Robokid

By Kit Brewster

Robert hates school, so he sends a robot—Robokid—to school in his place and unwittingly helps to defend Earth from invasion by the Xargians. But the school bully, Barry, is in league with the Xargians who send him a robot battledroid to exterminate Robokid—and the entire population of Earth. Can Robokid defeat Battledroid? Can Robert save Earth from the Xargians?

• Language: English
• Publisher: Book Blitz
• Release date: Jun 1, 2024
• ISBN: 9798227430205

Kit Brewster

Christopher Brewster, or Kit, as he is known to his friends, has been writing stories since he was a young child. He rediscovered his passion for creative writing when, in 1984, he became an English teacher in a Rotherham school, where he enjoyed making up stories for his pupils. When one of them said, "We think your stories are even better than those in books. Why not write a book yourself, Sir?" He decided to send some of his stories to several publishers. One of them asked him to add some questions to a story so it could be used for educational purposes, and this led him to write a wide range of successful educational text books. He has since written for many other educational publishers including Cassell, Folens, Longman, and Scholastic, but recently has returned to his first love, which is creative writing, especially fiction and poetry. Kit Brewster is not the author's real name, but the nom de-plume he uses for his children's writing. He uses other pseudonyms for his adult fiction and historical writing. However, in keeping with his love of codes and puzzles, he has encoded his real name somewhere in this book.

Book preview

PLAN A

AT BATTLEFLEET HEADQUARTERS on planet Xarg (which, as you know, is the fifth planet of the star Xirius), Galactic Emperor Xenthor was chairing a meeting of battlefleet admirals. Item 1 on the agenda was Galactic Domination (because, though he used the title ‘emperor’ there was still a lot left to conquer).

Though not bad-looking to beings of his own kind, we would see Xenthor as a cross between a cockroach and a polar bear. A cockroach, because on the planet Xarg, intelligent beings evolved from insects; a polar bear, because a summer day in Xibiza (Xarg’s hottest holiday resort) never gets much above -50º Celsius and a thick coat of white fur had evolved to keep Xargians from freezing to death.

Admiral Xog, began Emperor Xenthor, we would like to hear your report on the conquest of the Hydran Sector.

He spoke in Xargian, of course, which sounds like water gurgling down a drain, and has a grammar which is 27 times more difficult than German. One unusual feature is that most proper nouns begins with an X sound. This sound is hard to describe, but it is like the choking sound you make just before you throw up. The best way for English speakers to pronounce it is to say it like a Z.

Xog bowed his head, then began his report: Your Imperial Highness, the conquest of the Hydra system is complete. Hydra 2 fell easily, using Plan A. Unfortunately, we had to use Plan D to conquer Hydra 4.

Admirals Xeatty and Xisher shook their heads in disapproval, as plan D was the most destructive, meaning that, when the battle was over, there was nothing but a tangle of blasted remains to occupy. They quickly got a hold of themselves, hoping that Lord Xenthor would not notice. Since Rear Admiral Xellicoe’s flagrocket had been vapourised by a Sagittarian battlecruiser, the post of rear admiral was vacant and they were vying for the position.

Emperor Xenthor ignored them and carried on with his interrogation of Admiral Xog.

Can you remind us how each plan works, Admiral?

The emperor’s request made Xog uneasy. He knew that Lord Xenthor knew how the plans worked and wanted him to repeat them for some reason (probably sinister) of his own.

Certainly, your Imperial Highness. As you know, it is Imperial policy to take over planets with the least possible loss of life on our side and the least possible destruction on their side, so that the planet is worth occupying as part of our plan for galactic domination. Plan A is to use psychological warfare to sap the population’s will power. When the process is complete, we can take over without any resistance.

And how did that work on Hydra 2?

We gave every adult member of the population a credit card with no spending limit and no monthly repayments.

It’s a wonder every planet in the galaxy doesn’t plead for us to attack with Plan A! joked the emperor.

There was a long pause while the admirals and the guards howled with laughter (not to laugh at one of the emperor’s jokes was a serious offence, punishable by five years in the Xirconium mines. Laughing particularly loudly could earn a reward of 50 galactic credits).

The results were better than we had hoped, continued Xog when the laughter had died away. Some of them flew south and spent every day sunbathing, some of them bought fancy cars and drove aimlessly up and down, most of them bought giant plasma screens and watched movies all day while binging on junk food. Within five years nobody would do any work – why should they when they could get everything they wanted with their credit cards? When we moved in, they had lost the will to fight back.

Lord Xenthor nodded in approval. Very good, a textbook case.

There was a pregnant silence, then he added: But what about Hydra 4?

Xog trembled slightly. He sensed that the emperor’s question had a nasty edge to it.

We tried Plans A, B and C and they all failed. In the end, we had to resort to Plan D.

Oh dear, deployment of the battlefleet!

Yes.

And the result?

Xog did not like the way this conversation was leading, so he decided to emphasise the positive.

Victory!

At what cost?

Xog hesitated. He realised now what the emperor was leading up to.

Three battlecruisers destroyed, fifteen damaged, 7,000 troopers dead, 10,000 injured, admitted Xog in a low voice.

And what was left of the planet?

A radioactive wasteland.

Why such a disaster? I thought Hydra 4 was a primitive civilisation.

But they had nuclear weapons...

The emperor rose, his tentacles waving angrily. Admiral Xog, he said sternly, are you aware that Admiral Xeatty conquered the whole Betelgeuse Sector with the loss of only one battlecruiser?

Admiral Xeatty beamed at the complement. He felt sure now that he would be the next rear admiral.

Yes, your Imperial Highness, said Xog, bowing his head.

Are you also aware that I am looking for a new Overseer for the Xirconium mines at Xenaby Main?

Yes, your Royal Highness, he replied, bowing his head still lower.

Well then, unless you make a better job of conquering the Sol system, that new overseer will be you!

Yes, your Royal Highness. Xog could bow no lower, for his mandible was now hard against his chest. He wished he could fall through the floor.

Now tell me, what is your plan?

Xog jumped at this chance to redeem himself. He had worked it out very carefully and was confident it could not fail.

I plan to target the third planet of the Sol system. The inhabitants call their planet ‘Earth’ and their star ‘Sun’ because it was not long ago that they thought there was only one sun in the whole universe!

They are indeed a primitive people! remarked Lord Xenthor.

Everybody laughed loudly.

Yes, your Royal Highness, but they recently invented nuclear weapons, so we must be careful.

"You must be careful," corrected Lord Xenthor.

Yes, your Royal Highness, said Xog, shuddering at the thought of the Xirconium mines. I am going to begin with Plan A. I have already identified a suitable family to use as a trial.

Tell me about this family.

Well, the father, Mr Trubb, is a postal worker...

Please explain.

When Earthlings wish to communicate, they make marks on a pieces of paper, and send it to other Earthlings. The postal worker carries the pieces of paper.

Even more primitive than I thought! scoffed Lord Xenthor.

They recently invented electronic mail, which is a good thing because we can intercept their lines of communication.

You were telling me about the family, Lord Xenthor reminded him.

Ah yes... Mr Trubb is a postal worker. Postal workers get up early and work very hard, but do not earn much money. He will be a good target for Plan A, though this time we will not use credit cards, we will use their lottery instead.

What is this... lottery?

It is a system by which many people, usually poor people, pay to make a few people rich, usually very rich. My research has shown that...

Very good, said Lord Xenthor, I don’t need to hear any more details of their backward civilisation. Plan A it is. Do it and do it well. I want to take over that planet as the green and blue paradise it is, not as a radioactive desert! You may go.

BEDLAM

AAARRRGGGHHH!!!

It was dad, rushing in through the front door waving his arms about like a windmill.

I thought you were at work, said Mum.

NNNoooooo!!!!!

He’s gone mad, said Robert, putting his homework in his bag.

We’re rrr.... choked dad, fighting for breath.

...really late? said mum, finishing his sentence. I know, the bus goes in five minutes.

No – rrr... Dad spluttered.

...ruined? suggested mum. Yes, we did spend too much last Christmas. Robert’s mountain bike cost...

NNNoooooo!!!! Dad’s face was as red as a beetroot about to blow up. Rrrr...

...rich? suggested Robert, hopefully.

Mmm...nnn...ggg...THAT’S IT! said dad almost bursting with relief. We’ve LUN THE WOTTERY!!!

Whattery? said mum.

I think what he is trying to say is, said Robert, turning pale, that we’ve WON THE LOTTERY!

There followed five minutes of bedlam. Robokid has not arrived on the scene yet, but his database would explain this as follows:

DATABASE SCAN: BEDLAM (CORRUPTION OF BETHLEHEM), POPULAR NAME FOR THE FIRST INSANE ASYLUM IN ENGLAND. THE WORD BEDLAM HAS ALSO COME TO MEAN ANY SCENE OF UPROAR AND CONFUSION.

When she could speak again, mum said, You are sure, aren’t you? I mean. you hear stories about people who think they’ve won the lottery, but they didn’t post the letter and things like that.

Well, listen to this, said Dad, taking out a letter.

Dear Mr Trubb,

I am pleased to inform you that your ticket in the EURO-WIDE MEGA-POT SUPER-DRAW (WITH BONUS) number 61219-5015-9197-8811-8891-3520-01 has won the double roll-over jackpot of €1,648,592. A cheque is enclosed.

Yours sincerely,

Ivor Lott

But what does it mean? said mum.

Is it French? said Robert, confused by the word ‘Euro’ and the use of Euros instead of pounds.

Dad shook his head, "I don’t know about that, but it is my lucky number, you know: my birthday, our wedding anniversary, Gran’s birthday and Rover’s birthday – and if that’s not good enough for you..."

Dad waved a cheque in the air.

Mum could hardly get the words out: How much is €1,648,592?

We did Euros at school, said Robert.

Well?

I’m not sure exactly, said Robert, screwing up his face as he struggled with the mental arithmetic. More than £1,000,000 anyway."

"Well, I’ll go to