[Sarah Jane Adventures 02] - Revenge of the Slitheen

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[Sarah Jane Adventures 02] - Revenge of the Slitheen Page 1

by RUPERT LAIGHT




  BBC CHILDREN’S BOOKS Published by the Penguin Group

  Penguin Books Ltd, 80 Strand, London WC2R ORL, England

  Penguin Group (USA) Inc., 375 Hudson Street, New York, New York 10014, USA

  Penguin Group (Australia) Ltd, 250 Camberwell Road, Camberwell,Victoria, 3124,Australia

  (a division of Pearson Australia Group Pty Ltd)

  Canada, India, New Zealand, South Africa

  Published by BBC Children’s Books, 2007

  Text and design © Children’s Character Books, 2007

  109876543 2 I

  Sarah Jane Adventures © BBC 2007

  BBC logo ™ & BBC 1996. Licensed by BBC Worldwide Limited All rights reserved.

  ISBN 978-1-40590-398-1

  Revenge of

  the Slitheen

  Written by Rupert Laight

  Based, on the script by Gareth Roberts

  Table of Contents

  Face

  Copyright

  Title Page

  Epigraph

  Prologue

  Chapter One

  Chapter Two

  Chapter Three

  Chapter Four

  Chapter Five

  Chapter Six

  Chapter Seven

  Chapter Eight

  Chapter Nine

  Chapter Ten

  Chapter Eleven

  Chapter Twelve

  Chapter Thirteen

  Epilogue

  ‘I saw amazing things, out there

  in space. But there’s strangeness

  to be found wherever you turn.

  Life on Earth can be an

  adventure, too.

  You just have to know

  where to look.’

  SARAH JANE SMITH

  Prologue

  The premises comprise nine offices, three storage rooms and a large open-plan warehouse,’ explained Janine, the estate agent, as she showed an overweight man with a red face and greying hair round the dingy industrial unit. ‘What kind of business were you intending to use it for?’

  ‘Business?’ The man rubbed his leg as if he was in discomfort. ‘Oh, this and that. Y’know - construction, development.’ He paused, grinning. ‘World domination.’

  Not being the brightest of sparks, Janine wondered how to react. ‘Sorry?’ she managed.

  ‘Only having a laugh, my dear,’ said the man. But he wasn’t laughing.

  Janine was twenty-eight years old and out of shape. She was unhappy with her size and unhappy with her job. She’d never set out to be an estate agent, but it was the best money she could earn in the area, considering her lack of qualifications and experience.

  ‘Anyway,’ she continued, trying to change the subject, ‘the area offers excellent transport links, low council tax, and a large local workforce.’

  ‘That’s good, because I need to recruit a… um… very large workforce.’ The man gave a smug smile, as if enjoying a private joke.

  ‘Really?’Janine raised an eyebrow. ‘What kind of people are you planning to take on?’ She ventured, testing the water.

  The man considered for a moment. He looked her up and down. She was a hefty, lumpen thing wearing a faded grey trouser suit a size too small for her. But at least she’d be roomy. Yes, she’d do very nicely. ‘Is that a hint, my dear?’

  ‘Er, well, no, I was just…’ Janine trailed off, embarrassed.

  ‘I see,’ he mused, shifting awkwardly and stretching an arm. ‘You’d like to join us?’ He smiled that self-satisfied smile again. ‘Yes, maybe you could be of use.’

  ‘Really?’ Janine’s face lit up.

  You're just the right…’ the man searched for an appropriate word.

  ‘Kind of employee you’re looking for?’ offered Janine.

  ‘Just the right… siiiiiize!’

  And before Janine could ask what he meant, she was bathed in a shocking bright light that made her cover her eyes and turn her head away.

  The last thing she heard was a strange, gurgling voice, like the man’s, but somehow different, almost alien…

  ‘That’s right, my dear, you’re just the ticket. My sister needs a new body.’ The voice broke into a terrifying chortle. ‘The family’s back - and they’re hungry. Hungry for revenge!’

  Chapter One

  Food for thought

  Sunday evenings are always a drag, but this particular Sunday was a bigger drag than usual.

  Maria Jackson had to go to school in the morning. What’s more, it was the first day of term. And if things could get worse - which they always could - she was starting at a new school.

  Maria sighed and looked out of her bedroom window. It was raining. But through the sodden haze she could still make out Sarah Jane Smith’s house.

  Number thirteen Bannerman Road was different to the new, grey, two-storey house she lived in with her dad. It stood alone behind a high red-brick wall. It was large, Victorian and, if she didn’t know better, rather creepy-looking.

  Maria had only recently come to the area. Her parents had split up a year ago, and her mum had gone to live with her new fella. But she wasn’t complaining. She’dalways got on better with her dad. He understood her - as best as a dad could, anyway.

  She'd made a new friend, too. Sarah Jane may have been several times the age of her old mates, but she was a hundred times cooler. After all, no one else Maria knew was on first-name terms with creatures from outer space.

  Thinking back over the past few days, Maria smiled to herself. She'd had an amazing time. She'd met real-life aliens and foiled a plot to enslave humanity. So much better than hanging out at the shopping centre, or reading magazines about celebrities.

  But was that adventure to be just a one-off? Might the story be over now? Maria wanted more. It had whetted her appetite for the unexpected, the dangerous. She felt depressed to think alien bashing could be only a passing phase, like playing with dolls. Was all that weirdness really behind her?

  Maria needn’t have worried…

  Park Vale School was only a ten-minute walk from Bannerman Road, and Maria was early. She paused outside the gates to gather her thoughts before facing the barrage of new faces.

  As she leaned against the brickwork, a stylish, pale green car pulled up, the drivers door swung open, and out stepped Sarah Jane Smith.

  Luke slipped out from the passenger seat.

  Sarah lazily ran a hand through her shoulder-length auburn hair. She was slim and pretty, with a touch of real glamour that appealed to Maria. The clothes she wore were sophisticated yet somehow girly. Though middle-aged, she still had a mass of untapped energy. She clearly hadn’t finished with being young, even if it had finished with her.

  ‘You take care,’ she said to Luke, with an earnest smile.

  ‘Goodbye… Mum,’ he replied.

  ‘Mum? Don't think so. Sarah Jane’s just fine.’ Glancing around, she noticed Maria smiling over. ‘Hi, Maria.’

  Maria watched as Sarah Jane leaned over and planted a kiss on Luke’s cheek, then climbed back into the car and drove off. She always seemed to be in a hurry, as if she was permanently late for an appointment.

  A group of nearby boys started to laugh.

  ‘Why are they doing that?’ Luke asked Maria, confused.

  Luke had been born yesterday. Well, not yesterday exactly, but only a couple of months ago. And he hadn’t exactly been born either. He’d been built - like you build a computer - by an alien race called the Bane. But when they built him, even though they made him really brainy, they forgot to install any guidelines for being human. He didn’t have a clue how mere mortals behave.

 
‘First day and your mum’s kissing you goodbye,’ explained Maria.

  ‘Is that bad?’

  ‘Bit embarrassing.’ She paused. ‘And I got the feeling she wanted you to call her Mum.’

  Luke frowned. ‘She said she didn’t.’

  It's not what she said, more how she said it.’ But Luke didn’t get it.

  They headed through the school gates and into the playground. Looking up, Maria took in the grey and white Sixties building. Then her gaze was pulled to the left, where a squeaky-clean new block stood. It looked out of place, like it had been delivered to the wrong address.

  ‘That’s a bit flashy,’ she said.

  ‘It’s a brand new building,’ explained Luke. ‘There was an article about it in the newspaper.’

  ‘So what’s inside?’

  Luke shrugged.

  On a post in the playground a CCTV camera followed Maria and Luke as they headed in for assembly…

  ‘Not them. Scan along,’ said a gruff male voice.

  Luke and Maria were being watched on an oddly-shaped monitor. The camera slid past them and over groups of kids enjoying their final moments before the bell rang.

  ‘Where is he?’ demanded another voice, impatiently. This one sounded oddly sinister and distant.

  ‘There!’

  The image came to a sudden stop on Mr Jeffrey, a chubby science teacher in his mid-thirties, carrying a battered leather briefcase. He had a disappointed expression on his face, like his life hadn’t turned out the way he’d planned.

  ‘He’s not that big. How will I fit?’

  ‘He’ll do. Get yourself ready.’

  The gruff-voiced man beamed menacingly It was Mr Blakeman, the headmaster.

  ‘What can I do for you, Greg?’ asked Mr Jeffrey, nervously. He wondered what he’d done wrong so early in the term.

  ‘I need you to stand right there, Tim.’

  They had been walking down a corridor in the new block, Blakeman leading the way. The corridor ended with a blank, white wall. Blakeman moved his colleague around until his back was against it.

  ‘Any particular reason?’ enquired Mr Jeffrey.

  ‘Very particular.’

  And then the headmaster did something unusual. Phaaaaarzzzc! He let out a tremendous, wall-rattling fart. Not what you expect from a grown-up. More what little boys impress their mates with.

  Mr Jeffrey’s jaw dropped. ‘Happens to us all,’ he managed, more to fill the silence than to offer an explanation.

  Blakeman ignored him. ‘I’ll need that,’ he said, pointing at the science teacher’s briefcase.

  ‘Sorry?’ Mr Jeffrey was puzzled, but the head’s tone of authority made him loosen his grip, and the case was pulled from his hand.

  Behind him, the wall slid silently open. The headmaster smirked.

  A huge, green, three-fingered hand with long, glinting talons appeared in the opening and gently settled on Jeffrey’s unsuspecting shoulder. The teacher spun round.

  ‘Aaaaaaargh!’

  But his scream was cut short, as the claw’s grip tightened around his neck…

  On a bench in the school hall, Luke and Maria sat shyly glancing around at their new schoolmates.

  It was assembly, and the packed, airless room was filled with the hum of chatter. Teachers were seating themselves on the stage, doing teacher-ish things, like discussing the curriculum or drawing up lesson plans.

  ‘I’m feeling anxious.’ It was Luke’s first day at Park Vale, too.

  ‘So am I,’ said Maria.

  ‘But you’ve been to school before.’

  ‘Not this one.’

  ‘Does that matter?’ asked Luke, trying to understand.

  A boy bashed into Maria’s side. ‘Budge up!’ he demanded, and plonked himself down next to her. ‘You new today?’

  ‘Yep,’ said Maria, and introduced herself.

  ‘I’m Clyde,’ replied the boy, looking straight ahead. He was a tall, good-looking lad, with an easy, self-assured manner. ‘New, too. Probably hang round with you till I meet some cooler people.’

  ‘Charming!’ snorted Maria.

  ‘How do you do?’ Luke extended a hand. ‘I’m Luke Smith.’

  ‘That was a joke,’ said Clyde, ignoring the hand. ‘But now I mean it.’

  A hush had fallen over the hall and all eyes had turned forward. The headmaster had taken his position at the centre of the stage.

  He was a tall, overweight man, with thinning hair and a self-satisfied expression plastered across his face. He clearly enjoyed being a headmaster- it gave him power.

  ‘Good morning, everyone,’ he boomed.

  ‘Goooooodmoooorning,Miiiister Blaaakemaaan,’ the kids droned in unison.

  There was silence as Blakeman squirmed. He gripped hold of his backside and adjusted himself. It was as if his underwear was too tight. And then there was a gurgling, rumbling noise, like his stomach was seriously upset. Phaaaaarzzze! He emitted a thundering bottom burp.

  Stunned silence. Then the school dissolved into laughter.

  ‘What’s funny?’ demanded the head. ‘My wife made me cheese and bean tartlets last night.’ Then under his breath, ‘Another reason to despise Jamie Oliver.’

  Maria frowned. This never happened at her last school.

  ‘Right. Assembly. Ya-de-dah.’ Blakeman seemed bored. ‘Welcome back. It’s a new year. Hope you all do well. Erm…’ He paused, as if he was unsure what to say next. ‘Don’t run in the courtyard, don’t even think about wearing make-up, and study hard, because I guarantee that none of you are going to be pop stars.’

  ‘What’s his problem?’ whispered Clyde.

  Just then Mr Jeffrey climbed the steps of the stage. He too wriggled uncomfortably as he seated himself near the headmaster. Were everyone’s underpants irritating them this morning?

  ‘So, what else? Oh yeah…’ Blakeman smirked. What a bright future you’ve all got, children of the world… etcetera, etcetera,’ he added, in a sinister tone, and glanced at Jeffrey. ‘As you’ve seen, we’ve got a new technology block. I’m taking you over in groups for a look around at the amazing facilities. Starting with class 10B.’

  That was Luke and Clyde’s form.

  The foyer of the new block was as white as a hospital sheet, and as plain as the most minimal of modern buildings. It had no homeliness or comfort to it. It seemed as if it was there only to function, to exist, not to stimulate or inspire.

  Luke, Clyde and their classmates looked around them, not sure whether to be impressed or intimidated.

  ‘There are sixteen classrooms, three of which are dedicated computer rooms, fully equipped with broadband wireless Internet connections,’ informed the headmaster. ‘But anything untoward your adolescent minds might be drawn to on the Internet, I’ve locked out.’

  Blakeman continued his introductory talk as he moved out into a corridor, and the class followed him. Luke and Clyde shuffled along at the back.

  ‘I’ve signed up for the lunchtime Science Club,’ Luke announced, proud of himself. ‘First meeting’s tomorrow.’

  ‘Now I’m backing away,’ muttered Clyde.

  Luke didn’t get a chance to defend himself as, just then, Blakeman let out another noisy expulsion of wind. Form 10B fell about. This was getting to be a habit.

  ‘Shut up!’ he bellowed.

  ‘Why is farting funny?’ wondered Luke aloud.

  Clyde’s brow furrowed. ‘It just is.’

  ‘But it’s a normal process of the human bowel.’

  ‘Are you for real?’ asked Clyde, sarcastically. And then he sniffed the air. ‘Smells weird in here.’

  ‘Farts?’

  Clyde shook his head. ‘It’s… dunno… metal, electric.’

  ‘Like batteries,’ offered Luke, catching a whiff of the strange aroma in the new block.

  The boys stared at one another. What was it?

  Maria distractedly pushed her food around the plate. It was lunchtime and the canteen was packed. Clyde plo
nked himself on the seat next to her, and let his plate of shepherds pie clank down on to the table. ‘Can I sit here?’

  ‘Only if I’m not gonna shame you,’ replied Maria, haughtily.

  ‘Well, I either sit here with you, or sit there with that.’ He indicated the only other free seat, next to an overweight, nerdy boy a year or two younger than them.

  ‘What - there’s someone worse than me?’

  ‘Just,’ said Clyde. But he didn’t really mean it.

  ‘So where are you from?’ asked Maria. ‘Hounslow. My folks split up. I moved here with my mum.’

  ‘That’s like me. Only I moved with my dad.’ The pair smiled at one another. Then Clyde looked away. ‘How’s that for you?’ he asked, coolly. He had to maintain his public image.

  ‘Better than when they were rowing all the time.’

  Clyde nodded an agreement and went to put a forkful of food into his mouth. The fork froze in midair. He stared down at the shepherd’s pie. It was mottled with mould.

  ‘Look at that!’ he cried, horrified. What kind of slop are they serving here? Leftovers from last term or something?’ Clyde shoved the fork through his food. It was full of revolting green, blue and grey furry patches. Totally inedible.

  ‘Mr Blakeman!’ he called, attracting the head’s attention as he passed through the canteen.

  ‘What?’ snapped Blakeman.

  ‘Look at this.’ Clyde tipped the plate so he could see. ‘How am I supposed to eat that?’

  ‘Just pick out the bad bits,’ replied Blakeman airily, and he moved off, humming to himself. It was as if he didn’t care. Or he wasn’t surprised.

  ‘Huh!’ grunted Clyde. ‘That leaves me with one pea.’

  Maria was glad she’d chosen a salad. But then she looked closer. ‘Mine’s off too! It’s disgusting!’

  They stared at one another in disbelief.

  ‘What’s wrong with this place? It stinks of electric, the food’s rotten…’ Clyde trailed off. ‘There’s something really weird going on here.’

  Chapter Two

  Behind the secret door

  The school day was over. The last of the children were heading off home or hanging around the gates waiting for parents to pick them up, or just chatting with their mates.

 

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