Scanner Kidz
Page 1
Copyright © R M Scotford 2017
www.scannerkidz.com
R M Scotford asserts the moral right to be identified as the author
of this work.
This novel is entirely a work of fiction.
The names, characters and incidents portrayed in it are the work of the author’s imagination. Any resemblance to actual persons, either living or dead, events or localities are entirely coincidental.
All rights reserved.
No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic mechanical, photocopying, recording or otherwise, without prior permission of the publisher.
Original Artwork Images Copyright © Rob Scotford 2017
www.robscotford.com
ISBN: 978-1-54390-481-9 (print)
ISBN: 978-1-54390-482-6 (ebook)
For Bel, Dream Maker.
Contents
Scanner Kidz in The Kiddy-Care Conspiracy
A Busy Night
Release Day
From Zero To Hero
The Digital Detonator
Bill Who?
Maggie’s Chase
Super Science Kid
Best Buddies
Pop!
Nursey Head Boom Boom
The Battle of the Spinney
Missing or Malfunctioning?
Loft Lab
Sunday Afternoon
Colourful Kids
A Monstrous Miracle
Superpowers
Blue Ninja Kid
Marg and PowerMan
Joke
This is not PowerMan!
Scanner Kidz
The Kiddy-Care Conspiracy
Meltdown
Crispy Bacon
Gnomesville
Grounded
A Grey Day
The Plan
What’s a Woggle?
How Much is a Bob?
A Good Cause
It’s A Kinda Magic?
Pen Thingy
The Big Egg
The Convention
Dump
Pear-Shaped
Ninja Nannies
To The Roof
Epilogue: A Slow Boat To China
So, what happened to..?
Want Some More?
Scanner Kidz in The
Kiddy-Care Conspiracy
After a freak accident in Baby Ward C, Nurse Hobbs and twelve newborn babies have their molecular makeup reshuffled. Ten years later and the children are just learning about their unique, telepathic powers.
For Nurse Hobbs, however, the passing of ten years has been a supercharged rollercoaster ride. She is catapulted from obscurity at the local hospital to owner and CEO of a powerful, multinational company specializing in childcare. Her empire now spans across the globe; her brand of kindergarten care can be found on a street corner in every major city. An army of greedy investors is queuing up to fund her final ‘World Plan.’
All is not as it seems at the world’s largest kindergarten kingdom. Secretly the evil Nurse Hobbs plans to hold all the governments of the world to ransom with an army of ‘overly nice’ self-detonating nursery teachers: K-BOTS. Only the extraordinary telepathic powers of the Scanner Kidz can save the world’s preschoolers from certain destruction if they could only figure out how to stop fighting each other first.
Join the Scanner Kidz on a fast paced, fun packed, zany adventure into the whacky side of kindergarten care and growing up with telepathic, super powers.
A Busy Night
Kramer stroked his long droopy antennae.
“You know what it would take to make me leave this hospital?”
“I have no idea, Kramer. In fact, I don’t care,” replied Bassalt, while picking a tiny bit of wire out of his teeth.
“I’ll tell you what it would take, NOTHING. And do you know why it would take nothing?”
“Enlighten me,” Bassalt yawned.
“Because there’s absolutely NOTHING here. There’s no FOOD; there’s no GIRLS, there’s NO ACTION.”
“Whadya mean?” cried Bassalt. “There’s plenty of grub here.”
“Yeah right, if you call eating circuits and wires grub.”
“Well, what else are circuits and wires? It’s grub, it’s a living, and it’s good for the waistline.” Bassalt pinched the tiny layer of bug flab that hung delicately around his waist.
“I’ll tell you what I call circuits and wires,” screamed Kramer. “Circuits and wires are CIRCUITS AND WIRES. It’s not food; it’s JUNK. I want chips, and I’m not talking about the black and silver computer variety, I’m talking about the delicious, mouth-watering potato variety. Do you remember those, or is your gut so filled up with short circuits that you’ve forgotten?”
“All right, all right, keep your hair on. No need to blow your top. Keep your casket in your basket. Don’t blow your nose on your clothes.”
Kramer rolled his huge eyes, “That’s it, I’m outta here.” He scurried up a wire as fast as his six legs would carry him. Bassalt looked around, the vast array of circuits that lay before him no longer looked as appetizing. He scampered up the pipe in the direction of Kramer.
“Kramer,” he shouted, “Kramer, can we talk?”
It had been a busy night in Baby Ward C. Nurse Hobbs scanned down the list of names.
“Six babies since nine o’clock this evening,” she beamed. “Oh, My.”
She glanced at her watch; it was five minutes to midnight if any more babies were born before morning the ward would be overflowing. All twelve beds were already taken. She looked lovingly across the sea of small cots, each holding a tiny newborn. The room purred to the sound of their tiny breaths and the occasional baby fart. Nurse Hobbs smiled; she loved everything about babies, even the stinky end. She walked up and down the ward gazing affectionately into each cot.
“My, my, what a mix of little ones we have here tonight; big ones, small ones, brown ones, white ones, yellow ones, fat ones, thin ones and — a red one?” Nurse Hobbs picked up the chart that was hanging on the end of the bed and read the baby’s name: “GUILLEMO PEW, hmmmmmm,” she said softly. “My, my, this one sure looks funny, like an over-ripe tomato.”
The baby snuffled and spluttered in its sleep, unaware of the nurse’s affection. Carefully she replaced the chart and made her way quietly out of the ward. In just a few hours, the room would be screaming with hungry babies, but now, just before midnight, all was calm and peaceful.
As the last seconds before midnight ticked away, Kramer and Bassalt made their way quietly through another electronic machine. Kramer’s antennae gently tapped out a path in front of him like a blind man.
“Wait,” shouted Kramer. “Wait, wait — Waaaaaaait. Yup, I think it’s, it’s...”
“What? What is it?” interrupted Bassalt excitedly.
“Yup, I’m pretty certain it’s — a...” Kramer deftly ran his antennae all over the object in front of them, which lay hidden in the darkness.
“I’m pretty sure — it’s another CIRCUIT!” Kramer screamed sarcastically. “Yippee, just what I was looking for.”
“You know, you really should take a look at your attitude,” Bassalt retorted.
“Really?” said Kramer.
“Yes, REALLY,” Bassalt snapped. “It’s not healthy for a cockroach to think the way you do.”
“Well, who ever heard of a healthy cockroach, anyway?” Kramer quipped.
“You know, not only does your attitude stink, but YOU stink too. Now be quiet while I eat. Have you tried these red wires? They’ve got a lovely zingy tang to them.”
Bassalt held up a wire and offered it to Kramer.
“Zingy? Like a fresh baby strawberry?” Kramer asked.
&nbs
p; “Just eat it and stop whining.”
Kramer opened his mouth and took a huge bite of the plump wire. His teeth sank deeply into the soft, red rubber. He got more than a zingy, refreshing taste. Surges of electrical current flooded through his little body lighting him up like a Christmas tree. Fire flicked from his eyes as an army of electrons leaped around his mouth. The electricity hopped from Kramer onto Bassalt and the pair of them were caught up in an electrically explosive break-dance routine.
Quickly the current skipped from circuit to circuit causing massive failures of the computer system they inhabited. Unbeknown to Kramer and Bassalt, they’d wandered into the hospital’s brand new, high-speed DNA moleculiser machine. Kramer’s tiny jaws had triggered catastrophic chain reactions that rapidly lead to a critical meltdown of the hospital’s electronic equipment. An electro-magnetic leak was unstoppable. A cataclysmic explosion was possible. As the clock struck twelve, Baby Ward C was flooded with a super tsunami-sized wave of molecular energy and Nurse Hobbs’ DNA was about to become supercharged.
“My, my, that’s a lovely cup of tea,” Nurse Hobbs remarked as her DNA was reshuffled like a pack of cards.
The invisible wave washed silently over each cot scrambling each baby’s genetic code like an omelette. Back in the main computer room of the hospital, a red warning light flashed on.
BEEP.
Instantly, a switch was tripped and the power for the hospital switched across to the back-up generator: 264P.
BEEP.
A green light flicked on to show that the power was back on. Across the hospital, machines and lights began switching themselves on again after the temporary break in power. In Baby Ward C, the babies slept soundly, unaware that a leak had taken place. Their tiny bodies, being so new and soft, soaked up the energy like sponges. Between the twelve small infants and Nurse Hobbs’ big, fat butt they’d managed to absorb enough supercharged energy to change the world forever.
Release Day
Nurse Hobbs watched contentedly as the morning sun scattered its rays across the ward. It had been a busy night, and as the first rays of light began filtering into the ward, she put the last crying baby to sleep. Feeding twelve babies throughout the night was a tough and tiring job, but surprisingly, on this particular morning, she didn’t feel tired at all. In fact, she felt positively charged. She felt ten years younger and a hundred pounds lighter.
It was a new dawn and a new day, the night’s activities had gone unnoticed. The generator and broken circuits would be fixed. The two charred cockroaches would be found and blamed for the power malfunction, and no one would be any wiser that the warm glow of the sun had welcomed into the world a new force for evil and twelve little heroes to save it.
Junior doctor Travis Dent scanned down his hospital record sheet. Something was amiss, but he couldn’t quite put his finger on it. The babies in Ward C were all healthy. The problem was they were too healthy. He read through the notes for each child. One particular comment caught his eye:
Maggie is a very alert child and has been sitting up for the past few hours.
Travis tapped his pen on the clipboard; the baby ward was turning out to be quite a puzzle for him. Admittedly he didn’t know much about babies and the sooner he got out of the ward the better. He’d signed up to be a doctor because he wanted to change the world, not so he could wipe babies’ dirty bums, but there was something about Ward C that he couldn’t quite understand. In fact, there was one big thing about Ward C that he neither understood nor liked.
“Doctor Travis!” Nurse Hobbs shouted from across the room. “I’ve told you about cluttering up my ward. Is there anything I can do for you?”
“Erh, erh, erh, it’s release time for all the little ones,” he stammered.
“My, my, Doctor Travis, what would I do without you? Do you think that I don’t know my own ward? Come on, shoo, shoo. I have work to do, and I don’t need you under my feet.”
Summoning up all his courage Travis stammered out the question that was worrying him,
“What about the babies’ charts?”
“Charts? Charts? What on earth are you talking about, Doctor? What do you know about charts? There’s nothing wrong with the charts. A fine and healthy bunch of little uns they are. My, my, Doctor, please don’t bother me with your schoolbook doctoring. Now be off with you before I call security.”
Travis nervously stroked away a few beads of sweat from his brow. He gazed down the list of names. To be released from the hospital each name required his authorisation. He took a deep breath and scribbled his spidery signature next to each one.
Jessie Bennett
Maximus Chan
Maggie Chase
Cameron Coot
Aiyanna Fernando
Douggie Harrison
Kimiko Izumi
Abu Ismael
Rommi Katz
Guillermo Pew
Hanna Singh
Jimmy Tucker
There. He did it. Travis heaved a sigh of relief. The children were no longer the responsibility of the hospital or under his care. Soon their parents would collect them, and the ward would be empty. Travis turned to leave the ward.
“Doctor Travis, my form please,” Nurse Hobbs called out impatiently.
“My, my, Doctor Travis, what exactly are they teaching you in medical school?”
Travis hastily ripped off the release form from his clipboard and left it on the nearest bed. Without looking back, he slipped out of the ward and down the stairs, putting the thought of the children out of his mind forever... or so he thought.
By three o’clock Baby Ward C was deserted. Happy parents had collected their little ones, completely unaware of how different they were. Bob the cleaner flung his broom in big sweeping arcs along the floor of the ward as he whistled a tune; it was another fine day. There was cleaning to be done, and new babies would arrive. Ward C would soon be full with a fresh batch of babies and many years would pass before anyone would know where twelve mysteriously gifted children had come from.
From Zero To Hero
Ten years passed and across the country, the children from Baby Ward C celebrated their birthdays uneventfully. The same could not be said of Nurse Hobbs. For her, the passing of ten years had been an explosive roller coaster ride. She had been catapulted from obscurity at the local hospital to owner and managing director of a powerful, multinational company specializing in childcare.
Her empire spanned across the globe, and her brand of kindergarten care could be found on a street corner in every major city. An army of investors was queuing up to fund her final ‘World Plan.’ The name Kiddy-Care would become more famous than Starbucks and more numerous than McDonald’s restaurants. Nurse Hobbs or, ‘Lady Hobbs,’ as she now liked to call herself, wanted nothing less than complete market domination. No independent nursery, kindergarten or learning centre was safe. Her company consumed them all. Buying them up, repackaging them with the Kiddy-Care brand label and spitting them out as pieces of her giant world plan.
It hadn’t always been sacks of cash and endless power meetings for Nurse Hobbs though. After the invisible energy leak at the hospital, her personality began to get more and more disagreeable. Her huge butt had soaked up bucket loads of Free Radicals; she made the Toxic Invader look and smell like a weak hamster fart in comparison. Nurse Hobbs was loaded to the max with a weird and warped energy, and it showed. Poor Doctor Travis Dent had left the hospital never to return to medicine again, after a particularly nasty encounter. Baby Ward C had been re-named The Lion’s Den, and it had taken an entire county SWAT team to finally remove her from the Ward.
Nurse Hobbs then fell into a deep state of depression; after all, she’d been working in the baby ward for over twenty-five years. She poured her terrible moods onto her submissive husband, Grenwold. Grenwold was a tiny slip of a man, but what he lacked in size he made up for in brainpower. He had a brilliant mind; nothing was either too complex or too mind-boggling for his brain. In fact, his
brain was so big that most of his hair had fallen out to make room for more brain cells.
Nurse Hobbs was down, but she wasn’t out. This woman was supercharged; if you had plugged her into the national grid, she could have powered a small city for a decade. Her energy was not going to be wasted, so for three years, she hid away in her little house on the hill planning her comeback. She hit the world of business like a battlefield nuke.
Her business, Kiddy-Care, was an instant hit; parents were hungry for a new style of education for their preschoolers. By the end of the first year Nurse Hobbs had opened up ten centres and parents were queuing at the door. The colourful décor and over-friendly staff was the perfect recipe for making money. With the money came power, and with power came even more money. Kiddy-Care quickly became a moneymaking machine. Soon Nurse Hobbs had a bigger bank balance than Bill Gates. Her bank couldn’t print money fast enough.
Now, the world was hers for the taking, and nothing could stop her.
Or so she thought...
The Digital Detonator
Children ran screaming around the Kiddy-Care Centre. It was 9 am: drop off time. At this time of the morning, the centre was more like an out-of-control mental ward than a pre-school. Deranged, sugar-charged infants bounced off every available surface like gumballs. Douggie Harrison watched his little brother fly around the centre like a tornado and sighed. Douggie hated coming to the Kiddy-Care Centre. The children were all bonkers, and the nursery assistants were scary. It wasn’t normal to be so nice all the time.
“Hi Douggie, how are yuoooooooooo?” cooed Brigitte, the senior nursery teacher.
“I’m good,” mumbled Douggie, shrinking his neck down into his shoulders and disappearing into his favourite yellow T-shirt like a turtle disappearing into its shell.
“Cooooo, coooooo — Douggie. You’re such a good brother, coooooo,” Brigitte clucked.
“Yeah, whatever,” thought Douggie.
It was time to make his escape. He looked across at his brother, Stanley, who was happily pulling a girl across the play mats by her hair. Yep. Stanley had made himself at home. Douggie made for the door, avoiding eye contact with the three scary assistants who seemed to be blocking the entrance.