Free Starcross by Philip Reeve Page A

of polite behaviour, pushed his way into my chamber and said, ‘I saw them starting up the stairs. Munk and Nipper and Grindle with ’em, and all in those d——d hats! They’ll be here any minute!’
    ‘Who will?’ I hissed, flapping my hands at him to beg him to speak quieter, for fear my mother should hear him in my room. But before he could answer there was a commotion outside the door. I heard Art shout out something, and then a crash, as if a chair or table had fallen over.Then footsteps, other voices, and Mother’s voice crying, ‘Good Heavens, gentlemen! What is the meaning of this?’
    I ran to the door, and opened it to reveal a scene most indescribably alarming. The living room of our suite seemed full of persons in evening dress, two of whom were holding Mother, while another wrestled with Art. I uttered a loud yet ladylike cry, and in another moment Jack had slammed the door shut and locked it.
    ‘But Mr Munkulus is out there!’ I cried. ‘And Mr Spinnaker! What are they doing?’
    ‘They’re not in their right minds,’ Jack expostulated. ‘Those d—— hats control ’em somehow!’
    ‘Oh, Heavens! Then we must help Art and Mama!’
    ‘We are too late!’ he cried. ‘Myrtle, you must come with me!’
    I saw the sense in this suggestion, for someone had begun to batter against my bedroom door in the most intemperate way. So I followed Jack to the window and out on to the balcony. I did not entirely forget myself, I am glad to say, and as we passed the closet I reached in and snatched one of the mothproof calico bags in which I keep my dresses, so that I should have something decent to change into as soon as an opportunity presented itself.
    Luckily a narrow fire escape descended from my balcony to the gravelled driveway behind the hotel, so there was no question of climbing down drainpipes or knotted ropes. Unshod as I was, my feet made no sound upon those iron stairs, though Jack, who was wearing a most disreputablelooking pair of old space boots, set up a dreadful clatter. Nevertheless, we reached the ground without further ado, and Jack hurried me across a starlit stretch of open promenade and stopped in the shadows of the beach cafe. The windows were shuttered. The canvas of a nearby Punch & Judy booth flapped softly in the wind, but all else was silent as the grave.
    ‘What is going on?’ I demanded.
    ‘Wish I knew,’ said Jack. ‘It was your mother that put me on to it, talking about hats at dinnertime. Made me remember some dream I keep having, some strangeness about a hat … So straight after dinner I hunted about in my room, and there in my closet I found a hatbox: Titfer’s Top-Notch Toppers.’
    ‘What is so surprising about that?’ I asked. ‘Everyone knows that Titfer’s hats are the finest in Known Space.’
    ‘That’s just it,’ said Jack. ‘They ain’t! Think, Myrtle – can you honestly say you’d even heard of Titfer’s Top-NotchToppers before you came to Starcross?’
    ‘Well …’
    ‘I guessed there was something strange about the hat in that box. So I didn’t go to sleep tonight, but sat up and watched it. And about a half-hour back I started to get this strange sensation, like the hat was asking me to put it on.’
    ‘Oh, come, Jack, a talking hat?’
    ‘It didn’t use words. It was just a feeling, an itch inside my head … I wish I’d brought Ssil or the Twins here – they might have been able to explain it. I can’t. I only know that hat wanted me to put it on, and I wanted the same. But I restrained myself and stood a chair on top of that hatbox to stop it sneaking out, and ran downstairs. Because it had come to me, you see, that maybe Munkulus and Grindle had those things hid in their rooms too, and I wanted to warn ’em …
    ‘But I was too late. Halfway downstairs I met the whole crowd coming up, and a look at their faces was enough to tell me the hats had ’em. Once you put one of those things on, you’re gone; you’re just a body,