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Hawkwood Books - Ellis Delmonte

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100 pages

English

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Description

Young Oliver Togg is selected to represent Earth in the 5000th Galactic Olympic Games. As Earth is being invited for the first time, a good impression is essential. Only if Oliver does well will Earth be allowed to join the Galactic Community, but Oliver is shy and not very sporty. How will he perform? Star Games is a funny, thoughtful and exciting story for children aged 9 and over."All the sporting events were great, like using a laser instead of a pole, and so were the descriptions of the planets" Maxim, aged 10"4 stars out of 5", Waterstone's Young Readers

Informations

Publié par	Hawkwood Books
Date de parution	10 août 2011
Nombre de lectures	0
EAN13	9781908577061
Langue	English
Poids de l'ouvrage	3 Mo

Informations légales : prix de location à la page 0,0000€. Cette information est donnée uniquement à titre indicatif conformément à la législation en vigueur.

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Table of Contents
Title, Credits, Dedication
1 Invitation
2 The Draw
3 Oliver Togg
4 The Opening Ceremony
5 Sprint
6 Long Jump
7 Shot Put
8 High Jump
9 Quarter Stad
10 Fast Hurdles
11 Discus
12 Pole Vault
13 Javelin
14 The Stad
15 Closing Ceremony
Star Games

Ellis J. Delmonte

What makes a true hero? Is it the strongest, the fastest, the one who throws furthest or the one who jumps highest? When Oliver Togg is surprisingly selected to represent Earth for the very first time in the even more surprising Galactic Games, he is none of these and he knows it. In fact, he has nothing of value anyone on Earth seems to understand, yet he has everything the weird and wonderful communities of the galaxy are looking for. What’s special about Oliver, and if you find out, will you cheer him on?

Suitable for ages 9 and above.

Text copyright©2006 Ellis J. Delmonte
Cover©Emma McClelland
2012 Cover©Felix Leone (This edition)

Epub Revised Edition 2013
ISBN: 978-1-908577-06-1

Original Print Edition ISBN: 978-0-9555096-0-5
Star Games 2012 Print Edition: ISBN:978-1-908577-06-1

The rights of the author have been asserted
All rights reserved

Conditions of Sale

No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted by any means without the permission of the publisher.

Hawkwood Books 2013

For O and L

What they’ve said about Star Games…
I’m really not as bad as all that. Grossly unfair! Primrose Morgan
Business is business. What did they expect. Cyrus Craven
They asked me to talk about schools and I did. Mr. Stoker (Headmaster)
I knew about the glue, of course. Just played along with the little scallywags. Foreign Secretary
I’m still not sure about them. Shana Junuplex
Oliver, I will write to you most soon. Jez
1Invitation
The message arrived simultaneously on something like ten thousand computer screens :

The 5000th Junior Galactic Games
Will open at 11 p.m.
Greenwich, Earth, Mean Time
Saturday June 2nd.
On the Millennium Stadium, Rigel Four.
Earth is cordially invited
For the first time ever
To enter one 12 year old child
In the Blue Ribbon Event,
The Stellar Decathlon.
Names to be ready for the winner’s draw
On said date at 8 p.m.
Please read attachment for details.
Reply to sender
Your gracious host
Olympius Betelgeuse III

All the screens were on the desks of each and every Head Teacher in the United Kingdom and each Head Teacher did the same thing - they deleted the file. Everyone knew a hoax when they saw one and this was a hoax. The “5000th Galactic Games” indeed! Millennium Stadium on Rigel Four! Stellar Decathlon! Come on! Open the attachment? You must be joking.
Ten seconds after deleting the file, it returned, in nice bright colours, with the added message :

This is no hoax.
OB III

Ten seconds after deleting the second file, along came a third,

What will it take to persuade you?
This message is definitely Virus Free!
Have faith.
OB III

Some Heads deleted this file, too, and then carried on deleting, but the file kept returning. They phoned their various systems experts who were baffled. No matter what they did, the file evaded their security measures. And when they tried to trace it, no trace could be made, at least on Earth.
The e-mail made the local news, then the national news, then the international news. It also made the galactic news, but no one on Earth had FTL (Faster Than Light) Television so they didn’t know. Out there, on the many other inhabited planets, everyone had a good laugh. Back on Earth, even the most computer literate minds couldn’t solve the problem. The odd thing was that, if it is was a bug-infested e-mail, it only hit the schools of England and only the computers of Head Teachers. No one else received it. It was therefore an extremely selective and clever bug-infested e-mail.
No one, of course, believed it to be real.
That was until the evening of the next day when Olympius Betelgeuse III arrived to speak with the Prime Minister. After that, the experts stopped checking their computers and started checking the skies.
Olympius’ craft landed in Downing Street, between the giant security fence and Number Ten where the Prime Minister was engaged in a meeting about bucking up British Sport. The policeman guarding Number Ten was dumbstruck, thinking this was a terrorist attack. Everyone thought that and the craft was immediately surrounded by dozens of armed and fearful looking soldiers. They stared at the multi-coloured craft totally bemused. As spaceships went, this was one of the most eye-catching and unexpected, beautifully coloured and very friendly looking, as far from a bomb or camouflaged weapon as it is possible to be.
And it hummed a tune:
‘God Save the Queen’.
“I’m very safe,” said a quiet and pleasant voice. “Just trying to deliver a peaceful message.”
A tiny crack hissed open in the side of the ship and a white flag was waved.
“I’m not surrendering,” said the voice, “it’s just a sign of goodwill. First contact can often be a bit scary, for us as well as you. Any chance the PM could pop out for a moment?”
There was no chance of that.
“Look,” said the voice. “My name is Olympius Betelgeuse III and I’ve sent an invitation to your schools here but no one believes me. I’m rather busy at the moment, but took the opportunity of a few hours break to come in person and speak to your leader - can you take me to him?”
No one present had any training for dealing with first contact with an alien race. Most just looked on suspiciously, and it was only the fact that a spaceship was there, sitting in front of them, in Downing Street, that gave them pause for thought. Some trigger happy soldiers wanted to blast the ship to Kingdom Come, but fortunately word got to the Prime Minister who bravely came out to speak directly with Olympius.
When the door of Number Ten opened and the Prime Minister emerged, the door of the ship also opened and Olympius Betelgeuse III stepped out.
“Prime Minister?”
“Yes.”
“Olympius Betelgeuse. The Third.”
The Prime Minister stared, as did everyone else. This indeed was first contact with an alien being, a creature from another planet. Another solar system. But far from a fanfare and great celebrations, he had just popped in to say hello and deliver a quick message before getting back to work. All very odd.
Olympius was clearly alien. He was vaguely humanoid, two legs, but four arms, deep pink, scaly skin, large fishy eyes that rolled forwards and backwards like oiled ball-bearings, and a clear, friendly smile. He wore jeans and a sweatshirt.
“No time for formal wear,” he said. “I’ll be dressed on Rigel Four at the opening ceremony. Are you coming?”
The Prime Minister was a quick thinker and, being a politician, adjusted to new situations speedily.
“Am I invited?”
“I can get you a ticket, if you’d like to come.”
The Prime Minister came closer. Olympius had a distinctly fishy smell, but not unpleasant.
“Was the message for real?” he asked.
Olympius shook his head.
“You are a stubborn race,” he said. “What do we have to do before you believe you aren’t alone? We’ve been buzzing you for years and leaving all kinds of messages, but you really take no notice. I hope you aren’t going to be too rebellious.”
“Sceptical, I think,” said the Prime Minister.
“Hmph!” said Olympius. “The message was for real. Here’s another copy.”
He held out a scroll of paper and as he did so guns were raised.
“I say,” Olympius said to the soldiers. “If you shoot me, there’ll be hell to pay. I’m really quite friendly you know.”
The soldiers didn’t lower their weapons, but the Prime Minister moved even closer.
“Would you like to shake hands?” he asked Olympius. “It’s a custom here, when strangers meet.”
“Don’t mind if I do,” said Olympius, and he eased down the three steps of his craft on to Earth. “First time here, myself,” he said, tapping the ground with a large, flat foot. “How do you do, Prime Minister.”
And he held out one of his four slippery looking hands.
By now, television cameras were in overdrive and the scene was being broadcast all around the world. The President of the United States was watching and was dead jealous. First Contact was supposed to be with the one Super Power, not some small past-its-sell-by-date country, even if they were best friends. The USA had great and secret plans for such a meeting as this, and yet here it was being played out in front of however many billions of people in Downing Street, England. The President was peeved.
He became even more peeved when Olympius announced to the world that the e-mail he’d sent was genuine, that a child was invited to take part in the Galactic Games and that the UK had been selected, mainly to keep the number of entrants down. Other leaders of other countries were equally miffed. They had children who could take part just as well, why pick on the UK? What was special about them? Olympius knew the selection would upset a lot of people and explained that it was all done by a kind of lottery.
“Luck of the draw,” he said, and then, “Prime Minister. I wonder, while I’m here, and I can’t stay long by the way, do you think…” and he whispered something into the Prime Minister’s ear. The PM went rather red and nodded, at which Olympius ducked inside Downing Street, closely followed by the PM who showed him to the bathroom.
When he emerged fresh, but a bit confused by the mechanics of Earth toilets, the Prime Minister invited him to sit, and he did. As he sat, he sighed.
“Ah, Prime Minister,” he almost whispered, “this is very comfortable. Stellar travel can be tiring, you know.”
“Actually,” the PM replied, “I didn’t know. No one on Earth knows. This is something of a shock to us. We all thought the e-mail was a fake.”
Olympius nodded.
“I should have guessed,” he said, “but I was in a hurry and hoped you’d be more trusting. Too many first contacts have made me a li