Astrosaurs 2 (4 page)

On the flight deck of the DSS
Sauropod
, high above the planet, Arx Orano heard his captains cry.

“Quick!” the triceratops barked at his flight crew. “Switch on the scanners! Find that spaceship!”

The flight crew were dimorphodon, highly trained flying reptiles. They clucked and flapped about the dinosaur spaceship, pulling levers and flicking switches.

The scanner soon showed the oviraptor ship soaring away at top speed.

“Fire lasers!” Arx ordered.

Beams of light fired from the
Sauropod.
But the oviraptor ship quickly whisked away out of range. Not a single shot found its mark.

Arx sighed and nudged the communicator with his nose horn. “Captain? This is Arx. I'm afraid the oviraptors were too quick for us. They've got away!”

*

Captain Teggs felt awful as he walked back to the Hall of Learning. His head hung down in shame. Gipsy patted him on the side of his neck with a gentle hoof. “It's all right, Captain,” she said. “There's nothing to worry about!”

“Oh yeah?” Teggs waved his spiky tail towards the crowds that were starting to spill out from the hall. “Let's see if
they
agree with you!”

Professor Sog was leading his fellow dinosaurs outside. The perky little reptile was hopping about with excitement.

“Well done, Captain!” he chirped. “Your concern was very convincing. Those oviraptors are bound to think they've stolen the
real
eggs!”

Teggs stared at him, wide-eyed. “What do you mean?”

“Those eggs on the stage were fakes!” Sog chuckled. “They were just props! I brought them along to spice up my talk.”

Teggs whooped with relief. “Then where
are
the real eggs?”

“Here!” came a low, lazy voice from the crowd. Two large, long-necked creatures stomped into view. Teggs recognized them from the professor's hologram – they were plateosaurus. They each carried a large shiny box around their necks.

“I am Coo,” said one of the dinosaurs.

“And I am Dippa,” said the other, a female. “We are the guardians of the eggs.”

Coo bobbed his head at the box round Dippa's neck. “I watch her eggs.”

“And I watch his,” Dippa explained.

“So now the mission can begin!” Professor Sog was still merrily leaping about. “Oh, I'd love to see King Albu's face when he tries to eat those eggs!”
Way out in space, at the sticky centre of his royal ship, King Albu sat waiting on his golden throne. Thick drool bubbled out of his mouth and stained his royal robes at the thought of his next meal – fried plateosaurus eggs on toast!

King Albu waited.

And waited.

His tummy rumbled loud enough to make the walls shake. And
still
he waited.

At last, King Albu could bear it no more. He turned to the nearest slave and shouted: “Fetch me Prince Goopo – now!”

The slave rushed from the room. Less than a minute later, Prince Goopo came in. He looked very worried.

“Where are my eggs?” hissed King Albu.

Prince Goopo gulped. “I think . . . er . . . I think Cook was having a little trouble bringing out their full flavour . . .”

“Fetch me the cook at once!” screamed King Albu.

Prince Goopo crawled out of the room at top speed. In seconds, he had returned with the cook, who looked red-faced and nervous. “Where's my supper?” roared the king.

“Erm . . .” The cook crossed his legs like he needed the toilet. “They are . . . er . . . very tough to cook.”

“So?” growled King Albu. “Just serve 'em up they are!”

Forgive me, Your Egginess,” said the cook. “But I really don't think—”

“Look, Cook. I like ‘em soft. I like ‘em hard. I like sucking out the yolk with a straw. I like paddling in the egg whites then licking my feet clean.”

The slaves nodded solemnly. They had seen him do such things lots of times.

“I like ‘em raw. I like ‘em fried. I like ‘em thin. I like ‘em wide.” King Albu narrowed his eyes and widened his mouth. “In short,
I like my eggs
, Cook! And I want a piled-up plate of plateosaurus eggs right now!”

The cook sighed and went outside. He returned with a silver trolley piled high with a grassy salad – and several giant eggs.

“At last!” drooled the king. He grasped an egg in both hands. Then he opened his mouth as wide as it would go, and popped it inside.

Where it stuck!

The egg could not be crushed or chewed or slurped down or guzzled. It stuck right in his throat. King Albu's scaly neck looked like a snake that had swallowed a rugby ball!

“Urph!” he choked. “That's not an egg! It's a
rock
! A painted rock!” He ran around, clutching the large lump in his neck. “You idiot, Goopo! I send you out for eggs and you bring back
boulders
!”

With a strangled yell, King Albu choked up the enormous fake egg and kicked it across the room.

“My stomach wants plateosaurus eggs!” he panted. “And my stomach will not take no for an answer! Get your brothers together, Goopo. We're going to get our hands on those eggs – whatever it takes!”