Wish? And after the party at the Starry Eye Café, the evil Lord of the Bark made those mysterious comments about how Ainsley was “The One”?’ ‘Umm, nope,’ Harlan said. ‘Of course you do. We were all trying to work out what 20


Serious Frongle Business he meant. Did he mean “The One” as in Luke Skywalker was “The One” who used the force to turn the tide against the Empire in Star Wars ? Or “The One” like Frodo, the ring-bearer in Lord of the Rings ? Or “The One” like the kids destined to be kings and queens of Narnia in The Lion, the Witch and the Wardrobe ? Maybe “The One”, like Neo was “The One” in The Matrix ? Or “The One” like . . .’ ‘I haven’t got a clue what you’re talking about,’ Harlan said, shaking his head and frowning. ‘We didn’t discuss anything about Ainsley being “The One”.’ They stared at one another. ‘Really? I could have sworn you were there. Oh well, you get what I’m saying,’ said the frongle impatiently. ‘Anyway, umm, we might have been a little off beam with our thinking.’ ‘Off beam?’ asked Harlan. ‘Just off track,’ said Moogwig. ‘Off track?’ asked Harlan. ‘Not entirely accurate.’ ‘Not entirely accurate?’ ‘Look, are you going to repeat everything I say, because this is hard enough as it is!’ Moogwig snapped. ‘Sorry,’ said Harlan, and he meant it. He’d never seen such a grumpy frongle. ‘So, if “The One” wasn’t some destiny, like in those books and films, what do you think “The One” was?’ The frongle winced even as he said it. ‘Well, we now think the entire sentence might have been: “She’s The One who’s going to get kidnapped”.’ Harlan stared for a moment, taking in what had just been said. His brain spun helplessly, his stomach joined in with a somersault and he felt his legs go weak. ‘KIDNAPPED?’ 21


Thanks a Kazillion ‘Don’t get too excited,’ said the frongle. ‘Excited??’ yelled Harlan. ‘Don’t over-react.’ ‘Over-react???’ ‘Try to stay calm.’ ‘CALM????’ ‘Look, you’re repeating my words again . . .’ ‘My sister’s been kidnapped!’ roared Harlan. ‘You’re saying my sister has been kidnapped.’ ‘Well, we think there’s a chance she might have been.’ ‘It’s an unusual situation that wish-frongles aren’t really equipped for,’ said Zootfrog. ‘Human kids don’t vanish into midair very often.’ ‘Apart from those recent cases in Sweden, the United States of America, Mexico, Kenya, Japan and one of those islands right at the bottom of South America. But I don’t see what they’ve got to do with anything,’ Moogwig said. He suddenly gave Harlan a hint of a grin. ‘It’s not all bad news though.’ Harlan couldn’t believe it. ‘There’s good news?’ Now Moogwig beamed an oily smile. ‘Yes, good news. While the frongle community absolutely agrees that Ainsley being kidnapped is very, very bad news – and I want to make that clear, Harlan. We’re not for that at all . . . The good news is that it looks as though a Bow by the name of Zucchini Spacestation may well have been bownapped as well.’ ‘Bownapped?’ said Harlan. ‘Don’t start that again!’ said Moogwig. ‘Sorry. Zucchini has been bownapped? Are you sure.’ ‘Well, the other Bows report that the district has been very quiet for three days and nothing has been broken, so yes, we’re pretty sure he’s not around.’ 22


Serious Frongle Business Harlan slumped to the floorboards and held his head in his hands. ‘Ainsley. Kidnapped!’ It was as though all the petty battles of the past few months had never happened. ‘What are we going to do?’ Zootfrog hovered nearby. She put her small golden hand on his shoulder. ‘You’re not going to do anything. You’re going to sit tight while we search.’ Harlan snapped his head back up. ‘What? You can’t be serious.’ ‘Think about it, Harlan. We have no idea who’s behind this. We’ve got frongles talking to the Lord of Bark now. I’m waiting on their report.’ She pulled out her mobile phone and checked for messages, then shook her head. ‘We don’t know why Ainsley and Zucchini have been taken. It might be something to do with your Kazillion Wish. It might be that they plan to grab you too. You have to stay safe.’ Much as he hated to admit it, Harlan could see that there was some sense in all this. He should stay out of sight, at least until they knew the kidnappers weren’t looking for him, too. ‘Stay safe? Where?’ he asked. ‘You can go home. Fly will go with you.’ ‘You’re sending me home with a fly?’ Zootfrog grinned for the first time since Harlan had met her that day. ‘Not just any fly. Meet Fly Dog the Magnificent!’ And on cue, a huge, fluffy cream-coloured dog came bounding into the room. She had a lolling tongue, dancing eyes and her tail was wagging so hard that her entire back half was swinging from side to side. She barked once, and said, ‘Hiya, Harlan.’ ‘Hi,’ said Harlan. ‘Is your name really Fly?’ ‘Sure is.’ 23


Thanks a Kazillion ‘So, can you?’ The dog sat on her haunches, cocked her ears and tilted her head. ‘Can I what?’ ‘Fly! Can you fly?’ ‘What? No! Of course I can’t fly. I’m a dog.’ ‘Then why are you called Fly?’ ‘That’s ridiculous. Can you “Harlan”? If not, then why are you called Harlan?’ ‘Hmm, good point,’ said Harlan. ‘Anyway, flying is overrated,’ said Fly, wagging her tail again. ‘I guard people. I’m strong, I’m sharp and I’m smart! In fact, I’m sharp as a tack. I don’t even know what a “tack” is, but I’m like a tack . . . yeah, that’s me. A Tack Dog! Hey, I’m a tack dog! Cool!’ Fly suddenly shifted her weight and tried to scratch her right ear with her back leg. Unfortunately she missed her ear and kicked herself in the eye. ‘Why don’t I feel totally safe?’ Harlan asked Zootfrog. ‘You’ll be fine. Fly Dog the Magnificent is very enthusiastic.’ ‘And what are we supposed to do while you search for Ainsley and Zucchini?’ Fly wagged her tail. ‘Well, you could always throw a ball! I love chasing balls.’ Just then, the air was filled with a terrifying noise. It sounded as though a giant ship was about to plough through the house – as if a mountain of seagoing metal was surging straight at the flimsy wall of Moogwig’s house. Then a deafening foghorn blew all other noise out of the air: HONNNNNNNNNKKKKKKKK. ‘Look out!’ Harlan screamed. ‘A giant ship is about to plough through the house!’ He dived to the floor and covered his head in his hands. ‘A mountain of seagoing metal is surging straight at the 24


Serious Frongle Business flimsy wall of Moogwig’s house!’ he yelled and desperately shut his eyes. ‘Hit the decks!’ he cried. Then for emphasis, he added, ‘Aaaaaaaaaahhhhhhh!!!!!!!’ The frongles looked at one another and sniggered. Fly Dog the Magnificent tilted her head and gazed intently at Harlan, tapping her tail delightedly on the floor. ‘Um, Harlan,’ said Zootfrog. ‘Why are you on the floor?’ asked Moogwig. Harlan noticed that the frongles hadn’t moved, and they didn’t look particularly concerned that a passenger liner or giant container ship was moments away from destroying them all. He suspected that somehow he had the sound wrong. He picked himself up off the floor. ‘No ship?’ he stammered. ‘Not even a rubber raft,’ Zootfrog said. ‘Just for the record, if a ship HAD been about to plough through our house – which is unlikely because we’re miles from the ocean – how exactly would diving to the floor and covering your head with your hands have helped?’ Moogwig asked. ‘Well, to be honest, I didn’t have a plan,’ said Harlan. ‘But that’s not the point! What was that sound?’ ‘It’s the doorbell,’ Moogwig said. ‘Let’s see who it is.’ ‘They might have news on the nappings,’ Zootfrog said. The unmistakable and deafening sound of a giant ship honking its foghorn only moments before it bulldozed its way through the entire house blasted again. Harlan flinched. ‘Coming!’ yelled Moogwig. ‘We’re coming!’ The two frongles, Harlan and Fly made their way across the expanse of the great hall to the front door. Moogwig put his eye to the little peephole to see who was there. ‘All I can see is black.’ 25


Thanks a Kazillion ‘Moogwig, we are two of the most senior and powerful frongles in the Fruitfly Bay region. Why be scared of opening our own door?’ said Zootfrog lightly. She opened the door. They all gasped. Standing there was a creature who was totally, utterly black. Where its face should have been was black. Its entire body was pitch black, so darkly black that it was difficult to tell where its body ended and its legs and arms began. It may or may not have been wearing clothes – it was far too black to tell. On its head was a completely black bowler hat. Fly growled softly. Everybody stared at this mysterious black creature. It stared back at them. Then, ever so slowly, it raised its right arm, and pointed an extremely long index finger at Zootfrog. ‘You ………!’ it said in a voice that was like a roar of wind ahead of a storm. ‘YOU!!!!!!!!!!’ Fly barked a single, deep, ‘WOOF!’ Zootfrog, on the other hand, said in a very loud voice that could probably be described as a scream, ‘AAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHH!’ She flew into the air and bolted as fast as she could, wings blurring, in the opposite direction. Moogwig dived into the next room, slamming the door and locking it, leaving Harlan and Fly to run desperately in pursuit of the fast-disappearing Zootfrog, who zoomed straight through a back window of the frongle house and took off like a golden streak across a paddock. Harlan flung open the door, jumped the fence and sprinted through the paddock. ‘Zootfrog, wait!’ Suddenly something occurred to him and he turned back towards the house. It was tiny again, with no hint of 26


Serious Frongle Business the giant rooms within. Harlan sighed. Hanging out with magical creatures could fry your brain sometimes. The mysterious black figure was nowhere in sight. Fly sniffed the air, hunting a frongle scent, while Harlan kept running, but at a slightly slower pace. He was sure that Zootfrog wouldn’t leave him stranded. Would she?

27


p 4

When the ’Napped Stopped Napping A

insley Banana woke up scared. Her eyes snapped open. She was trapped. Leaves brushed her face and her arms and legs were wrapped tight by long tentacle-like vines. She desperately wrestled to get her neck free so she could breathe properly. As she struggled, the plant loosened its grip on her waist, where a thicker, cable-like branch had been wrapped twice around her. Ainsley thrashed harder and screamed louder and the bizarre plant continued to loosen its grip. Then it released her legs and finally freed her arms, and bent over slightly so that she landed softly on her feet on the ground. Ainsley panted and shook with fright. She watched the ghastly plant shrink until it looked like an ordinary fern in a large pot. It was the second time she had fallen asleep, exhausted, and both times she had woken, hours later, trapped in the plant’s multi-branch grip. She couldn’t believe she’d been lucky enough to break free twice. She made a promise to herself that she wouldn’t fall asleep again. After what she remembered as a long, dreamy journey, Ainsley had come out of a trance to find herself alone in this room, and she hadn’t left it since. It was large and 28


When the ’Napped Stopped Napping almost empty. Apart from the terrifying pot plant, there was also a small pot that she’d had to use as a toilet, and a pile of books in a corner. They were all about Earth, and included an atlas and a huge encyclopedia, which listed just about every fact there is to know about Earth and its people. Several pages of the thick book had a corner turned down, as a bookmark, and Ainsley noticed that most of these pages were about Australia. There was even an entry about Fruitfly Bay. At the other end of the room was a huge globe of Earth, and a massive telescope near the window. When Ainsley had looked through it, shortly after finding herself in the room, she had been able to make out a small blue-ish planet, and a tiny moon. She wondered if the telescope was pointing at Mars, or maybe Jupiter. She was pretty sure they both had moons. One good thing in the room was a tray of food and drink. On it was a glass of what appeared to be milk and a plate of biscuits, including shortbreads, teddy bears and a few Monte Carlo cream biscuits. There was also a dish with a large pile of gherkins – a horrible kind of pickle that Ainsley had no intention of even touching. But her stomach was going to have some fun with that tray when she finally stopped feeling too scared and freaked out to eat. For now, she wandered over to the window that took up almost an entire wall. Light streamed into the room through it; a strange kind of light. Ainsley gasped again at the incredible view. A huge mountain range rose dramatically to the left and a sea stretched to the horizon on the right. A road wound down a long hill from where she was to the water and she could see surf, which meant the sea was probably an ocean. She was certain that she was nowhere near Fruitfly Bay. In fact, given her sense of 29


Thanks a Kazillion having travelled a long way, she might even be overseas. In Fruitfly Bay, the surf wasn’t usually orange. Come to think of it, the mountains were usually green, not purple. The sky was definitely not yellow. In another wall of her room there was a very solid door that was sealed shut and locked with five large locks. Ainsley’s stomach flipped as she looked at them and wondered what on earth was going on. As though in answer, she heard a rattle of keys outside the door. There was a click in the top lock, followed by more rattling. The next lock also clicked but then there was a loud crash as what sounded like a large key ring was dropped to the floor. ‘Ay Carumba! Right on my foot!’ After more fumbling and jangling, the third lock clicked and then the second last lock. Ainsley moved to hide behind the giant globe as she listened to more fumbling and jangling, and some muttering as the wrong key was placed in the bottom lock. Ainsley changed her mind about cowering behind the globe and moved to the centre of the room, hands on hips and defiantly facing the door as she heard a final click and the turn of the doorknob. A creature wearing a large sombrero – a pointy Mexican hat with a very wide brim – walked through the door. ‘Hola!!!! You know, that eez Mexican for “hello”,’ said the holder of the large key ring, in a fake Mexican accent that was almost as ridiculous as Zucchini Spacestation’s completely unnecessary and overblown French accent. ‘Hey Señorita, your sleep was good, no?’ ‘Who are you?’ Ainsley asked. ‘I am Mexican. Pleased to make your acquaintance,’ said the creature, removing his sombrero and bowing low. His 30


When the ’Napped Stopped Napping crazy fake accent reminded Ainsley of the cartoon mouse, Speedy Gonzalez. ‘Bienvenido to my hacienda,’ he said, then leaned forward and said in a smug whisper, ‘That means, “Welcome to my house.” I speak the Mexican like a native Mexican . . . which is what I am, no? A genuine, 100 per cent, totally real South American hombre.’ ‘Mexico is in Central America, not South America,’ said Ainsley. ‘No, Mexico is very much in South America.’ ‘No, it isn’t. It’s right below California, at the bottom of the United States.’ Ainsley thought she saw panic flash in her kidnapper’s eyes. ‘I think you’ll find you’re wrong,’ he said meekly. ‘Ay Carumba! I hope you’re wrong! The boss would be mad!’ ‘Anyway, you don’t even look Mexican,’ said Ainsley. ‘Neverzeeless, I am Mexican,’ he said, bowing low, arms wide. ‘What could possibly on this planet make the señorita say I am not Mexican?’ ‘Well, you look more like a Martian.’ The creature was genuinely shocked. ‘A Martian?? You think so, huh amigo girl? What makes the señorita think that Mexican is Martian, if I may be asking?’ Ainsley stared at him. ‘Well, for starters, the five legs, four arms, two antennas on your head and four tentacles poking out of your back are a give-away,’ she said. ‘The other Martians I’ve met all look like that.’ ‘Hasta la . . . actually, I will speak the English, sí? So you won’t feel intimidated by my amazing duplo-language skills.’ Ainsley stared at him. ‘What’s your name, amigo?’ ‘I told you. I am Mexican.’ 31


Thanks a Kazillion ‘Yes, I know, but what’s your name?’ ‘That is what I’m saying, Señorita . . . my name is Mexican.’ ‘Oh, okay, I get it: you want me to guess your name? A Mexican word . . . all right.’ Ainsley racked her brain. Food! She’d eaten Mexican food. ‘Is your name Enchilada?’ ‘No, is Mexican!’ ‘Not Enchilada? Okay, what about Taco?’ ‘Mexican!’ ‘Burrito.’ ‘Mexican!!’ ‘Quesadilla?’ ‘Mexican! Mexican! Mexican!’ ‘Fine, be mysterious, Mr Martian Mexican. See if I care. I’m sick of guessing. I’m sick of being here. I want to go home. Now.’ ‘Not possible right now. So sorry. You’re Australian, yes?’ ‘I’m Australian? Of course I’m Australian.’ ‘Sí, you Australian. My hombre, Worldly, look forward to meeting you mucho greatious, seester.’ Ainsley crossed her arms and glared. ‘You speak Mexican as well as I’d speak horse, if I ever tried to speak horse.’ He broke into a huge grin. ‘Thank you muchos, Señorita. That is the nicest thing anybody say to this hombre for a long time.’ Ainsley turned and faced the window. What was the point?

32


O 5

Harlan’s Despair Harlan and Fly Dog the Magnificent finally caught up to Zootfrog. The golden frongle was so puffed she was sitting on a log and panting like a dog that’s chased too many sticks on a hot day. ‘Man oh man oh man oh man oh man,’ Zootfrog panted. Her golden frongle uniform was darker than usual because it was drenched in sweat. ‘I haven’t had a fright like that since I accidentally flew into a Bow family picnic.’ ‘Thanks for leaving me with that thing, whatever it was,’ Harlan grumbled. ‘Oh, sorry, Harlan. That wasn’t very frongle-like of me, was it?’ Zootfrog said. ‘But it was after me, not you. It pointed straight at me and said, “You!”’ ‘Do you have any idea what it was?’ ‘Oh, yes. I know exactly what it was – who it was. That’s why I took off.’ ‘I’ve never seen you scared, Zootfrog.’ ‘You’ve never seen me face-to-face with Mr Shadow.’ ‘Mr Shadow?’ ‘Mr Shadow.’ Zootfrog was finally breathing a little more easily. 33


Thanks a Kazillion ‘Okay, I give up,’ Harlan said. ‘Who is Mr Shadow?’ ‘Nobody really knows, but he’s big and unfeasibly black and sometimes shows up in the frongle world. There’s a rumour that he lives near frongle headquarters. All I know is he scares the wings off me.’ Harlan slumped. ‘Do you think he has anything to do with Ainsley’s kidnapping?’ Zootfrog frowned. ‘Hard to say. I’ve never heard of Mr Shadow doing anything like that, but who can tell?’ ‘Does he throw balls?’ Fly asked. ‘Or sticks? Anybody who throws sticks can’t be all bad.’ ‘I’m pretty sure he doesn’t throw sticks, Fly.’ The events of the past few hours suddenly started to catch up with Harlan. His sister was gone. Kidnapped. He might never see her again. And what would he tell his dad, mum and also-mum? Harlan could feel his heart hurting. Sure, he and Ainsley had had some yelling matches lately, but now they didn’t seem to matter. A lot of their grumpiness had started when their almost-sister, Georgina, and Ainsley became good friends. The Banana and Drakedown families had been edging closer as Harlan’s dad and Georgina’s mum fell in love again, as a result of Harlan and Ainsley’s successful Kazillion Wish. Georgina was the daughter of Dinah Drakedown, their also-mum, so she came to their house often. Harlan didn’t regret the quest for an also-mum but Georgina had changed things for Harlan. Not on purpose, of course, but the two girls ganged up on him, in a goodnatured way, and talked about sharing a room after Spencer and Dinah got married and they all became a family. Georgina had joined Ainsley in stirring Harlan about his love of game shows, calling him ‘The Carry-over Champ of Fruitfly Bay’. Normally, he would have laughed, 34


Harlan’s Despair but it felt as though Ainsley was starting to care about Georgina more than him, and he didn’t like it. Harlan and Ainsley had always been close, but these days Harlan felt like an outsider. And it wasn’t Georgina’s fault that Ainsley had fallen in love with the idea of having a big sister. Lately the only way for Harlan to get Ainsley’s attention was to tease her or play pranks on her, which drove her crazy. One time he glued all her favourite pencils to her desk. Even he was horrified when she howled her eyes out. Boy, he got into trouble that day. Now Harlan could feel a hole somewhere in him where Ainsley should be. As though reading his mind, Zootfrog placed a warm frongle hand on his shoulder. She said softly, ‘Don’t worry, Harlan. We’ll find her.’ ‘We don’t even know where to start. We don’t know who to look for. We don’t know why they’ve taken her, or where. Not to mention Zucchini. Why would anybody steal a Bow?’ ‘We’ll find her. We’ll find them. Frongles everywhere will help as soon as Moogwig can get the message out. Somebody will have seen something.’ Fly stopped chewing a stick she had found and licked Harlan on the hand, then leaned her weight against him. Harlan put an arm around the dog and scratched her under the chin. ‘What do we do, Zootfrog?’ Harlan asked. ‘Get the car? Fly-drive back to Fruitfly Bay?’ ‘What, are you nuts? I’m not going back to get the car. Not with Mr Shadow hanging around headquarters. We’ll hitch a pelican to Fruitfly Bay.’ As though it had been waiting for the words, a giant pelican appeared overhead, and circled gracefully down to 35


Thanks a Kazillion where Zootfrog, Harlan and Fly sat. The bird looked at Harlan and nodded once, slowly. Harlan realised it was one of the pelicans they’d flown during their quest, which made him think of Ainsley, and big wishes. ‘Zootfrog,’ Harlan said uncertainly. ‘There’s one way we could get Ainsley back . . .’ ‘Ah, Harlan. You’re a good thinker so I knew you’d come up with something. Come on, let’s have it.’ ‘Well, you are a wish-frongle. Can’t I wish to know where Ainsley is?’ Zootfrog smiled kind of sadly. ‘No, Harlan. It doesn’t work that way. Every human has a set limit to magic and wishes. Once you’ve had a wish as big as a Kazillion Wish – even though you earned it – I’d have to go to the executive board to even try to give you a Piccolo Wish.’ ‘What’s a Piccolo Wish?’ It’s a tiny little wish, Harlan.’ ‘So wishing to have her safely back would be out of the question then, huh?’ ‘Safely delivered from mysterious kidnappers? I’d have to get my calculator out to calculate that one, so it’s no chance.’ ‘Can we wish for information about who took her?’ ‘Well . . . we might not even need a wish for that. We might just need to ask around. Come on. Climb aboard your pelican. Let’s head for the Bay.’ And they did – well, eventually. It took several dog biscuits and finally the promise of a ball-throwing session at Fruitfly Bay before Fly Dog the Magnificent would be convinced to fly on the back of a giant bird.

36


o 6

A Conversation with Your Own Mouth T

his was the worst Mystery Tour Zucchini Spacestation had ever been on. Actually it was the only Mystery Tour he had been on, but man, did it suck. A Mystery Tour had seemed like a good idea at the time. Buy a Mystery Tour ticket that might take you anywhere at all – Disneyland, Paris, Africa, New York, Uluru, Hawaii, China . . . Zucchini didn’t even tell his cousin, Zanzibar, that he needed a break. He just signed up and handed over his money. But it wasn’t at all what he had expected. Zucchini hadn’t counted on being dumped on a different planet, after a long, extremely unpleasant flight, and he had no idea how to find the luxurious holiday resort mentioned in the brochure that came with his Mystery Tour ticket. So now Zucchini Spacestation was walking aimlessly along a Martian street, bored. Then he looked in a shop window and saw a pair of screaming scissors attacking a gherkin. That was interesting. Zucchini peered through the glass and saw that the shop had several sections, including a hairdresser, a café, a minigolf course where all the holes were halfway up the wall, and an entire room mysteriously full of large rocks. 37


Thanks a Kazillion At last, an adventure! Zucchini walked into the hairdresser’s salon and sat in the only available chair. Actually, that’s only kind of true: there was just one chair in the shop, so he sat in that. Eventually a very, very, very old Martian in a white coat emerged from a back room. He was as bald as an egg and had a hunched back. His four arms dangled from giant round shoulders, and he peered out from under his forehead at the Bow. The hairdresser’s tentacles waved sluggishly around behind him. ‘You want a haircut?’ the old Martian asked in a raspy metallic voice. ‘Yes, please,’ said Zucchini. ‘You’ll need to take off your hat,’ said the hairdresser. ‘Is your name Sigmund?’ Zucchini asked as he removed his hat. ‘No,’ said the hairdresser. ‘Gusolph?’ ‘No.’ ‘Keldrick?’ ‘No.’ ‘Olivier?’ The hairdresser thought for a while, then said, ‘No.’ ‘Okay, I give up. What’s your name?’ ‘Magnus,’ said the hairdresser. ‘And I’ve cut the hair of Bows before, so I’m not going to ask your name and let you go into one of those ridiculous Bow introductions.’ ‘Rats,’ said Zucchini. ‘Oh well, I’m Zucchini.’ ‘Nice to meet you, Zucchini. How would you like your hair?’ ‘Toasted with a light side salad please,’ said Zucchini. ‘Hilarious,’ said Magnus the Martian hairdresser. ‘Long or short?’ 38


A Conversation with Your Own Mouth ‘Magnum,’ said Zucchini very seriously. ‘I want to be completely bald, but with curls.’ ‘It’s Magnus, not Magnum. How can you be bald with curls?’ ‘I didn’t say the curls would have to be on my head.’ ‘I don’t do curls on chins, Bow. That’s the way it is.’ ‘Okay, then, Magnate. I want my blue chin-hair to have ringlets and spikes and no curls.’ ‘It’s Magnus. How can you have ringlets without curls?’ ‘Plus I want you to cut my hair, but without using scissors.’ ‘What?’ said the hairdresser. ‘No scissors, Magnet! I want you to cut my hair with your teeth!’ ‘Hmm,’ said Magnus. ‘And, by the way, it’s Magnus.’ ‘Magnut, there’s one more thing.’ ‘Uh oh.’ ‘I don’t want you in the same room as me, Magnesium. You have to cut my hair from a different room. It’s the way we Bows like to get our hair cut.’ ‘I know, I know. I’ve met Bows, like I said.’ Magnus hunched and thought for a while. ‘So, let me get this straight. You want me to cut your hair from the other room, using my teeth, not scissors. You also want ringlets and spikes, but no curls and not on your head where you want to be completely bald.’ ‘Plus, I want a moustache, Magoo . . . but on the back of my head !’ Zucchini shrieked. The hairdresser stared at him, then shrugged. ‘No problem. And it’s Magnus.’ He went to work. A few minutes later, a completely bald Zucchini Spacestation strutted out of the hairdresser section and into the 39


Thanks a Kazillion food section. But the happiness he felt about his haircut disappeared as he looked sadly at the menu. There were only two options: gherkins or porridge. Zucchini absolutely hated porridge. Loathed it. Detested it. Disliked it a lot. Any other words you can think of that mean, ‘Yuck!’ – that’s what Zucchini thought of porridge. In fact, come to think of it, there was only one food that Zucchini hated more than porridge. And that was gherkins. ‘Rats,’ he said. So now he was eating porridge and it would be fair to say that he was not enjoying himself. Even the sight of an enormous Martian duck being chased down the street by three tiny weeny Martian horses didn’t cheer him up. ‘Boy, do I hate porridge,’ he muttered in his crazy French accent as he scooped another spoonful towards his very unenthusiastic mouth. ‘I know you hate porridge too, mouth, but it’s all there is.’ ‘Excuse me, but are you talking to your own mouth?’ the waiter asked, walking by. ‘Hey, it’s not so easy, but then again, I am a Bow. We’re pretty remarkable creatures,’ Zucchini said. ‘Maybe you should try our gherkin omelette,’ the waiter said. ‘Err, no thanks,’ Zucchini said, horrified. ‘Do you have ladybird milkshakes?’ ‘No, sorry,’ said the waiter. ‘Not half as sorry as I am.’ ‘By the way,’ said the waiter. ‘Nice haircut.’ ‘Thanks.’ ‘I particularly like the moustache on the back of your bald head.’ ‘Your hairdresser, Magnet, did it with his teeth!’ ‘His name is Magnus. Are they blue ringlets I see?’ 40


A Conversation with Your Own Mouth ‘They sure are!’ Zucchini bounced up and down. ‘Can you see the spikes, too?’ Zucchini was so happy he ate another mouthful of the horrible porridge. While he was slowly chewing, he noticed two Martians at a nearby table. One was wearing a skimpy leather outfit and lots and lots of beads. There was a spear leaning against the wall behind him. The other Martian was wearing a blond wig and cone-shaped hat that had two enormous horns sticking out of either side. His shirt was sky blue with a big yellow cross on the front. Zucchini beamed. ‘Hey, hey, hey, hey, hey! You are in fancy dress. Golden crest. Zing and zest. Boring chess.’ He bounced in his seat. ‘Are you going to a party? Can I come? Can I borrow your spear? Do you ever put marshmallows on those horns on your hat? Is my Mystery Tour finally on track? Are you staying at Happy Harry’s Haven for Hectic Holiday Happenings? Could I ask any more questions? Who are you guys?’ The pair stared at Zucchini, then glanced at one another. ‘Hello,’ said the one with the beads. ‘You seem to have the wrong idea. We’re just everyday, absolutely genuine, 100 per cent authentic African and Swedish gentlemen having breakfast and minding our own business.’ ‘Except that you’re Martians,’ Zucchini smiled happily. ‘I beg your pardon? Why do you think I’m from Mars?’ the creature asked, waving his four hands around and dislodging his spear. ‘Well, Mr Martian? Could it be because you’re so obviously a Martian? A genuine five-legged, four-armed, antennapacked, crazy, silly, weird, strange, bizarre, pathetic, loopy, zany Martian.’ ‘Excuse me, but did you say “pathetic”?’ asked the one with the beads. 41


Thanks a Kazillion ‘Did I say “pathetic”? I’m sorry, I meant to say “completely nuts”,’ said Zucchini, still smiling broadly. ‘Speaking of Martians, do you know Larry and Kelroy? Fun Martians. Travel a lot. Like to fly WAY TOO FAST!’ The Martian shrugged. ‘I’m from Kenya, in Africa. Do they sound like Kenyan names? I do not think so. Therefore I do not know them.’ ‘What about you, Mr Swedish Martian?’ The Kenyan’s companion looked uncomfortable and almost spoke, but then stayed silent. ‘Ah, Swedish doesn’t speak much English because he’s spent so much of his life in Sweden,’ said the Kenyan Martian. ‘Of course he has. If you’re from Africa, you’d know about the drink called a Muddy Puddle.’ ‘No,’ said the one with the beads. ‘It’s orange juice and cola in the same glass!’ said Zucchini. ‘That’s ridiculous.’ ‘So ridiculous that it’s true,’ said Zucchini, grinning. Zucchini shrugged and turned his back on them, hunching back over his horrible porridge. Crazy Martians. Still, he planned to follow them when they left the café, to see if they were heading back to Happy Harry’s Haven for Hectic Holiday Happenings. The only mystery element of this Mystery Tour had been in not knowing where he was or what was happening. These two strange Martians were his best lead yet. As he tried to force himself to eat another mouthful of porridge, Zucchini heard the two Martians whispering urgently. ‘I’m telling you. Operation Skippy is important. The girl has to help or Worldly is going to do something drastic,’ said the Kenyan Martian. ‘Like what?’ It was the Swede, speaking as though his 42


A Conversation with Your Own Mouth mouth was full of marbles. Very full of marbles. ‘I hate to think. If the Earth Martians can’t cover every continent, then he might decide to get rid of Earth altogether.’ ‘He’d do that? Just because Operation Skippy went wrong?’ ‘He might even do worse. You know he’s built a Universal Mega Death Vapour-Bubble Bomb, don’t you?’ The Swede gasped. ‘No!’ ‘It makes me very uneasy. I want to rule all of Africa after the invasion. I don’t want it destroyed.’ ‘A Universal Mega Death Vapour-Bubble Bomb isn’t what I signed up for. We have to speak to Worldly!’ ‘You’re braver than me if you dare. Maybe we could get the Continental Six together for a private meeting.’ ‘Good idea. But now, we’d better get back. I’ve got my Viking troops to train and your Earth Martians aren’t going to turn into fierce Kenyan tribesmen by themselves.’ The pair put some Martian money on their plates and stood to leave. As they passed Zucchini the Kenyan Martian leant in close and said, ‘You never saw us. Okay?’ Zucchini shivered. ‘Never ever, ever. And I certainly didn’t hear you mention Operation Skippy.’ The pair froze. ‘Shhhh!’ Zucchini was bouncing and mumbling, ‘Skippy. Pippy. Lippy. Hippy. Yippee! Bippy. Dippy. Tippee.’ ‘A secret!’ said the Swedish Martian. ‘Oh yeah, sure. As secret as the stars.’ The Swedish Martian stared at him. ‘The stars aren’t even a little bit secret!’ ‘Oh well, a very non-star-like secret, okay?’ The Swedish Martian came face-to-face with Zucchini; so close that the Bow could smell gherkin on the Martian’s breath. 43


Thanks a Kazillion ‘Listen, if you tell anyone about Operation Skippy, I’ll turn you into furniture, Mr Bow. Know what I mean?’ Zucchini thought about it and then smiled happily. ‘No! I have no idea what you mean. Bye-eee.’ Zucchini hunched back over what was left of his porridge. ‘Sorry, mouth. There’s no other way to eat!’ he said. The Kenyan and Swedish Martians looked at one another, a little helplessly, then shrugged. Out on the street they paused to let an enormous duck waddle past with knee-high horses galloping along behind it.

44


P 7

Looking for Clues I

‘

’ve found our first clue!’ Zootfrog exclaimed. ‘Ainsley’s room has been ransacked.’ Harlan poked his head in the door of his sister’s bedroom, trying not to notice the sign on the door that read: ‘Girls only. No boys – especially Harlan – allowed’. There were clothes and socks and toys and books and pencils and pictures scattered from wall to wall, almost covering the entire floor. Drawers were half open with shirts and jeans tumbling out, and shoes spilled from an open cupboard. Fly spotted a tennis ball in the mess, and pounced on it, accidentally brushing her bottom against a yellow sticky note, with ‘Kick me’ written on it. Harlan remembered with a pang that Ainsley had tried three times to stick the note on his bum, but now it made him sad rather than grumpy. ‘It’s not a clue, Zootfrog. Her room always looks like this.’ Zootfrog hovered above the mess, darting this way and that like a golden firefly. ‘Wow! Messy kid. Her schoolbag is here, so she definitely came home from school.’ Harlan went down the hall to the kitchen. ‘There’s no yoghurt left in the fridge, so she had a snack.’ 45


Thanks a Kazillion While they poked around the house, Harlan kept forgetting that he didn’t need to tiptoe around. He could have practised drums in his father’s room and not woken him. Under a frongle fog, humans could sleep for weeks, then wake and not even realise their eyes had been closed. Harlan was briefly jealous of his father’s magical sleep – Spencer had no idea that Ainsley had even been kidnapped. There was a knock on the door. Fly bounded over and sniffed curiously at the bottom of the door. Zootfrog and Harlan stared at one another and Zootfrog, wide-eyed, mouthed the words, ‘Mr Shadow?’ Harlan whispered, ‘Fly, is it Mr Shadow?’ Fly’s nose was working overtime. ‘I don’t think so. It doesn’t smell like black. It smells like exhaust fumes.’ ‘Yuck!’ Harlan crept to the door and opened it a crack. Then he swung it wide open. There, smiling broadly, was a Bow. His head barely reached Harlan’s chest, even though he was standing on a fancy twelve-wheel skateboard. ‘I’ll have you know that we City Bows are very proud of our unique exhaust fume scent,’ said Wandiligong Skyscraper. ‘And look, I’m getting the hang of my skateboard. Any day now, I plan to try to stand on it while it moves! Anyway, taa daa!!!!!!!!’ ‘Taa daa?’ Harlan said. ‘Taa daa what?’ Wandiligong looked uncomfortable, shifting his feet on the skateboard. ‘Just “taa daa” as in: “Hey look, it’s me! Isn’t that great?”’ Zootfrog was peering over Harlan’s shoulder, wings softly purring as she hovered. ‘Who’s this?’ Wandiligong’s eyes lit up. ‘Ah ha!!!!’ he screeched. ‘Allllllllooow me to introduce myself!!!!! W is for Watermelons. 46


Looking for Clues A is for Aardvarks. N is for Nostrils. D is for Dastardly – actually, no, D is for Desktop, or maybe Disaster or Dribbling.’ ‘Cut it out!’ Harlan snapped. ‘We haven’t got time for a Bow intro. Zootfrog, this is Wandiligong Skyscraper, a City Bow. Wandiligong, this is Zootfrog, one of the leading frongles in the Fruitfly Bay Frongle Collective.’ ‘What can we do for you, Wandiligong?’ Zootfrog asked. ‘Ah ha! Ah ha ha ha! Maybe, indeed, it’s a matter of what I can do for you?’ The Bow bounced up and down, so excited he might burst. ‘Do you know where Ainsley is?’ ‘Who’s Ainsley?’ ‘Goodbye,’ Harlan said, pushing the door closed. Wandiligong shoved back the other way. ‘Wait! Wait! Wait wait wait wait wait! Maybe I do know where she is.’ ‘You do?’ ‘No.’ ‘Goodbye.’ ‘Wait wait wait wait wait . . .’ ‘What?’ ‘I do know where some Martians are.’ They all stared at one another. ‘Goodbye,’ said Harlan for the last time. Wandiligong’s skateboard had rolled forward to stop the door closing and Harlan gave the Bow a gentle push backwards so he could slam the door. Harlan’s last image was of Wandiligong’s eyes growing wide as he rolled backwards, gathering momentum on the small slope of the path that led away from the house. ‘Yeeeaaaaaaaaah,’ they heard from outside the closed door, and then a crash. Harlan opened the door. ‘Sorry!’ he called. 47


Thanks a Kazillion ‘I have everything completely, utterly, totally and not even slightly under control,’ Wandiligong yelled back. ‘I’m just having a little lie down. Don’t worry about me.’ Harlan closed the door again and they kept searching the house but it was no good, there were no clues. Harlan wandered back into his sister’s room, stopping only to tear down and crumple the stupid sign about ‘no boys’. Sitting on the windowsill was a neat row of pot plants with tiny buds pushing up out of the soil. While Harlan had been researching game shows for his media project, Ainsley’s class had been learning about biology, and she had become completely obsessed with growing her own flowers. Every day for two weeks, she’d carefully watered and tended these pots, making sure they were positioned for just the right amount of sun, but not too much. For some reason, the pot plants made Harlan miss her terribly, and his heart almost broke right there. He went to the kitchen, filled a small jug, and carefully poured just the right amount onto each pot plant, until there was a small puddle of water in the saucer beneath each pot. Harlan went into the lounge room and lay slumped on the couch, staring at the blank face of the television. ‘Oh Ainsley, where are you?’ Zootfrog flew quietly into the room and sat next to him on the couch. ‘There’s only one thing I can think of to do,’ she said. ‘We’re going to have to ask the spiders.’ ‘The spiders?’ ‘Sure, you think they don’t see what goes on in the human world? Sitting up there quietly, day after day, in their webs. How about it, fellas? Can you help?’ Harlan glanced up at the corner of the ceiling, where thick webs hung, drifting in a slight breeze from the vents. One thing was for sure, nobody in this house was good at dusting. 48


Looking for Clues Zootfrog hovered at about head height, looking around the room. ‘Come on, my eight-legged friends. We could use some help.’ Silence. ‘It’s the human’s sister we’re concerned for.’ Silence. ‘If she was taken from here, you must have seen something. Please help us.’ Fly barked. ‘Come on, you eight-legged freaks! We’re talking to you!’ ‘You’re not helping, Fly,’ said Zootfrog out of the corner of her mouth. More silence. Harlan was worried that maybe, just maybe, Zootfrog was losing the plot. He was already pretty sure that Fly had never had the plot. Then a tiny, thin voice from a crack in the wall said, ‘Why should we help?’ Zootfrog said softly, ‘Because Harlan’s sister may be in danger.’ ‘I don’t remember any – hehehe – humans ever looking out for us,’ said another tiny voice. This time Harlan could see the speaker. It was a daddy longlegs spider, hanging onto the lampshade. The spidery voices were wispy and they kept breaking into high-pitched giggles. Fly dropped her ball and stood between Harlan and the lampshade, in full Tack Dog mode. Her tail stood straight up in the air, and the yellow sticky note was stuck firmly onto the fur underneath. ‘This is not a time for grudges,’ Zootfrog said. ‘Why not? This kid tried to – hehehe – drown my cousin, Mitch, in the bath. Mitch only just got out alive before the water level got him.’ ‘Just because Harlan turned on a tap doesn’t mean he was trying to drown your cousin. He might not have seen 49


Thanks a Kazillion Mitch.’ Zootfrog’s voice was still soft and gentle as she tried to calm the spider’s anger. ‘Yeah, well, what about when his sister threw my boy, Matthew, into the laundry basket – hehehe – with a pile of dirty clothes? He could have been killed!’ said a small black spider in the corner of the ceiling. ‘And what about what their dad did to my great uncle?’ said a large, gangly huntsman spider, crawling out of the air conditioning vent. ‘I can’t bear to even think of it, let alone say it. Hehehe.’ The spider stifled a sob. ‘Listen, I agree that humans and spiders could learn to live together better, but Harlan and his family are not bad people. They do not mean harm, do you, Harlan?’ Harlan glanced awkwardly around the room. He could feel eyes on him from all directions. He’d never noticed how many creatures lived in his house. He felt like he was standing in front of a huge audience. Fly remained on high alert. ‘Spiders, for anything my family or I have done to you or your families and friends, I apologise. Humans can get scared of spiders and sometimes when we’re scared, we don’t behave in a very brave or considerate manner.’ ‘Scared?’ said a tiny money spider. ‘Hehehe.’ This time it was an actual laugh. ‘Hehehe. Humans scared of us? Hehehe, look at the size of you.’ ‘Well, maybe not scared of you . . . no offence,’ Harlan said. ‘But spiders can be frightening to us. The poison from funnel-web spiders and red-back spiders can kill people.’ ‘It can!’ said a self-important spider under the couch. ‘Tarantulas are huge and scary. And I’ve heard of a spider in the jungle that catches birds!’ Harlan continued, warming to his theme. A murmur went up around the room. 50


Looking for Clues ‘He’s – hehehe – making that up,’ said a voice behind the television. ‘Wow, how cool is that? Catches birds! Hehehe. I’d love to meet that spider,’ said another voice. ‘Plus humans can be hurt by trapdoor spiders, and black widow spiders, and white-tailed spiders and lots of other spiders.’ Harlan continued. ‘You might not mean to hurt us, but it can happen. The same is true for us, and I’m sorry if my family has hurt any of you or your relatives.’ Harlan looked around at the eyes he knew were now on him. ‘One thing I can promise. If you will help us; if you will tell us who took my sister, I will talk to my family and we will promise never to knowingly injure a spider in this house ever again.’ There was a long silence. Zootfrog hovered, wings purring, and gave Harlan a slight nod of encouragement. Fly wagged her tail. Finally, a small orange spider said, ‘Do you promise?’ ‘Absolutely,’ said Harlan. ‘I can’t guarantee that we will never hurt a spider . . . sometimes you are too small to see – I don’t think our eyes are as good as yours – or you might be in a place we are not expecting you to be. But if we see a spider, we will treat you with respect.’ ‘Well, that – hehehe – seems fair,’ a small green spider said to the daddy longlegs next to him. ‘Yeah, you can’t ask for more than that, can you?’ replied the daddy longlegs. ‘He seems like a nice kid, really . . . I mean – hehehe – you know, for a human,’ said another spider. ‘I don’t know if we can trust him,’ said another. Zootfrog and Harlan glanced at one another. ‘As a sign of good faith, let me do something for you now,’ said Harlan. He walked through to the dining room 51


Thanks a Kazillion and slid open the glass door leading to the backyard. He left it wide open and even before he had returned to the lounge room, a couple of flies had buzzed into the house from outside. Fly the dog hurtled the other way, carrying a tennis ball into the backyard. The spiders rejoiced. ‘Flies! Hehehe! You beauty!’ ‘Can you leave that door open – hehehe – all the time?’ ‘Not all the time,’ Harlan said grinning. ‘But as often as I can, I promise.’ ‘Oh yeah, don’t worry about us,’ said a fly, buzzing past Harlan’s ear. ‘Huh?’ Harlan said, looking left and right. From outside, Fly called, ‘Who wants to throw a ball?’ Zootfrog flew nearer the roof. ‘So, spiders, can you help us?’ ‘No,’ said a large spider now clearly visible near the ceiling fan. Zootfrog swung to face the spider, almost nose-to-nose as she hovered. ‘No? What do you mean, no? What more do you want?’ The spider lifted two of its front legs in defence. ‘No, you’ve got it wrong. I don’t mean – hehehe – we don’t want to help. It’s just that we didn’t see who took the girl.’ ‘Oh,’ said Zootfrog. ‘No-one saw a thing?’ ‘No. Hehehe, it’s a web of intrigue.’ ‘Not – hehehe – a web of deception.’ ‘Or a web of – hehehe – lies.’ ‘Maybe a web of – hehehe – the wide world though.’ The spider who had said no shifted to its left and turned upside-down to look at Zootfrog. ‘No spiders in this room can – hehehe – help you. The spider most likely to have seen anything is Edwina, over there at the entrance to the hall. She has a – hehehe – good view of the door.’ 52


Looking for Clues Edwina was a small black spider with a long body and green spots. ‘I’ll help if I can,’ she promised. ‘I’m not sure that I can tell you much though. Two people knocked at the – hehehe – door. One was wearing a cowboy hat and the other one was dressed completely in white and – hehehe – had steam coming off him.’ ‘Steam?’ Harlan asked. ‘Yes, – hehehe – steam,’ said Edwina. ‘Are you sure?’ ‘Of course. I know steam when I see it. It was just the same as when steam rises off the grass after it’s – hehehe – rained and then the sun comes out.’ ‘Evaporation,’ said Harlan, and looked at Zootfrog. ‘An evaporating person,’ she frowned. ‘And a cowboy hat. What happened after Ainsley opened the door, Edwina?’ ‘She said, “Hi, are you friends of – ” and then there was a loud noise like a zoom. A voice said, “Come with us,” and – hehehe – the girl walked out of the house as though her arms and legs were – hehehe – stiff.’ Everybody considered this information. ‘Hey, I’ve got a ball out here!’ yelled Fly from the backdoor. Harlan shook his head. ‘I don’t know what this means.’ ‘I wish I could help more,’ said Edwina. ‘You didn’t notice anything else that was unusual about the people at the door?’ ‘Nothing – hehehe – unusual, no.’ ‘Did I mention my ball?’ asked Fly from outside. At that moment, there was a loud thump on the door. Everybody jumped and a few of the spiders scrambled out of sight, legs going in all directions. ‘I bet it’s that City Bow again,’ said Harlan. ‘Why does he keep bothering us?’ 53


Thanks a Kazillion ‘Maybe he’ll throw a ball for me. You two are hopeless,’ grumbled Fly, stalking back inside. Harlan marched over to the door and swung it open. A large creature dressed utterly and completely in black, with inky black depths of black where its face should have been, swung a long, thin hand up to point at Zootfrog and said, ‘You! YOU!’ Zootfrog screamed and bolted out the backdoor. ‘Not again,’ thought Harlan, slamming the door in Mr Shadow’s face as Fly galloped off after the fast-disappearing frongle. Harlan ran for the backdoor, then stopped and said, ‘Thank you so much for your help, spiders. I won’t forget it, I promise.’ ‘Just leave the backdoor open,’ said a tiny voice. Harlan did, and bolted off after the large cream dog. In the lounge room, the spiders happily watched flies and bugs zooming around the room. ‘Hey, Edwina,’ said the large spider near the ceiling fan. ‘Should you – hehehe – have mentioned that the people who took the girl had at least as many legs and arms as we do?’ ‘What’s unusual about eight or nine arms and legs? They only asked if I had noticed anything unusual,’ Edwina shrugged. ‘Fair enough,’ said the spider, and started work on a new web. ‘By the way,’ said the large huntsman. ‘Did you notice the sign on the butt of the talking dog? It said, “Kick me”!’ ‘I know,’ said the ceiling-fan spider. ‘That’s – hehehe – what we were all laughing at!’

54


N 8

A Martian Australian? A

insley was sitting on the floor of her prison cell, as far away as she could get from the horrible plant which had attacked her again in the night the moment she couldn’t stay awake any longer. She was staring out the window when she heard the jangle of keys, followed by clicking and clunking in the mass of locks. Then the door swung open and Mexican, the Martian, walked in, wearing his sombrero hat, a hand-woven stripey vest and his droopy moustache. ‘Hola!’ he cried. ‘You might remember that this means “Hello” in Mexican.’ ‘If you were Mexican, I might care,’ Ainsley said. ‘I’m so sick of being locked up. I want to kick a hole in that stupid hat of yours.’ ‘Well, that’s not very polite,’ said Mexican, frowning. Mexican was joined by another Martian who was dressed head-to-toe in white, with what looked like snowflakes hanging off his shirt and pants. He was wearing white face paint, bracelets and a necklace made of ice, and had pointy stalagmites sticking up out of his head as hair. When he moved his head, flakes of snow fell from his hair, like dandruff, and small wisps of steam rose 55


Thanks a Kazillion from his body. His teeth were chattering too, as if he’d been caught in a winter rain and was freezing. ‘Who are you?’ asked Ainsley. ‘You look kind of familiar.’ ‘I’m Antarctican,’ said the snowy Martian, a stammer in his cold, wheezy voice. ‘Say, what?’ The Mexican shrugged. ‘We just call him Ice. It’s easier.’ ‘I prefer to be called Antarctican,’ said the icy white Martian. Ainsley frowned. ‘Antarctican what?’ ‘Just Antarctican.’ Mexican shrugged again. ‘Like I said: Ice.’ Ice and Ainsley stared at one another. The temperature in the room had dropped since Ice arrived and Ainsley shivered. ‘Well, Ice, Snowy, Frozen-face . . . I don’t care. All that matters is you’re one of the ones who snatched me. So you had better have come to let me go.’ ‘Nice try, Señorita, but no. The Boss, he wants to see you, amigo girl.’ Mexican looked serious. ‘The Boss! There’s a boss! Well, take me to him, sombrero brain! I can’t wait. I’ll start by telling him what I think of child-kidnapping. Then I’ll move on to how I’ve been locked up. Then we’ll discuss the killer plant he left in my cell. Then I’ll quite possibly beat him up for all the worry he must be causing my family! Where is he?’ ‘If I were you, I’d be just a little more scared, seester,’ Mexican said. ‘Yes, I wouldn’t do any of that if I was you, Earth girl,’ said Antarctican. ‘Sí, not such a great idea,’ Mexican agreed. Ainsley crossed her arms defiantly. ‘I’m not afraid of you and I’m not afraid of your boss.’ 56


A Martian Australian? Mexican chuckled. ‘We’ll find out. Let’s go, amigo.’ They walked in single file down a corridor, which had more windows overlooking the strange scenery outside. Ainsley was alert for any opportunity to escape. It was tough though: she could feel Ice’s freezing breath on the back of her neck, so she knew he was close. Ahead of her, Mexican whistled some strange Central American song. It sounded oddly like a Martian version of the Chicken Dance. They went past several rooms with ferns like the one in her cell, while other rooms had lots of chairs, and some had blackboards. Stuck to the walls were huge photos. There was a photo of picnickers in the English countryside. There was another of a group of Russians wearing fur hats, gathered in Red Square in Moscow. There were several glossy prints of Greek villagers sitting at small tables outside white-walled villas. The photos all looked as though the people in them didn’t know they were being photographed. Then Ainsley walked past a room with a large barred door. She just managed to catch a glimpse of what was inside the room before a cloud of snow drifted past her face and an icy-cold hand shoved her in the back to keep her moving. But the glimpse had been enough. Ainsley’s face went as pale as Antartican’s, and she had to take a few deep breaths to help her stay calm. They passed a large room with a huge map of planet Earth that showed seven large areas, each shaded a different colour. ‘Wait,’ said Ainsley, ‘I need to tie my shoelace.’ She crouched and covered her shoe so Ice, blowing fridge-breath down her neck, couldn’t see that her shoelace wasn’t undone. As she fumbled with her laces, Ainsley had a good look at the map. She’d learnt about the Earth in geography at school, and she knew that the shaded areas were the different continents. 57


Thanks a Kazillion Who would have thought Ainsley would ever actually need any of the boring stuff Ms Grassmuncher had taught her last year! But now the knowledge came back to Ainsley in a flood. She had done an assignment on this. She had learned that the Earth has seven landmasses, called continents. North America, South America, Europe, Asia, Antarctica, Africa and Australia. On the Martians’ Earth map, one country in each continent was circled. In Europe, Sweden was circled; in Asia, Japan was circled; in Africa, Kenya was circled; in North America, the south-west region of the United States was circled; in South America, Brazil was circled, and the word ‘Brazil’ was crossed out and ‘Mexico’ was written above it in crayon. The whole continent of Antarctica had a huge blue circle around it, and in the middle of Australia there was a big question mark. Ainsley was staring at that question mark over her continent when Ice shoved her roughly in the back again. ‘Come on,’ he said, teeth chattering. ‘Keep moving. I get colder when we stop.’ Finally they arrived at another enormous door and as Mexican opened it for her he said softly, ‘In you go, Señorita. Don’t be doing anything stupido, no?’ Ainsley gave him a grumpy scowl. The room had massive windows letting in bright orange light. There were a few large couches – really large couches – at one end of the room, and an enormous old antique desk made of beautiful wood, but it was about five times bigger than any desk Ainsley had ever seen. And standing right in front of her were four very odd-looking Martians. Ainsley blinked repeatedly as she took in the sight of the Swedish and Kenyan Martians. Next to them was a 58


A Martian Australian? Martian with five bare feet, dressed in a white martial arts uniform with a big red circle in the middle of his chest. He had a ridiculous black wig sticking awkwardly out from under a triangle-shaped hat made of bamboo. He looked freaky, but the Martian standing next to him made Ainsley laugh out loud. He was wearing a cowboy outfit, including a cowboy hat, a vest with a big shiny sheriff star on it, and a red scarf around his neck. All five legs had cowboy boots with spurs so that he clanked when he walked. Mexican and Ice joined the other four and they all struck a pose, like a boy band or the Powerpuff Girls after a big victory. ‘Well howdy, little lady,’ said the cowboy in a broad American accent. ‘Welcome to our ranch.’ ‘You’ve got to be kidding,’ Ainsley said, still giggling. ‘Godzilla! She dares to laugh at us,’ said the martial arts Martian in the worst fake accent she had yet heard among her captors. ‘Well, have you seen your hair?’ Ainsley said. ‘Hey, leave Japa-sneeze alone. He’s very proud of his thick, healthy hair,’ said the Swedish Martian. Ainsley looked at the martial arts Martian again. ‘Japasneeze? Why are you called Japa-sneeze?’ ‘Karate! Nagasaki! I am called that because I AM Japa-sneeze, of course!’ ‘You mean Japanese?’ ‘Origami! That is what I said!’ ‘This just gets better and better,’ said Ainsley, shaking her head. ‘Pardon me, ma’am?’ said the cowboy. ‘I don’t believe I heard you right.’ ‘And what would your name be?’ Ainsley asked. 59


Thanks a Kazillion ‘Allow me to introduce myself. My name is American,’ said the cowboy. ‘Oh, your name is American? Let’s see, is it Hamburger?’ ‘Well, shoot. No, I said my name is American.’ ‘Rodeo? Hiphop? New York? Gridiron? Baseball? Coke?’ ‘Well, just hang on there, little lady. I do believe you may have the wrong end of the rope. I’m American, and this is Swedish, and Kenyan – or Ken, for short – and Antarctican, also known as Ice. I believe you already know Mexican. Together, we’re the Continental Six.’ All six Martians posed theatrically, as though expecting theme music to start playing, but a boy superhero called Lightning Rod was the only person Ainsley knew who had his own theme music. The Continental Six just looked like a bunch of silly Martians playing dress-ups. ‘Well, it’s been fun,’ Ainsley said. ‘I’ll be going now. Bye.’ ‘I’m not sure you understand the situation, ma’am. I’m afraid you aren’t at liberty to go.’ ‘Oh, that’s right, Mr American Martian. You’ve kidnapped me! Stolen me from my home. I have one question: why, and where am I?’ The cowboy Martian chuckled. ‘I think you’ll find that’s two questions, chickadee, but that’s okay. You’ve got a right to know why we invited you along here to our little ranch.’ Ainsley’s arms were folded. ‘It’s not a ranch and you didn’t invite me. I was forced here and I’m being held a prisoner.’ The Kenyan Martian looked pained. ‘They’re awfully strong words to use, Miss Banana. Why don’t we have a pleasant little chat before we start making accusations?’ ‘Okay, talk. Why am I here?’ 60


A Martian Australian? ‘To meet the Boss. He’s Worldly.’ ‘You mean his name is Worldly?’ Japa-sneeze nodded. ‘That is right. Sushi! Worldly is our glorious leader who is preparing us to take our rightful place as rulers of all Earth’s continents.’ ‘Your rightful place?’ ‘Worldly says that Martians once lived on Earth. He says he is taking us to our homeland, the place our ancestors lived, before they found themselves stuck on the red dust of Mars,’ Ice said. ‘Personally, I think it’s warmer on Phobos.’ ‘This guy isn’t a buddy of those underwater fishface creeps, is he? They were last year’s take-over-the-Earth losers.’ ‘He has befriended a strange creature called the Lord of Bark,’ said Ice. ‘They have spoken often about Worldly’s plan.’ ‘I’ll bet they have,’ said Ainsley. ‘I should have known he’d be friends with a bunch of clowns.’ ‘Beware your tongue, Miss Banana,’ said Swedish. ‘Worldly does not suffer fools.’ ‘Well, what are you lot doing here then?’ ‘Sumo! The girl has an attitude that will bring her trouble!’ Japa-sneeze yelled. ‘No more trouble than you’ll be in when I escape.’ ‘I think that is unlikely. If you value your life, I’d tread more carefully in front of the Boss.’ ‘So when do I get to meet El Supremo?’ Mexican said. ‘Just turn around, Señorita. Here comes the chief amigo now.’ Ainsley spun around just as the giant door at the end of the room swung open, as though by itself, and there stood a huge, giant-shouldered Martian. He was at least twice as 61


Thanks a Kazillion big as any Martian Ainsley had ever seen and he wore a toga and sandals, like an old Greek god. He even had a long flowing beard – the first facial hair Ainsley had ever seen on a Martian, apart from Mexican’s fake moustache. ‘Worldly?’ She shook her head. ‘You look more like Atlas, that Greek guy who carried the world on his shoulders. You’ve got to decide on your image.’ The massive Martian’s mouth bent strangely and Ainsley realised he was smiling. ‘I know you are trying to insult me, Australian girl, but in fact, you are not far from the truth,’ said Worldly, in a voice that was like a robot’s, as all the Martians sounded, but much deeper and louder. ‘Like Atlas, the fabled Greek hero of whom you speak, I also carry the hopes of all the continents on my shoulders. The Americas, Asia, Antarctica, Europe, Africa . . . I carry them all.’ American had an enormous fixed grin on his face. ‘You sure do, Mr Boss Man. And we appreciate it one heck of a lot.’ The others looked a little pale in the presence of their leader – especially Ice, who, let’s face it, was snowy white to start with. Worldly stared at Ainsley. ‘Miss Banana. You have not been very co-operative thus far. I would suggest that you change your behaviour and help us.’ ‘Or what?’ Ainsley wavered as she had a sudden flashback to what she had seen in the room with bars on the door, but she tried to keep her brave face. Worldly said very quietly, ‘Or I shall set you free immediately.’ ‘Fantastic!’ said Ainsley, surprised. ‘Pardon?’ said Worldly. ‘So I can go then? Awesome.’ 62


A Martian Australian? Worldly frowned and then sighed. ‘Sorry, sorry. My mistake. Sometimes I get my grand statements a little wrong. What I meant to say was, “Or you will wish you had.” ’ ‘Listen, Mr Worldly. I don’t know what you’ve got going on here but I want out. You took me from my home, and my family will be worried sick. I don’t like being held prisoner and I particularly don’t like being locked in a room with killer plants. I usually try to be polite to people. I usually try to avoid arguments, but I’ve had enough and I want to go home. Now!’ The Continental Six shrank back against a wall, and Worldly’s skin turned red. A very vivid shade of burning red. He took a deep breath and his whole body expanded, growing to twice the size of before. He loomed over Ainsley and she could feel electricity sparking in the air as his eyes became pits of blue fire. ‘I DO NOT CARE A MARTIAN HORSE WHETHER YOU LIKE IT OR NOT, MISS BANANA! YOU ARE MY CAPTIVE AND YOU ARE IN DANGER OF PAYING DEARLY FOR YOUR IMPERTINENCE.’ ‘Impertin-what?’ whispered Ken, quaking off to one side. ‘Impertinence. It means she’s been cheeky, pardner,’ whispered American. ‘Oh. Thanks,’ said Ken. ‘DO YOU UNDERSTAND ME, MISS BANANA?’ Worldly’s eyes burnt fiercely with blue fire. Ainsley gulped in terror. ‘I SAID: DO YOU UNDERSTAND ME?’ His voice shook the room. Ainsley nodded miserably. Worldly continued to glare at her but he lost a little of his size, deflating slowly like a football with a slow leak. 63


Thanks a Kazillion His voice was still an angry growl. ‘Listen to me and listen well, Australian girl. You WILL help us. You do not have choices. You will NOT be going home until we have what we need from you. Maybe then, you MIGHT go home. And you WILL watch your sharp little tongue or you will NOT like the results, I can promise you that.’ Ainsley found her voice. ‘Like those six filthy, scared, skinny kids I saw chained together in that horrible room with bars on the door?’ Worldly looked at her and laughed unpleasantly. ‘Ah, you mean the children from Mexico, the United States, Antarctica, Sweden, Kenya and Japan? No, Miss Banana, I do not mean like them. They are chained together with nothing but rotting gherkins to eat and dirty water to drink because they DID help us. As much as they could.’ In a very small voice, Ainsley said, ‘You got a kid from Antarctica?’ Worldly looked uncomfortable. ‘Yes, of course we did.’ ‘I’m only asking because, well, I didn’t think there were any children in Antarctica. I mean, it’s all ice. I thought only scientific researchers went there.’ Worldly shifted on his five webbed feet. ‘Actually, we got a kid from Cabo de Hornos.’ ‘Huh?’ said Ainsley. ‘It’s the southernmost point of South America – the closest people to Antarctica. Every bit as good as a genuine Antarctican kid.’ ‘Speaking of South America . . .’ It was as though Ainsley, although desperately frightened, was powerless to stop her mouth from yapping, annoying Worldly further. ‘Yes?’ The massive evil Martian glared at her. ‘Well, I was talking to Mexican earlier and I’m not sure 64


A Martian Australian? if you realise that Mexico is not actually part of the South American continent.’ Worldly turned red again and started to shake with anger. But Ainsley continued on, ‘Because Mexico is part of Central America. I just thought you might want to know.’ Why didn’t she just shut up? She was horrified at the way her mouth kept flapping. ‘Then again, it’s not a bad option for you guys because it would be easy to get to South America from Mexico – I mean, it’s right there on the South American doorstep, so you only have to head south and, err, cross the border into Nicaragua, or maybe it’s Guatemala? I think Panama is in there somewhere too before you get to Venezuela, or is it Colombia? Actually it might even be—’ ‘ENOUGH!!!!!!!!’ Worldly’s voice made the room shake and the lights flicker. Ainsley recoiled, terrified, and the Continental Six winced at their boss’s fury. Worldly leaned so close to Ainsley’s face that she could smell the gherkin on his foul breath. ‘If I have any more trouble from you, Miss Banana, the fate of those skinny chained children will be a dream compared to your misery.’ His eyes flashed blue fire once more and then returned to normal. ‘Now,’ Worldly said, in his calm voice. ‘I suppose you want some answers so you’ll understand why you’ve agreed to help us.’ Ainsley almost said that she hadn’t agreed – but finally had the sense to stay silent. Worldly flicked a switch and automatic curtains covered all the windows, the lights dimmed and a projection screen lowered from the ceiling. He flicked another switch and a map appeared on the screen. 65


Thanks a Kazillion ‘This is Earth,’ said Worldly importantly. ‘You can see all the continents are shaded. The Continental Six have been carefully chosen and trained to rule each continent once we take over the planet.’ The picture on the screen changed to show a mass of Martians dressed as Kenyan tribesmen, armed with spears. ‘Each of the Continental Six has in turn trained an army in their likeness so that we have thousands of highly skilled Kenyan tribesmen ready to conquer Africa,’ Worldly said, as the screen changed to show a posse of Martian cowboys. ‘Even more cowboys are poised to swarm all over the United States of America. Here you see our hardened fighting unit of Swedish Vikings which is set to crush Europe, and this is the brilliant swarm of icemen who will control Antarctica. And now on screen is our squadron of Japanese martial arts experts ready to take over Asia. All is in readiness and the people of Earth shall wilt before us.’ ‘Hola! Excuse me, Señor Bossman, do not go forgetting the Mexican bandits,’ said Mexican. The screen changed once more to show a bunch of ragged-looking Martians in stripey shirts and sombreros, waving and grinning at the camera. ‘Oh yes, of course,’ said Worldly, ‘and a band of Mexican bandits is ready to overthrow every country in South America.’ Ainsley felt sick and wondered how she could warn Zootfrog, and fast. She also began to see where she fitted in to all this. ‘You might notice that there is one continent that we do not yet have an army for,’ Worldly said, as though reading her mind. ‘Australia, the giant island, a lonely landmass to the south of Asia. We need your knowledge, as an 66


A Martian Australian? Australian – knowledge of the country, the people, the customs, the strengths and weaknesses of your nation, your continent.’ ‘So you can invade us?’ ‘Yes.’ ‘What happens to me if I help you?’ ‘Well, if you DO help us, there’s a chance your pathetic little township of Fruitfly Bay might not be wiped off the map.’ ‘And if I don’t help?’ Worldly grew bigger again and turned a light shade of red. ‘Then I shall give you a great deal of money and set you free.’ ‘You will?’ American whispered urgently in Worldly’s ear. ‘My mistake,’ said the leader. ‘Sorry, my mistake again. I have too many things in my head – what with organising an intergalactic invasion and everything. I meant to say that if you won’t help, then you can be sure that Fruitfly Bay will become a barren lifeless crater, much like Mars has become. And your family will be dust. And you – you in particular – you will be very, very, very sorry indeed.’ Ainsley gulped, despite herself, willing herself desperately not to cry. Worldly gave her a long, evil look. ‘Swedish,’ he said, ‘I think Miss Banana will be more than happy to start teaching Dwayne about Australia. Can you find Dwayne and then organise a room and some books? In the meantime, Kenyan, summon Gus. We need our best guard on this young lady every moment of the day. I don’t want any surprises.’ ‘Yes, Worldly. Sir. Your Highness,’ said Swedish, bowing unnecessarily. 67


Thanks a Kazillion Worldly gave Ainsley one last, withering glance and swung around, all four tentacles zooming wildly behind his back, and stalked off, slamming the door behind him. ‘Yep, that’s the Boss,’ said American. ‘Ain’t he just a heck of a guy?’ ‘A lovely man,’ agreed Swedish. ‘Bonsai! He’s an inspiring leader,’ nodded Japa-sneeze. ‘He’s a creep,’ said Ainsley. ‘Hey, Señorita, I told you not to get him angry, didn’t I?’ Mexican said. ‘You cannot be going around saying you were not warned.’ ‘Who’s Dwayne?’ Ainsley asked. ‘He’s an elite Martian soldier, just as we used to be,’ Ken said. ‘Very soon, once you have taught him what he needs to know, he will be “Australian” – the final member of the Continental Six!’ ‘Which will have to be renamed the Continental Seven,’ Ainsley said. ‘She is smart!’ Swedish said, shuffling to the door. ‘The Boss was right, yet again. It might take a couple of days to track down Dwayne. He’s been on a field trip, trying to learn how to hop like a kangaroo. I’ll send some Vikings to find him.’ ‘I’ll get Gus the Guard,’ said Ken, following him out of the room. Ainsley sank onto the giant couch, burying her face in her hands. Her head was swimming and she just wanted to be alone. It was like a nightmare but she knew she was wide awake. The remaining members of the Continental Six glanced at one another. American sat next to her on the couch. ‘Hey, little lady. I know the Boss can be gruff, especially before you get to know him, but all he wants is 68


A Martian Australian? your help, so don’t feel so blue. The Boss has been watching Earth for a long time. It’s a fascinating planet and he got hooked on the fact that Earthlings are so diverse, that you have so many different peoples and cultures and colours of skin and customs. A few of us started to get interested in his research and the next thing we knew, we’d formed a little posse that we call the Earth Martians, or EMs for short.’ Japa-sneeze took up the story. ‘So after sumo-sized study of the continents on your planet each EM adopted an identity. Glory is at hand. As you can see, I am the face of Asia. Tokyo! Sashimi!’ ‘And I’m one genuine American hoodaddy!’ American whooped. ‘But you don’t look anything like a real American and Japa-sneeze is not the least bit—’ ‘Well, hey hey hey hey hey!’ said the cowboy. ‘Hold your horses right there, little lady. Let’s not jump to conclusions. I put a lot of research into my American look. I watched hundreds of black and white American movies and an entire series of something called Bonanza. Lots of cowboys! I also studied an American movie called Toy Story II, which starred a cowboy called Woody and a whole bunch of cowboys just like me.’ Swedish nodded. ‘I based my look on comics about the heroic deeds of a hammer-wielding Swedish God called Thor. And I also took some tips from the way Swedish tennis fans dress.’ ‘I had nothing to work with but ice and snow,’ sniffed Antarctican, shivering and dripping melting frost on the floor. Just then, there was a knock on the door and a Martian cowboy walked in. 69


Thanks a Kazillion ‘Well howdy, dude,’ American said to his soldier. ‘Nice to see y’all.’ ‘Howdy, cowboy. What’s cooking?’ said the cowboy. ‘Darn straight,’ American nodded. ‘Straight’s cooking?’ said the cowboy, confused. ‘Doggone it, no.’ ‘The dog’s gone where, Sheriff?’ ‘Dang, no, it’s a figure of speech, darn it,’ said American. ‘You want me to darn your speech?’ said the cowboy. American sighed and confided to Ainsley, ‘Not all the troops are fluent in their new languages yet.’ ‘I know,’ said Ainsley, glancing at Japa-sneeze, who suddenly blurted, ‘Osaka! ’ American turned back to the cowboy EM. ‘What can we do for you, soldier?’ ‘We got ourselves an Earthling visitor, Boss,’ said the cowboy. ‘Says he’s some kind of hootenanny called a Bow. Seems to think our headquarters is a hotel called Happy Harry’s Haven for Hectic Holiday Happenings.’ ‘I’ve never heard of such a place. Send him on his way.’ ‘Well, dang, the thing is we tried to turn him away but he got himself just a teensy-weensy bit excited. Ice Two said I should come and ask you what to do.’ ‘American,’ said Kenyan, ‘why don’t we have a look at this creature? He’s from Earth, you say?’ ‘That’s what he told me, dude,’ the cowboy nodded. ‘What was his name again? Something weird, man, like Gherkin Starship.’ ‘Send him in.’ A minute later, the cowboy EM returned. Behind him was a Bow, wearing a purple hat and a frown. ‘Hey y’all. Nice to meet you,’ said American. ‘I’m American and my pardner here is Japa-sneeze.’ 70


A Martian Australian? Ainsley gasped. ‘Zucchini!’ Zucchini gave everybody a grin. ‘Hiya American! Hiya Japanese. Hiya strange Mexican Martian. Hiya even stranger icy Martian whose clothes are melting. Alllllllllllllllow me to introduce myself!’ Oh boy, thought Ainsley. Here we go. ‘Actually,’ Zucchini said. ‘I would introduce myself with a full Bow greeting but I have already done so to several Martians who did not even bother to applaud. So, my name is Zucchini Spacestation and Zucchini Spacestation is my name. Zoo is for animals, Chini is for chini-meanie-buckerini. It must be magnificent for you to meet me.’ The Martians stood and stared, jaws hanging open. ‘Oh, hi, Ainsley,’ Zucchini added. ‘You found me!’ ‘In a word, no! Actually, I’m just looking for Happy Harry’s Haven for Hectic Holiday Happenings. I’m on a Mystery Tour and frankly, I’m not sure I’m happy I came.’ American took a step towards the Bow. ‘I think you might be in the wrong place, pardner.’ ‘This isn’t . . .?’ ‘Happy Harry’s Home for Whatever . . . no, I’m afraid it is not,’ Ice said firmly. ‘Now, be on your way.’ ‘Whatever it is you’re selling, amigo, we don’t want any,’ said Mexican. Zucchini looked crushed but shrugged. ‘Okay, then. I’m heading home. Goodbye.’ ‘So long, buddy.’ ‘Goodbye, Bow man,’ agreed Japa-sneeze. ‘Oh, and – Hiroshima! That’s a nice haircut!’ Zucchini stopped and beamed towards the Asian Martian. ‘Thanks! It’s even better on my ankles.’ 71


Thanks a Kazillion As an afterthought, Zucchini said, ‘See you, Ainsley.’ She almost choked. ‘Zucchini!!!!!’ But he was already gone. Ainsley just stared at the door.

72


p 9

Sum mit at the Starry Eye Café Zanzibar Spacestation landed in a heap in the big pile of sand that cushions a Bow’s fall at the base of a rainbow. He untangled himself, stood as tall as he could (not very), spread his arms as wide as he could (not very), and yelled, ‘Taaaaaa daaaaaaaaaaa!’ Silence greeted this spectacular arrival. So he spread his arms even wider (still not very) and shrieked, ‘It’s me!!!!!!’ After more silence, he added: ‘Zanzibar Spacestation!’ Nothing. The entire car park of the Starry Eye Café was empty. Zanzibar held the pose for a few moments longer, eyes darting in all directions and giant toothy smile starting to look a little strained. The only movement he could see was in the sky where a bright light was soaring away from the café, and he could hear music fading into the distance. Zanzibar knew that would be Lightning Rod – the superhero who scares the dark – flying off on some heroic mission, accompanied by the theme music that followed him everywhere, providing a dramatic soundtrack to his deeds. Either that, or it was a really confused star with a loud radio. The light got smaller and then was gone. Zanzibar 73


Thanks a Kazillion finally dropped his arms, shrugged and walked over to the Starry Eye Café. The Starry Eye Café is down the coast from Fruitfly Bay, although you have to know somebody in the magical world, such as a Bow, a frongle, a Martian or maybe a special kind of cat to help you get there. It’s a fun place, noted for its astounding milkshakes, its colourful, magic floating furniture, and the fact that you can control time from behind the counter. As Zanzibar burst through the front door, Macklin, The One Who Moves The Stars, was making a hot chocolate for Georgina, a slightly older girl. She had brown hair, with a fringe, and was wearing jeans and a camouflage T-shirt, a chunky silver surfie necklace and sunglasses with yellow lenses. Macklin wore jeans and a T-shirt, with a baseball cap holding back wild strands of hair. He was also wearing a black and white striped apron, with ‘Go Dolphins!’ printed on the front in big white letters. The Dolphins were the local footy team that Macklin and his brother, William, also known as Lightning Rod – boy superhero, played for each weekend. The only other creatures in the café were a group of frongles over in a corner, talking quietly among themselves as they hovered on the café’s floating chairs, drinking a strange purple liquid and eating bowls of whitebait. The mood would have been peaceful were it not for the raspy cat voices in the kitchen singing an out-of-tune version of Don Gato Was a Spanish Cat. ‘Hi Zanzibar,’ said Macklin. ‘How’s tricks?’ ‘Licks, nicks, sticks, hicks, wicks, bricks,’ Zanzibar said, bouncing up and down. ‘Tricks are good, I like tricks, Macklin the star boy. How are your very own tricks?’ 74


Sum mit at the Starry Eye Café ‘I can’t complain,’ Macklin said. ‘All the stars and planets are more or less where they should be.’ Zanzibar turned to the girl. ‘And you, Georgina, the girl who plays with sharks, the girl who eats picnics in parks, the girl who sat on a lark, the girl not called Blark . . . or Mark . . .’ Georgina gave the Bow her best deadpan face. ‘My tricks are also good,’ she said, sipping her hot chocolate. ‘You knucklehead Bow!’ she added. ‘Was that Lightning Rod I saw disappearing into the distance as I arrived?’ Zanzibar asked. Georgina sighed and rolled her eyes. ‘He decided he had been about as Heroic as he could possibly be here so he’s flown off to try and find whole new dimensions of Heroism.’ ‘Huh?’ said Zanzi. ‘Actually he’s on a secret mission,’ explained Macklin. ‘Good for him,’ said Zanzibar, who stood at the counter, squinting. Something was different but he couldn’t place it. ‘Have you painted the café, Mackie-boy?’ Macklin grinned. ‘No.’ ‘Have you cleaned the dome?’ Macklin glanced up to the Starry Eye Café roof, which was an enormous dome that could change into a giant screen where the planets and stars could be viewed. ‘Nope.’ ‘Have you added more levers to your star controls?’ The levers were scattered along the length of the counter, tilted at various angles and occasionally moving, ever so slightly. Macklin used them to move the stars and planets. ‘Not even close,’ Macklin grinned. ‘You’ve just bought a whole bunch of new plates and glasses?’ 75


Thanks a Kazillion Macklin glanced at the enormous pile of clean dishes, glasses and cutlery on the bench next to the sink. ‘No, I just finished two hours of washing up.’ ‘Hey, you crazy Bow,’ Georgina said. ‘If you open your eyes you might notice the new sign.’ ‘New sign,’ screeched the Bow, looking in all directions at once – which isn’t as easy as it sounds. ‘I see no sign?’ ‘It’s right there.’ ‘Where?’ ‘There!’ ‘Where is there, strange Georgina person?’ ‘There! ’ Georgina pointed. ‘It’s hanging right in front of you!’ Zanzibar leapt backwards, noticing the sign for the first time even though it was right in front of his face. ‘My eyesight’s not what it used to be,’ he muttered. ‘But hey, I knew there was something different about this place.’ The sign read: Number of ghosts served at the Starry Eye Café: 0 Zanzibar read the sign nine times. ‘Ghosts, Macklin?’ ‘Well, none so far.’ ‘There are such things as ghosts?’ ‘To be honest, I’m not sure.’ ‘Then why have a sign about ghosts?’ ‘Because if there are ghosts, I’d love to serve one.’ ‘Are you short of customers?’ ‘No, I’d just really like to meet a ghost.’ ‘But as far as you know they’re not real.’ ‘I don’t know that they’re not real.’ ‘But none have ever come into the café?’ ‘Well, they might have come into the café, for all I know. I’ve just never had one order food.’ 76


Sum mit at the Starry Eye Café At this point, Zanzibar slumped into a hovering chair until his brain stopped spinning. Georgina said, ‘Relax, Macklin. You know what Bows are like. They struggle with new concepts sometimes. The sign’s great.’ ‘It’s better than great. It’s fantastic!’ said a new Bow voice from the doorway. ‘Ha ha ha ha ha! Hello!!!!! It is me, me is I, I is somebody you should want to get to know, if you know what I mean, and I mean me. Do you mean me? I do not know but we is me is the key to me . . . err, I seem to have gotten a bit lost. Where was I? Oh yes, me is I and I am the one who calls me . . . um, me . . .’ ‘Do you know this guy?’ asked Georgina. ‘Nope, but I think he’s building up to his name,’ said Macklin. ‘. . . and so behold the glory, the power, the fashion and the wonder that is . . .’ The Bow held his breath, milking the moment. ‘Any time now,’ said Georgina, rolling her eyes. The moment continued to be milked. Macklin folded his arms. Georgina looked pointedly at her watch. ‘. . . that is . . . Wandiligong Skyscraper! Ta da!’ ‘Ta da what?’ asked Macklin. The little Bow sagged in exhaustion after such a big intro. ‘Just ta da, as in ha ha ha, it’s great to be here.’ It was a bad time to sag because just then a Bow-shaped blur launched out of a nearby seat and slammed bodily into Wandiligong, who sailed through the air, straight through the café door and clean into the car park. Zanzibar lay crumpled where the collision had occurred. ‘He’s pretty solid for a City Bow,’ groaned Zanzibar, holding his stomach. ‘Aren’t you supposed to warn another Bow before 77


Thanks a Kazillion delivering a traditional Bow greeting?’ Macklin asked. ‘Well, you could, but that would spoil the secret.’ ‘The secret? Why is the greeting a secret?’ Zanzibar looked sly. ‘Because secrets are fun!’ Wandiligong staggered back through the door, bent double in pain. ‘Nice to meet you, oh noble Bow. That might have been the most powerful Bow greeting I’ve ever encountered.’ ‘Thank you,’ said Zanzibar seriously. Having the power of your Bow greeting remarked upon was a major compliment. Both Bows spent a few moments recovering until finally Macklin asked Wandiligong, ‘Can I get you something?’ ‘Do you have milkshakes?’ ‘The best,’ said Zanzibar, returning to his chair. ‘Try the ladybird flavour. Chocolate and orange. More delicious than a mouthful of mud!’ ‘That’s not very delicious!’ said Georgina. ‘That’s what I mean,’ Zanzi shrugged. ‘It’s much more delicious than that.’ ‘I’m convinced. I’ll have twelve, please,’ said the Bow, looking at the new sign. ‘Ghosts, huh? I’ll bet this place is the talk of the ghost town because of that sign.’ Macklin was wide-eyed. ‘You know some ghosts?’ ‘Who? Me? No way!’ ‘But there’s a ghost town?’ ‘I have no idea.’ ‘But you just said . . .’ ‘Well, IF there is a ghost town, and IF ghosts do exist, I’m sure this place is what they talk about. How’s that?’ ‘A lot less exciting than before,’ said Georgina. ‘So, Wandiligong Skyscraper, where are you from?’ ‘He’s a City Bow,’ said Zanzibar. ‘You can tell by the smell of car exhaust.’ 78


Sum mit at the Starry Eye Café ‘That happens to be my shampoo,’ said Wandiligong. ‘Hey, have any of you seen Zucchini Spacestation?’ ‘He’s my cousin,’ said Zanzibar, leaping to his feet. ‘Why are you looking for Zucchini?’ ‘I’m not.’ ‘Then why ask where he is?’ ‘Because other people are looking for him.’ ‘What people?’ Macklin couldn’t believe how hard it was to get a straight answer from a Bow sometimes. Wandiligong pulled a notepad out of a large pocket in his jacket. ‘Let’s see . . . there’s a kid called Harlan Banana, as well as Zootfrog the golden frongle, Moogwig the frongle head of public relations, and a large blonde dog. Also, a houseful of spiders in Fruitfly Bay has an interest in his whereabouts, as well as the location of a girl called Ainsley Banana.’ Everybody took a moment to digest this information. ‘A large blonde dog?’ said Georgina. ‘Called Fly,’ nodded Wandiligong. ‘The dog can fly?’ ‘I don’t believe so, no.’ Everybody continued to info-digest. ‘Something’s going on,’ said Macklin at last. ‘Zucchini and Ainsley are missing,’ said Georgina, turning back to her hot chocolate. Macklin swung around. ‘You knew? You could have told me.’ ‘I could tell you lots of things. If I tried to tell you all the things that I know that you don’t know, we’d be here for years.’ ‘You’re worse than my big brother sometimes!’ said Macklin, storming off to the other end of the counter. ‘Why, thank you,’ said Georgina, grinning and sipping 79


Thanks a Kazillion her drink. She and William had been friends for a long time, even if his self-importance at being a superhero occasionally drove her crazy. Almost immediately, Macklin’s curiosity overcame his anger. ‘So how do you know?’ ‘Zootfrog told me while she was waiting for Harlan at his house. They are going to meet us here to talk tactics.’ ‘How long have Ainsley and Zucchini been gone?’ ‘A while. Fruitfly Bay is under a frongle fog.’ ‘Are they really missing, or might they have just wandered off?’ ‘Funny you should ask!’ Wandiligong said. ‘See, there were these Martians and—’ ‘Martians?’ said Macklin. ‘You mean Larry and Kelroy! It’s funny they haven’t dropped by. Are they missing too?’ ‘Let’s not get carried away,’ said Georgina. ‘Who knows where Larry and Kelroy are. As for Ainsley and Zucchini, I’ve asked Lightning Rod to search every inch of the Zone of Darkness. But I don’t think they’re there. He’s already looked once. I’ve checked out the Fruitfly Bay schoolyard and the skate park, but there were no clues anywhere. I went swimming too.’ ‘Did you see the sharks?’ Macklin asked. Georgina was very friendly with all the sharks, whales and dolphins who lived in the fish villages off the coast of Fruitfly Bay. She was the daughter of a Kazillion Wish winner, so she enjoyed certain privileges in the non-human world. And she had shown great courage when the local sea-folk had recently been threatened by an invasion of the dreaded fishface army, led by the Lord of Bark. ‘Yep,’ she said now. ‘The dolphins and sharks don’t know a thing.’ Macklin said quietly, ‘This is very worrying.’ 80


Sum mit at the Starry Eye Café ‘You’re telling me,’ said Georgina. ‘My almost-sister is missing. I’m worried sick.’ Zanzibar grinned confidently. ‘Don’t worry about a thing! I’m sure Zootfrog has got to the bottom of the whole thing by now. She’s the smartest frongle I’ve ever met. I’ll bet she’s solved the entire mystery.’

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The Pool of Knowledge Well, I’m stumped. I haven’t got a clue,’ said Zootfrog.

‘

‘If the spiders didn’t see who took Ainsley, it’s completely hopeless.’ Harlan was slumped on the ground, leaning against a rock. It had taken him more than a kilometre to catch up to Zootfrog after Mr Shadow’s latest appearance. ‘Zootfrog, I’m starting to think I may never see Ainsley again.’ Harlan could hear the crack in his voice, no matter how hard he was trying not to cry. Fly laid a shaggy head on Harlan’s knee, and gazed up at him with big eyes. Harlan’s eyes filled with tears. ‘We’ve been fighting a lot lately. She was driving me mad. She’s hanging out with Georgina so much that I got mad with her, and then she and Georgina ganged up on me. I was pretending to host a game show and they laughed their heads off. But now I can see that it didn’t mean anything and that she was just being Ainsley and mucking around. I love having her around more than anything in the whole world. It’s like I can only think about all the things I haven’t said to her, the things I’d like us to do together. All I want is to see her again.’ Zootfrog fluttered down to hover in front of Harlan’s 82


The Pool of Knowledge face. ‘All we need is one good clue, Harlan. We’ll find her, I promise. I didn’t mean what I said about it being hopeless.’ ‘But we don’t have any clues,’ Harlan said, stroking Fly’s head. ‘Nobody knows anything. Nobody saw anything. And we can’t just spin a wheel and win the jackpot to get her back. We can’t simply answer a few questions to win tonight’s showcase, which is a range of expensive luggage, a new car . . . and Ainsley Banana. Ainsley can’t just “come on dowwwwwwwn!” I feel like we’re trying to guess the general knowledge answer without hearing the question.’ Zootfrog’s wings suddenly flapped so fast that they became a blur. She shot up higher into the air. ‘What did you just say, Harlan?’ ‘I said Ainsley can’t “come on down”.’ ‘No, after that. You said “general knowledge”. That’s it, Harlan! You’ve cracked it!’ ‘I have?’ Harlan was standing now, but still completely mystified. ‘How?’ Fly Dog the Magnificent was also standing. ‘Does it involve chasing after balls?’ ‘Knowledge!’ said the frongle. ‘That’s where we have to go – to the Pool of Knowledge! Let’s go!’ ‘Won’t we need your car?’ asked Harlan. ‘No way. Mr Shadow is there, remember? We’re flying.’ She mumbled her shrinking spell and Harlan felt himself growing smaller until he was the same size as Zootfrog. She wrapped her arms around his chest and shot into the air, wings flapping furiously under the extra weight. Harlan heard Fly Dog bark somewhere below but lost the sound as the wind whistled past. Zootfrog and the tiny Harlan flew west so fast that Harlan had to blink tears from his eyes. 83


Thanks a Kazillion ‘Hey Zootfrog,’ he yelled over the breeze. ‘If you can fly so well, and carry me, why do you even need a car?’ Zootfrog was silent for a while as she flew. ‘Hmm, good question. The frongle car salesman put up a good case though. I remember that. Something about responsibility for my family and allowing my kids to travel safely.’ ‘You have kids?’ Harlan couldn’t believe he hadn’t known that. ‘No, I don’t. That’s why I was kind of surprised he talked me into it. Oh well.’ They continued to fly west, over landscapes that Harlan had never seen before. There was a giant forest with enormous trees. There was a mountain range to the south, with snow on the highlands, and Harlan could just make out a waterfall, plunging off the side of the tallest mountain. They flew over grasslands, a swamp, endless paddocks changing from green to brown, a couple of halffull dams, a dry-looking forest, some low hills, a fun park. ‘Hey, what’s a fun park doing all the way out here in the wilderness?’ said Harlan. Zootfrog shrugged. ‘A rare creature called the longfanged monster-truck cane toad lives way out here. They love fun parks.’ ‘Long-fanged monster-truck cane toads???’ ‘Trust me, they’re nasty.’ ‘Do they attack people?’ ‘Only if you say two certain words. Legend has it, they appear out of thin air at the mention of the words, and chase after the person who said them.’ ‘What words?’ ‘Well, I’m hardly going to say them, am I? All I’ll say is that they are unusual, or else long-fanged monster-truck cane toads would be launching attacks every five minutes. 84


The Pool of Knowledge I can also tell you that the words are the name of an American hero of the wild west. His name was a shortened version of William and he was known for hanging out with buffalos.’ Zootfrog winked meaningfully. ‘Oh, you mean Buffa—’ Zootfrog clamped a frongle hand across Harlan’s mouth. ‘Don’t say it! Weren’t you listening? You want a long-fanged monster-truck cane toad in the air with us?’ ‘Oops, sorry. Where are we anyway? This feels even more remote than the Zone of Darkness.’ ‘It is. We’re a long, long way west, out near the Sand Lands.’ ‘The Sand Lands?’ ‘I believe you humans call it the desert.’ ‘And where are we going?’ ‘Just down here.’ Zootfrog tilted her wings towards the ground and they landed by the side of a small lake. Towering gum trees surrounded it and soft grass led to the water’s edge. As soon as Harlan’s feet hit the ground, Zootfrog mumbled a reversal spell and he grew back to his normal size, so that Zootfrog was now not much larger than his hand. Harlan looked around. They were in an awesome place, with the waters of the lake lapping softly onto a thin strip of sand. The sand gave way to the grass Harlan was standing on and it was the lushest, greenest, most inviting grass Harlan had ever seen. One particularly large tree loomed over them, its branches swaying protectively to keep out the glare of the desert sun. ‘Where are we, Zootfrog? This grass is so beautiful it’s almost hypnotising me. All I want to do is take off my shoes and socks and stand barefoot.’ ‘Go ahead, Harlan. I need you to be barefoot anyway. This is the edge of the Pool of Knowledge.’ Zootfrog had 85


Thanks a Kazillion stopped hovering and she stood on the magnificent lawn as well. Harlan took off his runners and his socks, wincing a bit at the smell. He’d covered a lot of miles already today, searching for Ainsley, chasing Zootfrog and running away from Mr Shadow. But once his feet hit the grass, he forgot about the smell. He closed his eyes and felt only the touch of skin on feathery blades of grass. It was as though a cool massage was rising up through the soles of his feet, through his ankles and into his calves. As though cool water was soothing his legs, and all the cares of the world were floating away. ‘Zootfrog, this is incredible.’ ‘This is just the grassy edge. Wait until you step into the lake.’ ‘Do you want me to?’ ‘You bet. The lake is the Pool of Knowledge. It’s a sacred place that dates back to the beginning of time – well, at least 30 years ago anyway – and it gives all sorts of important knowledge to anyone who steps into its water. All you have to do is stand ankle-deep in the pool and ask the question you most need an answer for. Then open your mind for its answer.’ Harlan looked at the frongle, then rolled up his jeans to the knees. He gazed at the lake. The water was mirrorsmooth. Harlan took a step towards it. Then his feet were on the sand and finally, with four slightly hesitant steps, he was standing ankle-deep in the Pool of Knowledge. If the grass had felt good, the water was a whole different level of fantastic. Now Harlan could feel the coolness of the water against his skin, as well as strange swirls of sensation fluttering around his feet and his ankles. He could feel little sparks under the soles, where the sand met 86


The Pool of Knowledge his skin, and the most amazingly pleasant warmth rising through his veins and bones. ‘Think of your question, Harlan. Empty your mind.’ Zootfrog’s voice carried from the grass. Harlan closed his eyes and tried to concentrate. The sparks were still bouncing and fizzing against his skin in a way that should have been ticklish, but was instead like a gentle massage. The warmth made his whole body feel loose and relaxed. Even with his eyes shut, he was aware of colours exploding and drifting through his field of vision, as though projected onto his eyelids. Deep greens, purples and a splash of orange appeared and faded before a crimson red, soft yellow and unexpected lime green flared. Now Harlan was aware of thoughts swirling around him. Like whispering in school assembly, like writing on a blank page, like words he could almost see but that were never there when he looked. He found that the best thing was not to try too hard to catch the thoughts. Instead he just let them drift past, through and around him. Once he relaxed, the words or voices or thoughts were everywhere. ‘Under your bed, next to the old chess set.’ Harlan was startled – he’d been looking for his Nintendo disk for months. ‘She does like you – a lot, but doesn’t know if you like her.’ Cassandra Wright, a girl at school. Harlan blushed. ‘If you didn’t use it, the gears would mash as they’re changed.’ Harlan didn’t realise he had even cared why cars have clutches. ‘Concentrate, Harlan!’ ordered Zootfrog. ‘There is nothing so lovely as a snow gum in its prime. You could hug it forever.’ Huh? Must be talking to some other guy, Harlan shrugged. 87


Thanks a Kazillion ‘Ainsley is enjoying having a big almost-sister, but deep down, you know that she loves you deeply.’ Harlan felt a surge of hope. ‘Books are organised on library shelves according to the Dewey System. That’s right: the Dewey System.’ I can’t believe I asked that, thought Harlan. But the answers kept coming. ‘Your father, Spencer, does know it was you who kicked the football through the bathroom window.’ Oh no, thought Harlan. ‘Yes, most frogs do have teeth. There are very small cone teeth around the upper edge of the jaw, called maxillary teeth. And some frogs also have vomerine teeth on the roof of their mouth. The thing is, they don’t have teeth on their lower jaw, so they usually swallow their food whole anyway.’ ‘That’s fascinating,’ thought Harlan. ‘HARLAN!’ Zootfrog’s voice cut through the swirl. ‘You’re supposed to be saving your sister, not thinking about frogs’ teeth?’ ‘Sorry!’ said Harlan. Zootfrog was right. He had to concentrate harder. He felt ashamed for letting himself get distracted and in that shame the whole horrible reality of the situation came flooding back to Harlan Banana. Suddenly, Ainsley was there, in his head. His sister. Who was missing. Who he may never see again – something that was as unimaginable yesterday as the idea of not having his legs or his arms. He could see her clearly, as if his eyes were open and she was right there with him. The ache that had been inside him since he heard Ainsley was missing started to rise into his throat so that he was suddenly unable to talk and trying hard not to cry. Where was she? Where on earth was Ainsley? 88


The Pool of Knowledge ‘You know, even the teeth frogs do have are only used to hold the prey and keep it in place till they can get a good grip on it. They squash their eyeballs down to help swallow their meal. It’s gross!’ ‘Enough with the frogs’ teeth!’ Harlan’s brain yelled (which isn’t an easy feat). ‘Ainsley. Ainsley. Ainsley.’ Instead of many drifting voices, there was now only one. And the voice said, ‘SHE IS NOT ON THIS PLANET.’ Harlan Banana was so shocked he physically jumped, tripped on his feet and fell, backwards into the Pool of Knowledge. ‘Harlan?’ Are you all right?’ Zootfrog was flying across the water towards him and then Harlan became aware of a crashing in the nearby trees. Harlan and the fluttering frongle watched as a large cream dog bashed her way through the undergrowth to the water’s edge. Fly Dog the Magnificent was panting so hard that her entire chest was heaving. She slumped into the water, and lapped a long and noisy drink of water. She had run a long, long way. ‘Zootfrog,’ she gasped. ‘You might want to remember next time you fly off that I’ve made a solemn dog vow to protect Harlan for every second of every minute of every hour of every day until we find his sister. So I would appreciate it if you didn’t go flying off to some pool halfway across the country without having the decency to organise me a lift.’ ‘Gosh, sorry Fly. Are you okay?’ ‘Nothing wrong that this water won’t fix. It’s fantastic! It tastes like no water I’ve ever had!’ ‘Are you sure she should be drinking from this pool?’ Harlan asked Zootfrog. ‘She deserves a drink. Anyway, what could happen?’ Fly looked up from her drink and said, ‘Wow! That’s 89


Thanks a Kazillion amazing – I just remembered the exact location of 493 missing tennis balls. Plus Harlan, who’s Cassandra Wright? Plus, you won’t believe this! You know frogs, right? Well who would have thought that they’d have teeth!’

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What Wandiligong Saw It was three hours later. Zootfrog and Harlan arrived at the Starry Eye Café, carting an exhausted dog. After a ladybird milkshake, Fly had recovered enough to resume Tack Dog duties, which largely involved keeping an alert eye on an old tennis ball just inside the front door of the café, and occasionally nudging it towards somebody’s feet in the hope they might throw it for her. Georgina was sitting at the counter chatting to Macklin, Zanzibar and Wandiligong. ‘What are you doing here, Georgina?’ asked Harlan. ‘Nice to see you too, almost-brother.’ ‘Sorry, I didn’t mean it like that. It’s just that Fruitfly Bay is under a frongle fog. I thought you’d be asleep like everyone else.’ ‘Are you nuts? With Ainsley missing? I wasn’t about to let Zootfrog or any other frongle knock me out. Some official frongle called Moogwig wasn’t happy about keeping me awake but I told him, straight out, that I’m not going to rest until she’s found. She’s like a sister to me, Harlan.’ ‘She IS a sister to me,’ Harlan said pointedly. ‘Of course she is,’ said Georgina, and she gave him a look that was both surprised and hurt. 91


Thanks a Kazillion Harlan wished he hadn’t been quite so mean, but he didn’t know what to say to make it right. However, something was bugging him about his almost-sister. She was acting as though she was as upset about Ainsley’s disappearance as he was, as if it was a competition to show who cared the most. Luckily for Harlan, everybody’s attention was diverted by a blast of stirring and heroic music from the door. There was a burst of light and then a boy about the same age as Harlan and Georgina stood in the doorway, fists on hips, and looking dazzling in a gold cape and golden boots, a black bodysuit, topped by golden underpants, along with a golden sash across his chest. The lightning bolt design on the sash grew larger as he puffed out his chest. It was Lightning Rod, the hero who scares the dark – also known as William, brother of Macklin. His personal theme music gave a surge of trumpets and then settled into background beats and rhythms. ‘It’s me,’ he said, importantly. ‘Everybody can relax. There’s a Hero in the house.’ Macklin rolled his eyes. ‘My brother. The one who wears his underpants outside his tights.’ ‘Standard superhero fashion, Mackie. You know that,’ said Lightning Rod. ‘How are you, Zootfrog?’ ‘Fine thanks, William. How’s the hero business? Do you have the darkness under control?’ ‘Like a good shampoo controls dandruff,’ said Lightning Rod, and his superhero theme music added a sting of cymbals to highlight the joke. ‘Euurgh,’ said Georgina. ‘Gross, William. Very gross.’ ‘Well, we Heroes can’t worry about squeamish everyday people, Georgina. We tell it like it is.’ 92


What Wandiligong Saw ‘Who are you calling “everyday people”?’ Georgina asked, squinting. ‘Well, not you, obviously,’ he said, his music sounding like the soundtrack of a scary movie. Harlan looked serious. ‘William, have you had any luck finding Ainsley?’ Lightning Rod sighed and his music switched to slow blues. ‘Nope, I’ve searched the Zone of Darkness and other places so frightening that only a Hero dare fly there. I haven’t seen or heard a thing.’ ‘I might be able to explain that,’ said Zootfrog. She filled everybody in on the search so far, finishing with the strange message from the Pool of Knowledge. ‘Not on this planet, huh?’ Macklin said, stroking his chin and frowning in thought. ‘So, she’s dead.’ Wandiligong shrugged, twirling his skateboard on one finger like a basketball. ‘What? No! She’s not dead. “Not on this planet” doesn’t mean dead.’ Harlan was outraged. ‘She might be up a tree,’ said Zanzibar. ‘What?’ asked Georgina. ‘Well, she could be. Or up in the air, maybe flying around in an aeroplane.’ ‘Or in a hot air balloon,’ agreed Wandiligong. ‘Or a glider,’ Zanzibar said, bouncing. ‘Or a hang glider,’ Wandiligong was bouncing too. ‘Or a helicopter.’ ‘Or on a giant bird.’ ‘Or on a giant leaf.’ ‘Or on a giant bat!’ ‘Or on a ghostly parachute which is caught in an updraft so that it never lands, no matter how long it hangs there, just above the ground,’ Wandiligong shrieked. 93


Thanks a Kazillion They all stared at him. ‘Okay, probably not that.’ Harlan was staring at Wandiligong Skyscraper, now sipping on his seventeenth ladybird milkshake, as though he’d only just noticed him for the first time among the group. ‘What are you doing here?’ Harlan asked. ‘Are you following us?’ ‘Well, not really. It’s a small world. You’re going to keep bumping into people.’ ‘I’ve never bumped into anyone from Greenland,’ Fly said. ‘Good point, Ms Fluffy Dog,’ Wandiligong said. ‘Actually, Harlan Banana, I am here for not one but two reasons. Firstly, to start with, reason number one is that I happen to be selling a magnificent set of Bow cloud reference books, detailing every single cloud that has ever crossed the sky over the past 300 years. It’s a magnificently bound set of 4396 volumes – 243 of which are dedicated to cloud chocolate – and it can be yours for just 147 payments of 29 Bow trinkets per month, or the same value in cloud chocolate. Don’t miss out! Here’s my card.’ Harlan was staring at him. ‘Every cloud that has crossed the sky for the last 300 years?’ ‘That’s right. A magnificently presented photo plus a brief description. No home is complete without the cloud book. Would you like to see a sample?’ Wandiligong dug around in a bottomless pocket. ‘Why on earth would anybody want to know this stuff?’ Georgina asked. ‘About every cloud? What’s the point?’ Wandiligong looked uncomfortable. ‘Oh, you know . . . someone might be interested. Bows like clouds, and cloud chocolate.’ He brightened and stood as tall as he could (not 94


What Wandiligong Saw very). ‘Did I mention that the set comes with a complimentary set of barbecue tongs?’ Zanzibar leapt to his feet. ‘That settles it! I’ll take three!’ Wandiligong was delighted. ‘Three complete sets?’ ‘You bet.’ ‘Later Zanzi,’ said Zootfrog. ‘City Bow, you said there was a second reason you were here.’ Wandiligong handed Zanzibar his business card. ‘Oh yes. Oh yes, oh yes, oh yes, oh yes. Yes indeed-ee. Yes sirreee. A second reason. There was definitely a second reason.’ Wandiligong bounced up and down. ‘I just can’t remember what it was . . . oh yes! Now I do. Harlan, I thought you might want to know about your sister.’ Everybody stared at him. ‘You’ve seen her?’ Harlan whispered. ‘You told us you hadn’t seen her!’ Wandiligong looked guilty. ‘Ah. I thought you asked if she’d seen me – which she didn’t. My mistake. Sorry about that.’ The look Harlan was giving him was dangerous but Wandiligong soldiered on. ‘I saw who took her too.’ Harlan blinked. ‘You saw the kidnappers!’ ‘Sure. I was hoping to sell some cloud books in Fruitfly Bay when I got distracted by the impressive skate park.’ Wandiligong flipped his skateboard up into his hand. ‘If only I could skate, it would have been a fantastic discovery. Anyway, I was wandering up your street when I noticed two weirdos leading your sister away from the front door. She was under a spell – walking very deliberately, with her knees raised like people always do when they’re under a spell. Then they all got into the spacecraft and—’ ‘Spacecraft?’ said Zootfrog. ‘Yeah, spacecraft – what, are you deaf? – and they took off. They were unlike any Bow I’ve ever seen. They had 95


Thanks a Kazillion five legs. Four arms. Antennas coming out of their heads. And tentacles waving around behind them.’ ‘Martians!’ said Macklin. ‘Martians?’ said Fly. ‘Martians!’ said Harlan. ‘Martians!’ said Lightning Rod. ‘Martians!’ said Zootfrog. ‘Martians!’ said Georgina. ‘Elephants,’ shouted Zanzibar. The others stared. ‘Okay, probably not elephants,’ Zanzi said. ‘There was another weird thing,’ Wandiligong said. ‘One was dressed like a cowboy and the other was wearing white, with snow and ice all over him. The ice was melting and leaving wet patches on the driveway.’ ‘The evaporating man!’ said Zootfrog. ‘Edwina the spider mentioned him.’ ‘What about my cousin Zucchini?’ asked Zanzibar. ‘Did you see him too? He’s been bownapped!’ There was a shriek from the doorway, where Zucchini Spacestation was standing. ‘YOUR COUSIN HAS BEEN BOWNAPPED?’ ‘Yes!’ Zanzibar shrieked back. ‘ZUCCHINI SPACESTATION HAS BEEN BOWNAPPED!’ ‘BOWNAPPED?’ ‘BY MARTIANS!’ ‘BOWNAPPED BY MARTIANS!!’ ‘YES!!!’ ‘AAAAARRRRRGGGGGGGGHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!!!!’ squealed Zucchini, running around and flapping his arms. ‘EEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE EEEKKKK!!!!!’ squealed Zanzibar. 96


What Wandiligong Saw ‘Um, excuse me,’ said Harlan. ‘AAAAAAAAAAAARRRRRRRGGGGGGHHHHHH!!!!!!’ Zucchini continued. ‘‘Er, Bows . . .’ said Zootfrog. ‘EEEEEEEEEEEEEEEKKKKKKKKK!!!!!!!’ Zanzibar yelled, going blue in the face. ‘HEY BOWS!’ yelled Macklin, and pulled one of the levers behind his café counter. Everything slowed down and then lurched to a stop. As The One Who Moves The Stars, Macklin can control time when he needs to, which comes in handy if he drops a glass and wants to stop it hitting the ground, or if a couple of Bows are out of control in his café. Macklin pulled the lever towards him and time spun backwards just long enough to put Zucchini back in the doorway a few moments before. ‘Let’s try that again, shall we,’ Macklin said, and pushed the lever. ‘Okay, probably not elephants,’ Zanzi said. ‘There another weird thing,’ Wandiligong said. ‘One was dressed like a cowboy and the other was wearing white, with snow and ice all over him. The ice was melting and leaving wet patches on the driveway.’ ‘The evaporating man!’ said Zootfrog. ‘Edwina the spider mentioned him.’ ‘What about my cousin, Zucchini?’ asked Zanzibar. ‘Did you see him too? He’s been bownapped!’ There was a shriek from the doorway, where Zucchini Spacestation was standing. ‘YOUR COUSIN HAS BEEN BOWNAPPED?’ ‘Yes!’ Zanzibar shrieked back. ‘ZUCCHINI SPACESTATION HAS BEEN BOWNAPPED!’ ‘BOWNAPPED?’ 97


Thanks a Kazillion ‘Oh man, not again . . .’ Macklin toggled his lever, slowed and backed up time and then hit ‘play’ once more. ‘What about my cousin Zucchini?’ asked Zanzibar. ‘Did you see him too? He’s been bownapped!’ Zucchini said from the doorway: ‘Who, me?’ Immediately, Zanzi was a blur, flying towards his cousin. They slammed into one another and pinballed straight at Wandiligong for a three-way greeting. Smash! ‘Everything’s gone dark,’ groaned Zanzibar from the floor. ‘Stay away from the light,’ whimpered Wandiligong. ‘Sometimes I wish I was a frongle,’ Zucchini croaked. ‘I’m certainly glad I’m not a Bow,’ said a thin robotic voice from the doorway, as Zucchini picked himself up off the floor. ‘We Martians think Bow greetings are an even sillier idea than being a dentist,’ said a similar voice. ‘Affirmative. Fiddling with other people’s teeth – weird!’ said the first one. ‘By the way, that was an interesting fact about Martians.’ ‘Larry and Kelroy!’ Harlan yelled. ‘Boy, are we glad to see you.’ Larry and Kelroy are not widely recognised on their home planet but in fact are two of the greatest interplanetary explorers ever to boldly fly away from Mars. They have explored the entire Earth more than 47 times, sometimes exploring popular beach resorts for weeks at a time, or hanging out in adventure parks and playgrounds for several days, enjoying every ride over and again in the name of ‘research’. ‘What are you guys on Earth for this time?’ asked Zootfrog. ‘We just discovered Asia!’ Larry said importantly. 98


What Wandiligong Saw ‘You discovered Asia the last time you were here, and the time before that.’ ‘Vietnam’s cool,’ Kelroy said. ‘We might have to discover it again.’ Larry grinned. ‘We were just about to close up our Martian House of Gherkin Burgers for this trip when Zucchini walked in the front door.’ ‘Martian House of Gherkin Burgers?’ asked Zanzibar. ‘Correct. That’s our day job on Mars,’ Kelroy explained. ‘Martians like burgers made out of gherkins?’ ‘Not really.’ ‘Actually, negative. Not at all.’ ‘Business is slow.’ ‘That’s why we spend so much time exploring.’ Harlan rolled his eyes. ‘So Zucchini walked in your door . . .’ ‘Yes, I’d been on a Mystery Tour but it was a complete dud. Our crazy, loopy, whacky, zany, madcap, beautiful, glorious, disgusting Martian friends here agreed to fly me home.’ Larry said, ‘Zucchini, I couldn’t help but notice you said “disgusting”.’ Zucchini looked shifty. ‘Did I? . . . I meant to say, “fantastilistic”.’ ‘That’s not even a word,’ said Macklin. ‘It is on Pluto,’ Larry said. ‘That was an interesting fact about Pluto,’ said Kelroy. Martians are always full of interesting facts. ‘That was also an interesting fact about—’ ‘Cut it out!’ said Zucchini. ‘So what’s tricks, chooks?’ Zootfrog looked grim. ‘Ainsley’s missing. She’s been kidnapped – by Martians.’ ‘Ainsley?’ Zucchini shrugged. ‘I saw her earlier today.’ 99


Thanks a Kazillion Everything stopped. William’s music froze, mid pianosolo. Georgina was on pause, her drink halfway to her lips. Macklin dropped a metal milkshake-mixing jug. Zootfrog hung in midair. Zanzibar and Wandiligong’s eyes bulged. Larry and Kelroy’s tentacles even stopped fizzing and buzzing behind their backs. Harlan’s eyed narrowed. ‘Did you say you saw Ainsley earlier today?’ ‘Sure. She was hanging out with those weird Earth Martians. A prisoner, by the looks of it.’ Harlan stood up, fists clenched. ‘A prisoner?’ ‘Yeah.’ ‘And it didn’t occur to you to rescue her?’ Zucchini shrugged again. ‘Hey, for all I know, she likes being a prisoner.’ Zootfrog managed to get a frongle separation-fog in the way less than a second before Harlan launched himself at the Bow. Wandiligong said, ‘By the way, I meant to say, Zucchini, my new friend: nice haircut. I haven’t seen a back-of-head moustache for weeks.’

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The Fellowship of the Banana ‘ She’s my sister, so there’s no rescue party without me,’ said Harlan in a voice that suggested arguments would not be considered. ‘Same goes for me,’ said Georgina. ‘Well, not exactly the same,’ said Harlan. ‘I’m not sure we both need to go. Shouldn’t you stay behind to reassure our parents?’ ‘They’re asleep, Harlan, under a frongle fog. They’re not going anywhere.’ Georgina blinked back tears. ‘You don’t want me to come, do you? You want to prove you love her more than I do.’ ‘I didn’t say that,’ said Harlan. But he looked uncomfortable. Georgina surprised him by putting an arm around his shoulders and looking him in the eye. ‘Listen, Harlan,’ she said softly. ‘I know she’s your sister and not mine but that doesn’t mean I’m not worried about her. I just want to make sure she’s safe.’ Harlan didn’t say anything so she turned to the others. ‘Who else is coming?’ ‘You’ll be needing a Hero, so I’m in,’ said Lightning Rod, theme music soaring dramatically. ‘It’s pretty dark in space, 101


Thanks a Kazillion so you’ll need my light. Lucky a Hero as powerful as I am happened to be available.’ ‘Boy, are you president of your own fan club!’ ‘Just telling it like it is, Georgina. Us Heroes don’t see any point denying our greatness.’ ‘Sheesh,’ said Georgina, rolling her eyes. ‘Anybody else want to join us – a genuine Hero, and these two ordinary humans?’ asked Lightning Rod. ‘I have to protect Harlan,’ said Fly. ‘Plus, I couldn’t help but notice that Mars is round, just like a ball. I might have to chase it.’ ‘I’m a noble frongle warrior, so I’m coming,’ said Zootfrog. ‘We’re heading home anyway, so we’ll drive,’ said Larry. ‘Affirmative. You can stay at our place,’ added Kelroy. ‘There are enough plants for everyone!’ ‘I’m the only one who’s seen the kidnappers,’ said Wandiligong. ‘So I’m coming.’ Zucchini said, ‘You’ll be needing me for my brains.’ ‘There goes the rescue plan,’ said Harlan. ‘Then it’s settled,’ Zucchini said, and struck a pose. ‘There are nine of us. That’s 26 legs!’ ‘And 20 arms!’ added Wandiligong. ‘Were you counting Fly Dog’s front paws as arms or legs?’ asked Zucchini. ‘As legs.’ ‘Good. Me too,’ said Zucchini. Lightning Rod put his hand on his hips, puffed out his chest and declared, ‘Here we stand, nine dogged adventurers, prepared to risk—’ ‘I’m the only dog,’ said Fly. ‘Oh, right. One dogged adventurer and eight other adventurers, prepared to risk life and limb to save their friend and—’ 102


The Fellowship of the Banana ‘Hey! I didn’t say I was prepared to risk limbs,’ Wandiligong said, looking alarmed. Lightning Rod rolled his eyes. ‘One dogged adventurer and eight other adventurers, some of whom might be prepared to risk life and limb to save their friend. Others may choose not to, at their discretion, once the dangers reveal themselves and are under no pressure from their companions.’ Zucchini Spacestation puffed himself up to his full height (not very tall) and declared, ‘We shall call ourselves The Fellowship of the Banana!’ ‘I think that name may already have been taken by some hobbits,’ Zootfrog muttered. ‘Hobbits? I don’t think so. They hate bananas.’ They said goodbye to Zanzibar and Macklin, then piled into Larry and Kelroy’s famous beaten-up touring spacecraft, The Beast. The Martian twins were in the drivers’ seats, juggling levers, knobs, straws and frisbees as they prepared for take-off. Harlan, Georgina, Zootfrog and Fly took the back seat while the Bows, Zucchini and Wandiligong completely covered themselves with cushions, pillows and other protective gear in the very back. Lightning Rod stood ready to fly Heroically along beside them. The Beast looked like an old Ford station wagon but with pipes and rockets and a few other intergalactic addons that were big clues to the fact that maybe this wasn’t an ordinary car. Kelroy turned the starter key, which was shaped like a pot plant, and the engine went, ‘Rrrrrr, rrrrrrr, rrrrrrr, rrrrrr . . .’ Larry said, ‘Um, sorry. I need to go to the toilet.’ Larry returned, then Kelroy trotted off to the toilet, then Larry went to get a coat that he’d left in the café. 103


Thanks a Kazillion ‘I’d forgotten how much mucking around there is before a Martian take-off,’ said Zucchini from under his cushions. Then Kelroy remembered a Vietnamese recipe book he’d taken inside to show Macklin, and finally they were all inside The Beast and ready to go. Except Zootfrog, who was frozen with fear. A large black figure had appeared in the Starry Eye Café car park. The figure was so black that they could barely make out its features. It was like a moving ink blot. Fly growled. The creature floated up to the spacecraft and pointed an unfeasibly long black finger straight at Zootfrog’s face. ‘You!!!!!!’ said Mr Shadow. ‘YOOOOOUUUUUU!!!!!!!’ ‘Take off, Kelroy! For the love of a frongle, TAKE OFF!’ screamed Zootfrog, terrified. ‘Rrrrrr, rrrrrr, rrrrr,’ went The Beast. ‘Any minute now,’ said Kelroy. ‘YOOOOOUUUUUUU!!!!’ hissed Mr Shadow, floating ever closer to Zootfrog. ‘Rrrrrr, rrrrr, rrrrrr.’ The frongle panicked. She unbuckled her seatbelt, shot into the air and out the open window. And she flew like a golden bullet into the sky and away from the lurking black creature, as fast as her frongle wings could take her. Mr Shadow drifted away from The Beast, watching Zootfrog become a tiny golden speck in the distance. ‘What’s that all about?’ asked Georgina, but Harlan’s answer was drowned out by The Beast’s engine exploding into life. Suddenly they were hurtling away from the Earth so quickly that their eyes were watering. Mr Shadow become a black dot, a full stop in the rearvision mirror. Then he vanished altogether. 104


The Fellowship of the Banana ‘What a great start,’ said Wandiligong from under a pile of pillows. ‘The Fellowship of the Banana has lost a member before we even got off the ground.’ ‘Hey! The only way is up,’ said Zucchini.

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Life on Mars The Beast hurtled away from Earth, Bows whimpering in the back, while Larry and Kelroy fiddled with the various flight control bits and pieces. Georgina’s head was forced back by the speed of the spacecraft, but she managed to say, ‘Hey, Larry?’ ‘Yes, Georgina?’ ‘If you guys are from Mars, and there are lots of other Martians, how come when Earth sends probes and robots up to Mars, we only ever find red dirt?’ ‘What do you mean?’ asked Kelroy. ‘Well, the United States space agency, NASA, has sent up at least two unmanned missions to Mars to explore the planet. But all they ever do is scoop up red dirt, analyse rocks and take photos of a barren wasteland. Why don’t they ever find you guys?’ ‘That’s easy. Nobody lives on Mars,’ said Larry. ‘That was an interesting fact about Mars,’ said Kelroy. ‘But if nobody lives on Mars . . .’ said Georgina, not really knowing where to go with this, ‘then where do you live?’ Larry turned around and said, ‘You want the tourist guide routine? Oh boy, we get to play tourist guides!’ 106


Life on Mars Kelroy briefly let go of the steering frisbee to clap all four hands. Larry put on a little baseball cap with holes for his antenna. On the front of the cap were the words, ‘Phobos Tourism Information Service’. ‘Congratulations on your decision to fly to Mars, gateway to the Solar System,’ Larry said. ‘In fact, we are not en route to Mars itself – today’s flight will be landing on the Martian moon of Phobos.’ ‘Huh?’ said Harlan. ‘That’s right, Larry,’ said Kelroy. ‘About 300 years ago, Mars became too polluted to live on. All the forests were trashed, the water contaminated, and the air was fouled with exhaust fumes and other poisons. The decision was made to evacuate.’ ‘That was not as dramatic as it sounds,’ continued Larry. ‘Unlike Earth, with its billions of people, Mars has only about 500,000 inhabitants, so they were all able to shift, reasonably quickly, to Phobos, one of Mars’ two small moons.’ ‘The biggest issue was renting a removalist’s truck,’ Kelroy said. ‘Now Phobos is home to all half a million Martians, and has the state-of-the-art facilities you would expect from a dynamic and growing community,’ Larry continued. ‘We have schools, swimming pools, parkland and even a fabulously successful gherkin burger take-away restaurant.’ ‘Guess who runs that!’ grinned Kelroy. ‘We do!’ ‘Why does everybody live on the one moon?’ asked Lightning Rod. ‘Isn’t there another moon as well?’ ‘Deimos,’ said Kelroy. ‘It’s a health resort, mega skate park and minigolf course.’ ‘Affirmative. A 5376 hole minigolf course. If you start playing, it takes nine years to finish!’ said Larry. ‘First-time 107


Thanks a Kazillion visitors to Phobos might notice its distinct colours, from our magnificent orange waves and blue sand to lurid yellow skies.’ ‘One of the great Phobos industries is fine art and, on Earth, you can often find Martian landscape artists’ paintings of Phobos in the waiting rooms of dentists and doctors,’ Kelroy said. Larry said, ‘Our spacecraft is now on its final approach to Phobos. We hope you have enjoyed your journey.’ The distance from Earth to Mars is roughly 497,418,887 kilometres. It took rockets from Earth seven months to cover the distance. Larry and Kelroy got to Phobos in 23 minutes. ‘Once you’re past the Moon you can really put the pedal to the metal,’ said Larry. ‘That was an interesting fact about flying to Mars,’ said Kelroy. Any way you look at it, they were travelling fast. The old blue spacecraft, streaming fire on re-entry to the Martian atmosphere, screamed towards the surface of Phobos with no hope of stopping. Actually, it wasn’t the spacecraft that was screaming: it was five of the passengers. The only ones not screaming were the drivers. Outside, Lightning Rod winced and waited for the impact. ‘Weeeeeee,’ said Larry happily as he yanked on the handbrake. ‘Weeeeeeee,’ agreed Kelroy as The Beast skidded to a halt less than a millimetre from the front yard outside ‘Larry & Kelroy’s Gherkin Fiesta’. Harlan, Georgina, Zucchini, Wandiligong and Fly Dog the Magnificent staggered out of The Beast. Lightning Rod landed Heroically, his theme music experimenting with a science-fiction soundtrack. Harlan looked in all directions, as though he might spot Ainsley at any moment. 108


Life on Mars ‘Hey Harlan, are you thinking what I’m thinking?’ asked Georgina. ‘Huh?’ Harlan was thinking about intergalactic kidnapping. ‘I don’t know. Are you thinking about Ainsley?’ ‘Well, yes,’ said Georgina. ‘But I’m also thinking that you, William and I have just created human history. Do you realise that we are now standing on a moon next to the planet Mars?’ ‘You’re right,’ said Lightning Rod, looking around in wonder. ‘That is extremely Heroic even by my standards. We’ve beaten NASA and all the other space programs by years!’ ‘Of course, most astronauts don’t have The Beast or a couple of Martian friends to assist them,’ said Harlan. ‘Even so, cool, huh?’ grinned Georgina. ‘Sort of,’ said Harlan. ‘Should we be wearing helmets and oxygen tanks or something?’ ‘It’s a bit late now,’ sniggered Larry. ‘Actually, while humans could not survive for a second on Mars itself, Phobos has quite a pleasant oxygen-based climate,’ said Kelroy. ‘That was an interesting fact about—’ ‘Yeah, yeah, yeah,’ said Zucchini. Larry and Kelroy led the way through their restaurant – their house was out the back of the Gherkin Fiesta – and the Earth kids couldn’t help but to be fascinated by the Martian building. Harlan, Georgina and William stared at the Martian walls (decorated with pictures of wallpaper), squinted at the red lighting, walked dangerously close to the edge of the massive plughole that filled the entire base of the shower, and frowned curiously at a toilet with four bowls (Harlan didn’t even want to ask about that). In the kitchen, there was a toaster that had 109


Thanks a Kazillion arms and a fridge that scuttled sideways on nine tiny legs, and occasionally opened its door to yell, ‘IT’S VERY COLD IN HERE!’ It was only after four laps of the house that Harlan realised something was missing. ‘Larry? Kelroy? Can I ask you something.’ ‘Shoot.’ ‘You want Harlan to shoot you?’ Zucchini stared. ‘No, I meant shoot the question at us, crazy Bow.’ Harlan frowned. He was good at figuring out problems but this one had him stumped. ‘There are no bedrooms. There are thirteen rooms, but not one has a bed in it.’ Larry grinned a Martian grin. ‘Did you see the five plant rooms?’ ‘The ones with giant ferns in them? Yeah.’ ‘Well . . .’ Harlan frowned some more. ‘Well, what? I don’t get it.’ ‘You’ll see, Harlan. But first we have to feed the fangular and then we have an old Martian tradition to take care of. Oh boy, do we love a singalong!’ ‘That’s an interesting fact about—’ began Kelroy. ‘Mars. Yes, we know,’ grumbled Harlan. ‘Actually it was an interesting fact about singalongs,’ said Kelroy. ‘What’s a fangular?’ asked Georgina. ‘Come and see.’ Larry scuttled outside to the backyard with Harlan, Georgina and Fly Dog following. Harlan had seen plenty of Martian animals since he’d met Larry and Kelroy, but the fangular left him speechless. It was about two metres tall and lumpy all over, except for its back, which was smooth and shaped like a saddle. It was green – deep-sea green – and had six tails, which all wagged furiously, except for one tail that was spinning. Fly took one 110


Life on Mars look, put her tail between her legs, raced back into the house and scrambled under the couch. ‘Harlan,’ whispered Georgina. ‘Harlan, look at its teeth.’ Harlan couldn’t look at anything else. Every one of the fangular’s teeth was the size of a dinner plate, but square. There were so many of these ridiculously huge teeth that they were crammed into the fangular’s mouth every which way. Some were sideways, some were behind other teeth, some stuck out at the strangest angles. It was as though somebody had thrown plates at a dishwasher and left them wherever they’d landed. ‘I can see why it’s called a fangular,’ Harlan finally said. Larry was shovelling some kind of Martian meat into the fangular’s over-crowded mouth. ‘They’re pretty impressive, aren’t they?’ he said. ‘I’m making sure he’s well fed before the rescue. I can’t wait until he gets his adult teeth.’ ‘These are his BABY teeth?’ ‘Affirmative. Bitey Pete is an adolescent so the changeover should happen any time. If you’re lucky, it will happen while you’re here. It’s really something to see.’ Georgina blinked. ‘Bitey Pete.’ ‘Because of his teeth . . .’ ‘We gathered that,’ said Harlan. ‘How exactly will Bitey Pete help out in the rescue? Is he going to eat through a wall?’ ‘Negative. He will help us escape. Don’t be fooled by all the toothy-pegs. Fangulars are the fastest animal on Mars or its moons.’ After feeding the fangular, they went to find the others and discovered Martians arriving from all directions. Many of them were carrying marshmallow tongs, folding chairs large enough to fit five legs, and picnic baskets. Fly Dog was dropping a ball-shaped rock at the five feet of a young 111


Thanks a Kazillion Martian and wagging her tail, and ever so occasionally checking to see that Harlan was safe in the middle of all these strangers. Harlan was sitting next to Zucchini, Wandiligong and William, having edged away from Georgina. He still wasn’t sure about having her in the Fellowship of the Banana. They were all gazing into the bonfire that Kelroy had lit. Martian bonfires differ slightly from Earth fires – the flames screamed as they burned the wood. ‘Ahhh, it’s hot!’ yelled one flame. ‘I’m burning!’ squealed another. ‘Get a hose! Get a hose!’ a third yelped. ‘Martian fires are pretty noisy,’ Larry told William. ‘That was an interesting fact about Martian fires,’ said Kelroy. Soon 30 or 40 Martians had joined the Fellowship of the Banana travellers around the fire. Kelroy pulled out a Martian guitar, which is exactly the same as an Earth guitar except that it is shaped like a drum and sounds like a drum. As he drummed on the guitar, Kelroy announced, ‘It’s time for The Ballad of the Day My Hand Was Sent to Jail. A traditional Martian folk song.’ The Martians honked, fizzed their tentacles and whacked their four hands into their five feet, their heads and their stomachs. Georgina realised they were applauding. Larry stood and began to sing. ‘Oh, I once decided to name my hands, One called Simon, The other named Stan. I met a man up on a hill, He said, “Hello, my name is Bill.” And he waved, So I waved, 112


Life on Mars And then he smacked Simon, With a high five. And I said, ‘‘Hey Bill, That wasn’t very nice. I think you’ve knocked Simon out.’’ Bill said, “Why did you call your hand Simon?” I said, “That’s not important. You just smacked him one, Which was unnecessary And cruel.” He said, “Sorry,” And I said, “Fair enough.” But then Simon woke up, And grabbed him by the scruff Of the neck, and whacked him back. Bill called the police and Simon got hauled Off to jail, for three years. I can tell you, it was hard, Having to stand next to Simon’s cell For all that time, When I hadn’t even done anything wrong. Simon and I hardly talk anymore Which is probably a good thing, really, As talking to your very own hand Would be kind of weird When you think about it.’ The Martians LOVED it. Almost as one, the Martians started clapping (which is noisy when everybody has four hands), whooping and stomping their many feet. Larry beamed, bowed and sat. The other Fellowship of the Banana members stared at him. That was absolutely without doubt the worst song any of them had ever heard since the ill-fated Make Up a Song 113


Thanks a Kazillion on the Spot variety show that had briefly appeared on Bow TV six months ago. If Harlan had been hosting a talent show, he would have hit the gong after the first three lines. A couple of equally terrible Martian ballads later, everybody decided it was time to eat. Martians and visitors streamed into Larry & Kelroy’s Gherkin Fiesta, and absolutely everybody asked for a burger without the gherkin pickle, please. A mountain of gherkins grew behind the counter, and even Fly, with her doggy appetite, refused to go near it. Finally, the fire went out. ‘Thank goodness!’ said the flames. All the Martians went home and Larry and Kelroy took their visitors inside to watch Martian TV. It was all reality shows, unfunny sitcoms and bad advertising. ‘I thought intergalactic TV might have had something new to offer,’ grumbled Lightning Rod. ‘There’s not a single program worthy of a Hero’s attention.’ ‘You’re watching the wrong station,’ said Kelroy, walking in with a plate of blue Martian biscuits. ‘Try MartianLive5-D Vision. It’s awesome. You phone them and they can be anywhere in the Martian or Phobos region within 30 seconds, ready to broadcast. If you want to perform a song, or make a speech or host your own game show, you just call their number and bang! They’re there.’ Larry switched the channel and suddenly Martian TV rocked. Kelroy was right. MartianLive5-D Vision was awesome. The five dimensions appeared in your head and in both eyes separately as well as on the screen – plus, it was funny and exciting! They watched a Martian kid five suburbs away try to juggle for the first time. Then they watched a couple of Martian police play Martian backgammon. They watched a strange bunch of Martians dressed as 114


Life on Mars Mexicans singing a version of Don Gato Was a Spanish Cat. Then the cameras zoomed in on a couple having a loud and spectacular face-off outside a Martian nightclub. As far as Harlan could tell, the screaming match was mostly to do with the Martian woman claiming that the Martian man wished Martian ducks were smaller than Martian houses. Her partner said he loved Martian ducks, every bit as big as they were. Then they watched a Martian attempt to sing the long and difficult Martian ballad My Foot Is Stuck in a Shoe and Escape Appears Hopeless Unless I Untie My Shoelace.’ Suddenly The Ballad of the Day My Hand Was Sent to Jail didn’t sound so bad. At last, it was time for bed. Larry took Harlan into a plant room and produced a blanket from a cupboard in the floor. ‘Stand with your back to the plant and slowly topple backwards,’ said the Martian in his robotic voice. ‘You have got to be kidding,’ said Harlan. ‘Not at all, Banana boy. Trust me.’ Harlan took a deep breath and stood as instructed. ‘You’re sure I won’t hurt myself?’ ‘You’ll be fine.’ ‘I’m perfectly safe.’ ‘Correct. I swear on Kelroy’s life.’ ‘How about on YOUR life?’ ‘If it would make you feel better. Sure.’ Harlan put his arms out to the side and tried to let himself fall. He leaned further and further back and just when he thought he was going to crash into the floor, he felt a fern branch wrap gently around his arm. Then another wrapped around his leg. Then a big one wrapped around his waist. Not in a bad way, as though he was 115


Thanks a Kazillion being tied up, but in a gentle way, so that he was able to relax and let the plant take his entire weight. Before he knew it, he was lying horizontally, with his entire body gently held by the plant. Harlan rolled onto his side and the plant carefully rearranged itself so that he was completely supported. He rolled back onto his back and the plant quietly moved its fronds to hold him safely again. ‘This is the most comfortable bed I’ve ever slept in!’ Harlan grinned. Larry smiled happily. ‘Slumber plants. Sleep like a weed!’ He shuffled out of the room, five fluffy slippers sliding on the Martian floor, and Harlan was left to stare at the ceiling far, far above and glowing softly green in the darkness. Harlan could feel sleep approaching, as though from far off, despite his swirling brain and the occasional growl, moan or whimper from the fangular outside. Harlan was on another planet. He was sleeping in a giant fern. He was hanging out with Martians, Bows, a superhero and a big fluffy blonde dog. And Georgina. Hopefully, he was close to his sister. Tomorrow he’d rescue Ainsley.

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Harlan Banana, Action Hero Not that the rescue was that easy. Harlan was perched on the ledge of a mountain, so high in the air that the ground was a vague memory, an undefined thing far below. Lightning Rod and Georgina hadn’t been able to make it this far. Harlan was on his own, his face grimy with dirt and sweat from his brave, fingercracking climb to the ledge. His arms ached. His legs trembled. His eyes burned with anger and exhaustion. His stomach flipped with fear and anticipation. This was it. Less than a metre to his left was a window, through which Harlan could hear the evil murmuring and nasty laughter of the Martian kidnappers. He was armed only with a frongle-blaster, which he held between his teeth. Harlan swallowed his fear, took a deep breath and thought, ‘For Ainsley.’ He transferred the frongle-blaster to his right hand, checked the fire button was set to ‘astound’, took another deep breath, and dived through the window. ‘Oh no, it’s Harlan Banana!’ said a Martian bad guy. ‘My greatest fear!’ screamed another Martian bad guy. ‘My greatest hero!’ said a gorgeous female Martian. ‘Everybody’s greatest hero! The greatest hero on this or any other planet!’ yelled another kidnapper. 117


Thanks a Kazillion ‘There are only about 450 of us. Let’s surrender before we get hurt,’ squealed somebody else. ‘Hey Harlan, before I surrender, can I have your autograph?’ asked the Martian who was clearly the leader. ‘Boy, this is going well,’ thought Harlan. He signed ‘Alltime Martian Greatest Hero, Harlan’ on the chief Martian’s T-shirt. ‘It is going very well,’ said a small South American tree snake, inexplicably sliding across the Martian floor. ‘Fantastically well,’ said a panda bear in the corner. ‘Some would say incredibly well,’ said a small robot made of Lego, winking with a human eye. ‘And I’m using the word “incredible” very deliberately here. It means “unbelievably well”.’ ‘I wish I had braces on my teeth,’ said Bitey Pete, appearing out of a cloud of smoke and grinning a toothy smile. ‘Hey, hang on a second!’ Harlan said. ‘This whole thing had better not be a dream! I’d really, really hate it if I was heroically saving my sister in the face of overwhelming odds and it turned out I was just having some lame dream!’ ‘Sorry Harlan, but you ordered it,’ said Bella and Ruby, the Princesses of Slumberworld who are in charge of all dreams. They smiled apologetically as they faded. Harlan felt himself being shaken gently by the shoulder. ‘Wakey, wakey, rise with the gherkins. It’s time to rescue Ainsley,’ said Larry. ‘Oh, man!’ Harlan said, huddling into his fern. ‘Stupid dream-sequences!’

118


O 15

Shooting the Breeze There was no better guard on Phobos than Gus. Everybody on Mars and its moons knew that to be true. Gus certainly did. Sure, his sister, Alex, was a fantastic guard, but Gus knew he was better. The pair hadn’t spoken for twelve years because of their intense guarding rivalry. Gus had guarded a drop of water from one side of the Phobos ocean to the other, never once letting it out of his sight or letting a Martian fish do something horrible to it, like drinking it and then spitting it back out. Gus had protected the Crown Jewels of Mars for nine years by swallowing them for breakfast every morning and guarding them internally for up to seventeen hours at a time. As a boy, Gus had guarded a rare parking spot right in front of a Martian ice-cream shop for three months, refusing to let anybody park there because he expected his mother to turn up at any moment. It turned out she didn’t even like ice-cream, but she was so impressed she sent Gus and Alex to Guard School. The rest is history. If Gus wasn’t such a spectacularly good guard he might have admitted that he was bored. For somebody of his talents, it was hardly a career highlight to be standing in a garden, on a hilltop, guarding some weirdo girl. 119


Thanks a Kazillion Gus had no idea who this girl was. She was the strangest looking Martian he’d ever seen. She only had two arms and two legs, and she didn’t have any antenna or tentacles. He’d heard rumours that she was from another planet, but Gus didn’t believe in gossip. He was 100 per cent focused on the job at hand, which was to guard this girl, whoever she was. Gus’s breathing was suspended so he would not be caught mid-inhale by a surprise attack. His Guard School mentor had taught him that taking even one micro-second to breathe out could be fatal. Only amateurs actually breathed while on patrol. The girl didn’t have the same restrictions as Gus. She sighed a lot and shifted her feet. She stared for a while at the sky, which had changed from yellow to green to violet and threatened to go brown at any moment. (It was a beautiful day.) Ainsley was not the kind of kid who coped well with boredom. She felt like she might explode from frustration. ‘How long do we have to stay out here?’ said the girl. Gus was about 3000 times too professional to even consider answering her. Instead he glared at her with his most threatening squint. ‘Is there something wrong with your eye? Your face is all screwed up,’ she said, peering at him. Gus unsquinted but said nothing. He was really very good. Then Gus felt a slight shift in the air that meant movement behind him. Instantly he was hyper-alert. His ears switched to self-trained turbo-hearing. Sure enough, he heard a strange sound at the garden gate, and like a super-fit and alert Martian giraffe, Gus swung around and braced for potential attack. 120


Shooting the Breeze Standing at the gate was a short, pot-bellied creature with a big smile, loud clothing and a purple hat and astonishing, utterly blue hair on his chin. It appeared not to have noticed Gus or the girl. It was whistling something that sounded a lot like the traditional Martian ballad involving a hand called Simon, but Gus couldn’t be sure. In the creature’s right hand was a piece of string, which went straight up about 100 metres into the air where a large kite fluttered in the breeze. ‘Hello, my very good Martian friend,’ said Zucchini Spacestation in an outrageous accent that Gus had no way of recognising as French. ‘How is your day? Don’t mind me. I’m just having a walk and flying my kite.’ The girl was now absolutely still. She stared at this creature with a mix of fury and astonishment. ‘Hello there, little Banana girl,’ said the creature. ‘Would you like to fly my kite? It’s a beautiful kite. I made it myself.’ The girl continued to stare at the creature while Gus calculated 9273 known garden attack strategies in his head. Five included large wooden horses and three included sprinklers, but none involved kites. The strange little creature gave a slight tug to the string so that the kite shot a metre or so higher in the air. As the creature walked over to where Gus was crouched, the master guard had at least 400 danger sensors tuned to the situation at hand. His finger itched above the handle of his Martian gelati-boom stunbrella. But there was nothing to react to, yet. ‘Hey Mr Guard. I was wondering if you could do me a favour?’ said the creature. ‘My name is Zucchini Spacestation, by the way. Hello. Pleased to meet.’ Gus watched Zucchini silently, shivering with anticipation. ‘The thing is,’ Zucchini continued, ‘my shoelace seems 121


Thanks a Kazillion to have come undone. Could you please hold my kite while I re-tie it?’ Nothing in the world existed for Gus except this Zucchini creature and the string. He snuck a glance upwards. The kite was twisting and rearing on the end of the string. It was a beautiful kite . . . But Gus knew he could not falter. He crouched, four arms raised to show that he was ready for anything. The little girl was watching all this with her arms folded and a frown on her face. ‘My shoelace,’ repeated the creature, a little more slowly as though Gus might not be too smart. ‘It’s undone. Here, take the kite. Don’t be rude, chook. Let it have a little flutter from your strong, guarding fingers.’ Zucchini pushed the kite string at Gus who was caught slightly by surprise, as his mind played over tactics from guard guidebooks that may yet be useful in the wake of a kite attack. Having considered them all, he couldn’t think of a single threat, so he shrugged and took the string. Zucchini bent and tied his shoelace. Gus watched him like a hawk until the kite billowed in a sudden wind gust. Gus was delighted by the way the string gently tugged at his heavily-trained muscle-bound fingers. He pulled his right arm back and up, ever so slightly, and the kite rose a metre and then ducked back down as though chasing a bird through the air. The wind slackened and the kite lurched, but Gus was already moving, taking a few quick steps backwards and tightening his grip on the string to create tension and push the kite back into the air. Another gust of wind caught it and the danger passed as the kite tugged against Gus’s grip, weaving to and fro in the air. 122


Shooting the Breeze If Gus wasn’t such a magnificently professional guard, he may have smiled. It was about then that Gus noticed the little Zucchini creature had joined the girl. He offered her an elbow, bent so she could slip her arm through. ‘Hello, Ainsley Banana, Sultana, Gondwana, Lantana, Santana. It’s a lovely day for a walk, isn’t it?’ Gus realised with a sickening prickle of fear that they were both a long way out of reach of his gelati-boom stunbrella. ‘Well, we’d better be going, Ainsley girl. Bye-ee Mr Guard,’ said the creature, waving. Gus was horrified. He watched them walk towards the gate and then gazed helplessly at the kite fluttering above him. He watched them open the gate leading from the garden, and then he glared at the string he was clutching. Every single person, creature or life-form on every planet in every universe knows that you never let go of a kite string, under any circumstances. It is just not done. You simply do not let go. ‘Hey!’ yelled Gus. ‘Come back. This isn’t my kite! I’m guarding that kid. HEY!!!!’ But the girl and the Zucchini creature had disappeared. As their footsteps faded, Gus might have heard somebody softly singing about someone called Simon being knocked out by a high five. ‘HEYYYYYYYYYYY!’ he yelled. Still there was nothing Gus could do but stand there, shaking, and holding the string. The kite fluttered quietly in the light breeze. Gus took a deep breath. He knew he had to do something that he had never, in his entire adult life, ever imagined he would even consider. Holding the kite string with two of his four hands, he 123


Thanks a Kazillion fumbled for his mobile phone with another and then dialled with the fingers of his fourth hand. ‘Alex?’ he said. ‘It’s me, Gus. You’re not going to believe this, but I need help.’

124


o 16

Lost and Found F

ly Dog the Magnificent woke and lifted her head sharply. The only time she had stirred in the past two hours had been to check that an old tennis ball was still where she’d left it, and to keep a wary eye on Bitey Pete, who occasionally gave a low moan and licked his enormous teeth with his huge tongue. But now Fly pointed her snout east and sniffed intently. Then she growled low and soft. Lightning Rod was already airborne. His theme music grew louder. He peered into the distance and then glanced excitedly at Harlan. ‘He’s got her.’ Harlan was on his feet but still couldn’t see anything. The ground sloped slightly uphill before dropping away. He didn’t have Lightning Rod’s elevation. Harlan started to run towards the top of the hill but Georgina yelled at him to stop. ‘If you can see them, they can see you, Harlan! Stay put. Ainsley will be here any moment.’ And she was. Harlan felt his chest go tight, and his eyes grow moist as two figures appeared over the top of the hill. One was a little paunchy creature with bow legs, and the 125


Thanks a Kazillion other was a girl sauntering alongside him. Harlan knew that girl’s walk, that take-on-the-world confident walk. Once they were within sight of the group, Ainsley yelled and although Harlan couldn’t make out what she said, the familiar sound of her voice made his heart leap. They ran towards one another and collided in a tangle of limbs and hugs and tears. ‘Wow, a Bow greeting,’ said Wandiligong. Harlan and Ainsley held one another. She looked up at him with wet eyes and a grin that made him unable to speak. ‘You found me,’ she said. Harlan hugged her. ‘It’s you. It’s really you.’ ‘It’s me. I’m fine. Now.’ ‘I thought I’d lost you,’ said Harlan. Ainsley pulled away and looked into his eyes. ‘You can never lose me. I’m your sister. Sisters and brothers stay stuck. Like glue.’ ‘I know that now,’ Harlan said. ‘Did you miss me?’ Ainsley kissed him on the cheek. ‘Like the sky would miss the sun.’ While all this was going on, only a few metres away, Zucchini was hugging Wandiligong, tears streaming down his face. ‘I thought I’d lost my kite,’ Zucchini said. ‘You did lose your kite,’ said Wandiligong. ‘Rats,’ said Zucchini. A few metres away, Fly Dog the Magnificent hugged William. ‘I thought I’d lost my tennis ball,’ Fly sobbed. ‘It’s right there,’ said William, pointing. ‘It is? Hey, cool! Wanna throw it? Do ya? Huh? Wanna? I could chase it.’ 126


Lost and Found Lightning Rod rolled his eyes. ‘I’m a superhero. I only do Heroic deeds.’ A few metres away Larry was hugging Kelroy. ‘I thought I’d lost you,’ said Larry. ‘You did? Why?’ Larry shrugged. ‘Just getting into the spirit of the occasion.’ Harlan and Ainsley grinned at one another. For the first time since he’d found out about the frongle fog, Harlan Banana felt a weight lifting off him. He jumped up and down. ‘You’re safe! You’re safe! We got you!’ Ainsley was leaping about too. ‘I’m free! I’m free! You saved me. Thank you! Thank you! Thanks a kazillion!’ Zucchini was bouncing up and down. ‘Thanks a kazillion! Thanks a gawillion! Thanks a ka-twillion! Thanks a magnillion!’ ‘All of those, you crazy Bow,’ said Ainsley. ‘Thank you as many times as you can think of.’ ‘Schplock?’ said Zucchini. ‘Okay then, thanks a schplock.’ ‘Actually, thanks a kazillion sounded pretty good to me, Sis,’ said Harlan. ‘I think that’s our number.’ ‘I agree, Harlan. Thanks a kazillion it is.’ Georgina was standing quietly to the side. She stepped forward. ‘Hi Ainsley,’ she said. Ainsley threw her arms around the older girl. ‘Georgina! You came to rescue me, too! You’re the best sister I ever had.’ Georgina glanced uneasily at Harlan. ‘Harlan’s been more worried than I have. You’re his real sister, after all.’ Ainsley looked at them both in surprise. Harlan shuffled his feet, and stared at the ground. Georgina smiled in a 127


Thanks a Kazillion brave but slightly strained way. Very un-Georgina-like behaviour. ‘What on earth are you on about?’ Ainsley asked. ‘Of course, Harlan was worried about me. He’s my brother. We’re family. We share the same blood. We’re together for life.’ Now Georgina looked like she might cry. Harlan suddenly understood, for the first time, that it must be just as hard to break into a family as it is to accept a new person into that family. He put an arm around Georgina and said to his sister, ‘Blood or not, Georgina is as much a part of our family as she wants to be. And I think that’s a lot. We couldn’t have rescued you without her.’ ‘What are you talking about, Harlan?’ said Georgina, punching him lightly on the arm. ‘All I’ve done is tag along.’ ‘No, you’ve been here for me all the time, even when I couldn’t see it. Thanks. Thanks a kazillion.’ Georgina seemed to be smiling but wouldn’t meet Harlan’s eyes. ‘That’s okay, Harlan,’ she said. ‘Whatever.’ Ainsley was surprised. She had never seen Georgina blush before. An old musty tennis ball unexpectedly landed at Ainsley’s feet and a large cream-coloured dog bounded up after it and sat wagging her tail encouragingly. ‘Who’s the blonde?’ asked Ainsley. ‘That’s Fly Dog the Magnificent,’ said Harlan. ‘Fly?’ said Ainsley. ‘So can she?’ ‘Can she what?’ ‘Fly, stupid!’ Fly stopped her tail. ‘No, I don’t believe I can fly. What I can do, and do very well, is chase things. Such as that ball there. You could throw it. Really. You could.’ 128


Lost and Found ‘The dog can talk,’ said Ainsley. ‘Of course, she can. Why wouldn’t she?’ She picked up the ball and hurled it into the distance. Fly followed it like a cream blur. ‘Where are we anyway? Overseas?’ They all stared at her. Lightning Rod said, ‘Try “over-space”, Ainsley.’ ‘Huh?’ Larry said, ‘Dorothy, we’re not in Kansas anymore.’ He and Kelroy broke up laughing. ‘We Martians love The Wizard of Oz.’ ‘That was an interesting—’ ‘Yeah yeah yeah,’ Zucchini said. ‘You’re not even on Earth, Banana girl. You’re on Phobos, one of the Martian moons.’ ‘A Martian moon? I guess that would explain the multicoloured skies and orange waves.’ Harlan grinned and pointed to the fangular. ‘And Bitey Pete, with so many teeth . . . they’re baby teeth, you know.’ Ainsley shook her head in amazement. Lightning Rod hovered overhead, looking back the way they’d come. ‘Not to mention all those unhappy dudes with five legs and four arms heading this way. They’re just on the other side of the hill.’ ‘Uh oh,’ said Wandiligong.

129


P 17

Worldly + Grumpy = Trouble W

orldly wasn’t happy. He was a long way from happy, in fact. Some would say he was seething. In fact, ‘seething’ is a great word. Let’s stick with seething. Then again, Worldly himself prefers the word ‘speechless’. ‘I’m speechless,’ he said for the ninth time. ‘Um, you did just speak, Boss,’ pointed out Ken the Kenyan tribesman. ‘What?’ said Worldly, giving him a dangerous look. ‘Well, you said you were speechless but by saying that, you were speaking, which means, technically, you weren’t speechless.’ Worldly stared at him for the longest, nastiest moment. ‘I’m practically speechless,’ said Worldly, a growl in his Martian voice. He turned back to Gus, who was shuffling his five feet and looking at the floor. ‘You let her escape.’ ‘I didn’t let her escape, sir,’ said Gus. ‘I was tricked.’ ‘You’re supposed to be the greatest guard on Mars and its moons.’ ‘I know, sir.’ Gus was hurting deep, deep down. The shame was unbearable. ‘I have only one thing to say,’ Worldly fumed. ‘Well, you’re definitely not speechless then, sir.’ 130


Wordly + Grumpy = Trouble ‘Kenyan, if I were you, I’d practise being speechless. Right now.’ The Kenyan Martian shut up. ‘As I was saying,’ Worldly continued, ‘I have only one thing to say. Thank goodness we’ve got a real guard – your sister Alex – on the case.’ The words landed like a blow on the former number one Guard on Mars and its moons. It was the worst thing Worldly could have said to Gus and they both knew it. ‘Crikey,’ said a broad fake Australian accent. Dwayne was wearing a standard EM uniform, but was still hoping to be the Australian in the Continental Seven. ‘This isn’t very bonzer,’ he added. Worldly turned to American and said, ‘One more thing. We’d better take the Universal Mega Death Vapour-Bubble Bomb with us.’ American gulped. ‘Well, dang, Boss. Are you serious, there, pardner?’ Worldly gave him the same look he’d given Kenyan. ‘Do I look like I’m joking?’ American quaked and scurried away to get the Universal Mega Death Vapour-Bubble Bomb. Still seething, Worldly stormed from the room. ‘Hey, mate,’ said Dwayne to Ken, still trying out his Australian accent. ‘This Universal Mega Death VapourBubble Bomb. Is it a good thing?’ ‘No, Dwayne,’ said Ken, looking worried. ‘No. It’s very, very bad.’

131


N 18

Time to Go L

ightning Rod flew higher, theme music loud and dramatic. The superhero struck a midair pose. ‘My super-vision sees a large female Martian guard leading dozens, wow, maybe hundreds of cowboys, and Vikings. Plus what looks like some kind of African tribesmen. And Mexican bandits. And Japanese samurais? What is this?’ Georgina shook her head. ‘This is now officially weird.’ ‘Are we in a theme park?’ asked Harlan. ‘I can explain. It gets weirder,’ said Ainsley. ‘Trust me, this is no theme park. And they are dangerous.’ Lightning Rod took a closer look at the approaching army. ‘You won’t believe this – there’s also a gang of icemen!’ ‘Icemen!’ said Zucchini. ‘My mother wanted me to be an iceman!’ ‘I wish my mother had wanted me to be an iceman,’ sighed Wandiligong. ‘Mine wanted me to be a chimney.’ Lightning Rod said urgently, ‘We’ve got to go.’ His music boomed out a battle theme as he rose higher into the air and got ready for action. ‘All right everybody. Plan A. Go!’ Ainsley and the Fellowship of the Banana all sprang into action, running or flying. Except for Zucchini and Wandiligong who went into a huddle. 132


Time to Go ‘Plan A? That’s the one where we build a giant glider, right?’ ‘No, that was Plan G. Isn’t Plan A the one where we hide in a huge wooden cow?’ ‘No, that was at least Plan K, maybe Plan M. I think Plan A might have been the one where we dress up as sailors.’ ‘On Phobos? I don’t think so. Maybe Plan A is the one with the buried Christmas tree?’ ‘Or frogs.’ ‘Or worms. Digging and digging and digging and digging their way through space . . .’ The rest of the Fellowship stopped running and flying and stood and stared. ‘ . . . all the way to Earth.’ Silence. ‘Okay, probably not worms.’ Lightning Rod flew back to them and sighed. ‘Listen, Bows. Plan A, one more time! You two are in charge of stalling the strange Martian army for as long as you can. I’ll find a place for us to defend ourselves, if we need to. Larry and Kelroy will fire up The Beast so we can fly back to Earth as quickly as possible. Harlan, Georgina and Fly Dog will guard Ainsley, who can ride Bitey Pete.’ ‘Oh, that plan,’ said Wandiligong. ‘I thought that was, like, Plan Y.’ Lightning Rod yelled, ‘Just move! They’re almost here!’ Bitey Pete suddenly barked once, like a seal who has just eaten a carrot and realised it isn’t a fish. Everybody swung around, just in time to see the fangular open its mouth impossibly wide. Suddenly every single giant tooth shot out of its mouth as though somebody had hit an ejector tooth button. The fangular reeled back, nothing but gums. 133


Thanks a Kazillion ‘Eeeeuwwwww,’ he mumbled. ‘Gross,’ said Ainsley. And then, just as suddenly, with a dull ‘pwomphf ’, his mouth filled with even bigger teeth – each one the size of a pillow case but sharp and solid. The fangular’s mouth was so full of new adult teeth that it looked as though there wouldn’t be room for the air to get through. Bitey Pete barked happily and gave Larry a dazzling fangular smile. ‘Fine time to have that happen,’ grumbled Zucchini. ‘Why don’t we have a picnic while we’re hanging around.’ ‘Here they come!’ yelled Harlan. ‘So, amigo, your brother is supposed to be the best guard on Mars, but he stuffed up and you’ve been called in to fix the Australian situation?’ ‘That’s right,’ replied Alex, not even breathing hard. Mexican, Swedish, Japa-sneeze and Ice were hurrying to keep up with the guard’s pace. ‘So, wouldn’t that make YOU the best guard on the planet?’ Mexican said. ‘I guess you could say that. Modesty would prevent me from saying that, of course,’ Alex said. Secretly, Alex was thrilled. She had waited her whole life for this moment. Gus had met his match and she was about to claim her rightful place as the best guard on Mars and its moons. It was a dream come true, even if this Worldly guy freaked her right out with his intense stare and talk of taking over the universe. With 400 EM cowboys, martial arts experts, bandits, Vikings, ice warriors and tribesmen behind her, Alex cleared the hill and looked for the girl. They had been gaining on her and Alex expected the kid to be right here. 134


Time to Go Instead there was a giant cloud. It was as though a storm cloud had dropped down to ground level. Standing in front of the cloud were two strange-looking creatures. They had pot bellies, only two bandy legs, were very short, wore lots of different coloured clothing and had hair that was completely and utterly blue. One was carrying a piece of wood with twelve wheels attached. ‘Hello,’ said Zucchini Spacestation. ‘How goes your day? Very fine, I should sincerely hope. Finer than sand in an hourglass.’ ‘Finer than sunshine in summer,’ said Wandiligong Skyscraper. ‘Finer than something that is even finer than either of those two fine things,’ finished Zucchini. Alex hadn’t come this far for word games. She grabbed her Martian gelati-boom stunbrella and waved it, humming, in front of the two Bow faces. ‘Listen, freaks,’ she growled. ‘Where’s the girl?’ ‘Well, that’s not very nice,’ said Wandiligong. Alex clicked a button, unfurling her stunbrella and zapped the Bow with a fierce bolt of crimson light. Wandiligong whimpered once and keeled over, out cold. ‘Well?’ she said to Zucchini. Zucchini raised an eyebrow. ‘I’d have to say that I agree with my fine Bow friend. You’re not very nice at all!’ Alex zapped him with her stunbrella. ‘Yowtza!’ he said and keeled over as well. ‘Señorita, I know you’re now the best guard on the planet, but was that a smart move?’ asked a Mexican voice. ‘You’ve just put the only two amigos who know where this girl is into the sleepy hacienda.’ ‘That’s why I’m going to wake them up again, Sombrero Head,’ Alex said, flicking the switch on her weapon. A bolt 135


Thanks a Kazillion of yellow light hit Wandiligong and Zucchini and they sat up, rubbing their heads. ‘Oh mother, I don’t want to go to the party. I just got home from school camp,’ said Wandiligong. ‘Big and green and healthy and large and running free,’ said Zucchini. Alex, Mexican, Ice, Swedish, Japa-sneeze, and the hordes of EMs stared at him. ‘Oh, nothing,’ said Zucchini. Alex knelt down on three of her five legs so she was at the same height as the Bows. ‘Where is the girl?’ ‘Well, now you’ve asked nicely, we’ll tell you. She’s just on the other side of this cloud,’ said Wandiligong happily. ‘Let’s go!’ yelled Alex. She led the charge into the fog, right up until the moment that she and 37 of her army smacked headfirst into a large brick wall in the centre of the cloud. When they staggered back out of the fog, Zucchini said: ‘Oh sorry. Did we forget to mention the wall? It only runs up to about here.’ Nine of the EM cowboys charged into the cloud, past where Zucchini was pointing. Suddenly nine voices screamed, ‘Aaaaarrrggghhhh.’ ‘Oh, did I forget to mention the giant pit at the end of the wall? Sorry. The wall also stops here,’ Zucchini indicated the other end of the wall. ‘And there’s no pit.’ Five Martian tribesmen and three Japanese samurais charged into the cloud. There was a clank so loud it made Wandiligong jump. ‘Oh, I should have mentioned that there IS a giant cage there though. It snaps shut if you run into it.’ Alex reloaded her gelati-boom stunbrella again. ‘So, if I was to avoid the brick wall, the giant pit and the cage, 136


Time to Go could I get safely through the cloud?’ Her weapon hummed menacingly. ‘Absolutely,’ said Wandiligong. ‘Give it a try. In fact, use my skateboard.’ An iceman warrior stepped onto the twelve-wheel skateboard. It shot straight up into the air until the iceman was out of sight. ‘Or maybe without the skateboard,’ Wandiligong said helpfully. Another two icemen and four Vikings carefully made their way into the cloud. They stepped to the left of the wall and felt their way around the edge of the pit. They slowly shuffled forward until they could see the other side of the cloud. ‘We made it,’ they yelled. At which point a Martian tiger leapt on them. It was bright green with horizontal stripes and about twice the size of an Earth tiger. ‘Aaaarrrrrggggghhhhhh! A tiger!!!!’ they screamed. Alex leapt into the cloud and zapped the tiger with her stunbrella, then returned to Zucchini and Wandiligong. ‘Why don’t you two go first,’ she suggested. ‘Delighted to,’ said Zucchini. ‘Great idea,’ agreed Wandiligong. He and Zucchini walked confidently into the cloud, about 100 metres to the right of where the EM army had been trying to dodge walls, pits and cages. Alex and her troops followed, inching along behind the Bows who were invisible in the cloudy vapour but could be heard talking cheerfully just ahead. When at last Alex and the EMs emerged on the other side of the cloud, they were back at the entrance to EM headquarters. Zucchini and Wandiligong were nowhere to be seen. 137


Thanks a Kazillion On the ground was a small envelope. Inside was a card with a picture of a kitten playing with a ball of string on the cover. When Swedish opened the card, it played a little tune. Written inside were the words, So long, suckers. Kissy kissy, smoochy smooch! ‘What a beautiful card!’ said Japa-sneeze. Alex sighed and unhooked her mobile phone from its holder on her belt. She dialled and said, ‘Gus? All is forgiven. Get down here. We need to work as a team.’

138


p 19

The Star of Phobos By the time Worldly, Gus, Alex, the Continental Six, Dwayne the Australian-in-training and the EM army had calmed down, the Fellowship of the Banana members were several kilometres away. Ainsley Harlan and Georgina were safely aboard the adult Bitey Pete, who was roaring along in a flurry of legs and speed. Larry was right. Fangulars were fast! Lightning Rod soared above them, Heroically struggling to keep up with the fangular, and his soundtrack was booming in their wake. Somewhere, far behind, but just keeping them in sight, Fly bounded as fast as she could, panting like a steam train. In less than half an hour they arrived at the Star of Phobos, a famous landmark on the Martian moon. The Star of Phobos was where nine now extinct rivers once met to form a giant river-starfish, giving the place its name. Martians liked to go there for picnics, even though the rivers stopped flowing more than 40,000 Martian years ago. There were free barbecues, and more than enough room for a good game of Martian football. Larry and Kelroy roared into view in The Beast spaceship a couple of minutes later, with Zucchini and Wandiligong aboard and covered in the protective pillows, 139


Thanks a Kazillion mattresses, foam and helmets favoured by Bows travelling in Martian spacecraft. Finally, Fly staggered up to the group. When she noticed that Bitey Pete had barely raised a sweat, she gave the fangular an evil glare, and collapsed. ‘Hey Fly, feel like playing fetch? I have a ball!’ said Wandiligong. ‘Go lick your head,’ said Fly, barely able to move, tongue lolling out of her mouth. Ainsley filled everybody in with a detailed description of Worldly, his plans, his knowledge of the Earth, the Continental Six, his need for an Australian EM, and what she’d heard of the EM army. ‘He’s evil,’ she said. ‘He’s kidnapped kids from around the world, and after they taught him all they knew about their continent, he chained them up and left them to starve to death.’ ‘You saw them?’ asked Harlan. ‘Yes,’ Ainsley said flatly. ‘We can’t go home without them. We have to go back.’ The Fellowship of the Banana went quiet. ‘Well, we need a plan,’ Georgina said at last. ‘And we’ve got one big thing in our favour: the EMs don’t know where we are.’ She turned to the Bows. ‘You definitely lost them?’ ‘Oh, yes, oh my, oh yes, yessee-yi! We lost them,’ Zucchini grinned. ‘They were as lost as a foot in a shoe!’ ‘That’s not very lost, Zucchini,’ said Harlan. ‘As lost as jam on toast,’ said Wandiligong. ‘Nope,’ said Ainsley, shaking her head. ‘As lost as sheets on a bed?’ ‘Uh uh.’ ‘As lost as a man in a shoe shop.’ They all stared. 140


The Star of Phobos ‘ . . . looking for shoes.’ ‘Well, anyway, we lost them.’ ‘Nice work,’ said Ainsley, just as a cloud moved in front of the sun, casting the Star of Phobos in shadow. ‘Let’s sneak back, rescue those kids and get home.’ ‘We might not need to sneak back at all,’ Lightning Rod said, grimly. ‘Eyes up.’ It wasn’t a cloud that had blocked out the sun. It was the largest spaceship any of them had ever seen – even Larry and Kelroy. It was as big as a football field and as it came closer they could make out the entire EM army in their strange outfits. Each member of the Continental Six stood proudly at the front of their section. Even Dwayne was there wearing a khaki shirt and shorts and a large hat that had corks dangling from pieces of string. In front of them all stood Worldly, five legs planted firmly, three hands on hips, and a dangerous look on his face. His other hand was holding a chain, which was attached to six skinny and bedraggled human children, looking terrified. The guards, Alex and Gus, were on the other side of Worldly, standing either side of a glass box. Inside the box was a big cushion and perched on the cushion was a small, round, glittering object. It looked pretty and harmless but was, in fact, a gazillion times more dangerous than the gelati-boom stunbrellas that Alex and Gus held crossed protectively in front of it.

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Let’s Make a Deal . . . Worldly took a sinister step towards the Fellowship of the Banana. Lightning Rod hovered Heroically in front of his companions. ‘Don’t come any closer, Martian, or I’ll be forced to do something Heroic,’ Lightning Rod said. Worldly chuckled. ‘Like what?’ he said. ‘It takes more than a cape to scare me.’ He took another sinister step towards them. Fly Dog the Magnificent growled quietly, deep in her throat. ‘I agree with your throat,’ whispered Ainsley. Worldly took another sinister step forward. ‘Hey, Martian Bad Guy, will you stop with the sinister walking? It’s freaking me out! ’ squealed Zucchini Spacestation. ‘Why don’t you try taking happy steps. You might make more friends,’ said Wandiligong Skyscraper. ‘I’ll make this simple,’ said Worldly in his deep, slow robot-like voice. He pointed at Ainsley. ‘If you try to leave Phobos with that kid, I’ll give you lots of money.’ They all considered this. ‘Fantastic!’ said Ainsley. 142


Let’s Make a Deal . . . ‘That’s very nice of you,’ agreed Zucchini. ‘Thanks,’ said Harlan. ‘He’s nowhere near as bad as you made out, Sis.’ Worldly frowned. American stepped forward quickly and whispered urgently in his ear. ‘I got that wrong,’ he growled. ‘I meant to say, “If you try to leave with the kid, I’m going to destroy the entire universe”.’ ‘Less fantastic,’ said Fly. ‘Not so nice,’ Zucchini said. ‘Thanks for nothing,’ muttered Harlan. ‘Liar, liar, pants on fire,’ said Wandiligong. ‘What was that?’ asked Worldly, turning on the City Bow. ‘I said, “Liar, liar, pants on fire”.’ ‘What does that mean?’ asked the EM leader, growing larger. ‘Actually, it’s true,’ said Larry. ‘We’ve explored Earth for years and it’s a well-known fact. If you tell a lie, your pants catch fire. Once, it even happened to Kelroy.’ ‘It did?’ asked Mexican. ‘Amigo, were you hurt?’ ‘Actually, I wasn’t wearing the pants at the time,’ said Kelroy. ‘That’s true,’ said Larry. ‘If you’re going to tell lies, it’s best to be naked.’ ‘ENOUGH!’ Worldly was glowing red. ‘Hand over the girl and the rest of you can leave, unharmed.’ Georgina took a step towards the leader of the Earth Martians. ‘We’re not handing Ainsley over, freak. If you and your army back away now, I might let you leave unharmed,’ she said, with her fists clenched and her eyes defiant. The Earth Martians stared at the 12-year-old girl and 143


Thanks a Kazillion burst out laughing. As Georgina’s words were passed on from one EM soldier to another, from Mexican to iceman to tribesman to Viking, the laughter spread through the ranks. Soon all 400 or so EMs were rolling around laughing. ‘I’m not sure they’re taking you seriously, Georgina,’ said Larry. She turned and gave him a look that made Larry quake. ‘But I am. Totally,’ he said. ‘Absolutely, Miss Drakedown. Ma’am,’ said Kelroy. ‘Sir,’ added Larry, bowing. ‘Your highness.’ But it was Ainsley who was really mad. These Martians had kidnapped her, threatened her, held her captive and chased them. But now they were laughing at her almostsister. ‘STOP LAUGHING!’ she yelled. And they did. ‘Georgina is worth all of you EMs put together, and she’s worth about a billion of you, Worldly,’ she continued. ‘My friends and I are leaving now. And we’re taking those other Earth kids with us.’ ‘That’s right!’ said Zucchini. ‘We’re out of here, like, now, with Ainsley. Vamoose! The Fellowship of the Banana rides tonight!’ ‘Take a step towards that spacecraft,’ said Worldly, nodding towards The Beast, ‘and I’ll personally make sure you have a safe trip back to Earth.’ ‘Well, great!’ said Wandiligong, beaming. Japa-sneeze muttered something urgently in Worldly’s ear. Worldly closed his eyes and took a deep breath. ‘Sorry, sorry,’ said the EM leader. ‘I meant to say, “I’ll personally make sure you’ll be blown to a jabwillion bits before you even get out of the Phobos atmosphere”.’ 144


Let’s Make a Deal . . . ‘I hate it when he changes his mind like that!’ whispered Larry. Zucchini stood tall, gave Worldly a cool glare and said, ‘Oh yeah? You and whose army?’ ‘Well, mine actually.’ Worldly swung an arm to indicate the hundreds of EM warriors standing behind him. ‘Oh right,’ said Zucchini. ‘My mistake. Okay, Fellowship, looks like we’re staying. Or Ainsley? You could go quietly.’ ‘No way!’ said Ainsley. ‘What do you think, Lightning Rod? Could we beat them in a battle?’ ‘There are a lot of them, Ainsley. Even for a Hero as Heroic as I am.’ Zucchini was frowning. ‘There must be a way.’ Ainsley shrugged. ‘We’ll think of something. Hey, where’s Harlan?’ They realised Ainsley’s big brother was not among them. The EMs saw them gazing around and started searching too, even though they weren’t sure what they were looking for. Then a spotlight appeared on the ground, about 50 metres from the Fellowship and the EMs. It was shining from a searchlight on the roof of The Beast. A small spacecraft hovered above The Beast. The words ‘MartianLive5-D Vision’ were flashing on its windscreens. When it landed, two Martians with TV cameras hurried from it. ‘Ra ta-da ta-da ta-daaaaaaaaaa!!!!!’ Kelroy’s Martian voice was a little too robotic to convincingly deliver a game-show theme but it was loud enough that it caught everybody’s attention. There was some rummaging in the front seat of The Beast and then some real music crackled out from the spacecraft’s speakers. Kelroy leapt out of The Beast, wearing a glittering jacket, ‘Ladies, gentlemen, Martians, fangulars and Bows,’ 145


Thanks a Kazillion he said. ‘Please welcome your host for tonight’s show – Hereeeeeeeeeee’s Harlan.’ And there was Harlan, tap-dancing into the spotlight. The music faded as Kelroy disappeared back into the cockpit of The Beast. Harlan gave a wide-eyed toothy grin. ‘Thank you, thank you, thank you, it’s great to see you all! What a crowd! Is there anybody here from Melbourne, Australia? I guess not – after all, we are on Mars! Well, close to Mars, anyway!’ He paused for the audience laughter but there was only an insane desperate chuckle from Kelroy, who was trying to keep up the show’s energy. Harlan kept going. ‘And welcome to the game show with the most, from Martian coast to coast, the show that likes to boast it’s better than cheese on toast—’ Harlan went into a little dance, milking the moment. ‘I’ll say one thing. He’s been paying attention during our Bow intros,’ said Zucchini, arms folded and head on one side. ‘I think Harlan’s lost it,’ said Lightning Rod, blinking and shaking his head. Ainsley could only stare. This was her brother, the thoughtful, quiet one. Georgina smiled and Fly wagged her tail. ‘That’s right,’ continued Harlan, waving some kind of walking stick and dancing as he spoke. ‘It’s time for Earthlings and Martians to play our most popular game! It’s your favourite, it’s my favourite, it’s everybody’s favourite game . . .’ Worldly, the Continental Six and the EM soldiers were staring, open-mouthed. Harlan had everybody’s attention now. He milked the moment. And milked the moment some more. 146


Let’s Make a Deal . . . And milked it so much that it’s a wonder there was any milk left in the universe, before he finally screamed, ‘It’s time for ALIEN BRAIN DUMP!’ The music blared and Kelroy went into a complicated five-legged dance, while singing: ‘Alien Brain Dump! It’s Alien Brain Dump! Aren’t you excited that it’s Alien Brain Dump! . . . errr, let’s all play Alien Brain Dump! Because it’s Alien Brain Dump! time, Yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah . . .’ Worldly said loudly, ‘What is this, Earthling?’ Harlan smiled warmly at him and spread his arms. ‘What is this? This is your chance to win Ainsley back and to show everyone of Mars and its moons how brilliant you and your EM team are; how great your knowledge of Earth is; and how easy your invasion of Earth will ultimately be. You’ll probably end up as the President of Earth and Mars. It’s a once-in-a-lifetime TV moment, Mr Worldly. Are you in or are you out?’ ‘I’m in!’ Worldly looked a little dazed by the lights and cameras that had all turned towards him. But Harlan’s offer did sound pretty good. ‘Fantastic!’ The host was already giving the thumbs up to the camera. ‘In that case, could the contestants please make their way to the stage – Earthlings to the blue side, Martians to the red. We’ll be underway in just a few moments, after a word from our Martian TV network sponsors.’ Then he danced out of the spotlight, ducked his head and ran towards the stunned Fellowship members. Ainsley said, ‘Does anybody know a good doctor?’ Meanwhile in about 100,000 Martian households, 147


Thanks a Kazillion Martians watching on MartianLive5-D Vision said, ‘Curses! I hate it when they go to an ad break before we get to the first round of the game show.’ The moment Harlan had stopped talking, a team of Martian TV technicians began building a game-show set on the Star of Phobos parkland. In a whirl of frenzied activity, chairs were lined up, walls were painted and Martian camera-operators experimented with angles, and spoke to the control room via tiny headset microphones. Harlan was busy too. All at once, he was pulling on a sparkling purple jacket, twirling his shiny walking stick, shuffling question cards and checking his hair in a small mirror. ‘Lightning Rod? Any chance you could get your theme music to provide sound effects for the quiz? Oh, hang on, you’re a contestant so you’ll be busy. Hmmm, I’ll have to think of something else. Kelroy, nice work on the intro. Remember to keep the audience energy going between rounds. Has anybody got a glass of water? I’m going to need one behind the host podium . . .’ ‘Um, Harlan?’ It was Georgina. ‘Alien Brain Dump??????’ said Ainsley, coming straight to the point. ‘Listen, it’s our best chance,’ Harlan said. ‘Ainsley, you told us that Worldly thinks he knows more about Earth than people from Earth do, right? So we can use that. Ainsley and the other human kids are the grand prize. And when we win the quiz, he’ll have to let all of us go.’ ‘But he actually DOES know a lot about Earth, Harlan. He’s read encyclopedias and atlases and everything.’ ‘Well, I just have to make sure I ask questions he won’t know the answers to then, won’t I. Come on, let’s go. Martians are watching this on TV, you know . . . Kelroy called the local station when we snuck away.’ 148


Let’s Make a Deal . . . ‘I hope you know what you’re doing, Harlan.’ Harlan swung around, eyes shining. ‘I’ll be fine. I’ll make it up as I go along.’ Ainsley peered at her brother. ‘What happened to careful must-plan-every-step Harlan?’ ‘Ainsley. There are more than 400 EMs, and Worldly’s got the other Earth kids chained up. We had no plan, and I’m not letting you go again. I had to improvise. And you know what? I kind of like it!’ ‘We’ve created a monster,’ said Zucchini. ‘Or at the very least, a TV star,’ said Wandiligong. ‘Same thing,’ shrugged Zucchini. Harlan darted off to his position at the host’s podium. The Fellowship members made their way onto the brand new game-show set. They took a seat in the blue corner, and blinked in the brightness of the studio lights. Floating in front of each contestant was a big blue button in the shape of the Earth. Directly, across the studio floor, five of the Continental Six were seated in the red corner with red Mars buttons floating in front of them. Glowering, Worldly took a seat in the team captain’s chair and hurriedly straightened his toga. Ice hadn’t been able to take his place because the hot studio lights were melting his costume. He sat in the studio audience, awkwardly holding the hostages’ chains. Just off to the side, Alex and Gus stood guard in front of the glass box, in which sat the small shiny round object. The Fellowship of the Banana lined up, in order of appearance: Wandiligong Skyscraper, Larry, Georgina Drakedown, Lightning Rod, Fly Dog the Magnificent, Zucchini Spacestation and Ainsley Banana. Worldly growled at Larry. ‘What are you doing on their team, Martian? You should be with us. Traitor!’ 149


Thanks a Kazillion ‘Negative, Worldly. You think Kelroy and I want to join you and your wannabe Earthling idiots? I think not, togahead. You are not a Martian. You are a nincompoop.’ ‘A what?’ Worldly asked, face going red and his body starting to grow larger. ‘Oh no,’ said Ainsley. ‘He’s scary when this happens.’ ‘A nincompoop,’ repeated Larry, staring Worldly right in his blue flaming eye. ‘Five seconds until we’re live,’ said a Martian floor manager, breaking the tension. ‘Happy, everybody. Happy. Happy. Happy. Let’s make some great TV.’ Worldly shrank back to normal size. Larry poked his tongue out. Kelroy danced and waved his arms around in front of the studio audience, whipping up a frenzy of applause and hooting just as the MartianLive5-D Vision viewers returned from the ad break. The floor manager hissed, ‘Kelroy! Theme music. Quick!’ Kelroy looked panicked, but the fangular, boasting its shiny new crammed mouthful of enormous adult teeth, stepped into the spotlight, threw back its head and howled an upbeat, toe-tapping and perfectly timed tune that hit a crescendo just as Harlan stepped in front of the main camera, waving and smiling. ‘Thank you, Bitey Pete, for that fantastic introduction and thank you, Martian viewers at home, for joining us here on ALIEN BRAIN DUMP!’

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We’ve got an action-packed show tonight, so don’t go

anywhere,’ Harlan grinned into Camera 1. ‘Mars versus Earth, in a battle of knowledge. The stakes are high. If the Blue Team wins, then blue contestant number seven, Ainsley Banana, can go home with her friends. But if the Red Team wins, Ainsley Banana is stuck on Phobos forever, and forced to help red contestant number seven, Worldly, invade planet Earth.’ The studio audience burst into applause. Except the six Earth kids, who remained hungry, scared and chained together. Harlan grinned and gave the audience a cheery wave. ‘And let’s not forget that one lucky home viewer will receive a Dustblast Spangulatory-Turbo Vacuum Cleaner, so phone in now on your 5-D brainwave monitor hookup.’ Massive applause from the audience. Harlan gave them a wink. ‘Right, let’s get down to business. Mr Worldly, are you ready? Do you accept the rules, especially if you lose tonight’s game?’ Worldly nodded. ‘No.’ 151


Thanks a Kazillion ‘Wrong answer,’ said Harlan. ‘Sorry, sorry,’ said Worldly. ‘I agree. Anyway, I will win. Nobody can beat my superior knowledge of planet Earth. I know that the diameter of Earth is 12,742 kilometres. I know the population of Latvia is approximately 2.5 million people. I know that the tallest waterfalls on Earth are the Angel Falls in Venezuela, at 979 metres . . .’ ‘Well, good for you,’ said Harlan the host. ‘Ainsley Banana. Do you accept the rules and tonight’s outcome, whichever way it goes?’ ‘I guess so, if you think it’s a good idea,’ said Ainsley, looking uncertain. ‘Fantastic. Then it’s time for Round One.’ Bitey Pete threw back his head and sang a new round of game-show music while the MartianLive 5-D director cut from an overhead shot of the Star of Phobos, to the cheering crowd, to dancing host Harlan, to the Red Team and then to the Blue Team. He grinned when his assistant told him that the viewing audience was building as word of the great new show spread around Phobos. Over at the Blue Team, Wandiligong said, ‘Oh boy, I’m up first!’ ‘Let’s go, Bow!’ said Fly Dog the Magnificent. ‘Let’s get off to a flyer. Let’s be first out of the blocks. Let’s lead ’em like we got ’em. It’s not the size of the dog in the fight, it’s the size of the fight in the dog. Let’s kick some Martian butt!’ ‘Yeaaaahhhhh!’ shouted Wandiligong, totally pumped up. He raised his right hand, ready to high-five the dog. Unfortunately, Fly’s swinging paw missed the City Bow’s hand and smacked Wandiligong hard on the jaw. ‘That’s not a good start,’ said Lightning Rod. ‘Oops,’ said Fly. Harlan was grinning into Camera 2. ‘Time for Question 152


Know Your Planet One. It’s the Red Team’s Mex, the Mexican, up against the Blue Team’s Wandiligong Skyscraper . . . who appears to be unconscious.’ Wandiligong staggered to his feet and said, ‘No, no, Kevin, I’m totally ready to sit the maths test.’ ‘Uh oh,’ said Harlan. ‘Well, here’s the first question: What would you find between here and there?’ ‘Here and where?’ said Wandiligong. ‘No, here and there.’ ‘Here and there? What on Earth is between here and there?’ The Bow looked baffled. The Mexican sat staring at his red Mars button, brain churning. ‘Excuse me, my friendly amigo the host, but where exactly is this here that is not there but has something between it, if you know what I mean, gringo?’ Harlan gave the audience and the camera a wink. ‘I can’t give you any clues, I’m afraid, but I’ll repeat the question. What would you find between here and there?’ Mex and Wandiligong stared at one another. ‘A taco?’ Mexican guessed. ‘A café?’ tried Wandiligong. ‘A sombrero?’ ‘A railway station?’ ‘An enchilada?’ ‘A freeway?’ ‘Think about the words very carefully,’ said Harlan. Wandiligong’s entire face was scrunched up. ‘What’s between here and there?’ ‘Ay carumba. Between here and there,’ said Mex. ‘Between here and there. Between the word “here” and the word “there”.’ ‘Of course!’ Wandiligong hit his buzzer. ‘An office supplies store!’ 153


Thanks a Kazillion ‘I’m afraid not,’ said Harlan, just as Mexican’s buzzer sounded. ‘Yes, Mex?’ ‘The word “and”. In the sentence, what would you find between here and there, the answer is the word “and”.’ ‘Absolutely right. One point to the Red team!’ ‘Oh boy,’ said Wandiligong. ‘Don’t worry,’ said Fly. ‘That was a hard one. High five again!’ ‘No!!’ said Wandiligong but it was too late. Smack! Fly accidentally socked him in the jaw. Harlan was doing his game-show host dance. ‘One point to zero, favouring Worldly and the locals. Now, from the Red Team, please welcome Swedish! He’s a Viking who likes furniture, cars and tennis. And for the Blue Team, please welcome, Larry, a local boy with a soft spot for humans.’ Larry and Swedish huddled over their buzzers. Harlan pulled out a card. ‘What was the name of the 1970s Swedish band that had mega musical hits including Waterloo, Fernando and Dancing Queen?’ Larry buzzed. ‘Bucks Fizz? The Starland Vocal Band? Ace of Base? Thor the God of Thunder?’ Swedish hit the buzzer. ‘ABBA! The Swedish band is ABBA!’ ‘Correct. Bad luck, Larry.’ The studio audience went wild in support of the home team. The chained Earth kids looked horrified but tried to start a half-hearted chant in support of the Blues. ‘Mama Mia!’ said Larry. ‘We hate girl–boy bands here on Mars.’ ‘That was an interesting fact about Martian music,’ said Kelroy. ‘Two points to zero for the Red Team,’ said Harlan, 154


Know Your Planet going a little pale. ‘Moving right along, it’s the Blue Team’s Georgina up against Ken, the Red Team’s African tribesman.’ Putting his hand over the microphone for a second, Harlan said, ‘Hey, Georgie. The good guys could use a point.’ ‘Tell me about it,’ she said. ‘Just don’t ask me about rock bands from the 1970s!’ To the audience, Harlan said, ‘Georgina likes dolphins, sharks and rollerblading. Ken doesn’t like gherkins. Are you ready? Name the two human villains who helped the Lord of Bark and the fishface in their unsuccessful attempt to invade Earth.’ ‘You have got to be kidding,’ said Kenyan. ‘Who’s the Lord of Bark?’ Bzzzzzzzzzzzzz. Georgina’s buzzer almost broke, she pounded it so hard. ‘Stranglenose and Grassmuncher!’ she cried. ‘Absolutely and completely correct! The Blue team is on the scoreboard.’ Harlan did a river dance of relief. The chained Earth kids and the other members of the Blue team whooped and cheered. ‘Two points to the Red team but here come the Blues, as we go to a commercial break,’ said Harlan. ‘Don’t touch that dial.’ ‘You idiot, Kenyan!’ roared Worldly. ‘Who have we been dealing with all year, preparing our invasion?’ ‘Oh, that Stranglenose, Grassmuncher and Lord of Bark,’ said Ken. ‘But how would I know about the fishface battle? It didn’t happen in Africa.’ ‘There was a book written about it. You should read more,’ Harlan said. ‘Anyway, there’s plenty of time left if you’re good enough. Okay, we’re back on.’ 155


Thanks a Kazillion The audience went nuts with applause and then the lights came up. ‘You’re watching ALIEN BRAIN DUMP! live from the Star of Phobos where Worldly’s Red Team leads two points to one,’ Harlan told the viewers at home. ‘The Earth team wouldn’t want to drop another point here. Our next contestant is in training to join the Continental Six. Please welcome Earth Martian Dwayne for the Red Team. He’ll be playing against the one who scares the dark, a genuine superhero and a heck of a guy. Yes, it’s Lightning Rod!’ There was polite applause from the audience. The team captains, Worldly and Ainsley, looked tense. Harlan read from a card. ‘Dwayne and William, your question is: What is the name of the creature who is completely black and terrifies frongles in the Fruitfly Bay distr—’ Bzzzzzzzzzz. ‘Mr Shadow!’ Lightning Rod had said the answer before Dwayne had heard the end of the question. The audience went nuts. Lightning Rod’s personal theme music played a victory song that drowned out Bitey Pete’s game-show song. The chained Earth kids stomped their feet. Harlan did a full 360-degree spin. ‘A second point to the Blue team! Scores are level at two-all. Well played, Lightning Rod. Heroic as ever.’ ‘It was nothing . . . at least not for me,’ said Lightning Rod. Worldly threw all four hands in the air. ‘Everybody knows it’s Mr Shadow, Dwayne, you moron!’ he said. ‘Oh crikey, he was too fast,’ complained Dwayne. ‘Faster than an emu chasing a wombat. Sorry, Boss.’ Harlan was playing to the camera, grinning and waving his arms around. ‘Oh boy, this is getting exciting. For 156


Know Your Planet Round five, please welcome the Red Team’s Japa-sneeze against Fly Dog the Magnificent for the Blue Team.’ Japa-sneeze looked nervous. Fly had her ears cocked and her tail still. Harlan smiled at them both. ‘Japa-sneeze, I understand that you are a karate expert, a skilled cook and that your hobbies include soccer, computer games and origami.’ ‘Nagoya! Kawasaki!’ stammered Japa-sneeze. He’d never been on TV before. Harlan beamed. ‘And Fly, I believe you are very fond of chasing balls.’ ‘Oh yes, Harlan. Love chasing a ball!’ said Fly, tail thumping. ‘That’s just great. Alright, here’s your question. Good luck to you both: Is it true or false that frogs have teeth?’ Japa-sneeze said, ‘Huh?’ Fly’s paw pounded the buzzer. Harlan swung around to the dog. ‘Yes, Fly?’ ‘It’s true, Harlan,’ said Fly. ‘Most frogs do have teeth. There are very small cone teeth around the upper edge of the jaw, called maxillary teeth, and some frogs also have vomerine teeth on the roof of their mouth. The thing is, they don’t have teeth on their lower jaw, so they usually swallow their food whole anyway.’ Japa-sneeze said, ‘Huh?’ Harlan moonwalked across the studio. ‘Absolutely right, Fly Dog the Magnificent! Blue Team is in the lead for the first time today! It’s three points to two. Blue Team is only one correct answer from victory! Commercial break!’ The studio lights dimmed as the Fellowship of the Banana members and the chained kids in the studio audience went wild with delight. Fly barked with joy. Harlan rushed over to the dog. ‘Looks like the Pool of 157


Thanks a Kazillion Knowledge waters haven’t worn off yet, hey Fly Dog?’ ‘I haven’t forgotten about that girl at your school, Cassandra Wright, either,’ said Fly. ‘Okay, back to work,’ said Harlan, quickly turning and stalking across the studio. Over in the Red Team corner of the studio, Worldly put two massive hands on American’s shoulders. With his other two hands, he pointed two index fingers at American’s chest. ‘American, you better win this next point. Or else.’ American gulped. ‘Dang, Boss. I’ll do my best.’ Worldly grabbed his shoulder so tightly that American gasped in pain. In a low, dangerous voice, he growled, ‘American, if your best isn’t good enough, then that’s not what I want.’ ‘Hot dang, Boss . . . all I can do is my—’ Worldly pressed even harder on American’s shoulder. ‘What I want, if I haven’t made myself clear, is for you to WIN! Got that, knucklehead? WIN. WIN. WIN. No matter what.’ Watching all this from across the studio, Georgina said to Ainsley, ‘He’d never make it as a junior footy coach.’ ‘He’s a creep,’ Ainsley said. Her knees were shaking. Even though her side was now in the lead, she was still one correct answer away from being safe. Rubbing his shoulders, American hunched over his buzzer, ready for Round Six. Ainsley’s concern wasn’t helped by the sight of Zucchini Spacestation, buried in a book with the title: Congratulations on Your Decision to be a Game-Show Contestant. The commercial break ended and Harlan sprang into action. ‘Things are hotting up here on ALIEN BRAIN DUMP! with the Blue team, battling to save Ainsley 158


Know Your Planet Banana, leading three–two and only one answer away from victory! Are you ready for your question, American EM?’ ‘Darn tootin’,’ said American. ‘Excuse me?’ said Harlan. ‘Readier than a coyote outside a rabbit hole, pardner.’ Harlan paused again. ‘Is that very ready? Or not ready at all . . .’ ‘It’s readier than a cowboy in a hoedown!’ ‘Oooooo-kay,’ said Harlan, rolling his eyes and winking into Camera 5. ‘And are you ready, Zucchini.’ ‘I will be if you secretly tell me the answer in advance.’ ‘Sorry, old friend. I can’t do that.’ ‘Rats,’ said Zucchini. Harlan held up the card. ‘The question is: What was the name of the hero of the Wild West who was famous for chasing large American beasts?’ Zucchini buzzed instantly. ‘Daffy Duck!’ ‘No, Zucchini, you’re wrong. American?’ But Zucchini buzzed again. ‘Michael Jordan. E.T. The Blues Brothers. Shrek. Charlie Chaplin. Abraham Lincoln. Madonna. Bart Simpson. Muhammad Ali? Adam Sandler?? Peter Pan???’ ‘Wrong, wrong, wrong. Wrong on every count.’ American buzzed. ‘I do believe the cowboy in question is Buffalo Bill.’ ‘Absolutely correct!’ said Harlan, with a glint in his eye. As he spoke, there was a strange wrenching sound in the air, then a rumbling, and then out of nowhere appeared the most enormous and ugly frog anybody had ever seen. It was grey, with long, ugly fangs sticking out of its mouth. It had slime all over it and huge wheels where its legs should have been. The wheels were so large that the creature’s 159


Thanks a Kazillion body was high above the ground, although its tongue looked long enough to reach anywhere. It also had rows of sharp teeth. The live audience scrambled in all directions, screaming, and everybody else looked on in horror. Lightning Rod yelled: ‘A long-fanged monster-truck cane toad! He said the words! The American EM said the one thing that makes them appear!’ American looked horrified as he realised the longfanged monster-truck cane toad only had eyes for him. He screamed, and bolted, racing off across the Star of Phobos parkland with the enormous cane toad rumbling after him, tongue flicking at the heels of the Martian’s five flying feet. They disappeared over a hill and the sound of American’s screams and the rumble of the long-fanged monster-truck cane toad’s wheels and snapping tongue slowly died away. Harlan grinned. ‘American got the answer right. You’re watching ALIEN BRAIN DUMP! and that seems like as good a cue as any for a word from our sponsors. Don’t go away. On the other side of the break we have the final question and scores are locked at three–all.’ Harlan’s hosting skills had not slipped despite the chaos following the appearance of the long-fanged monster-truck cane toads. ‘Harlan. You’re pretty good at this,’ said Georgina. ‘Thanks, Georgie,’ Harlan replied. On the studio TV monitor, a voiceover told MartianLive5-D Vision viewers that a new brand of Saturn teabags had three times the usual number of dead ants. The Earth Martians and the chained Earth kids were all too tense to talk. They went back to their studio audience seats in silence. 160


Know Your Planet In the middle of it all, the hulking, toga-clad figure of Worldly turned slightly red as his flaming blue eyes stared straight at Ainsley Banana. There was one question to go.

161


P 22

Game Over The floor manager signalled 30 seconds. Ainsley felt sick to her stomach. One buzzer to decide between her safety and a life-sentence of misery on Phobos. Ainsley snuck a glance at Worldly and saw his eyes flickering with blue flame. The five remaining members of the Continental Six looked a little nervous. Ainsley turned her gaze to her brother, who had so unexpectedly become a world-class game show host. She tried to catch his eye but he was busy talking to the director through a small microphone on his chest. And now the floor manager was counting down, ‘Three . . . two . . . and one . . . happy, happy, happy!’ They were back on. Harlan assumed a confident pose. ‘Hello and thank you for staying with us for the dramatic, the draining, the absolutely electrifying conclusion to tonight’s show,’ he said. ‘This is it. The moment we’ve all been waiting for. For the Red team, we have their leader, an awesome pool of Earthly knowledge in a toga. This Martian doesn’t have any hobbies or any friends. He hopes to conquer the Earth, very soon, one continent at a time. Please welcome, Worldly, leader of the Earth Martians!’ 162


Game Over The Martian audience went wild, barracking hard for the local boy. The chained Earth kids hissed and booed until Worldly glared at them and they froze in fright. Harlan waved briefly in Ainsley’s direction. ‘And for the Blue Team, the girl whose entire future hinges on the next 30 seconds . . . Ainsley Banana.’ There was polite applause from the Martian audience although six skinny Earth kids, two Bows, one dog, one superhero, one almost-sister and two Martians cheered as loudly as they could. Ainsley was nervous. Harlan still wouldn’t make eye contact. She took a deep breath and settled her hands over the buzzer. Across the studio, Worldly was smug – confident he was about to drag her back to a cage at EM headquarters. Ainsley blinked twice, trying hard not to cry. She had to concentrate on the question. ‘Here we go, folks. This is it. The final question of the night. It doesn’t get any closer than this! Worldly, Ainsley your question is . . .’ Everybody was holding his or her breath. Kelroy, who had begun holding his breath as soon as the last question was asked, had turned blue. ‘The question is: Up until earlier today, which brother and sister, who have had their differences lately, missed each other more than they would miss life itself?’ Harlan’s eyes met Ainsley’s at the exact moment that he finished reading the question, and he smiled as he saw her react. Ainsley felt the smile spreading on her face, and the tears welling in her eyes, even as she started to press down on the buzzer. But her buzzer didn’t sound. It had been short circuited by the fact that Worldly, across the studio floor, had already 163


Thanks a Kazillion pressed his buzzer. The buzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzz of Worldly’s buzzer tore right through Ainsley’s heart. Harlan’s jaw dropped as he realised the buzzing was coming from the wrong side of the studio. The Fellowship of the Banana members gasped in horror. Worldly chuckled quietly as he kept his hand on the buzzer. ‘I think I know the answer to that question, Mr Banana.’ Worldly’s voice was silky and evil. ‘I think there must have been a mistake,’ Harlan stammered. ‘I think Ainsley’s buzzer must be faulty.’ ‘Or she wasn’t quick enough to press it. Come, come, Mr Banana. Don’t be a bad sport. Surely as the host of the show and the one who made the rules, you have the grace to admit you’ve been beaten at your own game. I’m going to deliver the answer to your pathetic question and then I will be on my way with your sister and those other snivelling human children. I have invasion plans to prepare.’ Harlan slumped and Ainsley stared at the ground. ‘Get on with it then, toga-head,’ said Zucchini. Worldly smiled an oily smile in the Bow’s direction. ‘Certainly, Mr Spacestation. Until earlier today, a brother and sister were separated. They have had many large and small arguments in their past and had not seen each other for some time. But thanks to today’s unexpected events, they are finally back together. I give you, Alex and Gus! The finest brother–sister guarding team on Mars!’ Alex and Gus blinked at one another in amazement. Harlan was no longer slumping. ‘A very fine answer, Mr Worldly, but unfortunately – for you – wrong!’ Ainsley pounded the button in front of her and heard the glorious sound of her buzzer. ‘The correct answer is Harlan and Ainsley Banana!’ she shouted. 164


Game Over Harlan threw all his cards up in the air. ‘Correct, Ainsley.’ ‘WHAT????’ yelled Worldly. ‘For the past few months, Ainsley and I have fought and argued and found it hard to be in the same place, despite the triumph of our Kazillion Wish quest last summer,’ said Harlan. ‘But Ainsley’s kidnapping made me realise how important my sister is in my life. I rely on her for support, for friendship and for her jokes, and – I’m going to say it, right here on TV – I love her as much as any brother could ever love a sister.’ Georgina cheered louder than the other Fellowship members. Harlan grinned at his sister. ‘Looking at Ainsley right now, I know the feeling’s mutual so, Alex and Gus, unless you disagree . . .’ The guards looked at one another, eyebrows raised. ‘Sounds fair to me,’ said Gus. Alex nodded. ‘Yeah, me and Gus have got lots of counselling to get through before we could honestly say we feel like we’ve been missing one another more than life itself.’ Then she added, to Worldly. ‘Sorry, Boss.’ Harlan looked straight down Camera 1 and gave his finest game-show host grin. ‘In that case, Ainsley’s answer is correct. The final score is four points to three. Blue team wins!’

165


N 23

The Sore Loser ‘

S

orry?’ squealed Worldly, lurching back from his contestant’s chair. ‘SORRY???? And YOU, Bananas. You stand here, on my moon, and expect me to GIVE UP all my PLANS, all my DREAMS of conquering Earth?’ Worldly was expanding in size at an alarming rate. He had already turned deep red, and his eyes were ablaze with the most intense blue fire yet. His voice shook the flimsy walls of the new TV studio. The Fellowship of the Banana members shrank back. Even the Continental Six huddled together in fear. ‘Well, I am NOT just going to shrug and say, “Well done”! YOU HEAR ME??’ Worldly reached into the glass box and snatched the small round shiny object. Harlan had no idea what the thing was, but fear prickled through his whole body. It didn’t help that the remaining members of the Continental Six all screamed. ‘Ay carumba! He’s going to use the Universal Mega Death Vapour-Bubble Bomb.’ yelled Mexican. ‘We’re all going to die!’ wailed Kenyan. ‘The entire universe is done for,’ cried Japa-sneeze. The Fellowship of the Banana members gazed at each 166


The Sore Loser other in horror. Harlan felt a strange stillness in the chaos. It was as though the universe itself had stopped and the entire galaxy’s attention was focused right on this spot, at the Star of Phobos, where a madman in a toga was about to end it all. Worldly said, ‘If you don’t take back that last question, I won’t detonate this bomb.’ ‘What a relief,’ said Zucchini. ‘Let’s get to The Beast before he changes his mind,’ ‘WAIT!! I meant to say that I WILL detonate this bomb, destroying the entire universe!’ ‘Rats,’ said Zucchini. ‘Boss, you can’t!’ It was Kenyan. ‘That thing will destroy Phobos, Mars, Earth . . . everything.’ ‘If I can’t have Earth, nobody can,’ said Worldly, stroking the bomb. At any moment, the deadly VapourBubble would explode across Phobos, then shoot to Mars, and to the Earth, and on and on throughout the universe. It wasn’t good. Mexican fell to his five knees in front of his boss. ‘Worldly, amigo! Why don’t we sit down with a cup of tea and a chat about this like a couple of compadres, no?’ ‘It’s too late, Mexican. The Continental Six are out of business. American’s being chased by a giant toad, Dwayne is never going to be an Australian, and the rest of you are pathetic!’ ‘Pathetic is a strong word,’ said Swedish, the Viking. ‘We are not so bad.’ ‘That’s the last time I put ice in your lemonade,’ grumbled Antarctican, taking off his ice necklaces and bangles, and unbuttoning his freezing snowy shirt. His voice changed from chilly iceman to a normal Martian voice. ‘I’ve had it with this clown.’ 167


Thanks a Kazillion ‘Me, too,’ said Mexican, removing his sombrero and dropping his fake accent. ‘This is nuts.’ ‘I’m going back to accounting,’ said Ken, throwing away his tribal spear. Worldly loomed dangerously in the middle of the studio, the cameras still glued to his every move – it was MartianLive5-D Vision’s greatest single evening of viewing, ever! ‘Forget accountancy, Kenyan! Forget invading pathetic Earth! Forget everything. TONIGHT WE ALL DIE!’ ‘Boss, please stop talking like that or I shall be forced to perform some very nasty karate moves on you,’ warned Japa-sneeze. ‘Oh, please,’ snarled Worldly, growing ever larger and redder. ‘You couldn’t fight your way out of a paper bag. It’s over. You hear me? It’s OVER! Tonight is the night that the universe learns what the Universal Mega Death VapourBubble Bomb can do. SAY GOODNIGHT!’ Worldly flicked a glowing switch and the Universal Mega Death Vapour-Bubble Bomb gave a high-pitched screech. Everybody gasped. The Earth Martian leader hurled the bomb as high into the air as he could. It soared into space, clear of the studio lights, flashing and shining against the blackness of the night and the stars, then it plunged back towards the ground. Lightning Rod closed his eyes, Larry and Kelroy screamed, Zucchini and Wandiligong cowered, what was left of the Continental Six howled and the fangular snarled. Harlan and Ainsley Banana and their almost-sister, Georgina Drakedown, simply stood with their arms around one another, and waited for the impact. Only Fly Dog the Magnificent had not heard a single word of Worldly’s speech. She had been concentrating, as 168


The Sore Loser only a dog can, on the thing in his hand. As far as Fly was concerned, the Universal Mega Death Vapour-Bubble Bomb was about the size and shape of a tennis ball, and had some fun lights and buttons on it for extra chewing enjoyment. As Worldly stormed around making his threats, Fly had been crouching expertly, all four paws ready to take off in whichever direction the game of fetch was to be played. As it happened, Worldly’s throw was straight up in the air, so Fly had to move less than ten metres to her left. Her eyes never left the little ball as it flew. All boasting of being a leading Tack Dog aside, Fly was a world-class fetcher and this was her moment. As the Universal Mega Death Vapour-Bubble Bomb tumbled back to Phobos, needing only to make contact with the surface to explode its bubble of death, Fly rose to meet it, mouth open and catching calculations doggedly perfect. In fact, she was so eager to catch the ball-shaped bomb that she leapt high off the ground and just kept rising up and up and up to meet the ball. ‘Hey, Fly CAN fly!’ said Ainsley. The Universal Mega Death Vapour-Bubble Bomb never made it to Phobos. Instead, it was swallowed by a flying blonde labradoodle who clomped both sets of teeth firmly onto it, neatly hitting the off button before a wave of slobber destroyed the bomb. ‘NO!!!!!!!!’ Worldly howled in rage as his final dastardly plan was ruined. He howled right up until Ainsley Banana walked quickly away from a huddle with two Bows and gave him a piece of paper. Ainsley gave her kidnapper a look of disgust. ‘Hey, loser?’ she said. ‘Read this.’ ‘What?’ roared Worldly. He held the piece of paper in 169


Thanks a Kazillion one of his four hands. ‘BUFFALO BILL? What on Phobos would I want with Buffalo Bill?’ Wandiligong giggled. ‘Nice one, little Banana.’ Zucchini Spacestation laughed out loud. ‘Hey Ainsley, he said it twice.’ A strange wrenching sound filled the air. Ainsley stood, hands on hips in front of Worldly, who was at least four times her size. ‘Don’t even think about invading my planet ever again, toga-boy,’ she said. ‘And stay away from Fruitfly Bay.’ The wrenching sound got louder, turned into a rumbling and suddenly not one but two long-fanged monster-truck cane toads appeared, growling and roaring and crashing to the Phobos surface with their massive wheels. They rolled towards Worldly who shrieked, and ran for it. Their last sight of him was of a large red Martian in a flapping sheet being chased by giant toads as he disappeared into the distance. MartianLive5-D Vision went to an ad break.

170


p 24

Home, Sweet Home ‘

Never, ever, ever have I been so pleased to be home,’

said Ainsley Banana. It had taken a while to leave Phobos – the Fellowship had to say goodbye to Bitey Pete, then wait for Harlan to stop signing autographs for game-show-loving Martians. Then they had to help the former members of the Continental Six break up Worldly’s army. They were going to make them destroy their costumes but the Continental Five, plus Dwayne, thought the uniforms were a good look for their new boy band. They agreed to only use their EM costumes for good, not evil, and Lightning Rod accepted their promise, on behalf of the Fellowship. Even then, at full speed in The Beast, it took time to drop the six kidnapped kids back to their homes in Sweden, Kenya, Japan, the USA, Mexico and finally a small island at the very bottom of Argentina, in a very, very cold place called Cabo de Hornos – or Cape Horn, if you prefer. When The Beast finally hurtled to a heart-stopping landing at Fruitfly Bay, two frongles were waiting to meet it. Zootfrog was shining like freshly polished gold and swooping little loops in the air, she was so happy to see 171


Thanks a Kazillion Ainsley safe and well. The Fruitfly Bay Frongle Collective’s Human Relations Consultant, Moogwig, gave them a fake smile. ‘Nice work, everyone,’ he said. ‘Let’s try to keep this whole thing out of the newspapers, shall we? All’s well that ends well. I don’t see any need for this episode to be talked about once the frongle fog is lifted.’ ‘You think frongles will look bad? Worldly almost made us Martians look worse than a hamburger joint without gherkins,’ said Larry. ‘That’s true,’ said Kelroy, buried in a book. ‘Hey, silly Martian person, weren’t you supposed to say, “That was an interesting fact about . . .’’?’ asked Zucchini. Kelroy grinned. ‘Sorry, Bow person. I forgot. I just discovered an island in Western Australia that Larry and I could explore in the name of Martian Discovery. It has surfboard hire, ice cream shops, bicycles, lots of cafés and little rat-kangaroos called quokkas.’ Larry and Kelroy raced to The Beast and saluted their friends. ‘For Mars!’ said Larry. ‘For Mars,’ said Kelroy. And they blasted off to discover Rottnest Island yet again. Moments after their departure, there was a loud crash and several Bows were suddenly lying on the ground, holding body parts and groaning. Zucchini’s sister, Bikini Spacestation, and cousin, Zanzibar, had arrived with an enthusiastic Bow greeting. Once the three of them recovered, they wanted to hear all about Zucchini’s Mystery Tour and spent several minutes admiring his haircut – especially the blue spikes on his chin. ‘With his teeth from outside the room!’ marvelled Zanzi. ‘Very nice work.’ 172


Home, Sweet Home On the front doorstep of their house, Harlan and Ainsley grinned at one another. Any minute, Zootfrog would wake Spencer Banana and Dinah Drakedown, and the rest of the town. But for now, it was just them. ‘It’s very good to have you home,’ said Harlan, giving his sister a bone-cruncher of a hug. ‘I promise to never fight again.’ ‘Don’t be stupid, Harlan. Of course we’ll fight. But that’s okay. It’s what’s in here that counts.’ Ainsley pointed to her heart. Wandiligong hugged Zucchini, to say goodbye. ‘You’re going, so soon?’ said Zucchini. ‘No time for a party?’ Wandiligong pulled a large suitcase out of his bottomless coat pocket. ‘I’m afraid not, my crazy space vegetable friend. It’s time for this City Bow to get back to the smog, the pollution, the traffic jams, the chaos, the smell and all the other things I love about the city!’ ‘But Wandiligong, I was hoping you’d let me have a go on your twelve-wheel skateboard at the skate park before the town wakes up,’ said Georgina. ‘Oh yeah,’ said Harlan. ‘The empty skate park! I forgot!’ Wandiligong looked at his board. ‘Here, Georgina. It’s yours. I’ve never been able to ride it anyway. Just watch the vertical button – I thought that iceman was going to be in orbit forever.’ ‘Wow, thanks!’ said Georgina, taking the skateboard. ‘Harlan, want a turn?’ ‘Do I??!! Would you mind?’ ‘What kind of almost-sister wouldn’t share a new skateboard with her own family?’ said Georgina. Harlan grinned so hard he thought his face might burst. As Wandiligong turned to leave, something small, round 173


Thanks a Kazillion and slobbery struck him between the shoulder blades. ‘No time to throw just one ball?’ asked Fly Dog the Magnificent. ‘Sorry, fluffy pants,’ said the Bow, ‘I have to go.’ Fly stared at him with huge sad-dog eyes. Wandiligong rolled his eyes. ‘Well, I guess you did save the universe . . .’ And Wandiligong pulled one ball out of his pocket, then another, then another and then another and finally there were 37 tennis balls in a pile in front of him. He threw them so fast his arms were a blur, so that all 37 were suddenly in midair, sailing across the foreshore towards the beach. Fly yelped with pleasure and charged off to start collecting them. Finally Wandiligong waved to them all and sauntered down the street, whistling a ballad about a Martian hand called Simon. Zucchini blinked away a tear. ‘Well, I don’t usually get emotional but boy, oh boy, will I miss old . . . what was his name again?’ ‘Wandiligong,’ said Harlan. ‘Yeah, him,’ Zucchini beamed. ‘Hey Zootfrog, what’s wrong?’ The golden frongle had a look of sheer terror on her face. When they turned to look, there was a large utterly black figure gliding towards them. Mr Shadow had a long finger pointing directly at Zootfrog. ‘You! YOOOUUUUUU!!!!!’ he said. Everybody gasped and Lightning Rod rose Heroically into the air, concentrating his super-powered light onto the floating creature. But it closed in on the golden frongle. Zootfrog couldn’t take it anymore. ‘WHAT DO YOU WANT?’ She snapped. ‘What, already? I am not going to 174


Home, Sweet Home keep running away from you, you great big black shadowy person, you! What do you want from me?’ Mr Shadow stood in front of them like a moving ink stain and said in a voice that was like a breeze from beyond the grave, ‘You parked across my driveway, when you took this boy to frongle headquarters. Is there any chance you could move your car please?’ Zootfrog looked confused, then relieved. ‘Oh right, Okay, sure. No problem. Sorry about that. See you later, guys.’ And she flew into the sky and away towards frongle headquarters. Mr Shadow nodded once to the group and then drifted off in the same direction. ‘I take it that was Mr Shadow,’ said Ainsley. ‘You guess right,’ Harlan replied. ‘Let’s just hope he never turns up as a teacher at school.’

175


O

After the Final Chapter

...

It was a quiet afternoon in the Starry Eye Café. All the usual customers were in Fruitfly Bay, celebrating the rescue of Ainsley Banana. Even Lightning Rod hadn’t yet flown in to catch up with his brother. Macklin, The One Who Moves The Stars, was all alone, wiping the benches, tinkering with the occasional planet or star lever and getting ready to close up early, when he heard a strange sound like a gentle sigh near the front door. He looked up but there was no-one there. Yet, it was strange. There was something there. Macklin could sense a presence in front of the counter. He held his breath, and clutched the tea-towel in a vice-like grip. ‘Who’s there?’ he asked in a small 8-year-old voice. Drifting like an almost silent whisper, a voice came to him. ‘May I have a muffin and a ladybird milkshake, please?’ Macklin smiled. ‘Why certainly. Please sit at the blue table. It’s coming right up!’ He felt the presence shift, towards the table, and Macklin smiled broadly at the otherwise empty café. Then he changed his new sign, so that it now read: Number of ghosts served at the Starry Eye Café: 1

176


ABOUT THE AUTHOR Nick Place is a professional wirter, living in Melbourne, Australia, with a young superhero, a boy who moves the stars and a woman who endures a lot. He also shares a house with a dog called Fly and a cat called Choo Choo. He has a large collection of 1960s Mr Potato Heads, but hopes he doesn’t look like any of them.

ACKNOWLEDGEMENTS To Anna and the boys for their support. To my wider circle of family and friends for wild enthusiasm, to Michael for giving me time and space from Giant endeavours when I’ve needed it, and to Jodie, Rosalind, Angela and Victoria at Allen & Unwin for everything.


o

Don’t miss out on Harlan and Ainsley Banana’s first laugh-out-loud adventure.

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Thanks a Kazillion

Thanks a Million

Thanks a Million

Thanks, Jim

Thanks for the Memories

PLEASE SAY THANKS

Loveswept - thanks giving

Thanks for the Memories

Thanks To The Saint

Thanks for the Memories

Thanks to Bunter

Thanks for the Memories

Thanks for the Memories

So Long, And Thanks For All t

So Long, And Thanks For All The Fish

So Long and Thanks for All the Fish.txt

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