First published 2010 in Pan by Pan Macmillan Australia Pty Limited
1 Market Street, Sydney
Text copyright © Charlie Carter 2010
Illustration copyright © Russell Jeffery 2010
The moral rights of the creators have been asserted
All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted by any person or entity (including Google, Amazon or similar organisations), in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, scanning or by any information storage and retrieval system, without prior permission in writing from the publisher.
National Library of Australia
Cataloguing-in-Publication data:
Carter, Charlie.
Caveman bash / Charlie Carter.
9780330403887 (pbk.)
Carter, Charlie Battle boy ; 10.
For children.
A823.4
Designed by Russell Jeffery, Emigraph
Printed in Australia by McPherson’s Printing Group
Papers used by Pan Macmillan Australia Pty Ltd are natural, recyclable products made from wood grown in sustainable forests. The manufacturing processes conform to the environmental regulations of the country of origin.
These electronic editions published in 2010 by Pan Macmillan Australia Pty Ltd
1 Market Street, Sydney 2000
The moral right of the author has been asserted.
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Battle Boy 10: Caveman Bash
Charlie Carter
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Napoleon had a bad feeling.
He glanced behind him as he wrapped his lock around the bike stand.
A pair of new, blue, size 10 Converse sneakers were sticking out from below the bush near the library steps.
Someone was spying on him.
And I’d know those smelly feet anywhere, Napoleon thought. Because it takes a spy to know a spy. Especially when the other spy is … Monty!
Napoleon frowned. His brother had been acting weird for days. Always wanting to know where Napoleon was going. What he was doing. Who he was seeing.
And now – Monty had followed him to the library.
Napoleon had to give him the slip.
Quickly!
Professor Perdu was waiting. And so was Battle Book 91.
This was a Level 5 problem.
Napoleon thought about what he’d read in Spying 101:
It had never made much sense to him before. But suddenly it did!
Monty thought he was spying on Napoleon.
But Napoleon was secretly spying on Monty.
Napoleon climbed the steps of the library slowly.
Behind him, he heard a branch breaking and a grunt as Monty struggled out from the bush.
He’s not even a very good spy, thought Napoleon. This is going to be easy!
The library was dimly lit and long shelves of books reached grandly to the ceiling.
Napoleon ran behind the Endangered Species section in the third row, and crouched next to Orangutans on the Brink.
Seconds later, Monty went straight past him, further into the library.
Napoleon quietly double-backed to the Military History section.
At the end of the first row, he opened the small door that looked like a broom closet and raced down a spiral staircase, his footsteps a pitter-patter echo.
He soon reached the stainless steel door to the Special Reading Room and pressed his hand against the rubber palm pad so his DNA could be scanned.
Once the door hummed shut behind him, he wiped his forehead.
That was close, he thought. Too close.
‘Where have you been, Battle Boy?’ said the professor, striding over and thrusting some clothes into his arms. ‘No, don’t answer. There’s no time. Get changed immediately, please.’
Napoleon stepped into the change cubicle. When he emerged, he was wearing a lion skin that hung over one shoulder down to his knees. Pieces of roughly stitched buffalo hide were wrapped around his feet.
‘What is this smelly goo?’ he said. ‘I totally stink!’
‘You are meant to stink,’ said the professor. ‘You can’t just look like a caveman – sorry, caveboy. You need to smell like one as well.’
‘You are covered in authentic caveman goo, made from hyena fat and fresh bear poo,’ said Skin, Napoleon’s flesh-coloured body armour.
‘Terrific, thanks, Skin. Now I know I’m
super stinky!’
‘You are going back to observe one of the first battles ever fought by humans,’ said Professor Perdu. ‘Back to the Stone Age. We hope this battle will shed some light on what happened to the Neanderthals.’
‘They’re those really old humans, right?’ said Napoleon.
‘Yes. They were hunters and gatherers who lived all over Europe for at least a hundred thousand years. But about 28,000 years ago, they disappeared.’
‘Didn’t the Ice Age kill them off?’ said Napoleon. ‘That was pretty cold.’
‘That’s one theory. So is disease. And famine. But we think that the Neanderthals were wiped out by another group of humans who invaded their territory – the Cro-Magnons. They came from Africa and spread quickly through Europe. Skin will fill you in on the mission. Please proceed to the Tome Tower now.’
As Napoleon closed the Tome Tower hatch, Skin conducted his usual body checks. ‘Your pre-mission stress levels are fluctuating, Battle Boy,’ he said. ‘And your anxiety quadrant is highly active.’
‘Monty followed me to the library,’ whispered Napoleon.
‘We must inform the professor immediately,’ said Skin.
‘NO!’ said Napoleon. ‘She’ll pull me out of the mission. It’s okay. I gave Monty the slip!’
‘Please keep moving, BB005.’ Professor Perdu’s voice came over the speaker. ‘Battle Book 91 has entered Delta Phase. Prepare for entry without delay.’
Napoleon lifted down the titanium-iridium casket. It rumbled as if there was a small earthquake inside.
‘What are my gadgets today, Skin?’ he asked.
‘HoverVest, BootBoosters and Shield-Field, plus a fully charged NukeBelt for power needs.’
‘You also have an additional piece of equipment,’ added Professor Perdu. ‘A highly —’
A long, loud beeeeeeeep! suddenly raged through the Tome Tower.
Red lights flashed and security bells rang all over the Special Reading Room.
‘Code Three Alert!’ blared a mechanical voice.
‘Security door malfunction.
Intruder detected in entrance cubicle.
Heading for the main chamber.’
Napoleon rushed to the porthole of the Tome Tower.
‘OH NO!’ he yelled.
It couldn’t be.
But it was!
The intruder was Monty.
He was standing in the middle of the Main Chamber, looking aro
und wildly, flushed with fear.
‘Where’s my brother?’ he shouted at Professor Perdu. ‘What have you done with him?’
‘Ah, Montgomery, I presume?’ said the professor calmly. She smiled at him sweetly. ‘Napoleon has told me so much about you.’
‘I know he’s here. I saw him come in.’ Monty’s eyes darted around the main chamber. ‘What is this place, anyway? It’s freaky. I bet you’re an evil scientist, using Nappy for weird experiments. Tell me where he is!’
‘There is nothing to worry about. Napoleon is perfectly safe, I assure you.’
‘I don’t believe you. He’s been coming here for ages. Something’s going on. And I want to know what it is!’
Monty scanned the room until he saw Napoleon in the Tome Tower.
‘There you are!’ he shouted, rushing over. ‘Don’t worry, Nappy, I’ll save you.’
‘No,’ Professor Perdu said. ‘You must not go in there.’
But Monty had already ripped open the hatch into the Tome Tower and jumped through.
Inside the tower, he stopped and stared at Napoleon in his Stone Age clothes. ‘Seriously, Nappy. That is not a good look. And what’s that disgusting stink?’
‘It’s me but I can’t explain right now,’ stuttered Napoleon, standing in front of Battle Book 91. He could hear it rattling and rumbling. The book might burst open at any moment. ‘There isn’t time, Monty. You’ve got to go. At once! You shouldn’t be here.’
‘I’ve come to rescue you,’ said Monty, grabbing his arm. ‘I’m taking you home.’
Napoleon ripped his arm away. ‘No. You don’t know anything. And you’re only making things worse. You should never have followed me in the first place. Just go away, or else —’
A loud hissing interrupted Napoleon, and Professor Perdu’s voice boomed into the Tome Tower.
‘The Battle Book is about to explode. Release the catch at once, Battle Boy.’
Napoleon spun around. Book 91 was shaking and clattering, with greenish fumes oozing from it.
‘FIRE!’ yelled Monty. He pulled off his jumper to throw over the casket. ‘I’ll save you, Nappy.’
‘No!’ Napoleon hollered as loud as he could.
‘Keep away!’ screamed Professor Perdu.
But it was too late. Monty was already rushing at the casket.
Just as he reached it, the lid burst open and a shaft of iridescent green light shot up into the Tome Tower. Napoleon was thrown to the floor.
For a moment, Monty was frozen in astonishment – his eyes and mouth wide open.
Then, he vanished.
‘Monty!’ screamed Napoleon.
He scrambled to his feet and threw himself after his brother.
‘Where is he?’
Napoleon was searching for any sign of Monty as he rocketed back through time.
‘We are moving too fast to locate Montgomery,’ said Skin. ‘We are at HyperTime Speed; Chrono Mac 10.’
Images of history flickered below like scenes from a sped-up movie. Hundreds of years shot by in seconds. Modern cities changed to older ones beneath Napoleon’s eyes. They shrank into towns, to villages, and then into clusters of huts.
Soon there were no human settlements at all – only forests and plains, rivers and mountain ranges.
‘Approaching our Time Target,’ said Skin.
The GeoChron Locator beeped as the last two thousand years ticked by:
27,000 . . .
27,500 . . .
28,000 . . .
‘Destination locked in,’ Skin said, as it flashed up on Napoleon’s Battle Watch.
‘Where’s that?’ said Napoleon.
‘Northern Spain,’ said Skin. ‘The Ebro River Valley is a most famous Stone Age site.’
Napoleon stared below him. A wide river carved its way through hills and cliffs. Plumes of smoke drifted up into the sky from different spots around the valley.
‘Are they camp fires?’
‘Correct. This is a highly populated area with plenty of fish and game to be hunted. Both Neanderthals and Cro-Magnons live in this region.’
The cliffs were dotted with caves. There were people too, Napoleon realised – cave people, moving about.
But then in the next instant, the people became totally still. So did the river. The smoke from the camp fires hung in the air, motionless, bent by a breeze, but there was no breeze. An eagle hovered like a figure painted on a blue canvas.
‘I have manually activated Epsilon Phase,’ said Professor Perdu through the Battle Watch. ‘But I cannot delay the action for long. You’ll need to get your bearings as quickly as possible on landing, BB005. Of course, your presence will be noted at once by the cave people.’
‘But what about Monty?’ said Napoleon. ‘And where will we land? There’s just that big river and lots of rocks. And we’re coming in too fast.’
‘This is where we test my new landing gadget,’ said the professor excitedly.
‘Test?’ said Napoleon. ‘What’s wrong with the HoverVest and Boot Boosters?’
‘We’ll keep them for back-up, BB. Activate Landing Ball, Skin.’
Almost at once a bubble formed around Napoleon. It was blue, but clear enough to see through.
‘Landing Ball activated and in place,’ Skin reported.
Napoleon felt as if he was floating inside a big blue ball. ‘Hey, this is like being in the Timeless Zone, when I was with the Aztecs!’ he yelled.
‘Very astute, BB,’ said the professor. ‘In fact, that is exactly where I got the idea. It’s rather good, I think.’
‘Except that we’re still going way too fast. We’re going to crash!’
‘Please relax, BB005,’ said Skin. ‘Gyrostatic shock absorbers will minimise impact.’
Napoleon clenched his fists and shut his eyes tight as he hit the ground.
The Landing Ball bounced on impact – high at first, lower the next few times – then it rolled several metres and came to a stop. And all the time Napoleon stayed sitting upright, as if he was in an invisible seat.
‘Cool!’ he said as the bubble faded to leave him sitting on the ground at the edge of dense forest. ‘That was so smooth.’
‘Not bad,’ agreed the professor.
Napoleon stood and looked around. ‘Where do I start searching for Monty?’
‘You do not,’ said Skin.
‘What are you talking about, Skin? I have to find him. He’s my brother.’
‘Affirmative. But it is not possible at present.’
‘Why not?’
‘Because Kappa Phase will lock in at any moment, and when it does, you will be in great danger.’
Almost immediately the river began flowing, roaring as it rushed over the rocks. A fierce wind shook the trees. The eagle screeched.
But what sent shivers through Napoleon were the howls and the growls coming from the forest.
A mob of huge creatures – half-dog, half-cat – burst from the trees.
There wasn’t time to activate the HoverVest or ShieldField so Napoleon did the only thing he could –
run.
His heart was pounding in his chest. The leader of the pack was right behind. He could feel its savage breath on his neck.
Then, it pounced and Napoleon crashed to the ground, pinned by the snarling, slobbering beast.
The other animals circled Napoleon, waiting for their leader to strike at his prey.
‘Animal identified as a species of mountain hyena that once lived in Europe,’ said Skin. ‘Notice the unusually sharp teeth, made for ripping—’
‘No time for a biology lesson, Skin.’ Napoleon squirmed. ‘What do I do?’
‘Searching databanks for appropriate action,’ said Skin.
‘I wish I had the Helping Hand. I could zap it with the laser or stun it with the taser,’ said Napoleon.
He watched the hyena’s jaws opening wider and wider, its sharp teeth glistening.
But then a strange sound pierced the air. The beast stopp
ed growling. So did the others.
The sound was clear and pure. It drew closer, and the hyenas began to back away – as if in awe, or fear, of the sound. Even the boss hyena seemed mesmerised by the noise.
Napoleon turned around slowly. A young girl stood metres from him, dressed in a ragged fur. The beautiful sound came from her lips – part singing, part speech.
‘Subject is Neanderthal,’ said Skin. ‘Age approximately 12 years. She controls the hyenas with her own call of the wild.’
The girl beckoned to Napoleon. He stood up, and was about to speak but she silenced him, nodding towards the hyenas. He understood at once – they weren’t out of danger yet.
She led him away slowly, keeping her eyes on the hyenas while still singing.
When they couldn’t see the beasts any longer, she stopped and stared at him.
‘Thanks,’ Napoleon said. ‘You saved my life.’
The girl wrinkled her brow and cocked her head sideways.
‘Neanderthal language is very primitive,’ said Skin. ‘She does not understand you.’
But then the girl spoke. ‘Tunk’ she said, trying to imitate Napoleon. ‘Tunkoo.’
‘She understands okay, Skin.’ Napoleon grinned at her. ‘Tunkoo, tunkoo very much.’
The girl moved close to him. She touched his skin and pulled his hair, poked him all over, and then sniffed him. When she had finished, she stood back and nodded.
‘At least someone likes my stink,’ Napoleon said. He pointed to himself. ‘My name is Napoleon. NA- P O - L E - O N ,’ he sounded out slowly.
He pointed at the girl. ‘You? What’s your name?’
The girl wrinkled her brow, and then nodded. ‘Asha,’ she said, pointing to herself and smiling. ‘ASH-A,’ she sounded out slowly.
‘Please to meet you, Asha.’ Napoleon grabbed her hand and shook it.
‘Tunkoo, tunkoo vermuck,’ Asha replied, shaking his hand back.
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