‘My timing was fortuitous then,’ said Enrico.

‘Indeed,’ agreed Nicola, although she had no idea what ‘fortuitous’ meant.

‘And tell me, have you decided whether you would be willing to help us?’

Nicola didn’t hesitate. ‘Absolutely!’ Then she added quickly, ‘Depending, of course, on what the mission actually involves.’

Enrico said, ‘Of course, of course! May I suggest you drop by for dinner and a briefing? I assume you have your own transport?’

‘Yes, we do,’ said Nicola proudly, thinking of the Mini Easy-Ride Spaceship that Shimlara had left behind with Tyler after their last mission.

‘Excellent! Shall we say 6 pm?’

Nicola’s mouth dropped open. Did he mean 6 pm today?

‘Well, it’s been a pleasure speaking with you,’ said Enrico, without waiting for an answer. ‘I do look forward to meeting you. Oh, I’ll have someone pick you up at the SpacePort, of course. Cheerio!’

The line went dead. Slowly Nicola hung up the phone. My goodness, she thought. What have I done?

‘Well?’ said Sean.

‘We need to be on the planet of Shobble today at 6 pm,’ said Nicola. ‘For a mission briefing and dinner.’

‘EXCELLENT!’ said Sean.

‘Did you mention we weren’t exactly “highly trained”?’ asked Katie worriedly.

‘What are you talking about?’ said Sean. ‘We’re the best! We kick butt!’ He kicked over a chair to demonstrate.

‘So when should we leave?’ asked Tyler.

Everybody looked at Nicola expectantly and suddenly she remembered the huge weight of responsibility that came with being in charge. It was like lugging a heavy backpack when everybody else was walking around empty-handed.

‘Okay,’ she said. ‘We’ll have to pick up Shimlara from Globagaskar on the way. I don’t know how long it takes to get to Shobble and there are probably time differences, so, um, I think we should leave Earth by no later than, um, ten o’clock.’

‘Right! Meeting at ten hundred hours.’ Tyler stood to attention.

Nicola said, ‘I don’t know if it’s cold or hot on Shobble so you’d better bring summer and winter clothes just in case – oh, and pack anything else that you think might be useful.’

‘Like what?’ asked Katie, who had actually taken out a notepad and was writing down what Nicola said. Sometimes Nicola didn’t know which was worse: when the members of the Space Brigade didn’t respect her, or when they did.

‘I don’t know,’ she admitted. ‘Just think creatively.’

‘Right,’ said Katie uncertainly.

‘I guess I’d better call Greta,’ said Nicola. ‘And Sean, can you send Shimlara an i-mail?’

Everybody scattered. Nicola dialled Greta’s number, gritting her teeth in preparation. Normally it took only about thirty seconds of conversation with Greta before Nicola found herself wanting to bang her head against the nearest wall.

‘Hello?’

‘Hi, Greta, it’s Nicola.’

‘My mother says it’s bad manners to call anyone this early.’

Nicola turned and gently bumped her forehead against the kitchen wall.