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    Galaxy Patrol
    Galaxy Patrol
    Galaxy Patrol
    Ebook73 pages54 minutes

    Galaxy Patrol

    By Jean Ure

    ()

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    About this ebook

    Jake is a sci-fi buff, so when he's abducted by aliens he's delighted.
    But when he realises that his younger sister has also been taken, he's
    not so pleased. What do they want with her?
    They find themselves on a space ship manned by aliens from a
    confederation of planets. They form part of a Galaxy Patrol team,
    ceaselessly patrolling the galaxy to check on alien incursions into
    less advanced worlds, such as Earth. They recruit children as local
    agents to help them in their work. Children believe: adults don't. Now
    Jake and Rosie's first mission is to rescue the Queen, who has been
    taken over by an alien bug ...
    LanguageEnglish
    PublisherBloomsbury Publishing
    Release dateNov 7, 2011
    ISBN9781408156506
    Galaxy Patrol
    Author

    Jean Ure

    Jean Ure was born in Surrey and, when growing up, knew that she was going to be a writer or a ballet dancer. She began writing when she was six years old and had her first book published while she was still at school. Jean is a vegan and animal lover. She lives with her husband, seven dogs and four cats in a 300 year old house in Croydon.

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      Book preview

      Galaxy Patrol - Jean Ure

      GALAXY PATROL

      Jean Ure

      Illustrated by Mark Oliver

      Contents

      Chapter One

      Chapter Two

      Chapter Three

      Chapter Four

      Chapter Five

      Chapter Six

      Chapter Seven

      Chapter Eight

      Chapter Nine

      Chapter Ten

      James and the Alien Experiment Sally Prue

      Time and Again Rob Childs

      Chapter One

      Last summer, I was abducted by aliens. One minute I was sitting there, in front of the television: the next minute, I’d vanished. I mean it! Completely vanished. My brain was still whizzing about, but the rest of me had gone.

      The question was, gone where? I felt like I’d been scrambled. Scattered, in a million pieces. But I could see bits of what looked like body – my body – floating past me. A finger, a toe. A nose. My nose! My knee. The one with the scar, where I’d come off my bike. My arm, still in its green sweater. An eyeball. What was going on here?

      And then it hit me… I was caught in a transporter beam!

      I’d been watching one of Dad’s old Star Treks when it happened. Captain Kirk had just told Scotty to beam him up – when I got beamed up.

      My sister had been there, supposedly doing her homework. She wasn’t meant to be there, she was meant to be up in her room. As Mum always says, ‘How can you concentrate when the television is turned on?’ The truth is, she can’t. I can, ’cos I have extra powers of concentration. If I was doing my homework and the television was on, I would simply blot it out. Rosie, on the other hand, has no powers of concentration. I sometimes think her mind is full of ping-pong balls, all bobbing up and down. And, unlike the television, her voice is practically impossible to blot out.

      Every few seconds it was, ‘I don’t know how you can watch this stuff. Honestly, it’s so stupid! Little green men? Death rays? Oh, please!’ And then she would go, ‘You! Jake!’ and prod me in the ribs with one of her bony fingers. ‘You listening? I said it’s stupid! Stupid boy stuff.’

      She can pack a whole load of scorn into her voice, can Rosie. Just because she’d rather watch stupid girl stuff. All pink and shrieky. I pointed out that so far not a single little green man had appeared, but she just did this impatient clicking thing with her tongue and said, ‘Aliens, then! It’s all the same. They don’t have to be green … it’s still stupid.’

      ‘For all you know,’ I told her, ‘aliens could be all around us.’

      ‘Oh, yeah?’ She made a scoffing sound. ‘Haven’t seen much evidence of it.’

      ‘There,’ I said. I pointed. ‘On the screen… What’s that? You don’t think they just pluck these things out of nowhere?’

      She looked at me, like, un-be-lievable.

      ‘It’s a story,’ she said. ‘It’s made up. Dumbo!’

      I was prepared to agree that the actual storyline was made up. ‘But all the other stuff,’ I said. ‘Spaceships, for instance. Spaceships exist!’

      She looked at me again. This time it was more like, pathetic.

      ‘Well, they do,’ I said. I know about these things; I’ve done research. ‘Those people that have seen flying saucers … they can’t all be imagining it. And warp drive! Bending space. Everyone knows that’s possible – well, in theory. We just haven’t quite got there yet. But that’s not to say that other life forms haven’t!’

      ‘Yeah yeah yeah,’ said Rosie, going back to her laptop. ‘Just button it, I’ve got homework to do.’

      She clicked furiously for a bit, giving me a few minutes peace and quiet; but, like I say, she has no powers of concentration. I don’t think girls do. Not most of them. That’s why they can manage about a hundred things all at once. My powers of concentration are so great that I can only do one thing at a time. And right then I was trying to watch Star Trek. Dad has boxes and boxes of the DVDs. I know them all practically by heart, but it is still very irritating to be constantly interrupted by ignorant remarks. Or, in this case, a sudden shriek of laughter.

      ‘What is that supposed to be?’

      I gritted my teeth. ‘That,’ I said, ‘is a creature from another planet. Otherwise known as

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