Seventeen
Time froze. It stretched out ahead of him like eternity. On its rock, the spider gazed back unblinkingly. It hadn't moved for about a thousand years, or so it felt like. Still bent over with Snowy looking up at him, Tintin considered his options. If he moved, the spider would move. He knew it. He could feel it in the pit of his stomach. Taking his eyes off it wasn't an option, so he stared at it and wondered what the hell he could do. It easily came up to his knees – it was bigger than Snowy! – so stepping on it wasn't an option.
He wondered how fast it could move, and decided he didn't want to know the answer to that after all.
"Ok," he said in a low voice. He took a step back. The spider stayed where it was, completely still, just watching him with that same look of mild observation. Between his legs, Snowy finally looked over his shoulder and spotted the creature. The dog gave a frightened yelp and took off, running full tilt away. Well, that solved one problem: Snowy wasn't about to fight it in an ill-advised way.
"Ok," he said again. Still keeping his eyes on the monster, he felt around the ground until his hand brushed against a likely rock. He picked it up and liked the fact that he had to hold it in two hands. It was big. It was a good-sized rock for crushing a giant spider. Well, not crushing it, but at least stunning it. Maybe even squishing it a bit. Definitely incapacitating it.
"Ok." He took a deep breath, straightened up slowly, and took aim. He counted to three in his head, trying to stop his hands from shaking, and let the rock fly.
It was heavy. It was a very heavy rock. It swooped in a low arc and smacked against the boulder the spider was standing on. He'd missed! The noise jerked the spider into action and it shot forward, it's horrible legs making a horrible clicking noise as it tore towards him. It moved faster than any creature its size had any right to move!
He turned and ran, hearing the dreadful clicking as the beast raced after him. He looked around wildly, trying to keep his balance as he sprinted over the rocky ground. He stumbled once, kept his feet, and put on a burst of speed, too afraid to chance a look over his shoulder to see how close it was to him. He wondered if it was poisonous, and then realised that he didn't want to know the answer to that either.
The ground shook.
Another earthquake rocked the strange island, making it tremble underneath him. This time when he stumbled he went down, tumbling down the slope as the ground tilted forward even more. He quickly flipped onto his back and sat up, but the spider was already there. It stood only a few feet away from him, staring at him as it planned its next move. This close to it, he could see that its whole body was hairy and bristly, and it's legs were like something from a nightmare. He eased himself up a little, hoping he would get the chance to run for it before those horrible pincers sank into his flesh. Worse case scenario, he figured, was that he'd be able to kick its face in when it came too close.
He watched as the muscles in its thorax bunched, and knew it was going to try and overwhelm him. He took a deep breath and, as the thing started forward, kicked out wildly.
THUNK!
He'd missed, but the falling apple hadn't.
The apple was gold and green and had landed with a loud, wet noise on the spider, crushing it completely. Bits of innards were splattered on the ground around it. It was slimy and gross and he wanted to get sick. "Ugh!" he said, as he got shakily to his feet, but it seemed like an understatement. "Ugh! Yuck!" He shuddered. The smell of the crushed spider hit his nose and throwing up became a very real option. He took a few steps away, covering his nose and mouth with his hand. He blinked a few times to clear his vision and his head, and concentrated on trying to keep his gorge down.
He was aware of two things in very quick succession: one was that a large shadow seemed to cover his head, and the other was that something very hard hit his head.
Then there was nothing.
x
Captain King brought the plane around again. He was worried: there seemed to be something happening on the island; it looked like an earthquake but the meteor was slowly starting to sink into the sea. The waves around it were growing and the sea had become choppy as it fought to claim the rock as its own. He didn't think he would be able to get the plane down close enough to it to get to Tintin. He picked up the radio and quickly called back to the Aurora.
"Seaplane to Aurora. Do you read me?"
"Loud and clear," came the voice of Captain Haddock.
"We're in trouble, Captain: the meteor is shaking like it's in an earthquake, and it's starting to sink into the water. The whole thing is tilted over on its side and it's going down fast."
"What? Did you say it's sinking? Where's Tintin? Is he still on the meteor?"
"I haven't seen him yet." He didn't finish the thought: that the plane was so loud that Tintin should have heard him and made his way to somewhere clear, where the trees weren't so thick.
Wait a minute…
"Er, there appears to be a forest on the island…"
"What?"
"There's a load of enormous trees, Captain. I'm just trying to get a better view… Ah! There's Tintin! He's, er, he's lying at the base of one of the giant trees, but he's not moving. It looks like he's been knocked out by something. Probably one of the giant apples."
"Forest? Giant apples? Speak sense, man!"
"I'm being serious, Captain! There's loads of giant apple trees down there!"
"Then land, and get him off that island before the damn thing sinks, giant apples and all!"
"I don't think I can: the waters absolutely raging."
"Try! You have to save Tintin, do y'hear me?"
"Roger, Captain. Over and out."
x
Snowy was in a quandary. Except, he didn't know what a quandary was, and his mouth was unable to form such a word, so he called it a wufflybarkington instead.
He was an old-fashioned dog at heart. Oh, he might have notions of independence and pride, but when it came down to it Tintin was God. Tintin was the light around which Snowy's world moved: he was the Bringer of Food and Water, and the Taker of Walks. He was the Tickler and the Player and the Thrower of the Ball. He was the one who could Make the Socks Speak. When Tintin slept, Snowy slept. When Tintin woke up, Snowy woke up. And when Tintin said Sit, Snowy Sat.
There was one rule – one hard and fast rule – that was unbreakable. Thou Shalt Not Bite The Hand That Feeds You. Not only was it completely unthinkable to bite Tintin, but it also made it harder for the Hand That Feeds You to feed you again tomorrow.
Tintin wouldn't wake up. Snowy had done everything in his power: he'd sat on Tintin; he'd licked Tintin; he'd barked in Tintin's ear, but all to no avail. Tintin was still asleep and the water was coming closer. Snowy had to get Tintin up. The thing that made the noise was in the sky again, and it was coming closer; the wet thing that was wet was creeping closer and bad things happened if you were face-down in that; and to top it all off the thing under his feets wouldn't stop moving and shaking (feets being an acceptable plural to feet in dog-world, seeing as they had four of them).
He knew how to wake Tintin, but it went against everything he believed in his little doggy heart. It was a quandary. Or at least, a wufflybarkington.
May Tintin have mercy on my soul, he thought, as he sank his teeth into the soft flesh of God's buttocks.
Tintin awoke with a shout of pain. "What the hell!" he cried. "Snowy, did you bite me?" Snowy jumped around barking, trying to explain the wufflybarkington, but there was no need: Tintin had already realised. "Good boy," he said ruefully, "but don't do that again! That bloody hurt!"
Tintin got to his feet and started to wave to the seaplane, hoping Captain King could see him from this far away. For some reason, the plane was very high up as it circled over the island. Why isn't he landing? What's going on?
He heard it before he felt it: the thunderous crash of lots of water breaking on his head. It roared around him and then he was under it, choking on the still-heated waves as he pitched forward, smacking painfully into the rocks ahead of him. He caught his breath and realised that the island was starting to sink. Although the water was retreating, it seemed to be gathering itself for another round. He scrambled to his feet and shouted to Snowy, and started heading for higher ground.
Snowy scampered on ahead, and together they made for the flag which still clung perilously to what was becoming the top of the island. Waves lapped around his feet, but he managed to stay ahead. Then, the island trembled and shook again, and with a loud grating noise it tilted crazily and he was climbing vertically instead of running. Ahead, Snowy lost his footing and tumbled down, yowling and yelping in fright. Tintin scrambled to get underneath the dog, so instead of hitting the rocks Snowy landed in his arms heavily. Tintin simply tucked the dog under his arm and kept climbing, until he was finally up at the flag and had to hold on to the rocks to keep his balance.
In the sky above him, the seaplane continued to circle, but Tintin could see that the water was too rough to land on. If Captain King brought the plane down, there was a good chance he would be dashed to pieces on the island and what now lay beneath the water, and they would both be stranded or worse. But with only one person in the cockpit there was no way that he could lower a rope either. This wasn't just a quandary. It wasn't even a wufflybarkington. It was a decidedly sticky situation.
To Tintin's surprise, the seaplane dived and started to glide above the choppy waves. He stared in shock as it disappeared below the raging sea. "The lunatic!" Tintin cried. "What's he playing at?" For a few seconds the seaplane was gone. The engine was cut off, but whether it was from crashing or safely landing, he didn't know. Time seemed to stretch out again until the sea shifted and the flash of yellow bobbed up into view. "He made it!" he cheered. "Unbelievable!"
A few seconds later, the plane was hidden by the waves again. Tintin waited with bated breath until the waves shifted once more and he could see the dinghy and Captain King, who was rowing desperately towards the island. When he was close enough to be heard, he shouted over; "I can't come any closer! I'll end up hitting the rocks. I'm going to throw you a life jacket and a rope, ok?"
"Got it!" Tintin cried. He carefully edged down until he was closer to the sea, and watched as Captain King tied a life jacket to a rope and took careful aim. It soared through the air and hit the island before splashing into the waves. Clinging to a rock, Tintin retrieved it, untied the jacket and quickly put it on. "Ok," he murmured. "Now for you, Snowy." He bent down to pick up the dog, but Snowy backed away. "Come on, boy." Snowy backed further away. Tintin went after him. "Stop it, Snowy! Sit!"
Snowy lay down and went limp. Tintin hated when Snowy did this: he was small but when he went limp and boneless it was a pain trying to pick him up. It was the dog form of peaceful resistance, and Ghandi himself would have been proud of Snowy. Tintin gritted his teeth and picked the dog up, hating how floppy he was. He held him under one arm and wondered if he could throw him to Captain King. But no, the water was too rough and Snowy wasn't helping matters: he'd hit a rock and anything could happen. He couldn't risk it. He had to think of something else.
"Hurry!" Captain King barked.
"Let me think!" Tintin cried. He looked around, and his eyes fell on the flag. "Got it!" he cried. He grabbed the flag and tied the material until it made a crude sling. He quickly put Snowy inside the sling and, taking a firm hold of the pole, held him out over the water to Captain King, who was able to lift the dog down and put him safely in the bottom of the dinghy.
"Now come on," Captain King shouted. "We don't have any time!"
"Just a minute!" Tintin climbed back to the top of the meteor and planted the flag into it. He was determined that it would fly over the meteorite until the very end. Once it was proudly fluttering in the wind, he returned to the water and grabbed a hold of the rope again. "Here I come," he warned. He took a deep breath and plunged into the waves.
The water pulled at him, jostling him, but he kept a tight hold of the rope and hauled himself in. His mouth was filled with salty water and he couldn't open his eyes. It felt like an eternity, but then there were hands pulling at his arms, and he was up against the rubber of the dinghy. He pulled himself up and grinned at Captain King. "Safe at last!"
"Now let's get the hell out of here!"
"Yep, we should just – Oh! God, I'm an idiot!" He dove back in to the water and started swim back to the island. Behind him, he could hear Captain King shouting at him to come back, but he kept going. He reached the meteor and pulled himself back onto the cold stone.
"What are you doing?" Captain King bawled. "You'll go down with it! Get off the meteor!"
Tintin untied the rope from his waist and quickly lashed it to a rock. He needed – needed – to bring back a part of the meteor, otherwise the whole thing – the sabotage, the near sinkings, the desperate chases – would be wasted. If they could bring back even a small part of it for Professor Phostle, it wouldn't be in vain. "Catch!" he shouted, throwing the other end of the rope back to Captain King. "Pull it in!" Underneath him, the island started to tremble again, and slowly it started to sink. Captain King was hauling on the line, his hands a blur as they pulled the rock sample in, but there wasn't enough time. The next wave almost knocked Tintin off his perch and when it drained away he was up to his waist in water. He took a deep breath and jumped. Behind him, the flag sank beneath the raging water.
In the dinghy, Captain King stopped pulling and looked around. "Tintin?" he called. "Tintin! Tintin! Where are you?" He started to heave the line in, and there Tintin was: hanging on to the meteor for dear life. "Oh thank God!" Captain King almost let go of the rope in his relief. "I thought you were a goner!"
Tintin grabbed the side of the dinghy and pulled himself in. He collapsed gratefully in the bottom. "I thought I was a goner too," he admitted. "Now let's get the hell out of here."
"That's the most sensible idea you've had all day."
x
Captain Haddock lit his pipe and took a deep pull of it. His nerves were on edge. There'd been no word from King for at least an hour and they'd no idea what was going on out there. They'd managed to do a couple of small repairs but they were still going too slow to catch up. If the island was sinking and there was no trace of Tintin or King or the seaplane, they'd probably never find out what had happened.
They probably wouldn't even find the bodies, and that would leave Captain Haddock up a certain creek without a specific paddle.
Behind him, Professor Phostle paced back and forth.
The radio crackled into life and he sat up with a jolt. "They're here!" the Captain cried delightedly. "They're alive!" He quickly balanced his pipe on the edge of the ashtray and pulled the mic towards himself. "You receiving me?" he asked. "What happened? Is everyone ok? You're both ok?"
"Receiving you loud and clear, Captain!" Tintin's voice said. "We're both ok and we're on our way back."
"Hooray!" The Captain slammed his fist down on to the table, catching the stem of his pipe. It flipped into the air and landed perfectly in Professor Phostle's mouth. "Hurry it up, lads, and we'll get the welcome party out for you!"
x
Two hours later, everyone was on the deck. They were all waiting, watching the skies and chatting happily. The Captain, on the prow with his binoculars, was the first one to spot the seaplane. "There it is!" he shouted, pointing up. "There they are!" The whole ship let out a great cheer and there came the sound of more corks popping. They'd finished the white wine and were on to the red by now, although a few of them had switched to harder spirits and the Captain was almost positive that Big Bill and his hated sous chef were passing a joint back and forth, and getting stoned off their faces.
The plane came down on the clear, calm water, and skated over until it was alongside the ship, the wing reaching almost to the deck. The cockpit slid back and Tintin clambered out. "I've brought you a present, Professor," he called happily. Captain King passed something out to him that was wrapped in a blanket. Tintin took it and started towards the ship.
The blanket moved. It was… it was growing, it seemed. Tintin's eyes widened and he put on a burst of speed. The blanket was forced apart, revealing a towering red and white capped mushroom that just kept getting bigger.
"Oh shi" – Tintin tossed the mushroom and the damned thing exploded, knocking everyone off their feet. They sat on the deck and stared at the lump of rock that had clattered to the floor. There was no sign of the mushroom.
"It does that sometimes," Tintin said apologetically.
Author's note: No, I didn't mess up the order of the words 'God' and 'Tintin'. Seriously: to dogs, their master is God.