Galaxy Patrol by Jean Ure Page A

this, or not?’ demanded Rosie.
    I turned to face her, wobbled, and toppled over the edge. Quickly, I activated my jet pack and buzzed back up. By now the corgis had finished eating and were sniffing the air and pricking their ears. They had got wind of us! I tore open my bubble pack and threw down the contents, scattering them as best I could across the room.
    â€˜Well?’ said Rosie.
    â€˜Thing is – ’ I hesitated.
    â€˜
What
?’
    â€˜How do we know she’s got a bug? How do we know it’s not just a plot?’
    â€˜Plot for what?’
    â€˜Plot to kill the Queen!’
    â€˜Oh. You mean, like … they’re using us as hit men?’ Rosie gave a triumphant snort. ‘I told you they were government agents! It’s obviously some kind of conspiracy.’
    â€˜What, our own government?’
    â€˜Yup.’ She nodded. ‘Our own government.’
    I didn’t understand. Why would our own government want to send hit men to get the Queen?
    Rosie looked at me, pityingly. ‘It’s what governments do.’
    â€˜But why?’ What had the Queen ever done to them?
    â€˜Who knows?’ said Rosie. ‘Only they have the answer to that.’
    I frowned. This conversation didn’t seem to be getting us anywhere – and the corgis were wolfing down dog biscuits as fast as they could go.
    â€˜I always knew there weren’t such things as aliens,’ said Rosie. ‘I always said it was all in your imagination. Let’s just tell them we’ve done what they wanted and get out.’
    â€˜But then they’ll discover we haven’t, and they’ll just beam us back up again and – ’ I couldn’t finish the sentence. I had these visions of being atomised and flung out, in a million pieces, into space.
    â€˜So what’s your solution?’ said Rosie.
    I hung my head. I didn’t have one.
    â€˜You know what?’ Her voice rose to a shriek. ‘This is a totally impossible situation and you’re the one that went and got us into it, watching that stupid sci-fi stuff!’
    â€˜I beg your pardon,’ I said, ‘
I
wasn’t the onethat drew attention to myself, climbing out the bedroom window.’
    â€˜They would never have taken
me
,’ said Rosie, ‘if it hadn’t been for
you
. So just go and do the job and let’s get out!’
    The corgis were gathering again, making little growls and snaps and jumping up at the wall.
    â€˜You’re asking me to zap the Queen,’ I said, horrified.
    â€˜Just a flesh wound,’ said Rosie. ‘That’s all it needs. Then we can tell them we tried and it didn’t work.’
    â€˜You do it,’ I said.
    â€˜No way! It’s your job.’
    We stood, glaring at each other.
    â€˜Go and see if she’s got a hole in her neck,’ said Rosie. ‘If there’s a hole, it’ll mean there’s a bug. Then you can zap her and it’ll be OK.’
    â€˜But suppose there isn’t?’
    â€˜Then you zap her anyway, like in the arm, or something. And then we get out!’
    I turned, fearfully, to look at the corgis. Then I looked across at the Queen. She’d finished picking her teeth. She slurped some more coffee, and yelled again at the corgis to shut up.I guessed she must spend a lot of her time yelling at the corgis. Maybe if I aimed at her
foot
… Being zapped in the foot wouldn’t kill her. It still seemed a terrible thing to do. Headlines flashed before my eyes: BOY BREAKS INTO PALACE. INTRUDER SHOOTS QUEEN IN THE FOOT . I couldn’t do it!
    And then the Queen stood up; and as I watched, goggle-eyed, she reached behind her with one hand and began vigorously scratching at her bottom. A sudden wave of relief rushed over me. It was true!
The Queen did have a bug
. She might pick her teeth in the privacy of her own palace; she might slurp her coffee and dunk her biscuits and yell at the