Space Rocks! by Tom O'Donnell Page B

extended her hand.
    â€œPleased to meet you,” I said and waited. Her hand was still out. At last I grudgingly handed her a Feeney’s Original Astronaut Ice Cream bar. She looked confused and then handed it back to me. That was good. I really hadn’t wanted to give her one.
    â€œSince we only have four bikes, Chorkle can ride with me,” said Little Gus, clapping me on the back. I suddenly recalled watching him wreck his rocket-bike a dozen times when I’d observed these humans before. I didn’t want to end up a Chorkle-colored stain on some jagged rocks.
    â€œMaybe should ride with Hollins,” I said, “as guide.”
    â€œGood point,” said Hollins. “Hop on the back.” I climbed onto the rocket-bike behind him and grasped him around the trunk.
    â€œEveryone ready?” said Hollins, firing up the ignition of his rocket-bike.
    â€œI kind of have to go to the bathroom,” said Nicki.
    â€œNo time. Just go in your spacesuit,” said Little Gus. “They all have automatic waste-processing capability.”
    â€œWhat?” said Becky. “No they don’t.” Everyone stared at Little Gus.
    â€œOh. Huh,” he said. “Oops.”
    â€œHang on, Chorkle,” said Hollins. And I did.
    There was a roar. Then we were hurtling across the asteroid’s surface at an impossible speed. Rocks and craters flashed past us in a blur. Hollins kept the rocket-bike steady with his hands on the pronged steering mechanism.
    Sometimes we’d swerve left or right to avoid an obstacle. Sometimes Hollins would give the bike a little altitude and we’d sail right over a boulder at the last possible instant. It was thrilling and terrifying at once, like some sort of a real-life hologram game.
    Just then another rocket-bike started to nose past. It was Becky, a broad grin spread across her face. She was turning this into another race.
    Hollins leaned forward and punched the accelerator, and we went even faster. But Becky was still ahead of us. I clung onto Hollins for dear life. I looked back. Far behind us, I saw Nicki shaking her head.
    â€œBecky, slow down! What are you doing?” said Hollins over their communicators.
    â€œIt’s called ‘piloting,’” she radioed back. “Don’t worry. I can teach you.” She actually sounded happy for the first time since the pod had crashed.
    Becky pulled dramatically into Jehe Canyon a few seconds before Hollins.
    â€œWow, glad you finally made it,” she laughed. “I was getting bored.”
    â€œThat was totally irresponsible,” yelled Hollins. “This is an emergency situation. Now is not the time to goof off.”
    â€œSorry, what did you say? I don’t speak loser,” said Becky. I had understood Hollins, so I felt a burst of pride that I apparently did speak loser.
    At last Nicki arrived in the canyon.
    â€œGuys, splitting up the group and traveling at high speed for no reason is kind of dangerous,” said Nicki. “You know that, right?” From the looks on their faces and their mumbled responses, they both knew that.
    Little Gus pulled up a little while later. His rocket-bike had a fresh dent in it, and his spacesuit was covered in dust.
    â€œGood thing you weren’t riding with me, Chorkle,” said Little Gus, rubbing his neck, “This rock came out of nowhere, and wham! I think I fractured my, uh . . . this bone right here.”
    â€œClavicle?” said Nicki.
    â€œGross, Nicki,” said Little Gus.
    â€œOkay, so where do we find these caves?” said Hollins to me.
    And so I brought four humans to the hidden entrance to the real Gelo.

CHAPTER FOURTEEN

    B efore I took them below, I encouraged the humans to conceal their rocket-bikes as best they could.
    â€œCouldn’t we use them to get around in the caves?” asked Nicki.
    â€œYeah. Beats walking,” said Becky.
    â€œNot inside,” I