Star Blaze Read Online Free PDF Page A

straight over and underneath the bed, curling up beside the radiator below the window. As he did so, he nudged a little cardboard box out of the way, to make himself more comfortable. Apart from Johnny’s handheld games console, anyone looking in the box would have thought it full of junk, but the other little odds and ends were the only things he had left of his dad’s. Sometimes, Johnny rummaged through and held the precious contents, just to feel close to his father again. Now, though, there was something more pressing to be done.
    Above his bed was a shimmering haze, like dust particles glinting in the moonlight. Only, despite the open curtains, tonight there was no moon. Johnny took a deep breath, closed his eyes and placed his face into the twinkling cloud. When he opened them he was looking out onto the central courtyard of the Imperial Palace on Melania, the planet that was the capital of the galaxy. The dim red light and single shadows meant only one of the twin suns, Arros or Deynar, was above the horizon, but Johnny couldn’t see which.
    The Wormhole connected Johnny’s bedroom to this place—it was the reason Johnny wasn’t living permanently on the
Spirit of London
. It had been created by a Cornicula Worm (given to Johnny by the Emperor, along with a supply of eggs to hatch more) burrowing back through the fabric of time and space to its home world. You couldn’t travel through it, but you could send asignal and see what was going on. The square was quiet. Johnny opened his mouth and said, “Bram,” quietly at first, but much louder the second time. He hoped the Emperor was nearby.
    â€œWho’s there?” came a high-pitched squeaky voice from somewhere behind. Then, into the half-light, stepped a very thin creature, nearly three meters high, with a long face and wearing robes of the same electric blue as a dragonfly. It was a Phasmeer, a type of alien (neither male nor female) that seemed common in the Imperial Civil Service.
    Whenever Johnny saw one he was reminded of the traitor Gronack, who’d been aboard the
Spirit of London
for a while until it had betrayed Johnny and Clara and handed them over to Colonel Hartman, someone high up in a sinister organization that suspected their half-alien parentage. When that backfired, it tried to sell them to the Andromedans instead. Even now, it made Johnny mad just remembering—he hadn’t yet met one of these aliens he liked. “I need to speak with Bram,” he said. “Can you get him?”
    â€œI take it you are referring to His Divine Imperial Majesty, the Emperor Bram Khari?” squeaked the Phasmeer. “I’ll just run along and fetch him, shall I?”
    â€œYes please,” Johnny replied, but the creature didn’t move.
    Instead it folded two long arms, jointed only near the very end, in front of its robes (which were beginning to turn pink) and replied, “And who might you be who dares to summon the Emperor?”
    â€œI didn’t mean it like that,” said Johnny. “It’s me—Johnny Mackintosh. He’d want to speak to me.”
    â€œOh he would, would he, Johnny Mackintosh? I rather think I would have the shortest tenure of any Chancellor in Melanian history were I to summon His Divine Imperial Majesty for some young upstart who just happened to stumble upon a Cornicular opening.”
    â€œIt’s not like that,” Johnny replied, as earnestly as he could. “We’re friends. Bram …”
    â€œThis is a priority channel for direct communication with the Emperor over matters of state,” shrieked the Phasmeer, its voice higher than ever and robes now bright red. “I shall be reporting its abuse to the appropriate authorities. Good day to you. Your transmission is terminated.” A fine spray wafted from one of the Phasmeer’s hands in the direction of Johnny face. As it reached him, the Wormhole contracted around his