Читать книгу Dogtective William in Space - Elizabeth Wasserman - Страница 6

“Do you know where Kazakhstan is?” the chief superintendent asked me as I hopped into the back of their minivan the following morning.

Kazakhstan? I shook my head. “Russia, perhaps?”

“More or less,” Spears said. “It used to be part of the Soviet Union, but these days Kazakhstan is an independent state.” The chief superintendent was sitting in the front, next to our driver. Both of them were dressed in dark suits and sunglasses. They looked nothing like a couple of teachers taking kids on an outing. My parents were really naïve! Which was a good thing, for I have had to spin some wild stories to keep them happy while William and I traipsed around the globe on our various adventures.

William is a black-and-white spotted spaniel with a past: before I rescued him from the pound, he used to be a highly trained dogtective who worked for the IDA. The mere mention of his name brought shivers to the spines of the most hardened criminals!

He was now retired, but his services were still occasionally required. He did not mind. After all, the life of a suburban pet could be boring. He considered it his duty to take me with him on his missions. To broaden my horizons, he said.

“Where is William?” Superintendent Spears asked.

I opened the zipper of my carry bag, and William’s head popped out. He shook his ears until they flapped noisily, and he blinked his eyes against the sudden glare of light. He always nodded off in cars, and I could hear his snores even when we rounded the first corner. But at the mention of his name he was ready for action!

“I hope you can explain why you have left Boris alone in space,” he growled at Spears.

“And good day to you too!” the superintendent said. “It warms my heart so see you again, old friend. And no, we are not abandoning Boris. This is why we are here to fetch you.”

“But what about him?” William asked, pointing his muzzle in my direction.

“Well, he can stay at the base until everything is sorted,” Spears replied. “We could have left him, I suppose, but I know he’ll fret about you. See, I am not half as heartless as you think. I thought it would be good if the two of you could at least stay in radio contact. It is going to be a very stressful mission. You have had excellent training, but you have never been to space.”

Space? Kazakhstan? Boris? I recalled the news on television the previous evening, and regretted that I’d only been listening with half an ear.

“Surely you are not considering sending my dog …”

But I had no time to complete my sentence. We had arrived at Cape Town International airport. The “school bus” was waved through a special entrance where armed security guards were on duty.

We drove to a section of the airport some distance away from the main terminal. Things proceeded at a fast pace: we entered a building through a door marked “Government officials and other VIPs”. Superintendent Spears handed me a passport marked “Diplomatic”. My name and photo were inside. “This will help you get around easier, and without your parents’ consent.”

I liked the sound of that.

All of the formalities were quickly dealt with and we found ourselves outside again, on a runway where a private jet was waiting. There wasn’t time to ask further questions. Before I could say “spotted spaniel”, we were rushed into the plane and the engines fired even before I had fastened my seatbelt.

I glanced around the interior of the luxurious aircraft. We were travelling in style. It was very different from the crate we travelled in when we mailed ourselves to Turkey, and very different also from my aunt Ada’s tiny yellow plane which flew us all the way to her farm on the banks of the Limpopo.

I thought that perhaps, one day, I would become a pilot.

Superintendent Spears explained to me that we were flying straight to Kazakhstan, where the base command of the International Space Station was situated. It was called the Baikonur Cosmodrome. It would take us fifteen hours to fly there, and he recommended that we try to catch some sleep on the way. We would need all our energy during the next few days.

But first we had a snack of some delicious sandwiches with cold drinks and doughnuts. William and I made ourselves comfortable in the luxurious seats, and I asked him about Boris and the International Space Station. “It is commonly known as the ISS,” he explained. He answered some of my questions, but I had a strong suspicion that he was keeping many things secret. He had the annoying habit of always feeding me facts on a “need-to-know” basis.

“We trained together when we were puppies,” he said. “Then I advanced to detective work while Boris was selected for the space programme. You are aware that the Russians sent dogs to space even before humans? And they kept on using them for missions that required exceptional loyalty and intelligence.”

I suspected otherwise: the Russians used dogs for missions that were too dangerous for humans. But I preferred not to mention that to him.

“A few decades ago, when the Cold War was in full swing, the Americans and the Russians competed for dominance in space,” Spears added from his seat beside us.

“Yes,” William said. “Russians enrolled dogs as the first astronauts because they are so much more clever than humans. Also, we adapt quickly to difficult circumstances, for example weightlessness in the absence of gravity. And, of course, we always obey orders.”

Not my dog! I thought. Throw him a ball and see who has to go and fetch it …

I remembered reading about the history of the Russian space dogs. “Didn’t some of them die on their missions?”

William looked sad. “Yes. A few of them paid the highest price for advancing science. Laika was the first dog in space. She did not make it back to Earth.”

For a few moments we sat in silence, thinking of the brave Laika.

“But that was a long time ago, not so, William? Do they still train dogs as astronauts?”

“It is true that space travel has become almost as safe as deep sea diving. But even in space, dogs are still humans’ best companions,” the chief superintendent said.

Despite all the excitement, I eventually managed to catch some sleep. I woke when William prodded me in the face with a wet nose, and we were told to fasten our seatbelts for the landing.