“What?” said Jimmy, as Horace yelled. “What is it?”
Jimmy looked around. Everyone else was staring – but not at him. They were staring past him. Jimmy turned to look – and his mouth fell open too.
Above them, a vast black shadow was sweeping across the sky. It spread over the school field and across the playground – and it was coming straight for them! The sun disappeared and darkness fell as if the whole town had been swallowed up by a huge black cloud.
“Aliens!” whimpered Horace, stuffing his fingers in his mouth and sobbing.
Jimmy and Max looked nervously at each other.
Shaking and fumbling, Horace tried to start his roboscooter. “Start, Steve, start!” he stuttered. But Steve didn’t seem to be listening.
All the other boys ran.
“Come on!” yelled Max, as he raced towards the school building.
But Jimmy was looking up at the sky – and smiling.
Through the darkness he could just see the outline of a giant machine. But it wasn’t an alien craft. It had a huge gold letter L in a golden ring on the side of it, which could mean only one thing. It was Lord Ludwick Leadpipe’s airship.
Jimmy had seen it on the telly hundreds of times, hovering above the Robot Races.
“They’re dropping something!” squeaked Horace, jumping off Steve and running round in a small circle. “They’re dropping bombs on us!” he shrieked.
Jimmy looked up. A swarm of black dots was falling like rain from the airship and hurtling down towards them. “It’s not aliens,” said Jimmy, starting to laugh. “It’s Lord Lead—”
“They’re going to fall on me!” screamed Horace. He threw his hands over his head, ran behind Jimmy and cowered.
“Look!” Jimmy gasped. “They’re slowing down!”
He watched in amazement as the black dots seemed to fall in slow motion. One of them floated down in front of him and landed gently on the ground. It was like a shiny black snooker ball. The little orb started shaking – and then with a pop! it rose up on a pair of robotic legs.
His face frozen in terror, Horace peered over Jimmy’s shoulder, watching as the ball started walking towards them.
“Mmffgllggfff!” said Horace.
“What?” said Jimmy, wishing Horace would shut up and get off.
“Grsffla inflayunnn!”
“Eh?” said Jimmy, staring in amazement as a pair of robot arms popped out of the sides of the little marching black ball.
“I said,” shrieked Horace, “it’s an invasion! We’re under attack! Run!”
He kicked his roboscooter out of the way and ran, ducking and darting between the falling robots. But everywhere he ran, the black balls were cracking open and turning into little marching robots: legs first, then arms, then a head, and finally a voice.
“Gather round, gather round,” said the little robot in front of Jimmy. “News from Lord Leadpipe.”
Horace stopped running and turned around. “L-L-L-Leadpipe?” he stammered.
“Lord Ludwick Leadpipe is proud to announce a new season of Robot Races,” the machine continued.
“Wow!” said Jimmy.
“And for the first time ever,” it went on, “the Races will be just for children. If you’re under the age of sixteen, then you can enter the Robot Races Championship.”
With that, the little robot split in half, fired a shower of paper into the air, shrank back into a ball and rolled away to repeat the message somewhere else.
The great airship thundered into the distance as pieces of paper fluttered to the ground around Jimmy and Horace.
Jimmy reached out and grabbed one. “Look!” said Jimmy. “It’s a leaflet about the new Robot Races!” He read it out, his voice shaking with excitement. “I, Lord Leadpipe, am proud and delighted and honoured to announce this special season of Robot Races! A round of qualifying races will be held in every corner of the world, starting just two weeks from today. Only the six very fastest qualifiers will get through to compete in the Championship! So if you’ve got what it takes to win the most exciting race on Earth, and you’re aged under sixteen and have your own robot...”
Jimmy’s voice came to a croaky halt. Grandpa didn’t have enough money for a toy robot racer, let alone a real one. The bubbles of excitement in his stomach all suddenly popped and he was left with the feeling that he’d eaten a bucketful of cold custard.
“Gimme that!” said Horace, snatching the leaflet out of Jimmy’s hand. He read it quickly before pulling his phone out of his pocket and hitting a couple of buttons. Then he jammed the sleek device to his ear. “Dad? I need a robot. Lord Leadpipe has ... Oh, you’ve heard already. You’ve done what? Good. Bye.”
Horace grinned at Jimmy.
“My dad knows about the Races already. He works for Lord Leadpipe, you see. And he’s already been on the phone to NASA—”
“NASA?” asked Jimmy.
“Yes, NASA.” Horace sniggered. “The people who build the robo-spaceships. My dad said Leadpipe robots aren’t allowed in the competition, so he’s ordered NASA to build my robot. I mean, how do you expect me to win the Robot Races Championship if I don’t have the very best robo-technology that money can buy?” Horace’s grin stretched even further. “What a shame you have absolutely no chance of entering the races. If your grandpa can’t afford to buy you a decent pair of trainers, I don’t think he’ll be ordering a new robot from NASA!” Horace threw the leaflet in Jimmy’s face. “Never mind, Jimmy,” he added. “You’ll still be able to enjoy watching me on TV, winning the Races. You have got a TV, haven’t you?”
Jimmy didn’t reply. He was watching Lord Leadpipe’s airship sail away into the distance. He picked up the leaflet and looked at it one last time before crumpling it into a ball and stuffing it miserably into his pocket.