“Impossible,” T-1901 scowled.
“If you think that’s impossible, try this!” came a foghorn moo from above that only bovine ears could understand. “I’m not your Ultra-Cow – I’m Not-So-Little Bo Vine in a muddy disguise!”
Sir Lawrence peeped out from behind one of her ears. “My gardens will never be the same after this giant cow rolled in the flower beds – but it was worth it!”
Dicky Hart peered around the other ear. “We took water from the fountains to make the soil nice and sticky then patted it all over her to trick you!”
“And thank goodness we were in time,” Prince Albert declared, looking out from under Bo’s big top lip.
“My love!” cried Victoria. “Albert, is it truly you?”
“It’s him all right, Your Majesty!” Seymour Bushes pushed out of Bo’s left nostril. “Now, let’s all clobber that mechanical man-bull in the name of the Queen.”
“Hurrah!” cheered the ten kidnapped botanists, who’d been hanging onto Bo’s enormous tail all the time. In a ragged scramble, the reunited Green Thumb Club members jumped down to the glass roof of the palace, ducked through the broken panes and started climbing down the tree.
“No!” T-1901’s chest furnace sizzled red with rage. “I shall still triumph.” He pulled another ray gun from inside his iron hip and pointed it at the queen. “Prepare for ter-moo-nation!”
But just then, both Eliza’s cases burst open – to reveal Pat in one and Professor McMoo in the other!
T-1901 staggered back in shock.
“You don’t look pleased to see us,” Pat noted. “Perhaps you’d prefer to see this!” He jammed the Black Cow projection brooch into the ter-moo-nator’s nostril and switched it on. T-1901 went cross-eyed as the image of the ghost started swirling inside his cast-iron head!
McMoo knocked the gun from the ter-moo-nator’s grip. “And since I doubt you’re pleased to hear us either, perhaps you’d prefer this little tune.” He grabbed the crown from the speechless Queen Victoria and stuck a screwdriver into the secret signalling device. “If I can just change the frequency so it only affects computerized lugholes . . .”
“Arrrgh!” T-1901 clapped his hooves over his ears so hard he put dents in them! “Signal too loud . . . Cannot bear . . .”
Prince Albert and the grimy botanists, like a gang of tatty Tarzans, reached the bottom of the tree and raced towards the ter-moo-nator. “Let’s get him!” cried Dicky.
“He can’t stop us all,” agreed Sir Lawrence.
Pat grinned. “Right now, I don’t think he can stop any of us!”
“Mission abort,” groaned T-1901 pulling a portable time machine from his brick-red backside. “Abort . . .” He vanished in a cloud of black smoke before the botanists could reach him.
“We scared him off!” Seymour declared, as Prince Albert ran into the queen’s arms. An enormous “ahhh” and a big cheer went up from the baffled, bewildered but now delighted crowd.
Pat turned to McMoo. “I’m glad we won – but won’t we have changed history by making this big entrance?”
McMoo pointed outside – big Bo had vanished. “Albert fed her the antidote when we got here – so she’s turned back to normal now.”
“But she walked for miles across London,” Pat persisted. “Everyone saw her.”
“This simply will not do,” Victoria declared. “All this fuss and nonsense will overshadow my poor dear Albert’s exhibition . . .” She cleared her throat noisily until the crowds fell silent. “Ladies and gentlemen, I am sorry for the curious incidents you have just witnessed. They were part of a fanciful prank played by Britain’s enemies intended to spoil this Great Exhibition. But let us now show our enemies they have failed, by all agreeing never to breathe a single word of what has happened here today.” She paused. “And kindly bear in mind, anyone who does will be transported to Australia for twenty years.”
“Er, what has happened here, Your Majesty?” cried a nervous lord quickly. “I saw nothing.”
“Nor I!” cried another, and another. “Nor I!” The chorus spread through the thronging British crowds.
“So without further ado, I declare this greatest of Great Exhibitions OPEN!” Queen Victoria declared to a flourish of trumpets and rousing cheers that shook the entire palace.
Sir Lawrence threw his arms around Seymour and clapped him heartily on the back. The botanists skipped about the oak tree.
Dicky Hart grabbed Eliza and danced a jig. “The old ticker beats more strongly when I’m next to you,” he confessed. “Eliza, will you marry me?”
“Oh, yes!” she whooped. “And my naughty sister shall become our housekeeper.”
“Once she’s cleared up the damage to Sir Lawrence’s gardens, of course,” Dicky agreed.
The queen waved happily at the jubilant crowds. “This is truly the most glorious day of our lives!”
“Job done,” McMoo hissed in Pat’s ear. “I think it’s time we slipped quietly away to the present . . .”
* * *
Bo was waiting for Pat and the professor by the Time Shed. The crowds were too busy celebrating, singing and carefully not talking about giant heifers to notice a normal-sized cow in their midst.
“Well, the F.B.I. lab at Sir Larry’s has been destroyed, the ter-moo-nator’s defeated, history’s back on track and the Great Exhibition’s an instant success.” McMoo puffed out a big breath. “I’d say we’ve earned ourselves a breather back on the farm.”
“But when Bessie Barmer finishes the big Victorian extension to the farmhouse she’ll be able to watch us all the time,” Pat realized glumly.
“It’ll be horrid,” Bo agreed, following them into the shed.
“Cheer up!” McMoo pulled a big red lever and energy fizzed and frothed through the Time Shed’s engines. “Things have a way of working out for the best . . .”
The shed arrived back on the farm a split second after it had left. Bo opened the door and saw Bessie staggering towards the half-built tower with a huge bundle of tools in her arms.
“The old ratbag should watch where she’s going,” Pat muttered.
“She should,” McMoo agreed, “but I hope she doesn’t – because she’s heading straight for . . .”
“Argh!” Bessie yelled as she suddenly sank into something grey and sludgy.
“Wet cement!” She tried to get out, but the tools were weighing her down. “Help!” Dropping the tools into the sticky gloop, she strained to free one leg – but slipped over on her giant bottom and crashed into the scaffolding. “Oh, no!” she wailed as the whole tower collapsed beside her in an explosion of brick-dust and concrete.
Bo stifled a giggle. “It’s such a shame we’re stupid, ordinary cows, isn’t it? Otherwise we could help.”
Pat nodded. “What a shame!”
“Told you things would work out.” McMoo grinned as he rushed to switch the kettle on. “Now, let’s quickly report in to Yak, then follow the example of our Victorian friends and brew up for a right royal C.I.A. celebration.”
Pat fetched the mugs. “With you around, Professor, they should call it the Tea-I-A!”
“Or how about the Tea-In-Hay?” Bo suggested.
“We are NOT a-moo-sed,” said McMoo firmly – and then he laughed. “All right, then, yes we are. And with all of history to romp about in, we always will be – wherever and whenever we end up next!”
THE END
About the Author
Born in 1971, Steve Cole spent a happy childhood in rural Bedfordshire being loud and aspiring to amuse. He liked books, and so went to the University of East Anglia to read more of them. Later on he started writing them too, with titles ranging from pre-school poetry to Young Adult thrillers (with more TV and film tie-ins than he cares to admit to along the way). In other careers he has been the editor of Noddy magazine, and an editor of fiction and nonfiction book titles for various publishers. He is the author of the hugely successful Astrosaurs, Cows in Action, Astrosaurs Academy and Slime
Squad series.
Also by Steve Cole:
[ASTROSAURS]
Riddle of the Raptors
The Hatching Horrow
The Seas of Doom
The Mind-Swap Menace
The Skies of Fear
The Space Ghosts
Day of the Dino-Droids
The Terror-Bird Trap
The Planet of Peril
The Star Pirates
The Claws of Christmas
The Sun-Snatchers
Revenge of the Fang
The Carnivore Curse
The Dreams of Dread
The Robot Raiders
The Twist of Time
The Sabre-Tooth Secret
The Forest of Evil
Earth Attack!
The T-Rex Invasion
The Castle of Frankensaur
[ASTROSAURS ACADEMY]
Destination: Danger!
Contest Carnage!
Terror Underground!
Jungle Horror!
Deadly Drama!
Christmas Crisis!
Volcano Invaders!
Space Kidnap!
[COWS IN ACTION]
The Ter-Moo-nators
The Moo-my’s Curse
The Roman Moo-stery
The Wild West Moo-nster
World War Moo
The Battle for Christmoos
The Pirate Moo-tiny
The Moogic of Merlin
The Victorian Moo-ders
The Moo-lympic Games
First Cows on the Mooon
The Viking Emoo-gency
The Udderly Moo-vellous C.I.A. Joke Book
[SLIME SQUAD]
Slime Squad Vs The Fearsome Fists
Slime Squad Vs The Toxic Teeth
Slime Squad Vs The Cyber Poos
Slime Squad Vs The Killer Socks
Slime Squad Vs The Last Chance Chicken
Slime Squad Vs The Alligator Army
Slime Squad Vs The Conquering Conks
For older readers:
Z. Rex
Z. Raptor
Z. Apocalypse
THE VICTORIAN MOO-DERS
AN RHCP DIGITAL EBOOK 978 1 448 17483 6
Published in Great Britain by RHCP Digital,
an imprint of Random House Children’s Publishers UK
A Random House Group Company
This ebook edition published 2013
Text copyright © Steve Cole, 2010
Cover illustration © Andy Parker, 2010
Interior illustrations copyright © Woody Fox, 2010
First Published in Great Britain
Red Fox 9781862308831, 2010
The right of Steve Cole to be identified as the author of this work has been asserted in accordance with the Copyright, Designs and Patents Act 1988.
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