Harry Cavendish Read Online Free Page B

decoy,’ said Pranzilla, and the viewpoint began to move, picking up at first nothing but blackness interspersed with flecks of distant light, but, as it reached the end of its arc, Cormack could see the decoy trailing from the transporter on its thread like the float on the end of a fishing line strung from a boat.
    ‘Very good!’ said Proton. ‘Convincing, isn’t it, Cormack? Now let’s begin the cloaking procedure.’
    ‘Captain says start the cloaking procedure,’ said Pranzilla.
    The senior Guard went back to the hold with his crew of five and returned, with what to Cormack looked like a handful of black bin liners.
    ‘We’re going to start at the front,’ he said to Proton, pointing towards the prow.
    The Guards put on hefty looking spacesuits and moved to the side of the cockpit where there was a small door that led to an airlock. Proton wished them well. Then they went through the door and into the chamber and it was locked and sealed tight.
    Then he went back to the scanner and started thrumming his fingers on the armrests of his chair, impatiently waiting for news.
    ‘How are they doing?’ he said, when he could bear it no longer, and Pranzilla swung the camera round from the model so that it pointed towards the front of the transporter ship.
    Cormack could see two of the Guards straddled across the front of the ship, fitting the bin liners over the ship’s white panels. They had already finished the bit at the top over the nose cone.
    ‘Goodness, they’re slow,’ said Proton.
    It all seemed very lo-tech to Cormack, but Proton was reassuring.
    ‘Sometimes you can out-smart yourself, Cormack. Don’t worry – special material. Very clever stuff,’ he said. ‘I’ve been planning this operation ever since I heard about you. There’s more complexity in it than you can imagine. For instance, between you and me, the model has seventeen moving parts…’
    Cormack sneaked a look at Proton’s scanner, and saw that the blob that represented the Emperor’s battle-cruiser was getting very close to the centre of the screen.
    At last there was a signal from Pranzilla and the airlock door was opened and the Guards came back in.
    ‘Slight problem, Captain,’ said the most senior.
    ‘What?’ said Proton.
    ‘Ran out of material on top.’
    ‘Oh gosh!’
    ‘There’s a panel we haven’t covered. We need some extras.’
    ‘There aren’t any more in the hold?’
    ‘Not when we checked. We could look again.’
    ‘Yes, do that. Look again.’
    But there were none to be found.
    ‘Could we use the cow?’ asked Proton.
    ‘For heaven’s sake,’ said Cormack.
    ‘She’s leathery. She’s mostly black. I think she might work very well.’
    ‘We could paint the spots, Captain,’ said the Guard.
    The cow was glad to be out of the hold, which was very cold, and didn’t mind the paint at all.
    ‘You’re tickling me!’ she said to the Guard with the paintbrush.
    They gave her a helmet to put on her head and she was led on a leash to the airlock, giggling at her reflection in the mirror glass at the top of the door.
    When she was outside, Pranzilla moved the camera to observe her. They could see she was comfortably settled, secured on the fusillade with magnetic straps, and she gave Cormack a little wave with a hoof.
    Proton sat staring at the scanner with a look of deep concern on his face.
    ‘Battle-cruiser imminent. There going to have a lock on any moment.’
    ‘We’re getting signals from them, Captain,’ said Pranzilla.
    ‘Let me hear them.’
    Across the speaker system came a tinny voice.
    ‘Praetorian Guard and all aboard the Zargonic Transporter!’ it said. ‘Surrender immediately! Return the McFadden Creature! It is your Emperor’s command!’
    ‘Ignore them for now,’ said Proton.
    ‘Praetorian Guard!’ continued the voice. ‘We have orders from the Emperor to destroy you and your craft if you do not surrender immediately!’
    ‘I think they’ve got a lock on, Captain,’