by Mark Powers
‘April,’ said Flax calmly, ‘the game’s up. Just surrender.’
The little girl cackled wildly. ‘It’s not over yet, you long-eared loser.’ She rolled up her sleeve to reveal a thick metal wristband into which a red button was set. She jabbed it and something resembling a rucksack made of shiny metal began to assemble itself on her back. There was a whine of engines. ‘I never go anywhere without my emergency jetpack! Laters, guys!’ She grabbed the unconscious form of Victor the sloth from the floor and pressed the red button on the wristband again. With a mighty WHOOOSSHH, a stream of fire shot from the jetpack’s engines and April and Victor smashed through the window and up into the sky.
Arabella groaned in frustration. ‘The little brat’s getting away.’
Flax was still staring at the teleport controls. He was not a happy rabbit. ‘We have another problem, too. Rather a big one as it goes.’
‘What now?’ asked Dan.
‘When I requested the teleport to bring back the last thing it had transported, I accidentally asked it bring back the last two things it had transported.’
‘So what does that mean?’
‘It means,’ said Flax, ‘that the entire Bogey Cola bottling plant is going to teleport into this room in a few seconds’ time.’
‘Ouch,’ said Arabella. ‘Sounds like a bit of a squeeze.’
‘Now would be an excellent time to run for our lives,’ suggested Flax.
CHAPTER NINE
LOOSE ENDS
Jack and the three Spy Toys raced out of the Learnatorium with seconds to spare before the building’s walls exploded in showers of rubble. An entire fizzy drink bottling plant had appeared out of nowhere within the teleport room, bursting the Learnatorium apart like an overinflated balloon.
Jack noticed a familiar shape parked near the rear of the wrecked museum. ‘My rocket bike!’ he cried. ‘It must have got teleported here with the Learnatorium!’
‘Hop on it, kid,’ commanded Arabella. ‘And get the heck out of here. Contact the DEPARTMENT OF SECRET AFFAIRS. Tell them to send help. Who’d have thought one pigtailed pipsqueak could be so hard to beat?’
Flax squinted into the sky. April Spume was a tiny dot receding into the distance. ‘How on earth are we going to catch her?’
‘I know just how, big ears,’ said Arabella, and removed the sheet of folded A4 from her pocket.
Flax snorted. ‘What are you going to do with that? Make a paper plane?’
Like a streaking white comet, the paper plane whizzed and swished and soared over the WORLDLAND MODEL VILLAGE in pursuit of April Spume. They chased her over a tiny Oslo, across a miniature Abu Dhabi, past an itsy-bitsy Prague and around a pygmy Amsterdam. April’s jetpack was swift and highly manoeuvrable, forcing the plane to make sharp twists and dives and swerves.
She hid behind a model of the Leaning Tower of Pisa and watched as the plane zoomed past.
‘Fools!’ she said with a chuckle, and sped away in the opposite direction. But then she heard the roar of the plane’s jet engines and knew they were right behind her once again.
She searched around in vain for a hiding place, looked upwards, and suddenly smiled a small, self-satisfied smile.
On board the paper plane, Flax jabbed a finger at a large grey cloud floating peacefully overhead. ‘She’s going to try and lose us in there! Head for it as fast as you can!’
‘You got it, bunny boy,’ said Arabella, and pulled back on the throttle.
The paper plane sped upwards, gaining on the tiny, distant shape of April Spume, and slipped into the feathery greyness of the cloud.
Dan peered around. ‘Any sign of her?’
Suddenly, an alarm hooted.
‘Oh great,’ muttered Arabella.
‘What’s up?’
‘That little clever clogs,’ growled Arabella. ‘I bet she knew this would happen.’
‘What’s going on?’ demanded Flax.
‘What’s the worst thing that can happen to a paper plane?’ said Arabella. ‘It can get wet!’
‘It can what?’
Around them, the sleek surfaces of the plane were turning a mottled grey colour and starting to crumple …
Hovering in her jetpack on the other side of the cloud, April watched as the Spy Toys’ paper plane began to plummet earthwards, its waterlogged wings fluttering uselessly. She flicked the switch behind Victor’s ear to ON. ‘You’ll like this! Look at those ridiculous toys falling to their doom!’
The mechanical sloth gave an amused grunt.
The soggy plane clipped the top of a large sign protruding from the roof of the Bogey Cola Plant. The sign read:
BOGEY COLA – THE SOFT DRINK EVERYONE PICKS!
This slight collision slowed the plane’s descent and sent it spinning and tumbling to the ground in a soggy heap. The sign toppled forward on to the bottling plant’s huge spherical storage tank and a massive torrent of fizzing green liquid began to gush out.
Dan, Arabella and Flax emerged groggily from the soggy wreckage of the paper plane. ‘I really must mention this little design flaw to Dr Willows next time I see her,’ muttered Arabella.
Flax pointed, wide-eyed, at the fizzing tidal wave of green liquid heading straight for them. All he could think of to say was, ‘Eep.’ He, Dan and Arabella sprinted towards the model of the Eiffel Tower and shinned their way to the top, hoping to escape the rising tide of Bogey Cola.
High above, April Spume roared with laughter and hugged her mechanical sloth. ‘Oh, what fun, Victor! Look at those tiny idiots run! The whole of WORLDLAND MODEL VILLAGE is filling with Bogey Cola!’
Flax watched April’s jetpack zigzag overhead. ‘What does that remind me of?’ he murmured to himself.
‘Is it our imminent death, by any chance?’ snapped Arabella.
‘It’s a cabbage!’ cried Flax delightedly. ‘She looks just like a flying cabbage!’
Dan and Arabella exchanged one of their what-the-heck-is-the-daft-bunny-babbling-on-about-now? looks.
Flax reached into his school bag and drew out the EMP emitter. He pointed it upwards, tracking the course of April’s jetpack.
‘You’ll never hit her with a burst from that thing,’ snorted Arabella. ‘She’s moving way too fast.’
Flax winked at her. ‘Did I ever tell you guys that I’m a natural at TURBO BADGER?’
Dan and Arabella exchanged a second look.
Flax activated the EMP emitter. There was a loud buzz, and high above them, the engines of April’s jetpack suddenly spluttered and then fell silent. April began to lose height.
Flax, Arabella and Dan watched as April Spume and her mechanical sloth plummeted from the sky and plopped into the rising ocean of fizzing soft drink.
After a second, she bobbed to the surface like a cork. ‘Help!’ she called in a frantic gargle of a voice. ‘I may be super-clever but I’ve never actually taken the time to learn to swim! Help me!’ A sudden surging current of Bogey Cola snatched her away and carried her towards the model of London, where it wedged her painfully between Big Ben and the House of Commons. Victor the sloth clambered on to April’s head, fearful of the rising tide of frothing green liquid.
Dan stared down at the fizzing green waves. ‘So what do you reckon? We swim for it?’
Before either of his colleagues could answer, there was a roar of rotor blades and a huge helicopter swung into view. Two hatches opened in its side, revealing the smiling faces of Jack, Auntie Roz and Dr Willows.
Auntie Roz raised her eyebrows. ‘Need a lift?’
‘So sorry about the plane malfunction, guys,’ said Dr Willows, blushing hotly. ‘I did make a note somewhere to include a layer of waterproofing but I think I must have got distracted and forgotten …’
The three Spy Toys leaped aboard. Flax pointed towards the model Parliament where April was squirming between the famous landmarks. ‘She’s behind all this. We need to get her out.’
‘How do we do that?’ asked Dan.
‘Hold o
n to one of my legs and one of Arabella’s and dangle us out of the helicopter.’
‘And then?’
‘We each grab a pigtail.’
Safely back in their luxurious apartment in Mulbarton Street once again, the rabbit, the teddy bear and the rag doll waited impatiently by their huge video screen. No adventure was truly over, they knew, until Auntie Roz had had her say.
True to form, the screen flickered into life and the large, commanding features of the head of the DEPARTMENT OF SECRET AFFAIRS appeared.
‘Ah!’ announced Auntie Roz briskly. ‘You’re there. Jolly good. I suppose you want all the loose ends tying up, do you? Very well.’
Arabella shrugged. ‘I’m more interested in the action than the boring talky stuff, to be honest. But go on, if you must.’
‘Firstly,’ said Auntie Roz, ‘all the SIKBAG children have been safely returned, thanks to your clever spycraft, Flax. The disappearance is being explained by saying children were taking part in a massive game of hide-and-seek. People seem to be buying that, so far. Seems the public will swallow any old fib if you tell them it in a confident enough voice.’
Flax beamed with quiet pride.
‘Secondly,’ continued Auntie Roz, ‘Miss April Spume and Master Sebastian Plum are being sent to the Archibald Honk School for Exceptionally Naughty Youngsters, where they will be studied by scientists, taught the error of their ways and soundly thrashed with a cricket bat.’
Dan gasped. ‘Thrashed with a –?’
Auntie Roz guffawed. ‘That last bit was my little joke. They shall of course be treated with the utmost kindness. Not that they deserve it, if you ask me. Now, watch this.’
The image of Auntie Roz vanished. In its place appeared four different video images showing gaping holes in the ground. With bursts of blue light, large buildings appeared in each of the four holes: the Bogey Cola bottling plant, the studios of Kidzland TV, the Snaztacular Ultrafun factory and, finally, the factory of Chimpwick’s Chocolate.
‘Once more, children are free to have their teeth rotted, their brains turned to mush and their attention distracted from schoolwork by all the pleasures of life – thanks to the Spy Toys.’
‘Yeah, brilliant,’ said Dan without interest. ‘If that’s everything, then, we’ll say cheerio. Sorry to rush but I’ve booked us in for an intensive course of advanced spy training this afternoon and we don’t want to be late. The worksheets look fascinating.’
‘Ah,’ said Flax. ‘Sorry, Dan. Just remembered. Can’t make the course because I promised Jack I’d pop round for a few games of TURBO BADGER. Dr Willows is joining us too. She’s so good at that game. Well, you can’t work all the time, you know.’
Arabella gave Flax a hard stare. ‘You feeling OK, cottontail?’
‘There is actually one small matter remaining,’ said Auntie Roz with an odd grin.
The stomachs of all three toys knotted. Something told them trouble was coming.
‘Do you remember,’ asked Auntie Roz, ‘a young lady by the name of Pandora Grebe whom I mentioned might be paying you a visit with a view to conducting an interview with you?’
‘Oh,’ said Dan.
‘Ah,’ said Arabella.
‘Er,’ said Flax.
‘It seems she was found clinging to a discarded tyre floating in the middle of the Thames after being catapulted some considerable distance through the air. However, the young woman appears to have amnesia and cannot recall how this occurred. Ringing any bells?’
‘Um,’ said Dan.
‘Umm,’ said Arabella.
‘Ummm,’ said Flax.
Auntie Roz leaned in until her face filled the screen. ‘Between you and me,’ she whispered, ‘I was never really that keen on the woman. Found her an awful bore, truth be told. So no harm done, eh, chaps? Good afternoon.’
The screen went blank.
HAVE YOU READ DAN, ARABELLA AND FLAX’S FIRST ADVENTURE?
Dan is a teddy bear.
He’s made for hugging.
Aw, so cute, right?
WRONG!
Dan’s so strong he can CRUSH CARS.
But what makes him a FAULTY TOY
could make him the PERFECT SPY.
Together with a robot police rabbit and one seriously angry doll, Dan joins a TOP SECRET TEAM designed to STOP CRIMINALS in their tracks.
And just in time! An evil elephant hybrid is planning to kidnap the prime minister’s son.
This is a job for …
SPY TOYS
CHAPTER ONE
IF HUGS COULD KILL
It was a normal Tuesday morning at the factory of Snaztacular Ultrafun, the world’s biggest toy manufacturer. Hundreds of conveyor belts whirred and clanked, carrying thousands of gleaming new toys towards the brightly coloured boxes in which they would be packed and delivered to shops. Balls, bikes, building blocks … dolls, dominoes, ducks … whistles, walkie-talkies, water pistols – the factory made them all.
Snaztacular Ultrafun’s toys were not like the ones made by other companies. They were much cleverer and much more fun. Every toy contained a tiny computerised brain that gave it a personality and allowed it to walk and talk as if it were alive. They were the ultimate playthings: bikes that took you home if you were too tired to pedal, footballs who wanted to be kicked, board games whose pieces tidied themselves away once you had finished playing with them, dolls that acted just like real people. Children went crazy over them.
A red light flashed on a control panel. An alarm hooted.
‘Yikes!’ cried a white-coated technician who had been monitoring that morning’s toy production, leaping out of his chair in surprise and banging his knee on the leg of his desk.
As each toy trundled on its way along the conveyor belt, it underwent a complicated series of scans and tests to make sure it was working properly. The company was rightly proud of its products and it wanted each toy to be perfect for the child who would eventually play with it. The red light meant a fault had been detected in one of the toys. And if the technician let a faulty toy leave the factory, he would get in big trouble with his boss.
Rubbing his knee, the technician examined his computer screen. The system had detected a problem with one of the Snugaliffic Cuddlestar teddy bears. The Snugaliffic Cuddlestar range were the most advanced teddy bears money could buy. They could sing lullabies, tell bedtime stories, bring you a glass of warm milk – but most of all they were designed for cuddling. When you hugged one of these bears, it actually hugged you back. In a world where many parents were simply too busy to do trivial things like hug their children, they sold in their millions.
The technician jabbed a button on his control panel. A huge metal claw descended from the ceiling and snatched the faulty teddy bear from the conveyor belt.
The teddy bear’s eyes flickered open. He had been expecting to find himself in a cardboard box, rattling along the road in the back of a lorry on his way to a toyshop. Instead, he saw that he was in a dingy metal room. There was a table, a chair, a computer, a half-eaten ham sandwich. But no children to play with. He frowned. What was going on?
The door opened and the white-coated technician entered. He was carrying a large object that was hidden under a white sheet. He placed the object on the floor and consulted his computer screen.
‘You are Snugaliffic Cuddlestar serial number 427935, yes? Made this morning?’
The teddy bear nodded. ‘Yep.’
‘It says here you’ve been assigned the name Dan. Is that correct?’
‘That’s me,’ said the teddy bear. All Snaztacular Ultrafun toys were given individual names to help make them unique.
‘Well, Dan, it’s like this. The computer says you’re faulty and it’s up to me to find out whether it’s something that can be fixed. We have a reputation for making the best toys in the world and we can’t let shoddy merchandise out on to the market, can we?’
‘Whatever you say, pal,’ said Dan the teddy bear. He wasn’t interested in boring stuf
f about markets or companies’ reputations. He was programmed for fun.
‘Good,’ said the technician. ‘Let’s get started.’ He whipped the sheet off the mysterious object he had brought with him.
Dan’s large brown eyes widened in surprise. The object appeared to be a little girl with a miserable expression and outstretched arms. She looked in serious need of a hug.
The technician rapped his knuckles on the girl’s head. It made a hollow metallic sound. ‘This is a hug test dummy,’ he explained. ‘The electronics inside it will tell us how good you are at hugging. Pressure, duration, snuggliness and so forth. Kindly hug the dummy for me, Dan.’
Dan dashed forward. This was more like it! He was made for hugging and now he had a chance to do some! He embraced the dummy girl in his furry arms and gave her a good squeeze.
There was a screech of wrenching metal followed by a loud bang. Dan stepped back, shocked. The dummy girl fell to the floor, her back bent horribly out of shape, her arms twisted at alarming angles and smoke pouring gently from her ears.
The technician raised his eyebrows. ‘Oh dear.’
‘What happened?’ asked Dan.
The technician waved a small electronic device over Dan’s head. The device bleeped and the technician consulted a little screen set into it. ‘Ah. Just as I thought. Unfortunate.’
‘What is it?’
‘You have a faulty snuggle chip. It’s telling your robotic limbs to use a thousand times the usual pressure. In simple terms, you don’t know your own strength. I’m afraid you can’t be allowed near children.’ He gestured to the twisted remains of the hug test dummy. ‘Imagine if you did that to a real child. That would not be good for business.’
