They had been streaking around the Earth like this for about forty-five minutes when Charlie, who was floating comfortably beside Grandpa Joe near the ceiling, said suddenly, ‘There’s something ahead! Can you see it, Grandpa? Straight in front of us!’
‘I can, Charlie, I can . . . Good heavens, it’s the Space Hotel!’
‘It can’t be, Grandpa. We left it miles behind us long ago.’
‘Ah-ha,’ said Mr Wonka. ‘We’ve been going so fast we’ve gone all the way around the Earth and caught up with it again! A splendid effort!’
‘And there’s the Transport Capsule! Can you see it, Grandpa? It’s just behind the Space Hotel!’
‘There’s something else there, too, Charlie, if I’m not mistaken!’
‘I know what those are!’ screamed Grandma Josephine. ‘They’re Vermicious Knids! Turn back at once!’
‘Reverse!’ yelled Grandma Georgina. ‘Go the other way!’
‘Dear lady,’ said Mr Wonka. ‘This isn’t a car on the motorway. When you are in orbit, you cannot stop and you cannot go backwards.’
‘I don’t care about that!’ shouted Grandma Josephine. ‘Put on the brakes! Stop! Back-pedal! The Knids’ll get us!’
‘Now let’s for heaven’s sake stop this nonsense once and for all,’ Mr Wonka said sternly. ‘You know very well my Elevator is completely Knidproof. You have nothing to fear.’
They were closer now and they could see the Knids pouring out from the tail of the Space Hotel and swarming like wasps around the Transport Capsule.
‘They’re attacking it!’ cried Charlie. ‘They’re after the Transport Capsule!’
It was a fearsome sight. The huge green egg-shaped Knids were grouping themselves into squadrons with about twenty Knids to a squadron. Then each squadron formed itself into a line abreast, with one yard between Knids. Then, one after another, the squadrons began attacking the Transport Capsule. They attacked in reverse with their pointed rear-ends in front and they came in at a fantastic speed.
WHAM! One squadron attacked, bounced off and wheeled away.
CRASH! Another squadron smashed against the side of the Transport Capsule.
‘Get us out of here, you madman!’ screamed Grandma Josephine. ‘What are you waiting for?’
‘They’ll be coming after us next!’ yelled Grandma Georgina. ‘For heaven’s sake, man, turn back!’
‘I doubt very much if that capsule of theirs is Knidproof,’ said Mr Wonka.
‘Then we must help them!’ cried Charlie. ‘We’ve got to do something! There are a hundred and fifty people inside that thing!’
Down on the Earth, in the White House study, the President and his advisers were listening in horror to the voices of the astronauts over the radio.
‘They’re coming at us in droves!’ Shuckworth was shouting. ‘They’re bashing us to bits!’
‘But who?’ yelled the President. ‘You haven’t even told us who’s attacking you!’
‘These dirty great greenish-brown brutes with red eyes!’ shouted Shanks, butting in. ‘They’re shaped like enormous eggs and they’re coming at us backwards!’
‘Backwards?’ cried the President. ‘Why backwards?’
‘Because their bottoms are even more pointy than their tops!’ shouted Shuckworth. ‘Look out! Here comes another lot!’ BANG! ‘We won’t be able to stand this much longer, Mr President! The waitresses are screaming and the chambermaids are all hysterical and the bell-boys are being sick and the hall porters are saying their prayers so what shall we do, Mr President, sir, what on earth shall we do?’
‘Fire your rockets, you idiot, and make a re-entry!’ shouted the President. ‘Come back to Earth immediately!’
‘That’s impossible!’ cried Showler. ‘They’ve busted our rockets! They’ve smashed them to smithereens!’
‘We’re cooked, Mr President!’ shouted Shanks. ‘We’re done for! Because even if they don’t succeed in destroying the capsule, we’ll have to stay up here in orbit for the rest of our lives! We can’t make a re-entry without rockets!’
The President was sweating and the sweat ran all the way down the back of his neck and inside his collar.
‘Any moment now, Mr President,’ Shanks went on, ‘we’re going to lose contact with you altogether! There’s another lot coming at us from the left and they’re aiming straight for our radio aerial! Here they come! I don’t think we’ll be able to . . .’ The voice cut. The radio went dead.
‘Shanks!’ cried the President. ‘Where are you, Shanks? . . . Shuckworth! Shanks! Showler! . . . Showlworth! Shucks! Shankler! . . . Shankworth! Show! Shuckler! Why don’t you answer me?!’