‘All right,’ said Nicola, hoping it wouldn’t take too long. They really needed to get going soon.

‘“If enough Shobble people sign a petition on a length of rose-coloured parchment, calling politely and respectfully for the removal of a Commander-in-Chief, and that parchment is long enough to stretch the length of a Shobble rainbow, then the Commander must resign gracefully and immediately, whereupon an election must be held for a new Commander. An attractive thank-you card should be sent to the resigning Commander within fourteen days.”’

The Space Brigade stared at Horatio. Surely it couldn’t be that easy.

‘My great-grandmother was a stickler for good manners,’ said Horatio. ‘That’s why there is all that stuff about “politely” and “respectfully”.’

‘But Enrico would just ignore the Constitution,’ said Sean. ‘Or maybe he’s even changed that rule already.’

‘Nobody can change the Constitution,’ said Horatio. ‘That’s clause number 1739-ZZZZ-1749237937432798489, which says, “The Constitution is perfect, thanks very much, and cannot and shall not ever be changed.” And the Constitution certainly cannot be ignored, even by Naughty Enrico. The little rogue!’

‘Well,’ said Nicola doubtfully. She could so easily imagine Enrico curling his lip and saying he was far too important for the Constitution to apply to him. ‘But why hasn’t anyone thought of this before?’

‘I expect because the Constitution takes up over two thousand volumes and nobody can be bothered to read it all,’ said Horatio.

Suddenly Nicola was filled with hope. This will solve everything. This mission will be as easy as pie! We’ll just arrange for a petition as long as a rainbow calling for Enrico’s resignation!

She shook herself. ‘Why does this valley make you feel so hopeful?’ she asked Horatio.

‘They say that it’s this particular species of tree.’ Horatio pointed out a gnarled old tree with fat purple leaves. ‘It’s called the Hope Tree. Apparently it releases a particular chemical that triggers a feeling of hopefulness.’

‘So it’s not real,’ said Greta, looking disappointed.

‘Oh, hopes are always real,’ said Horatio. ‘It’s just that most of the time we try to squish them down. In the valley, our hopes are allowed to grow and flourish – like they should!’

As they were packing up their picnic, Shimlara said to Horatio, ‘May I ask you a question, Horatio?’

‘Certainly.’

‘Why do you live here in the valley all alone? Don’t you have a family?’

‘I had a falling out with my family many years ago,’ said Horatio. ‘There was a terrible argument over the merits of milk chocolate versus dark chocolate. Unforgivable things were said – mostly by me. I stormed off in a huff one stormy night and ended up here.’