'Why haven't they come down to our Earth and eaten us?' Charlie asked.
'They've tried to, Charlie, many times, but they've never made it. You see, all around our Earth there is a vast envelope of air and gas, and anything hitting that at high speed gets red hot. Space capsules are made of special heat-proof metal, and when they make a re-entry, their speeds are reduced right down to about two thousand miles an hour, first by retro-rockets and then by something called "friction". But even so, they get badly scorched. Knids, which are not heat-proof at all, and don't have any retro-rockets, get sizzled up completely before they're halfway through. Have you ever seen a shooting star?'
'Lots of them,' Charlie said.
'Actually, they're not shooting stars at all,' said Mr Wonka. 'They're Shooting Knids. They're Knids trying to enter the Earth's atmosphere at high speed and going up in flames.'
'What rubbish,' said Grandma Georgina.
'You wait,' said Mr Wonka. 'You may see it happening before the day is done.'
'But if they're so fierce and dangerous,' Charlie said, 'why didn't they eat us up right away in the Space Hotel? Why did they waste time twisting their bodies into letters and writing SCRAM?'
'Because they're show-offs,' Mr Wonka replied. 'They're tremendously proud of being able to write like that.'
'But why say scram when they wanted to catch us and eat us?'
'It's the only word they know,' Mr Wonka said.
'Look!' screamed Grandma Josephine, pointing through the glass. 'Over there!'
Before he even looked, Charlie knew exactly what he was going to see. So did the others. They could tell by the high hysterical note in the old lady's voice.
And there it was, cruising effortlessly alongside them, a simply colossal Vermicious Knid, as thick as a whale, as long as a lorry, with the most brutal vermicious look in its eye! It was no more than a dozen yards away, egg-shaped, slimy, greenish-brown, with one malevolent red eye (the only one visible) fixed intently upon the people floating inside the Great Glass Elevator!
'The end has come!' screamed Grandma Georgina. 'He'll eat us all!' cried Mrs Bucket. 'In one gulp!' said Mr Bucket.
'We're done for, Charlie,' said Grandpa Joe. Charlie nodded. He couldn't speak or make a sound. His throat was seized up with fright.
But this time Mr Wonka didn't panic. He remained perfectly calm. 'We'll soon get rid of that!' he said and he pressed six buttons all at once and six booster-rockets went off simultaneously under the Elevator. The Elevator leaped forward like a stung horse, faster and faster, but the great green greasy Knid kept pace alongside it with no trouble at all.
'Make it go away!' yelled Grandma Georgina. 'I can't stand it looking at me!'
'Dear lady,' said Mr Wonka, 'it can't possibly get in here. I don't mind admitting I was a trifle alarmed back there in the Space Hotel. And with good reason. But here we have nothing to fear. The Great Glass Elevator is shockproof, waterproof, bombproof, bulletproof and Knidproof! So just relax and enjoy it.'
'Oh you Knid, you are vile and vermicious!'
cried Mr Wonka.
'You are slimy and soggy and squishous!
But what do we care
'Cause you can't get in here,
So hop it and don't get ambitious!'
At this point, the massive Knid outside turned and started cruising away from the Elevator. 'There you are,' cried Mr Wonka, triumphant. 'It heard me! It's going home!' But Mr Wonka was wrong. When the creature was about a hundred yards off, it stopped, hovered for a moment, then went smoothly into reverse, coming back toward the Elevator with its rear-end (which was the pointed end of the egg) now in front. Even going backwards, its acceleration was unbelievable. It was like some monstrous bullet coming at them and it came so fast nobody had time even to cry out.
CRASH! It struck the Glass Elevator with the most enormous bang and the whole thing shivered and shook but the glass held and the Knid bounced off like a rubber ball.
'What did I tell you!' shouted Mr Wonka, triumphant. 'We're safe as sausages in here!' 'He'll have a nasty headache after that,' said Grandpa Joe.
'It's not his head, it's his bottom!' said Charlie. 'Look, there's a big bump coming up on the pointed end where he hit! It's going black and blue!'
And so it was. A purple bruisy bump the size of a small car was appearing on the pointed rear-end of the giant Knid. 'Hello, you dirty great beast!' cried Mr Wonka.
'Hello, you great Knid! Tell us, how do you do?
You're a rather strange colour today.
Your bottom is purple and lavender blue.
Should it really be looking that way?
Are you not feeling well? Are you going to faint?
Is it something we cannot discuss?
It must be a very unpleasant complaint,
For your backside's as big as a bus!
Let me get you a doctor. I know just the man
For a Knid with a nasty disease.
He's a butcher by trade which is not a bad plan,
And he charges quite reasonable fees.
Ah, here he is now! "Doc, you really are kind
To travel so far into space.
There's your patient, the Knid with the purple behind!
Do you think it's a desperate case?"
"Great heavens above! It's no wonder he's pale!"
Said the doc with a horrible grin.
"There's a sort of balloon on the end of his tail!
I must prick it at once with a pin!"
So he got out a thing like an Indian spear,
With feathers all over the top,
And he lunged and he caught the Knid smack in the rear,
But alas, the balloon didn't pop!
Cried the Knid, "What on earth am I going to do
With this painful preposterous lump?
I can't remain standing the whole summer through!
And I cannot sit down on my rump!"
"It's a bad case of rear-ache," the medico said,
"And it's something I cannot repair.
If you want to sit down, you must sit on your head,
With your bottom high up in the air!"'
9
Gobbled Up
On the day when all this was happening, no factories opened anywhere in the world. All offices and schools were closed. Nobody moved away from the television screens, not even for a couple of minutes to get a Coke or to feed the baby. The tension was unbearable. Everybody heard the American President's invitation to the men from Mars to visit him in the White House. And they heard the weird rhyming reply, which sounded rather threatening. They also heard a piercing scream (Grandma Josephine), and a little later on, they heard someone shouting, 'Scram! Scram! Scram!' (Mr Wonka). Nobody could make head or tail of the shouting. They took it to be some kind of Martian language. But when the eight mysterious astronauts suddenly rushed back into their glass capsule and broke away from the Space Hotel, you could almost hear the great sigh of relief that rose up from the peoples of the earth. Telegrams and messages poured into the White House congratulating the President upon his brilliant handling of a frightening situation.
The President himself remained calm and thoughtful. He sat at his desk rolling a small piece of wet chewing-gum between his finger and thumb. He was waiting for the moment when he could flick it at Miss Tibbs without her seeing him. He flicked it and missed Miss Tibbs but hit the Chief of the Air Force on the tip of his nose.
'Do you think the men from Mars have accepted my invitation to the White House?' the President asked.
'Of course they have,' said the Foreign Secretary. 'It was a brilliant speech, sir.'
'They're probably on their way down here right now,' said Miss Tibbs. 'Go and wash that nasty sticky chewing-gum off your fingers quickly. They could be here any minute.'
'Let's have a song first,' said the President. 'Sing another one about me, Nanny … please.'
THE NURSE'S SONG
This mighty man of whom I sing,
The greatest of them all,
Was once a teeny little thing,
Just eighteen inches tall.
I knew him as a tiny tot.
I nursed him on my knee.
I used to sit him on the pot
And wait for him to wee.
I always washed between his toes,
And cut his little nails.
I brushed his hair and wiped his nose
And weighed him on the scales.
Through happy childhood days he strayed,
As all nice children should.
I smacked him when he disobeyed,
And stopped when he was good.
It soon began to dawn on me
He wasn't very bright,
Because when he was twenty-three
He couldn't read or write.
'What shall we do?' his parents sobbed.
'The boy has got the vapours!
He couldn't even get a job
Delivering the papers!'
'Ah-ha,' I said. 'This little clot
Could be a politician.'
'Nanny,' he cried. 'Oh Nanny, what
A super proposition!'
'Okay,' I said. 'Let's learn and note
The art of politics.
Let's teach you how to miss the boat
And how to drop some bricks,
And how to win the people's vote
And lots of other tricks.
Let's learn to make a speech a day
Upon the TV screen,
In which you never never say
Exactly what you mean.
And most important, by the way,
Is not to let your teeth decay,
And keep your fingers clean.'
And now that I am eighty-nine,
It's too late to repent.
The fault was mine the little swine
Became the President.
'Bravo, Nanny!' cried the President, clapping his hands. 'Hooray!' shouted the others. 'Well done, Miss Vice-President, ma'am! Brilliant! Tremendous!'
'My goodness!' said the President. 'Those men from Mars will be here any moment! What on earth are we going to give them for lunch? Where's my Chief Cook?'
The Chief Cook was a Frenchman. He was also a French spy and at this moment he was listening at the keyhole of the President's study. 'Ici, Monsieur le President!' he said, bursting in.
'Chief Cook,' said the President. 'What do men from Mars eat for lunch?'
'Mars Bars,' said the Chief Cook.
'Baked or boiled?' asked the President.
'Oh, baked, of course, Monsieur le President. You will ruin a Mars Bar by boiling!'
The voice of astronaut Shuckworth cut in over the loudspeaker in the President's study.
'Request permission to link up and go aboard Space Hotel?' he said.
'Permission granted,' said the President. 'Go right ahead, Shuckworth. It's all clear now … Thanks to me.'
And so the large Transport Capsule, piloted by Shuckworth, Shanks and Showler, with all the hotel managers and assistant managers and hall porters and pastry chefs and bell-boys and waitresses and chambermaids on board, moved in smoothly and linked up with the giant Space Hotel.
'Hey there! We've lost our television picture,' called the President.
'I'm afraid the camera got smashed against the side of the Space Hotel, Mr President,' Shuckworth replied. The President said a very rude word into the microphone and ten million children across the nation began repeating it gleefully and got smacked by their parents.
'All astronauts and one hundred and fifty hotel staff safely aboard Space Hotel!' Shuckworth reported over the radio. 'We are now standing in the lobby!'
'And what do you think of it all?' asked the President. He knew the whole world was listening in and he wanted Shuckworth to say how wonderful it was. Shuckworth didn't let him down.
'Gee, Mr President, it's just great!' he said. 'It's unbelievable! It's so enormous! And so … it's kind of hard to find words to describe it, it's so truly grand, especially the chandeliers and the carpets and all! I have the Chief Hotel Manager, Mr Walter W. Wall, beside me now. He would like the honour of a word with you, sir.'
'Put him on,' said the President.
'Mr President, sir, this is Walter Wall. What a sumptuous hotel this is! The decorations are superb!'
'Have you noticed that all the carpets are wall-to-wall, Mr Walter Wall?' said the President.
'I have indeed, Mr President.'
'All the wallpaper is all wall-to-wall, too, Mr Walter Wall.'
'Yes, sir, Mr President! Isn't that something! It's going to be a real pleasure running a beautiful hotel like this! … Hey! What's going on over there? Something's coming out of the lifts! Help!' Suddenly the loudspeaker in the President's study gave out a series of the most ghastly screams and yells. 'Ayeeeee! Owwwww! Ayeeeee! Hel-l-l-lp! Hel-l-l-l-l-lp! Hel-l-l-l-l-l-l-l-l-lp!'
'What on earth's going on?' said the President. 'Shuckworth! Are you there, Shuckworth? … Shanks! Showler! Mr Walter Wall! Where are you all! What's happening?'
The screams continued. They were so loud the President had to put his fingers in his ears. Every house in the world that had a television or radio receiver heard those awful screams. There were other noises, too. Loud grunts and snortings and crunching sounds. Then there was silence.
Frantically the President called the Space Hotel on the radio. Houston called the Space Hotel. The President called Houston. Houston called the President. Then both of them called the Space Hotel again. But answer came there none. Up there in space all was silent.
'Something nasty's happened,' said the President.
'It's those men from Mars,' said the Ex-Chief of the Army. 'I told you to let me blow them up.'
'Silence!' snapped the President. 'I've got to think.'
The loudspeaker began to crackle. 'Hello!' it said. 'Hello hello hello! Are you receiving me, Space Control in Houston?'