Cows in Action 2

by Steve Cole

  “OK, Bo, stop the engine!” McMoo shouted.

  “Thank goodness for that.” Bo heaved her body out of the water. “I was getting cramp in my udder.” She came dripping over to where McMoo and Pat stood at the side of the barge, staring out at the traffic. “Hey!” she yelled to a man in the nearest boat. “Where’s everyone going?”

  “Great Tutankha-moo has a gift for us,” said the man excitedly. “It is a special drink he has brought from the gods – mu-mu juice!”

  “His messengers are spreading word throughout the kingdom,” said a man on a raft behind them. “Everyone must come to the palace and drink the mu-mu juice in the morning. He says it will change our lives for ever!”

  “But change them how?” McMoo wondered. “Mu-mu juice? I don’t like the sound of this one bit.”

  “I don’t like being stuck in a watery traffic jam,” Bo complained. “We’re sitting ducks.”

  “Did they actually have ducks in Egypt?” wondered Pat.

  “They do now,” McMoo yelled, pointing behind him. “DUCK!”

  Pat hit the deck and yelped as a spear went flying over his head. He looked up to find Medjay guards were swarming over the riverbank.

  “Tutankha-moo was right!” one guard shouted. “He knew his enemies would be travelling on the royal yacht.”

  “It is magic,” cried another.

  “More likely a communicator,” said the professor, grimly. “The ter-moo-nator must have been watching the palace – he saw us escape, called up Tutankha-moo and told him we were on our way.”

  “That rotten grass!” snarled Bo. Then her face softened. “Actually I could just do with a bit of grass right now.”

  “Hey!” shouted one of the Medjay.

  “Yes, hay would be nice too,” Bo agreed – then ducked again as a spear sailed over her head.

  “Come on, men,” said the Medjay leader. “These fools are trapped in the water with nowhere to run. Let’s wade in and catch them …”

  “What do we do now?” wailed Pat. “He’s right – we’re trapped!”

  Chapter Eight

  ESCAPE INTO DANGER

  McMoo, Pat and Bo squashed themselves flat against the deck of the royal yacht while the Medjay waded ever closer.

  “I’ve got an idea for a distraction,” whispered Pat. “I could jump overboard, duck beneath the water, then pull off my ringblender to stop it working.”

  McMoo considered this. “The Medjay would see a boy jump in and a bullock come out.” He smiled. “They would never dream it was the same person.”

  “And while they try to fish a ‘boy’ out of the Nile, the professor and I sneak away …” Bo whistled. “That’s clever, Pat. But you should let me do it.”

  “No. You’re a better fighter than me,” Pat reminded her. “You stay here and protect the professor. I’ll see if I can sneak back and find that mummy.”

  “While you’re gone, Bo and I will try to find out more about this mu-mu juice and the missing cows,” said McMoo. “Good luck!”

  Pat smiled bravely and took a deep breath. “Catch me if you can, Medjays!” he yelled, and leaped up into the air. He cleared the side of the yacht and hit the Nile with a super-huge splash.

  “Quick – now!” McMoo jumped up and grabbed Bo by the hoof.

  “But there’s nowhere to go!” she protested.

  “We’ll use the boats as stepping stones!” he cried.

  While the Medjay furiously searched the river for the young man they believed Pat to be, McMoo and Bo jumped from the side of the barge. They landed with a WHUMP in a small fishing boat. From there they hurled themselves into a nobleman’s barge before bouncing off into a little old man’s canoe. That nearly capsized, so they quickly hopped across onto a big old cargo ship carrying planks of wood.

  “Stop them, someone!” called the Medjay leader.

  Some burly bare-chested men rushed from the cabin of the cargo ship to get McMoo and Bo. Bo stopped one of them in his tracks with a kung-moo kick, but the other one swung a plank of wood at the professor. McMoo dodged aside so the plank broke in two on the floor – then butted the man so hard he went flying up into the ship’s rigging.

  “That bloke’s got invisible horns!” cried the burly man, tangled up in the ropes.

  “And a brain the size of a badger!” McMoo agreed cheerily. “How else could I dream up a plan like this?” He tossed half the broken plank to Little Bo. “Surf’s up!” So saying, he leaped overboard and splashed down into the water with the other half. Using it like a bodyboard, he started splashing away with all four hooves. “Paddle for your life, Bo!”

  Bo jumped in after him, and was soon steering a nimble path on her plank through the heavy river traffic, away from the furious Medjay. They kept going and only stopped for breath some way downriver. The kerfuffle hadn’t reached this far down the Nile, and luckily people had stopped pointing at them.

  “Phew,” said Bo, with a worn-out smile. “We made it!”

  “Let’s hope that Pat did too.” McMoo sighed. “Come on. Let’s see if we can get a closer look at that Pyramid of Giza – and the geezer who’s living there!”

  Further south, Pat pulled off his wet clothes and scrambled up the opposite bank of the Nile. The Medjay were too busy searching for a human bad-boy to notice a bright-eyed bullock leave the river.

  The ringblender was now tucked safely under Pat’s tongue, so he was no longer in disguise. However, since all the cattle in Egypt had gone missing, he knew he would stand out like a luminous cowpat in the dark. He had to find cover – and fast.

  Pat dashed through the lush farmland that lined the banks of the Nile. After a while he came to a low building where grain was being stored.

  I’ll just rest here for a few minutes, Pat thought. But as he lay down, the warm sun and the smell of grain made him feel drowsy. Worn out by his adventures, Pat dropped off to sleep.

  When he woke again, he almost exploded with shock.

  A ter-moo-nator was standing in front of him!

  “Hello, little bullock,” it said, with a sly smile. “Are you lost?”

  Pat gulped. Luckily the ter-moo-nator didn’t recognize him as a C.I.A. agent. It seemed to think he was just an ordinary, Egyptian cow.

  “Are you wondering where all the other cows have gone?” it went on, green eyes glowing.

  As a matter of fact, I am! thought Pat. He nodded hopefully.

  “Come with me.” The big grey bull led him to a small shed on the other side of the field. “Life is going to change a lot for cows in the next few weeks. The humans shall work for us, not the other way around! But first you must join all the others …”

  The shed was dusty and full of harvesting tools. The ter-moo-nator tugged on a sickle – and Pat gasped as part of the floor slid away to reveal a secret tunnel, stretching down into the depths of the earth.

  “Don’t be afraid,” said the ter-moonator. “There are tunnels like these leading from key fields all across the kingdom. I’ll tell you more along the way …”

  Pat blinked in disbelief. Without even trying, it looked like he was about to discover what the F.B.I. was up to.

  But would he ever see McMoo and Bo again to let them know?

  Cautiously, he followed the ter-moo-nator down into the steep tunnel. Once inside, the entrance slid shut behind him, closing with a clang.

  Pat knew there was no going back now …

  Chapter Nine

  A CHILLY WELCOME

  Professor McMoo and Bo were spying on the Great Pyramid from the top of a sandy cliff. Tutankha-moo stood proudly on a special platform, surrounded by crowds of Egyptians.

  “Tomorrow I will give you yummy mu-mu juice to drink, my people!” cried Tutankha-moo. “I shall even pour some in the Nile. Just a few drops will make the water taste sweeter than dew from heaven!”

  “What do you think will be in that stuff, Professor?” asked Bo. “Poison? Germs? Um … dew from heaven with added sugar?”

  “I
wish I knew,” said McMoo. “If only we could find out what’s really going on.” Then, suddenly, he clapped his hooves in delight. “Well, well, look down there, what perfect timing – it’s Sheba Um-Barmer!”

  “What’s perfect about it?” Bo squinted and saw the giant, wobbling shape of Sheba, far below in the backstreets of Giza, looking sneaky and dragging a big sack. “What’s she even doing all the way out here?”

  “Let’s find out!” cried McMoo, bounding off down the rocky path like a mad mountain goat with rubber hooves. Bo followed him all the way down to the bottom of the cliff. “I wonder which way she was headed.”

  The next second, McMoo had his answer – as Sheba shambled round the corner with her well-stuffed sack!

  “Grab her, Bo!” McMoo ordered.

  Bo somersaulted through the air with a war cry of “Mooooo!” Before Sheba could even shout out she was lying squashed to the ground with an udder in her face.

  “You again!” Sheba groaned.

  McMoo rummaged through her sack. “Well, well, what have we here? Looks like the mummy of Tutankhamen!”

  “It’s not,” Sheba protested. “It’s a parrot I’m having stuffed.”

  McMoo pointed to the man-sized bundle. “Quite a big parrot.”

  “I, er, overstuffed the beak a bit,” said Sheba lamely. Then she sighed. “Oh, all right then. It is the mummy of Tutankhamen. After you wrecked half my shop, I called up the ter-moo-nator and told him what happened. He knows you’re here and trying to stop him.”

  “I know he knows,” said McMoo.

  “And he knows that you know he knows,” said Sheba.

  Bo looked at the professor. “Did you know he knew that you knew he knew?”

  “No,” McMoo admitted. “Tell me, Sheba – once the ter-moo-nator knew that my team and I were on the scene, what did he do?”

  “He told me to bring the mummy to the Great Pyramid so that you wouldn’t find it again.” Tears welled up in her bulging eyes. “When he finds out I’ve failed, I’m for it. Oh, if only my husband, Ron, would come back from wherever he vanished to!”

  Bo’s face softened. “Do you really miss him?”

  “Of course I do.” Sheba blew her nose noisily on the sleeve of her dress. “Life isn’t the same since I haven’t been able to bully him all day and make his life a misery!”

  But the professor wasn’t listening. “So you’re on your way to the Great Pyramid, eh? Tutankha-moo’s base.” He grinned at Sheba. “With your help, perhaps Bo and I can sneak inside.”

  “OK,” said Sheba. “As long as we can take the mummy too.”

  Bo frowned. “You’ll really help us?”

  “Why not?” Sheba smirked. “If you go to that pyramid, you’ll be going to your doom. And I’ll be in the ter-moo-nator’s good books – delivering not just the mummy but two of his biggest enemies!”

  “We shall see,” said the professor calmly. “Come on, Sheba. We’ll stick to the backstreets …”

  They made their way cautiously towards the Great Pyramid. The main entrance was crawling with Medjay warriors in their distinctive red loincloths.

  Bo scowled. “How are we supposed to get in there?”

  “There’s a secret way in,” Sheba revealed. “The ter-moo-nator told me to use it so I didn’t attract attention. Those guards will be expecting me, but they’ll jump on you before you’re anywhere near!”

  “Don’t be so sure,” said McMoo, opening the sack. “Bo, get inside this thing and try not to squish the mummy. I’ll crawl in after you and Sheba can drag us all inside.”

  Sheba scowled. “Why should I?”

  “Because if the guards do find us in here, they will find Tutankhamen’s mummy too.” McMoo smiled. “Bo and I will very kindly explain how you were hiding it in your cupboard so every one would believe that Tutankha-moo was the real deal. And when they realize he’s a fake and that you’ve helped him to trick everybody, they might decide they want to stuff YOU.”

  Sheba grimaced. “Oh, all right. But don’t forget, the ter-moo-nator is inside that pyramid – he can sort you out all by himself.”

  “Just get dragging the sack, walrus-features,” said Bo rudely.

  Puffing, panting and cursing under her breath, Sheba managed to drag the huge bundle of bodies over to the secret entrance in the pyramid wall. The guards nodded to her in greeting. She knocked twice on a large brick and it slid open to allow them inside. No sooner had she dragged the sack through the secret door than it slammed shut.

  “Brrr,” said McMoo, shivering as he quickly climbed out of the sack into pitch blackness. “It’s cold in here.”

  “It’s freezing,” Bo complained, scrambling out after him and grabbing hold of Sheba before she could run away.

  “It’s dark too,” said Sheba. “I’ll just turn on the light switch.” Suddenly, lights snapped on all over the vast chamber.

  “Professor,” Bo gasped. “This pyramid is electric!”

  “And full of food,” McMoo realized, staring around. The chilly chamber was stuffed full of grass, hay, corn and fruits. Huge fans in the ceiling blew out cold air. “Someone’s turned this part of the pyramid into a solar-powered deepfreeze for cow snack supplies. They must be planning on staying for quite a while.”

  Then Bo gasped. “It’s not just a deepfreeze for food, Professor. It’s for cows too. Look!”

  She pointed to a big chamber next door. It was full of blocks of ice, like a giant ice-cube tray. In every block of ice, there was a cow.

  And there – standing frozen solid in the front row – was Pat!

  Chapter Ten

  UDDERLY HORRIBLE!

  “Pat!” gasped Bo. She let go of Sheba and ran to see. “Little bruv, what’s happened to you? Are you all right?”

  “He’s fine,” McMoo promised her, following the cables and wires that snaked from the deepfreeze to a bank of controls. “Bo, this is amazing! Pat and all these other cows aren’t just frozen solid. They have been put into suspended animation.”

  Bo blinked. “Put into suspenders and emotion?”

  “Suspended animation,” he repeated. It means they won’t age a day, no matter how long they stay hidden in here.

  Once they are defrosted they will wake up as fresh as the day they were frozen.” McMoo glared at Sheba. “Why are your bull bosses doing this?”

  Sheba shrugged. “I don’t know. But as long as they keep paying me with goodies from Tutankhamen’s tomb they can do what they like!”

  Bo scowled at her. “Can you get Pat out of this, Professor?”

  “Let’s see.” McMoo started pressing buttons with his hooves. There was a bleep, a bloop and a loud buzz. Then Pat’s block of ice started dripping with water. “Done it!” he cried.

  Bo pointed to the other blocks of ice, which were also starting to melt. “But it’s not just Pat you’re defrosting. It’s all of them!”

  “Ah,” said McMoo. “Well, no one’s perfect.” Suddenly, red flashing lights and screaming sirens went off, echoing madly around the chamber. He blushed. “Oh dear. The controls must have been alarmed.”

  “I’m alarmed!” cried Bo, covering her ears. “Let’s thaw out Pat and get out of here!”

  “Stuff your brother,” Sheba squawked. “And I would too, if I had my way. But there will be no escape for you now …” She lumbered over to block the secret doorway. “Hee hee, you will never get past me. I’m just too good!”

  “Pride comes before a fall,” the professor noted – just as Sheba slipped in a puddle of melting ice and crashed headfirst to the floor, knocking herself out. “But not very long before a fall,” he added.

  Sheba’s fall sent shockwaves through the whole pyramid – enough to split Pat’s block of ice wide open!

  “Pat!” yelled Bo as he stood there stiffly like a bullock-flavoured ice pop. “Are you OK? How did you even get here?”

  “Special underground tunnel,” Pat said sleepily over the din of the siren. “F.B.I. built loads of them …”
He yawned. “That’s a loud alarm clock. Is it time to get up?”

  “It’s time to get out,” said McMoo. He jammed his horns into the workings of the alarm and pulled out some wires. The siren spluttered into silence. “Done it!”

  “Too late,” said Bo. “Look!”

  A big white bull had come into the chamber – an F.B.I. agent. He was carrying a huge gun. “Halt,” he cried. “Do not move!”

  “Yeah, like that’s going to happen,” said Bo. She grabbed a hefty chunk of Pat’s giant ice cube and slid it across the stone floor towards the bull like a giant bowling ball. It knocked him flying.

  “You’ve bowled him over, Bo!” said McMoo happily.

  “Professor,” gasped Pat, starting to recover. “Everyone in Egypt is in terrible danger! The ter-moo-nator told me that all cows had to go to sleep for months – and that when we woke up again, we would rule over humans!”

  “But how?” Bo wondered.

  “That’s what I must find out,” said McMoo, straightening up. “Bo, other F.B.I. agents may come looking here. Can you hold them off while I try to find the F.B.I. control centre?”

  Bo nodded. “Piece of cake. With a cherry on top. And whipped cream. And sprinkles, and—”

  “Thanks, Bo,” he said hastily.

  “In the meantime, look after Pat and these other poor cows waking up from suspended animation. They will be very confused and need someone to lead them. Oh, and take care of that mummy in the sack – remember, it’s priceless!”

  Bo nodded. McMoo grinned. Then he sprinted past Sheba and the fallen agent and into the chambers beyond.

  It was cold, dark and eerie in the pyramid. The only light came from the occasional flickering torch fixed to the walls. He ran along a tunnel that seemed to go on for ever. Then he heard voices coming from the hall ahead, and the quiet hum of machines.