The Shrinking Race by H. Badger Page A

school’s shelter sheds. They were silver waterproof pods at the back of the school.
    He scanned the shelter sheds for Jett’s Junior Flyer. It was Kip’s old one. Kip had given it to Jett when he became a Space Scout. A Junior Flyer just didn’t compare to piloting MoNa 4000.

    WorldCorp Junior Flyer
    Hope he doesn’t mind if I borrow it back! Kip thought, jumping on.
    Junior Flyers had two wheels and a carbon-fibre frame. The helicopter blades behind the seat were pedal-powered.
    Kip started pedalling like crazy. He had to get to the Hoverport quickly. Plus, it’d ruin his Space Scout image if anyone saw him on a Junior Flyer!
    Blades whirring, the Junior Flyer rose from the ground. Kip leant hard to the left and swooped out of the shelter shed.
    Outside, the sky was full of Nannybots flying their SnapDragons. SnapDragons were bigger than Junior Flyers, but only slightly cooler.
    Kip flew higher, dodging the traffic with skill. The wind was picking up. It nearly blew him straight into a Nannybot!
    He was panting so hard that his helmet fogged up. Luckily, Kip was ultra-fit. To make it as a Space Scout, he had to be.
    At last, the Hoverport loomed up ahead. The Hoverport looked like a multi-storey carpark hovering in mid-air. Starships of all shapes and sizes were docked there. Most were small spacecraft that didn’t fly further than Neptune’s icy asteroid belt.
    Only bigger starships like MoNa could explore deep space beyond the Milky Way. MoNa was a glossy black starship with curved thrusters and glowing lights underneath.
    Arriving at the Hoverport on a Junior Flyer , Kip cringed. MoNa will never let me live this down!
    MoNa thought Kip was too young to be a Space Scout. After all, at 12, he was the youngest of the 50 Space Scouts. And MoNa loved teasing him.
    Kip took a sharp left and pulled up outside MoNa’s landing bay. He tapped the Communicate button on his SpaceCuff. ‘Kip Kirby to MoNa 4000,’ he puffed. ‘Lower the landing bay door.’
    â€˜Is that you, Kip?’ laughed MoNa’s computerised voice. ‘I thought it was the ePaper Boy. Must be that Junior Flyer you’re on.’
    â€˜Very funny, MoNa,’ Kip muttered as the landing bay door lowered.
    Kip zoomed into the landing bay and screeched to a stop. The landing bay was a huge, empty grey space on MoNa’s lowest level. He pulled off his helmet and wiped his sweaty face with his spacesuit sleeve.
    The main landing bay door closed with a sucking, hissing noise. At the other end, an airlock opened. Kip’s second-in-command Finbar stepped through.
    Finbar was part-human, part-arctic wolf. He walked on his hind legs and stood two metres tall. Finbar was an Animaul, a creature that’d been specially cross-bred to protect Earth in case aliens invaded.

    â€˜What’s up, Fin?’ asked Kip. ‘Er, are you OK?’
    Normally, Finbar’s fur was soft and pure white. But today he looked all sweaty and grubby. ‘WorldCorp installed a MagnaSweep,’ Finbar replied. ‘I’ve been run off my paws guarding it.’
    When not on missions, Finbar lived on MoNa and kept her safe. But playing guard-wolf wasn’t his favourite part of the job.
    Finbar became Kip’s second-in-command (or 2iC for short) after failing Animaul training for being too gentle. His intelligence made him an awesome 2iC, even if he wasn’t as brave as Kip. Plus, he had a wolf’s super vision and hearing.
    â€˜The MagnaSweep’s magnetic field is impressive,’ Finbar continued eagerly. ‘It sweeps space debris for metal and clears it before it can get stuck in MoNa’s thrusters.’
    â€˜Enough chit-chat,’ MoNa cut in crisply. She heard everything Kip and Finbar said.
    â€˜She’s been grumpy since we heard the rumour,’ Finbar whispered in Kip’s ear.
    â€˜What rumour?’ Kip asked. The Space Scout intranet constantly buzzed with