The School Trip Trap.

An Alternate Universe Tale.

The sun shone brightly as Class 10B lined up outside their classroom for last lesson. It was hot and stuffy in the corridor, but nobody minded – after all, The Holy College trained you for Hell, and if you were prepared for those temperatures then today was nothing special.

Still, no reason to keep your shirt on.

Mr. Ville strode up to the door and looked at his unruly mob. “Afternoon class,” he muttered unenthusiastically.

After seats had been taken, he walked to the blackboard and drew a chalky circle. He put a line through it sideways and asked, “what is this?”

“A planet?” Rave offered.

Mr. Ville looked slightly surprised at this burst of co-operation. “Well done. This is the Black Planet. So called because it is black. This planet has been a wasteland for hundreds of years, and we’re visiting it on our termly school trip. We will be exploring the ruins and learning about the dead race that once dominated its surface. You’ve all got consent forms to be signed by parents or guardians, they need to be handed back to me on the day of the trip, so please don’t feed them to your Hell-Hound as a dietary supplement. You will need to bring a packed lunch...”

“Or nick someone else’s,” whispered Anar.

The dinosaurs snickered.

“Dress will be a school logo t-shirt, and jeans. No shorts!” He took a breath and turned back to the board, setting work for the class to do if they were in the mood for it. Which they never were. He droned on about dead civilisations, anyway.

But no-one was listening. The bell rang at 3 o’clock, its shrilling drowned out by teenage yelling.

Mr. Ville wiped his horned face with his hands. “What am I letting myself in for?” He’d been on school trips before!

One week later at 9am, the class of 10B were getting ready to board the school coach. All except six students.

“We’re missing Crowley, Hastur, Ligur, Anarabus, Rap, and Rave. Any ideas before we leave without them?” There was a tinge of hopefulness to Mr. Ville’s voice.

One clawed hand rose up. “Sir, they’re having a fight over who gets the back seats.”

The teacher groaned.

Sure enough, two minutes later, the aardvark student and his two velociraptor friends turned up, handed in their crumpled and battered consent forms, and barged their way onto the Holy College’s battered black bus to take up their newly won seats.

Crowley, Hastur, and Ligur slinked in, slightly bruised, after.

Mr. Ville picked up his trusty megaphone and warned the students it would be a long drive to the Jump, with a stop for the toilet in an hour’s time.

At the back of the bus, the boys spread out with their feet up on the seats, cracking open pop and snacks, while daring their teacher to say something after they’d brazenly turned up in Nike vests and shorts. It was a safe bet that Mr. Ville would sooner convert to the other side of the College than tell them off.

Welcome Break motorway services were busy places as a rule, with plenty of space to accommodate crowds of travellers stopping off on their journeys. One thing they weren’t prepared for was a coach load of Demonic Studies students who enjoyed a bit of vandalism. They’d only been there ten minutes and already the building was looking worse for wear.

Upon leaving the bus, Mr. Ville had instructed them to leave behind anything they didn’t need on their seats, to make sure everyone got back to their designated place.

Crowley, Hastur, and Ligur decided to steal back the much sought-after Back Seats and crept back to the College Coach early.

Anar, Rap, and Rave left the men’s toilets after lobbing loo roll everywhere and loosening a few doors.

Rap looked thoughtful, “hey Anar, do you think those losers are gonna try to rob our seats?”

The aardvark laughed, evilly, “Oh, I know they will.”

And so, on entering the vehicle, they saw their rivals standing at the back, arms folded, looking smug.

“Think you’re so tough, huh freaks? These are our seats now.”

“I wouldn’t sit there if I were you,” Anar warned.

“Yeah? Watch us…” without looking, they flicked the bags off the seats and triumphantly sat down.

Mr. Ville was still in the queue for W.H.Smith’s, trying to buy a newspaper and tube of Smarties, when he heard the screams.

What were those ruddy kids up to now??

He ran out as fast as the leisurely crowd would allow and began summoning an ambulance, cursing the day he’d foolishly chosen teaching as a career.

“What in Hell happened here?!” he demanded.

Rave shrilled, “I think they sat on something,” and then had to be slapped on the back for choking.

Meanwhile, Crowley was howling in pain, and his two lackeys were uttering foul oaths as everyone else craned their necks to take in the bizarre sight. Each one had a mantrap clamped to their backside.

“Well, sir” defended Anar, scratching his snout casually, “you did tell us to go back to our designated seats. Some students just don’t listen to instructions.”

It wasn’t long before everything was back to normal, or as normal as things got anyway, and the coach was quiet as they approached the Jump. All the students were reading magazines, which might seem unusual for their level of intelligence, until you saw some of the covers:

Rap and Rave were looking at the pictures in GQ, and sniffing the scented pages for various aftershaves that they might be tempted to rob from a store sometime.

Anar was flitting through Official Playstation Magazine, revelling in the announcement of Tomb Raider III; filled with more levels, puzzles, challenges and bonuses than ever before. Not to mention how significantly enlarged Lara’s tits had become. He knew what was going on his Christmas list this year!

Idle daydreams of bouncy boobs were rudely disturbed by Mr.Ville’s cursed megaphone as he announced the coach’s arrival at the designated Dimension Jump.

Seatbelts were clicked in, and sick bags were handed out.

Travelling through a Trans-Dimensional-Warpway was an odd experience, involving a sense of internal compression, weightlessness, dizziness and unreasonable G-forces.

It was, the boys would tell you, like riding the Pepsi Max Challenge at Blackpool.

There was a big bump as the wheels crossed over the Gate boundary, and then mad flashing lights surrounded the Coach as it entered a kind of non-space between points in space and time.

The sound of retching filled their ears.

They floated up off their seats, trying to eat the stray sweets that were drifting around next to them.

In a moment it was all over, and another bump of the wheels announced the return of gravitational forces, and their bottoms on the seat-pads. They landed with a happy ‘thump!’

“Wheyyyyy!”

Mr. Ville walked up the aisle, collecting the sick bags and not enjoying it, surprisingly enough. He reached the back seats and spied the sprawling Troublesome Trio. “I told you to wear your seatbelts,” he grumbled with flared nostrils. He rustled the black bag filled with its awful contents. “Come on, let’s have yours.”

Rap pulled a face, “what do you take us for? Get that away from us. Ew!”

The teacher turned and walked back down the bus, incinerating the hurl sack with a flare of Hellfire.

“…I said, we’ve reached the Black Planet’s visitor’s centre, if you could collect your things and leave in an orderly fashion. File in class register order by the entrance. That’s register order!” Mr. Ville pleaded through his megaphone.

Again, no-one was paying any attention, and they all piled out of the coach in a mad mass.

He caught Anar and the two dinosaurs as they leapt down the step, “I’m keeping a close eye on you three. You’re staying with me.”

“Nice try, sir!” they took off at top speed.

He spluttered, considering what would be a totally justified use of lethal magic against his least favourite pupils, until the rest of the class gained his attention back by trying to climb an ancient monument, garnering the wrath of a security guard in the process.

The visitor toilets were a safe hiding spot. After all, none of the students had anything left in their systems after the dimensional Jump.

Anar leaned back against the tiled wall, nonchalantly, reaching into his record bag.

It was an amazing feat of manufacturing. This bag was like any other in look and design, but unlike any other, it was capable of containing an unlimited number of things. Anarabus had a whole wardrobe of clothes in there, and more designer trainers than he could ever possibly need. Food could be found at any time of day or night. He had his SNES,  Playstation, spare controllers, Walkman, headphones, television set and VCR, a camera, a tent, skateboard, mountain bike, and every little bit of junk he’d ever picked up from the car-boot sales he was dragged to.

But that wasn’t all. It could also give you things that you hadn’t put in there. All he had to do was think of what he wanted, and it would be summoned into existence. Pretty neat!

He had been given the bag as a birthday present by his mad uncle. Every so often, it would change appearance to follow the latest trend. Right now, it was a Dr. Martens record bag.

He offered his friends a Marlboro and they had a crafty smoke, waiting for the coast to be clear so they could do some proper exploring.

The Black Planet may be a bleak and boring dead world, but beyond the Visitor Centre a city’s remains broke the dull scene. Not too far off, they could see a stone circle and their classmates were mulling around it, drawing on the ancient rock with highlighter.

Rap and Rave pointed to an old graveyard excitedly, wanting their picture taken by the crumbling sculptures as they looked ‘kinda spooky’.

Anar reached into his bag to take out his camera…

The Holy College students that were being taken around by the official Guide were being watched closely by two hooded figures, lurking close to the stone circle, hidden by a low wall.

“There should be an aardvark in that lot,” one snarled. “I can’t see anything that isn’t some flavour of human.”

“Mmmm. Humans are tasty, you’re right there.”

There was a sigh. “You know what I meant.”

“It’s lunchtime?”

There was a soft thud and an ‘Oof!’.

“Not lunchtime! This has all been going so well, we’ve got our people playing the parts of security and staff, the awful children are within the boundary of the stones, we just need that aardvark…”

Out in the cemetery, Anar was looking rather puzzled. He had picked out a handgun instead of his camera, but no matter how he tried he could not get it to vanish back into the mysterious space within, to exchange it for the item he wanted. “Stupid thing!” he cussed, “I want my camera! I thought of my camera! What do I need a flipping gun for? Guys, my bag’s playing up, sorry. No photos.”

“Maybe its batteries have run out?”

“Rap, you know it doesn’t need those.”

“Doesn’t it? I mean, there was that one episode of Dungeons and Dragons where the adventurers had to take their magical weapons to a castle to get them recharged. Could be like that. Could be…”

“I hope its not broke. Where would I even go to get it fixed?” he paused, “Errrr, guys, guys are you seeing this, or have I inhaled too much space dust?”

A small, scaly creature that looked like a tiny, wingless dragon with big back feet like a rabbit’s, was sat by his Reebok trainers, wagging its whippish tail into the dry soil.

“Yeah, I see it. Ugly lil blighter. Seems happy to see you.”

Rave frowned, “that’s suspicious in itself.”

Anar knealt down, patting its bony, ridged head, “I thought this place was deserted.”

“By people, yeah, I guess even on a dead planet you’re going to get wildlife. Like sparrows. You get sparrows everywhere.”

“Intergalactic sparrows.” Rave nodded. “Space pigeons.”

“Funny looking pigeon,” Anar frowned at the reptilian oddity.

“You’re a funny looking aardvark.”

Anar wasn’t arguing with that one.

Their new pal jumped up and down, skittered a few feet, turned back and chirped at them.

“Looks like it wants us to follow it,” Anar mused.

Rave turned to Rap, “what is this? A Lassie movie?”

The students were still milling about in the ancient stone circle, reluctantly gathering up soil samples for back in the laboratory where they would test P.H. and composition, instead of setting their hair alight with the bunson burners, and rubbing wax crayons on paper to get reliefs of the rock carvings to use in art class, instead of making ClipArt collages like they usually did. A high-pitched peeping caught their attention as a curious bounding lizard dashed through their midst and everything suddenly went very dark.

The two hiding, cloaked figures were alerted too, and they sprang into action, collecting the group with a flourish of magic. Their handy spy, Fellon, had given them the signal that their target was in position. The mission had been a success.

The boys arrived on the scene just in time to see all their classmates disappear into thin air, as the funny alien that had beckoned them to follow, skidded to a halt at the other side of the stone circle. It stopped, turned, and hopped back to them.

“Where did they go?”

“Was that meant to happen?”

“This is the weirdest school trip yet, and that’s saying something.”

In the centre of the circle, where there had been flat ground, was a gaping hole, sloping down into darkness.

Anar’s grey skin sprang up in goosebumps. “Magic,” he murmured. “Great.”

The Min Master was not happy. “Where is the aardvark that I specifically asked for?” he demanded, foaming at the mouth. “Can’t you two do anything right?”

The hooded elves who had been hiding out by the circle cowered, spluttering, “but my Lord, the whole class were there, we had the signal from Fellon. It must be his fault! He must have made a mistake!”

“You’d lay the blame with a wretched creature such as he? You’re the intelligent lifeforms here!” he raised a hand and sent a mighty thunderbolt down upon his snivelling underlings.

They whined and hastily put out the fires at their cloaks. Steam rose from their hair.

The rodent twitched his whiskers and slumped down upon his gem encrusted throne, resting his chin on his thin hands. His useless lackeys had brought back all of the visitors from Earth bar the one he really wanted. All he could do now was wait for him to come looking for his friends. That was what heroes did, after all. And he would be waiting.

The way down under the surface of the world was dank, and dim, and dripping. There was a gentle, green glow from the moss that grew upon the rock, just bright enough to lead the way as the three teenagers followed their curious leader.

“I don’t know why we’re bothering,” Rave sulked, “I don’t even like any of them anyway.”

“Yeah, but one: you don’t like anyone, and two: what will we say when it’s home time and the coach driver asks where everyone is? I don’t fancy going to prison for murder.”

“I wonder where we’re going?” Rap asked.

“Down.”

“Alright smartass.”

“Yuck! My hair’s getting ruined.” Anar complained, as unspeakable goo dripped down from unseen stalagthingies. “Going to take me ages to get this out. I wish my bag was working again, could at least put a hat on…”

The two tall dinosaurs looked at him, “you think just because we’re hairless, we enjoy this?”

“Please stop arguing, you’ll alert the guards,” a small voice piped up.

“Whoa! The weird critter can talk.”

“If that’s a taste of your brainpower, we’re doomed.”

“Oooh, it’s sarcastic too. Nice! You got a name there, fella?”

“Shhh!” it hissed, crossly.

Anar flexed his weapon, “guards don’t scare me. I got a licence to kill.”

“Have you? I thought that was a Blockbuster card in your wallet?”

“It’s a James Bond reference, Rap. 007? Shaken not stirred?”

“Why’s he want his milkshake shook up?”

The aardvark shrugged, “I don’t bleeding know. He’s a spy in a suit, he does what he wants.”

If the alien had been in any hope that his bravery in betraying his master was well placed, he was most likely regretting it now. “My name is Fellon, I am a Min, and these mines are full of our people, enslaved by the Min Master, digging rocks out of the walls to garner their meagre magical power. I was meant to be on the lookout for you, to be in the stone circle and send the signal to my master’s henchmen. They have been summoned to the throne chamber. If you’re going to rescue them, you’ve got to make it through a maze of tunnels. The master has guards at every crossroads.”

As if on cue, a faint tap-tap-tapping echoed down through a doorway that was devoid of door and barely standing up against an invasion of rot and rust.

Beyond, there were row upon row of small scaly wingless dragons with big hind feet, dutifully picking at the silty sandstone with their claws. Chain strung through their shackles. Baskets lay around with glittering rock inside, a faint blue aura emanating. Magic.

Anarabus poked his round, grey snout around the splintered wood of the doorway, his pale grey eyes following. He could see guards with swords at their belts hanging around, occasionally kicking one of the imprisoned creatures maliciously.

“I’ll help you get to your human friends, if you can help us,” Fellon said quietly.

“I feel like Indiana Jones all of a sudden,” Anar said.

“Yeah? You don’t look like him,” Rave frowned.

“I thought he was James Bond?” Rap contributed, confused. “Anyway, there’s no Nazis.”

Rave rolled his eyes, “that’s Raiders of the lost Ark!  This is Temple of Doom.”

“Is that the one with the big ball?”

“You keep my balls out of this,” Anar tutted.

“I’ll get the attention of the guards and provide a distraction…” Fellon bravely bounced into view, keening loudly, knocking over gem baskets and causing a clamour among his fellow scaly folk who joined in with a high-pitched cacophony.

Anar aimed his handgun to break the metal chains with a shot that echoed down the tunnels. Mins bounded about, free and fleeing, nipping and biting at the guards who were staggering around swatting at the miniature menaces. Wherever that Min Master was, he’d probably be half deaf by now and wondering what in the nine Hells was going on.

The boys saw the open tunnel network ahead, and made a dash out of the scene of bedlam, into the labyrinthian mine.

They followed mine cart ruts and footprints, turning left and right, right and left.

It wasn’t long until Rave got grumpy. “This is stupid! I told you we should have just left them! I vote we turn back and take our chances with the courts. They can’t prove nuffin’. We’ll be lost in here forever. I’m retracing our steps. I want McDonalds.” He crossed his strong arms, huffing.

“We have to do this!” Anar insisted.

“You have to do this, you mean! You’re the hero of the stories. That’s why you get all the cool stuff.”

Rap tried to placate him, “it can’t be long now, dear. Think of Mr. Ville’s happy face when we find everyone.”

There was a sceptical silence.

“I’m going!” Rave turned tail and stomped off.

“Well fine! Go, then, Mr. I Hate Everyone. You’re not even funny! You’re just a filler character! And a bad boyfriend!”

The big velociraptor’s tramping faded away.

“He’ll be back,” Anar reassured Rap, patting his shoulder.

“Yeah, he does have that Bad Penny quality. I didn’t mean that bit about him being a bad boyfriend…”

There was a faint wail that came from far down the tunnel.

“That was quick,” Anar murmured under his breath.

“Rave’s in trouble!” Rap set off with his long legs. “come on, Anar! You can run faster than that, you’ve got Reebok’s on!”

“This is ridiculous, I can’t keep up with you. Gimme a second...” he waved a grey hand, blue light filling the tunnel.

“I found this peculiar beast in the tunnel, master,” the elven guard said, gripping a squirming Rave by his neck as he was bound tight in thick rope.

“Peculiar beast? I’m a dinosaur! It means ‘thunder lizard’, I’ll have you know!”

The Min Master sat bolt upright upon his fancy seat. “Indeed? Was it in aardvark company, perhaps?”

The guard poked Rave in the rib.

“What, you want Big Ears? Errr, I mean, I dunno what you’re on about.”

The rat smiled without humour. “A pity. I’ll feed you to my pet then. I could do with some entertainment.”

That really didn’t sound good. Rave knew what kind of pets mentally unstable despots went for, and gerbils didn’t feature.

There was a yelp, and two handlers were dragged out by a massive black cat. It had a beautiful sleek coat shining with a million stars. It meowed in that way that big cats did, reminding of why they’ve been at the top of the food chain for so long. It proceeded to flop down in front of the throne and roll about, acting cute and fooling no-one.

The handlers unclipped their leashes and made a run for it, back to the safety of the tunnels.

The Min Master addressed the class who were retained in the chamber too. “If that aardvark fails to try anything heroic in the next ten minutes, you’re going to be kitty food, one by one.”

Rap could see light at the end of the tunnel, and called behind him, “come on, pull your socks up!”

“Don’t wear socks,” Destroyer the Nightmare mumbled, cantering along the uneven underground the best he could, dinner-plate sized hooves digging divots out of the dust.

Anar clung to the magical horse’s mane, ducking down as the ceiling grew worryingly close to his head.

A Min guard burst from one of the tunnels into the chamber, “Master! The Mins! They’re revolting!”

“What?” he cried, rising from his throne. “They’re adorable!”

“That is such a bad joke,” Rave groaned, shaking his head.

“The tunnels are overrun with them, Master, what shall we do?”

Thundering hooves disrupted the Master’s reply, as Destroyer broke into the throne cave, coming to a rearing stop with a terrifying roar, his wings flapping, sending a gust of sand swirling.

Anar dismounted with a leap, landing with a ‘Thud!’. He swept his sticky hair back and eyed the Min Master coolly. This was the idiot who had caused so much trouble.

“We have a visitor…”

“Er, Anar, I think I’m about to have a fatal injury!”

The panther eyed Rave hungrily.

“You wanted me, right? Well, here I am.” He stretched his grey arms out. “So, how’s about you let the others go?”

The Min Master nodded. “I will allow it. Guards! Escort our prisoners back to the surface, I have what I need.”

Rap ran to his boyfriend and hugged him tight.

“Just you and me, kid,” the Min Master said.

Anar gave the rodent a look, “I’ll beat your sorry ass, you know that right?”

With a blur, Mr. Ville was suddenly in the rat’s clawed grip, a talon pressing against his scrawny neck. It really wasn’t his day. “We don’t want to do anything silly now, do we?”

There was a pause. “Ok, what exactly did you want me so badly for?”

Beady black eyes darted down to the aardvark’s side, “your wonderful magic bag, of course.”

He was incredulous. “What? This? Why?”

The rat frothed, “I’m an unstable psychopath! Why wouldn’t I want it? Hand it over!”

Mr. Ville was gurgling now, the Min Master’s talon breaking his wrinkled, demonic skin.

If his teacher perished, he’d be in so much trouble…

“Fine,” he shrugged, handing it over, “here you go. One magical bag. All yours. Now, my teacher…?”

The rat’s face lit up as he clutched at the Dr. Martens record bag triumphantly, “yes!” he dismissed the teacher with a flick of the wrist. “Now, how do…?”

“Oh, that’s easy,” said Anar a little too helpfully, “you just imagine what you want, and put your hand in. Give it a go.”

He did, his furry hand dipping down and pulling out a curious, pine-cone-shaped object.

He frowned.

As he looked up, the aardvark had dived for cover behind the throne, and there was an almighty explosion.

Anarabus plugged his ears. The whole chamber shook, and a drift of dust sprinkled down from above. He peeked round the golden seat, to see all the icky bits of the rat Master blasted out in a wet, red radius.

Stupid sod. The bag only worked for him. Oh well, hopefully this would be a pass with distinction for his effort, after saving the whole class from certain death.

A loud purr approached.

“Oh hey, Guen, what were you doing here? You’re meant to be in another story. Don’t act cute with me, go one, get!”

The panther disappeared in a sparkle of stars.

Fellon led Anar and Destroyer back through the maze of tunnels, returning to the surface where everyone was waiting for them at the Coach. The little alien was grateful and thanked them profusely. The Mins were free, the oppressive elves had fled the scene once their Master had gone splat.

Everyone else was grumbling.

“What took you so long? We’re gonna miss X-Files at this rate!” Rave moaned.

“I had a big scene to do in the throne room,” Anar snapped, “unlike you who was going to get eaten.”

“Come on, back on your seats,” Mr. Ville jabbed a long-nailed thumb at the coach doors.

“I get full marks for this, yeah?” Anar asked as he passed.

“You’ll get full marks when you do your work, instead of skiving off, Sonny Jim,” the tutor replied, obviously completely oblivious to the whole adventure he’d just been a part of.

“Ah, bollocks.”

“Was all that really over your magic bag?” Rap asked, collecting up stray Smarties off the back seat. “I thought it was broken.”

Anar shrugged, “I guess it knew what I wanted, even when I didn’t.”

“Artificial intelligence?”

Rave gave him a dark look, “well, he doesn’t have any natural intelligence.”

“I’m going to thump you one!”

The megaphone squealed with feedback loop, “Jump time, grab your sick bags everyone. We’re heading home.”

The wheels bumped, and the lights flashed. The coach drifted between two points of time and space.

Anar drifted up off his seat, staring out of the dirty glass. Somewhere out there, another version of him was having very different adventures…