Agent Pangolin

By A C Bradburn

Sunda is a pangolin on a mission. Her family has been taken by poachers, she's been ripped away from her beloved Sumatran rainforest and now the beautiful nature reserve that she calls home in London is about to be destroyed by humans. But there's no way she's going to let that happen. Sunda becomes an animal secret agent for the mysterious 'Web of Light' and discovers an ancient legend that could help save her home. Can she solve the mystery of the shiny moon before it's too late? With beautiful illustrations by Julia Vasileva, this is a magical story of courage, friendship and justice for the natural world.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Clink Street Publishing
• Release date: Nov 24, 2022
• ISBN: 9781915229052

A C Bradburn

A C Bradburn are a husband and wife writing team. Their first book, Agent Pangolin, is llustrated by Julia Vasileva.

Book preview

For I & E

And all the animals fighting for their place in this world

In memory of Melati

Contents

Title Page

Dedication

Chapter One

Chapter Two

Chapter Three

Chapter Four

Chapter Five

Chapter Six

Chapter Seven

Chapter Eight

Chapter Nine

Chapter Ten

Chapter Eleven

Chapter Twelve

Chapter Thirteen

Chapter Fourteen

Chapter Fifteen

King’s Cross Herald

Historical Influences

About the Author

About the Illustrator

Copyright

Chapter One

THUD!

A ginormous paw bashed Sunda’s back. She was drenched with fear.

THUD!

And again, THUD!

She recited the pangolin mantra: curl up, hold firm, don’t relax for one second. That was the pangolin way – at the first sign of danger, roll into a protective ball and wait for the threat to pass. Wincing as the paw struck yet again, she kept her long tail firmly clasped around her head. Her tough, chestnut brown scales gave her the perfect suit of armour. Then the snuffling began – probing, teasing, searching for a way in, first with claws, then with teeth. She held her breath. Eventually a slobbery tongue wrapped around her scales and propelled her across the forest floor. She came to rest at the foot of a giant meranti tree, perched on one of its roots like a stranded soursop. 2

The tiger cub came at her again, lolloping over the crisp, dry leaves. It grunted, so close that Sunda could feel its steamy breath. A slimy globule of saliva oozed down over her scales and onto the ground. She hadn’t managed to get a proper look but it seemed like a young one, hopefully too small to break her defences. But the cub’s parents couldn’t be far away and the thought of a fully-grown Sumatran tiger sent a fresh burst of terror through her scales.

GROWL!

There was no mistaking that – a warning cry from mother to child. Sunda peeked out from behind her armoured coat to see the end of a striped tail disappearing into the undergrowth. She cautiously unfurled, stretching out her soft belly with a hum of relief. That was close! But what had so alarmed the mother tiger? Perhaps the cub had strayed just a little too far – yes, that was probably all it was, nothing to worry about. Sunda ought to be getting back home though, not least because she was supposed to be looking after Marshanda. Her parents would be furious if they found out she’d been foraging for ants instead of watching her younger sister. She lifted her long snout into the air and took a sniff; she wasn’t too far from home and fortunately the tiger cub had raced off in the opposite direction.

Sunda trundled back towards her family, looking forward to telling Marshanda of her brave escape from the deadly tiger, when she caught sight of a procession of ants marching up a tree. Her nose was quick to locate the nest and with such an irresistible aroma, she forgot about returning home. Instead, she scampered up the trunk to find an enormous hollow teeming with mouth-watering insects. Closing her eyes, she plunged her long sticky tongue into the delicious black mass.

CRACK!

The sound ricocheted around the dense forest – a 3grotesque echo, distorting as it bounced from tree to tree. Humans! With a gun! No wonder the mother tiger had sent out a warning. Sunda froze.

CRACK!

That one was much closer and Sunda shuddered as she clung to the trunk. She was stranded in a tree, unable to ball up and protect herself. And where was her family? It felt like the hundreds of ants that she’d just gobbled up were crawling through her insides, trying to work their way back up again. She heard shuffling from the forest floor and looked down to see her mum and dad just below.

‘Sunda, Marshanda, where are you?’ her father called.

Marshanda! Where’s Marshanda?

She’d been perfectly safe where Sunda had left her. She’d only been gone a minute, hadn’t she? Surely Marshanda was still there – she had to be. Sunda’s heart was pumping so fast that she thought it would explode. She desperately searched the forest for Marshanda.

‘Sunda! Marshanda!’ yelled her father.

‘I’m up here,’ answered Sunda. Her dad looked up, their eyes met and the ants in her stomach calmed as relief flooded his face. But then a heavy crunch instantly made both her parents snap into a ball and a pair of large muddy boots stomped to the foot of the tree. Her mum and dad were picked up and casually chucked into a woven sack. Then the boots turned and strode away, taking the sack with them.

SILENCE.

Sunda remained glued to the tree, staring at the empty space where her mum and dad had been moments earlier. She couldn’t get her legs to move. Yet a voice inside was screaming at her to run, to chase down that man, to rescue her parents. She’d heard about this happening to other pangolins – kidnapped, stolen, never seen again – but she’d been lucky it had never been her family. Until now. 4

Wake up, Sunda! Do something! What about Marshanda?

The thought of her sister jolted Sunda into action. Forgetting about her own safety, she slid down the tree and bolted over to where she’d left Marshanda.

This can’t be happening!

She stared at the empty patch of flattened grass where she’d last seen her sister. The ants inside her were back on the march, spreading through her nerves and invading her brain, making it impossible to think, move, breathe.

‘Marshanda!’ she croaked. ‘Marshanda, where are you? Can you hear me?’

Nothing. Was she in that sack as well? Or was she hiding somewhere nearby, too scared to answer? Sunda lurched from bush to tree, flinging back branches, snapping vines and turning over the forest floor. But there was no sign of her, not even any scent. Sunda had to do something before it was too late.

A trace of the human still lingered in the air and she knew she had to follow it. Almost immediately she was out of her territory, racing past unfamiliar trees and trampling through thick vegetation. The whooping calls of the siamang gibbons seemed to taunt her from above as she willed Marshanda to appear. Before long, the trees began to thin out and the scent was engulfed by a mass of other smells and noises. In front of her, humans swarmed in every direction, some carrying big bundles; some dragging baskets of stinking fish; others arguing, laughing, shouting. It made Sunda’s brain whirl. Beyond the commotion, a mass of floating vessels jostled for space on the sparkling blue ocean. Some of them were small and striped with vibrant colours, others huge cages sprouting towering grey trunks. Sunda scrambled up a fig tree for a better view. She’d never been this far from home as she and Marshanda had always been forbidden to leave the forest. Mum and Dad had warned of 5the dangers that humans posed to pangolins. And now one of those humans had snatched away her parents and maybe her sister too.

6So many humans. Where’s mine gone?

Scanning the scene in front of her, she caught a glimpse of a human with big boots and a brown sack heading onto one of the vessels. That had to be the one! She left her hiding place and launched into the hubbub, half running, half rolling towards the ocean, following the human with the sack. Gasping for breath, she traced his steps up a wooden plank and onto one of the floating enclosures.

Inside it was cold and dark, nothing but hard surfaces and towers of imprisoned fruits. Sunda hid behind a crate and took a deep breath in through her nose; the smell of durian fruit was overpowering. Although she’d lost the human’s scent from the forest, she was convinced that it had been the same man – he’d had a sack over his shoulder and, from a distance, it had looked exactly like the bag in the forest. Her family had to be here somewhere. She crept further in to take a look around.

‘Marshanda?’ she whispered. ‘Mum?’

A loud bang made Sunda jump and the light cut out. She felt her way back to the entrance but it was no longer there, just a solid wall and some metal chains. Then, the floor started to tremble and she had to steady herself as she realised she was moving. The floating cage had set sail.

Chapter Two

Sunda searched along every wall for an exit but there was no way out. Her stomach was flooded with a surge of wriggling panic. She was trapped in a large metal box. It was very dark and horribly cold. The floor beneath her paws was painful to the touch and every time she breathed in, her nostrils filled with prickles. She whimpered softly.

The space was crammed with crates of durian fruit, piled right up to the ceiling and all hardening in the frozen air. She clambered off the icy floor and worked her way up one of the fruit towers, feeling the sway of the ocean as she climbed. It was as if her world was melting away beneath her, leaving her to float away. As she reached the top of the stack, a rush of sickness swept over her. She clung to the edges of the crate with her long claws, rapidly getting colder and weaker.

As she drifted in and out of consciousness, she could hear a most peculiar song: 8

First they cut it from the tree

Then send it off across the sea

But now it’s time to set it free

Delicious fruit, and all for me!

The song was followed by a sharp cackle. Sunda let out a faint moan.

‘Who’s there?’ demanded a scratchy voice. ‘Show yourself immediately or prepare to feed the fish!’

‘Over here,’ answered Sunda faintly. ‘So cold.’

A warm, wet nose thrust into her face. ‘A pangolin?’ said the scratchy voice. ‘And you’re alive? What on earth are you doing in my fruit freezer?’

‘I didn’t mean…got trapped…’

‘Actually, maybe you can be of use. Come on, follow me.’

It was difficult for Sunda to even stand. Her scales were stuck together with something cold and hard which flaked off as she stamped some movement into her two back feet and tried to shake her muzzle back to life.

‘This way, quickly, come on,’ the scratchy voice beckoned from above, ‘before the humans come to investigate.’

A light had appeared in the far corner of the ceiling. Sunda shuffled towards it from one crate to the next until she could make out a small hatch. As she squeezed through the gap, great waves of warmth washed over her, rippling life back into her frozen limbs. She found herself in a small den with a very low ceiling, littered with chunks of rotting fruit. She gratefully