Alienated
by C.G. Harris
Chapter 1
Sea spray and hot sun were all that separated us as we slid along the ship’s rail. My thin shirt and swim trunks fluttered in the breeze while Wendy’s skirt flipped and rolled, threatening to reveal far more than her father would have liked. I ran out of deck, and we were alone at the rear of the ship. My heart pounded as Wendy moved in close, using her body to press me into the corner where the railing hooked around toward the stern.
“I thought you should know something, Zander.” Wendy licked her lips. “I haven’t really had time to brush my teeth this morning—and I think I feel a cold sore coming on.” She touched a spot on her upper lip. “Right about there.”
I stared down at her in horror. The bad thing about long time arch-enemies, especially since elementary school? They know your every little weakness.
“Get that fungus culture away from me. I didn’t do anything to you.”
Wendy leaned in closer. “No? Who told my father about the cell phone I snuck on board?”
I glanced to the side and tried to look innocent. “So … did your dad say when they’ll get the boat going again? I’ll bet some of the passengers are pretty freaked out, being stuck out in the middle of the ocean like this, huh.”
Wendy glared. “Dad said the captain’s working on a computer glitch or something. Don’t change the subject. I saw you talking to him earlier.”
I dropped the act and threw my hands in the air. “How was I supposed to know he’d throw it overboard? Besides, it’s not my fault. This was a no electronics vacation, remember?”
Wendy shot me a tight-lipped grin and nodded. “That’s why I’m here. To thank you for showing me the error of my ways.”
“Well then—you’re welcome.” I tried to scoot away but Wendy clamped a hand on the rail and blocked me in.
“No, I think this deserves a real thank you.” She paused.
“You don’t need to do that …”
Wendy ignored my objection. “Do you know how many germs there are in the human mouth? It’s a slimy, bacteria-infested minefield right on the front of our faces.” Wendy exhaled a hot breath into my nose. It smelled like feet and an onion bagel. “I’ll bet there are billions of little infections and viruses and old rotted food particles just itching to get at you.”
She glanced at my hand as I thrust it into my pocket. “Thinking about your sanitary wipes, Zander? Do you want to get them out?”
I winced, fingering the portable container I kept there. She knew me too well.
“Here, maybe this will help.” In one swift move, Wendy licked her hand, slapped it to my face, and smeared it all the way down my cheek, twisting for maximum spread.
My hand shot out of my pocket so fast it ejected the little packet of disinfectant wipes and sent them flying over the rail. Gravity didn’t take them down to the water, at least not right away. Instead they spun straight out, defying any reasonable law of physics, as if they had been skipped across an invisible sheet of ice, only to drop like a stone at the end. I gawked after the little packet for a second, my head tilted like a confused dog, but the horror of my predicament left me no time to wonder. I was left clutching only a single towelette. I slapped the tiny white tissue to my face and scrubbed for all I was worth.
“What on earth is going on here?”
Great. Mom. Things were getting better and better.
“Oh, hi.” I faked a smile. “Wendy and I were just having a little chat.”
The tiny towelette started to wear thin and tear, but I couldn’t stop scrubbing.
“So I saw.” Mom waved a martini in our direction. “A very friendly conversation … I drag you along on the company vacation because you can’t be trusted alone at home, and here I find you doing … what, with Evan Whitman’s daughter?”
My eyes widened with horror. “Mom you don’t understand. She pushed me into the corner and told me she hadn’t brushed her teeth …”
“Zander! I don’t want to hear it.”
“Maybe I should excuse myself.” Wendy eyed me up and down, then shot me a wink and smiled. “Catch you later, Zander.”
Wendy walked away and Mom turned her empty martini glass on me like the turret on a tank. “Evan Whitman is my boss. He is everyone’s boss. He owns the company, this boat, and he paid for this lavish vacation—and you thank him by canoodling with his daughter. I should have sent you to stay with your father, Lord knows it’s about time he put up with you for a while.”
“Mom … please, never say canoodling again.”
“Ms. Craig?” Mom turned around and a man in a black tux held out a fresh martini.
“Oh, you’re a life saver, Charles.” Mom flashed her executive smile. “Have you met my youngest son, Zander?”
Charles smiled and nodded to me. “He’s got your blue eyes,” he winked. “And your good looks.”
“Yes, well, at least at 16 he doesn’t have to get that shade of blonde from the beauty salon the way I do.”
They both laughed and I turned my back on them to lean on the rail. It didn’t matter. Nothing I said would matter. I did my best to tune out their chitchat, and let my head hang and watched the waves roll past the boat below. You knew things had gone seriously wrong when staying in bed seemed better than standing on the sunlit deck of a luxury yacht.
Glass shattered behind me. An olive rolled past my feet and into the water, trailed by a stream of clear liquid. Great. Dropping her martini would put Mom in an even better mood. Just one more topper on a horrific day. I turned, hoping to escape under the guise of finding someone to clean up the mess—then a scream cut through the air.
People began to shout from other areas of the boat. I snapped my head back toward the water, searching for the threat. The bright blue ocean was calm and clear. Another scream made the flesh on my arms prickle. I turned back to see Mom staring up at the sky, face stricken with horror … and wonder. Before I could look up, a woman I didn’t recognize rocketed between us with a toddler bobbing on her hip, forcing me back a step. She held her arm outstretched to meet a man on the other side of the deck. He swept them both into his arms and stood there, as if he knew these were the last precious seconds of their lives. I shook my head, and forced myself to look away. Hot wind assaulted my skin and a pulsing roar crashed into my ears.
I followed my mother’s gaze up to see a sleek silver-blue craft descend from the clouds. The enormous spacecraft blocked out the sun, easily ten to fifteen times the size of our two-hundred-foot ship. Its shadow cast a chill over my skin and replaced the warm yellow light with a blue glow emanating from its hull. The thing had the vague shape of a stingray and didn’t have any visible jets or engines, but it slowed and turned to align above us, revealing an opening where a stingray’s tail would be—some sort of cargo hold, open and waiting—waiting for us.
The sleek spacecraft shimmered again. Our boat lurched, and I staggered forward, grabbing the rail to keep myself from falling. There was a groan of wood and steel, then the hull began to rise out of the water. Passenger screams redoubled as the deck tilted at an odd upward angle. Slowly, the huge ship rose free of the ocean and ascended toward the open maw at the back of the spacecraft.
I turned toward Mom, wondering what to do, and saw movement from the corner of my eye.
“Move!” I felt her hands on my shoulder.
I’m not sure she meant to push me toward the rail, but I was already off balance. I reached out, trying to find something to hold onto. I saw someone holding my mom back, keeping her from jumping overboard with me. She watched me go, reached for me, but she was too far away.
I fell over the rail and in the water, then everything went dark, and I couldn’t breathe.
Chapter 2
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The shock of hitting the water drew every bit of breath from my lungs. I wasn’t a swimmer—at all. My eyes burned and water churned up my nose, making me want to choke. I noticed light above my head, so I kicked my feet and flailed my arms, doing my best to head for it. My lungs screamed for air, burning, begging me to breathe. They got their wish.
My head broke the surface. I took in a lungful of air and seawater, before I went back down in the churning waves. I kicked harder, bobbed up, took another soggy breath, and slipped back under.
My hand brushed something above my head. I reached for it and felt a rough rope, just wide enough for me to get hold of.
I pulled, and my body rose. My face broke the surface once more and I gulped in air, pulling an orange and white life preserver to my chest. I looked for the ship and saw it hovering about a foot above the water. I didn’t know who threw the life preserver, but there were several others around me. They must have gone with a shotgun tactic which I was thankful for. It was a minor miracle one had landed close enough for me to grab.
My floatation device carried me away from the roaring spacecraft, the ship, my mom, and any vestige of humanity for hundreds of miles. I didn’t know if I was escaping or being left to die. All around me, as far as my stinging red eyes could see, was seawater. It was beyond overwhelming. Undrinkable, unswimmable, unsurvivable. A death sentence.
Even a bad choice was better than no choice at all. I flailed my feet and headed back toward the ship.
Overhead, the spacecraft turned a deeper shade of blue. The pulsing roar of its engines grew louder. The ship continued to rise, already halfway to the cargo hold. I kicked my feet harder and scooped one arm into the water, clutching my life preserver with the other. Another life preserver, floating several feet in front of me, began to levitate toward the spacecraft. The beam still stretched all the way to the water, which meant I had a chance.
But what would happen when the boat was inside the hold?
I kicked and thrashed, trying to go faster, wiggling my body like an epileptic porpoise. Water from the ship’s hull rained down on my face as my body became weightless and I started to ascend. It felt strange. Not like something had grabbed me. More like something had been taken away. The sensation made me twitch and kick, trying to right myself in the air, but it was no use.
My stomach flopped end over end with weightless nausea … I wondered if anyone had ever thrown up in a gravity beam before. I closed my eyes. That made things worse. I opened my eyes and tried to find something to focus on. Something small and blue rose through the air to my left.
It drifted closer, and my nausea drained away. I squinted at the object, thinking it looked familiar, and reached out with a laugh as I recognized my travel pack of sanitary wet wipes. What were the odds they would find me here? Such a little thing, yet it gave me hope. The impossible made possible.
I shifted my focus back to the ship and tried to think. Nothing I did made me move any faster. My body was at the mercy of the beam, at least for now. I needed to relax, conserve my energy. I was close to the boat, within a few feet. If the spacecraft pulled our ship far enough into the cargo hold, I could slip in right behind it. No reason to panic—at least not until I was inside the glowing blue kidnapping spaceship of death.
Something hissed and gears began to grind above me. The sound made me spasm like a newborn baby, but I took a deep breath, reentering my resolve to accept the situation until I could do something about it. I cocked my head to the side, doing my best to see around our bloated cruise ship.
The cargo bay doors were closing.
My Zen like tranquility detonated in a thrashing fit arms and legs, as I tried in vain to propel myself through the zero-gravity atmosphere.
The ship passed through the cargo doors with just enough room to get by. The doors kept closing like a sleek, bomb bay guillotine.
Just when I thought my nether regions couldn’t twist any tighter, I saw one of the life preservers caught in the outer edges of the gravity beam drop past me like a comet. The beam contracted as the ship moved into the bay.
I read somewhere that water is as hard as concrete when you hit it from a certain height. I decided I didn’t want to see what happened to the life preserver when it hit.
The ship stopped rising above me. I could only see about half of it now. The doors were closing fast, but I was almost there—just a few more inches. I reached out and touched the cool material of the spacecraft with my hand. It felt like ultra-smooth metal or ice-cold epoxy. Super slick. Nothing to get a handhold on.
I reached over the edge and felt a ridge just inside the door. I pulled, thinking I was home free—just as gravity returned to my left leg.
Chapter 3
Weight returned to my hanging left arm, then gravity slowly returned to my head and torso as the beam shrank and retreated into the cargo bay with the ship.
All my weight hung from my tenuis handhold inside the door. The package of wet wipes was still in my free hand so I jammed it between my teeth and swung up, reaching for anything I could grip onto. If I couldn’t pull myself inside, there would be two of me for mother to love … or hate. Two pieces of me, anyway.
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My left hand touched something rough and solid. It held my weight, so I pulled. My muscles groaned but I got my shoulder up over the edge. The doors began to close, hitting my back and stopping my momentum every time I tried to swing in. I strained. harderand pulled my torso over the ledge. The outside light began to disappear as I scissored my legs, frantic for a last bit of leverage. My hips were up, and the door just clipped the back of my thigh as I rolled my body inside.
I gasped with relief and reached for the back of my swim trunks, worried I might have left some fabric trapped in the doors. That, and for the first time in my life I thought I had soiled my underwear.
I let my head fall back and I caught my breath while I looked around. Everything inside the hold looked incredibly clean. Bright, sleek, and shiny, like an ice cave polished into a perfect dome. The walls had a faint blue cast, similar to the outside hull, and there were rows of black cylindrical containers strapped to the floor. One of those straps had been the handhold I used to pull myself inside.
Above me, some sort of observation deck extended out from the wall, like a balcony, but no one seemed to be up there. Thank goodness.
The spacecraft had an enormous hold, large enough to fit eight more of our cruise ships within its shining cavity. Another, smaller, boat listed on its side in the far corner. It looked like a fishing vessel, white with a bright blue stripe and lots of nets and rigging.
Our ship hovered several feet above the icy-looking floor, held aloft by the gravity beam. It rocked in slow lazy turns, like a toy hung from a string.
Some of the passengers on the deck looked down at me, waving and screaming, but I couldn’t hear them. I pointed to my ears and shook my head, hoping they would get the message.
Apparently my sign language meant cup your hands around your mouth and yell louder.
I pointed above the boat and made a scissor motion with my fingers, telling them I would try to find a way to cut off the beam. That message seemed to get through. The passengers nodded, wide-eyed and helpless.
I wanted to know where Mom was. If she was all right. I wondered if she had jumped off the boat to try and help me.
But for now, I had to get the ship free of the gravity beam, preferably before our hosts arrived.
I jogged to one of the walls and ran my hand along the cool surface. There appeared to be a few doors, or at least door-like seams, in the smooth surface. There were also small access grates on the floor, but no latches to release them. The one thing I couldn't find was a way out.
The spacecraft wasn’t built like anything I’d seen before. Not much of an epiphany there. It wasn’t built like anything anyone had seen before. There were no levers, buttons, or switches. Not even a microphone or speaker to announce when it was time to fasten your seat-belts and put trays into an upright position. The walls were just a smooth blue-white glass from top to bottom.
I looked up toward the observation deck again. Maybe the beam controls were up there—not that it mattered. Unless I figured how to levitate myself, I wasn’t getting anywhere near that either.
A new set of people stood at the railing of the ship. This group was busy trying to find their own way off. Mom wasn’t with them. , I worried more and more that she was floating all alone in the middle of the ocean. The thought twisted my stomach. We may have our issues, but she was still my mom.
I turned back toward the door and smacked the wall in frustration. Lights began to illuminate around my hand soI held it there, and watched as a series of symbols appeared on the icy blue surface. Some sort of instructions. To me they looked like a preschooler got bored with a blue marker during nap time. Even so, it had to be what I was looking for.
I was rewarded with blips and beeps with every touch and swish of my fingers. At first it was encouraging, but when nothing useful happened, it got annoying. I tried to push the symbols in a row, in patterns, randomly, everything I could think of, but I didn’t understand the system. The door wouldn’t open; the gravity beam would not shut off.
I turned and threw my hands in the air, looking up at the boat for guidance. When I did, I spotted Mom at the rail. Relief washed over me. She was there. Not safe, precisely, but not shark bait either. I took a step forward and tears welled up in my eyes. I smiled, and lifted my arms toward her, not knowing what else to do.
She looked down and mouthed something. I squinted. She said it again.
What we were sinking?
No, that wasn’t it. Thinking. What were you thinking?
I stepped back. What was I thinking?
I shrugged and looked back up at her. She shook her head and put her face in her hands. Was she crying?
I leaned back against the wall, trying to decide what she meant, but my thoughts were interrupted by new activity at the panel.
The wall turned green and flashed, then the ship’s lazy spin slowed to a stop, and it descended to the deck.
My heart leaped. I still had time.
I sprinted toward the open cargo area to peer up at the ship. It looked so much taller out of the water. There was no way I couldreach the deck from the ground. Unfortunately, that problem began to resolve itself by causing a much bigger one.
The ship touched down, then it began listing to the side, falling like a narcoleptic giant.
I sprinted in the opposite direction and dove out of the way as the rail hit the floor behind my sandals. One second later and that same railing would have cut me off at the knees. I looked back, frantic to see what had happened to everyone on board. The ship hadn’t come down easy. It didn’t shatter on impact or anything, but the whip-crack stop was enough to rocket anyone off the deck and splat them on the hard, cargo hold floor.
I scanned the carnage but saw no one. Then movement above caught my eye. It was the passengers and crew. They were hovering in the air. Balls of light blue energy had encapsulated them and they were moving toward one another—but not by choice.
The balls converged and joined together as they settled on the cargo deck. Then the bubble changed shape again. The passengers and crew scrambled to their feet as the energy bubble elongated, forcing them into a single file line inside.
I scrambled forward, determined to find a way to break through the field. My efforts were foiled seconds later by another unforeseen adversary. A puddle of water. I slipped and went down in a skidding mass of slapping skin.
I slid to a stop, hiddenbehind one of the big black cylinder pallets then every door in the cargo area flashed open. Two enormous … things walked in, carrying weapons that would make an Abrams tank jealous. Not that the creatures looked like they needed weapons. They seemed to be carved from seven-foot pillars of black granite … with a jack-hammer. Every crack and crevice of their jagged skin glowed blue as if from an inner light , and their chest and shoulders bore a strange insignia. Small pointed ears topped their heads, and their mouths were jagged openings with crags of rock for teeth. Worst of all, their eyes blazed with the same blue light as their bodies, but brighter and more intense, like a furnace that couldn’t quite contain the sapphire flame. They moved like armored giants, and despite the size of their spacecraft, I felt the rumble of their steps on the floor.
I would rather face down the unholy spawn of a grizzly bear and a tyrannosaurus rex than one of these terrifying aliens.
The lead creature swung its weapon around to face the people in the energy field. The firearm looked like a six-barreled cross between a bazooka and a rail gun.
My face and limbs went numb. He was going to fire. I opened my mouth to scream as the creature pulled the trigger. A short beam jumped from the barrels and attached to the energy field. The moment the beam connected, the group of people bumped and bobbled, then began to move. Some were talking, some were crying, and some appeared to be screaming, but I couldn’t hear a sound.
Mom walked in the middle of the line, neither screaming nor crying. I watched her move along for a moment. If I knew my mother, she was considering her options. She would find the best one, and escape if she could.
I would do the same.
As soon as both creatures were through the door I rolled to my left and dove through one of the openings, keeping my ears peeled for giant footsteps. Ahead of me, I could feel as much as hear the huge creature’s footfalls. Thanks to the curved shape of the hull, I remained hidden from our captors. I followed as quietly as possible.
The hall was just as stark and barren as the cargo area, with icy blue walls and floors. It smelled industrial and clean. Doors lined both sides of the hallway, and while the narrow, arced passage made it easier to stay out of sight, it also made it easy for someone to sneak up behind me.
I followed the heavy footsteps around until I came to an area that looked like a waiting room. There were several sturdy looking chairs set into the wall with doors that could be closed for privacy. I paused when the footsteps ahead of me came to a halt. Thats when I heard something else. More footsteps, but these were coming from behind me.
These footfalls seemed lighter—less defined than the heavy clomp of thealiens. But someone, or something was coming. The alien in the lead must have heard the footsteps too, because he turned back to clomp in my direction as well.
Perfect. I was sandwiched between two aliens with nowhere to go.
I looked around for somewhere to hide. There was only one choice.
Rest and get a little privacy from your killer neighborhood alien in the Acme relaxation pod.
I ran to one of the open chairs and stepped inside. The door swung closed with a soft swish, but I didn’t allow it to latch. Considering my earlier experience with the doors, I decided I’d rather not end up trapped in an alien chair pod.
I glanced down at the big industrial looking seat and wondered how many alien butts had plopped down there and what sort of germs existed in outer space. War of the Worlds in reverse came to mind.
I decided to stand and treat the pod like an outhouse restroom—which I wouldn’t be caught dead in—while I waited for the glowy blue granite aliens to find me and kill me.
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Chapter 4
The footsteps padding up behind me moved much faster than the ones I followed. I watched through the crack of the pod, staring back down the arced hall. A shadow grew on the slick blue wall. A moment later the owner of the plodding feet emerged around the bend. My stomach dropped. Wendy Whitman.
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Of all people, why had she escaped? She should be trapped with the crowd or making friends with sharp-toothed creatures in the ocean, instead of flat-foot stomping down the aliens’ hall, advertising our position.
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I could stay quiet. Wendy would never see me, and the aliens would return and toss her in with the rest of the prisoners—to be tortured and who knows what else while I wandered out here all alone, wondering what to do.
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Wendy paused in the alcove outside the pod. I couldn’t hear the other footsteps anymore, thanks to Wendy’s snoring pig breaths, but the thing had to be getting close.
“Psst … Wendy … in here.”
Wendy let out a little eep and nearly jumped out of her shoes. She turned to face me, hands raised, ready to fight. When she recognized me, Wendy actually rolled her eyes and turned away.
My face felt hot, but I did my best to tamp down my rage. Wendy was too far away to grab, and I wasn’t about to expose myself for someone who rolled her eyes at a rescuer.
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“Wendy,” I whispered, praying my voice wouldn’t carry, “quit acting like a rich brat and get in here. They’re coming. Get in … or beat it, one or the other.”
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Wendy squinted at me with disgust and skepticism for a moment, then she bounded in my direction and squeezed into the pod.
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The mini-room was made for a creature larger than a human, but only one of them, so the quarters were a little tight—especially when the door latched behind Wendy.
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“Don’t let it close all the way, are you crazy?” The pitch of my whisper rose to the tone of a dog whistle. “What if it only opens from the outside?”
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“What do you mean it only opens from the outside? How was I supposed to know?”
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Wendy turned around, squishing me into the back of the pod. I was forced into the seat with every part of my body touching either Wendy or the pod. Visions of a roadside outhouse came back to mind; I tried not to think about who—or what had been in here before me.
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Wendy ran her hands over the door but, like the cargo area, she found no handle. “Are you kidding me?”
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She started to slap the wall of the pod, but I caught her arm and whipped the packet of wet-wipes out of my pocket and shoved it over her mouth just in time to stop another noisy objection. Wendy fought me for a moment. I was afraid my fingers might slip and touch her cold-sore infested lip, but then she peered through the small port window in front of her and froze.
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Our alien visitor had returned, and was searching the area. Not that he had much to search: a hall, the sitting area, and the pods. In hindsight, I felt like I had put us on a platter. We were just missing the apple in our mouth. Where else could we be but in the pods?
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The alien looked around, casting a soft blue glow on the walls with its inner light. Its blazing eyes passed over the pods. I pulled Wendy back, doing my best to melt us into the shadows. Wendy had her hand wrapped around mine, squeezing it tight but I was too scared to care.
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The alien paused for only a moment, then continued on without giving the pods a second glance. When it disappeared around the corner, I realized I wasn’t breathing. I let out my breath in a rush, blowing it into Wendy’s long black hair.
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She apparently came to the realization that she was touching me and tried to wrench herself away—not an easy task with less than twelve inches of spare space between us.
“Why would you jump into a box that locks from the outside, you idiot?”
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I squished my body around her to reach the door. “It’s not like I knew when I came in. Besides, did you see anywhere else to hide?”
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I ran my palm along the door, hoping to activate the controls the way I had in the cargo area. Halfway down the door, the space around my hand turned blue and the list of cryptic commands appeared.
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“How did you do that?” Wendy pointed to the alien symbols.
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“I played around a little in the cargo bay. How did you get out, anyway?” I ran my fingers over the panel, hoping to find the open command.
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“Dad hid me in a secret compartment in the engine room. How did you get away?”
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“Mom shoved me overboard.”
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Wendy let out a cruel laugh.
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Something beeped and hummed behind me. I turned to see Wendy punching random commands on another panel, opposite mine.
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“Stop doing that. We don’t know what that stuff does.”
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“What’s the worst that could happen?” she asked. “We have to open the doors before big, glowing and ugly comes back. Just keep pushing buttons.”
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“What’s the worst that could happen?” I repeated. “We’re trapped on an alien ship. In space. I’d say the possibilities are limitless.”
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Wendy rolled her eyes again and went back to pushing random buttons. I reached out to stop her, but the pod shuddered and some sort of locks clunked into place. I pushed on the door, hoping it was the sound of freedom. Somehow, I knew it wasn’t.
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The lights inside the pod changed from blue to red and the option lists on the walls disappeared, replaced by one large character that transformed into something different about every second.
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“Nice work,” I said.
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Wendy shrugged. “How was I supposed to know that would happen? You weren’t doing any better.”
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I felt my face getting red again. I hated when that happened, because it always let Wendy know she’d gotten under my skin.
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“I was trying to think through a solution,” I said.
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The symbol swirled and transformed again.
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“If you hadn’t pulled me in here, we wouldn’t need to find a solution.”
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“True,” I said. “You’d be an alien captive, and I’d be happy. Looks like we both screwed up.”
The figure on the wall changed three more times, beeping now with each new change.
“Should we worry about this?” Wendy pointed to the bright red cryptograph.
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“I don’t know. It looks like it’s counting down to something. You figured out how to turn it on, you turn it off.”
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I sat down in the seat again, giving up all hope of steering clear of the E.T. germ factory. The second my butt hit the chair, the pod shifted, throwing Wendy into my lap.
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“What did you do?” Wendy scrambled up as if she had fallen into a vat of sewage. “Get off me.”
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“I didn’t do anything, and you were on me.”
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Red lights started blinking inside the pod and the beeping became faster and more constant. Then everything went quiet. The pod jerked and tumbled, eerily silent. Wendy and I stared out the small port window. The sleek spacecraft that had pulled us out of the ocean moved away, leaving us in something far more vast and empty. The emptiness of space.
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The pod wasn’t just a place to sit and relax. It was an escape pod.
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Lost in space … with Wendy Whitman. I should have taken my chances with the aliens.
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Chapter 5
Wendy screamed, resolving the whole eerie silence issue. She hit and slapped my head like a crazed kindergartener while I held my arms up and tried not to bleed.
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“We’re in space, we’re in space!” She shrieked the words at least half a dozen times before she calmed down enough to breathe normally again.
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I did my best to look dignified as I lowered my arms and straightened out of the fetal position to look out the porthole again.
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“Look, this is an escape pod,” I said. “Everyone knows escape pods have a tracking device so they can be found. Even life vests have strobe lights and that green dye that stains the water. Someone will find us.”
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Wendy did not look convinced.
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“Last time I checked, the coast guard didn’t respond to outer space,” she said, “and your green dye analogy is stupid. No one’s going to be out here looking for a floating green blob. And how do we know what this thing is broadcasting? This tin can could be sending out a commercial for a free lunch to face sucking aliens for all we know.”
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I bit back a comment about face sucking aliens and a welcome improvement to her looks.
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I can be nice, when I choose to be.
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“Of course, you don’t have much to fear from a face sucking alien,” Wendy added. “They could only improve your looks.”
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I really hate her.
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“Very funny. We should definitely keep insulting each other during this life-threatening tragedy.”
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Guilt was a trump card in almost every situation ... as long as the other person had the capacity for compassion. I knew it was a long shot, but I tried anyway.
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Wendy bit her lip. “You’re right. Truce—for now.”
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I nodded once and tried not to look shocked, then I turned my head to stare out the tiny porthole window. Now that we weren’t bickering, silence filled the cabin like a physical being. We were helpless, floating in the vastness of space. All alone in a way few had ever experienced before. Then we both jumped, hitting our heads, our elbows, and half a dozen other hard appendages against the walls, when our pod came to life in a sudden flash of light and digital whirrs.
​
Every inch of wall space became a display full of cryptic messages, multi-colored pictures, graphs, and star maps. Thin beams scanned the interior of the pod, then the screens shifted with a dizzying spin and a voice began speaking in multiple languages. It seemed to be repeating a message over and over, as if trying to find the one we’d recognize.
​
Estatuko hizkuntza, landstaal, d’Etat, bahasa negeri, državni jezik, Staatssprache ...
I didn’t understand any of them, but I recognized them as human. Maybe French or German.
​
Then it said, “state language.”
​
Together, Wendy and I blurted out, “English.”
​
The computer stopped speaking and everything around us shifted again, making me feel a little vommity. The calculations transformed into numbers we could read, though not necessarily understand, and the cryptic writing changed to English text.
​
On the wall, the word “Searching …” flashed over and over as maps of star systems, planets, and colorful images scrolled by underneath.
​
“Hello?” Wendy blurted at the ceiling. “Are you there? Can you hear me?”
​
There was silence for a moment, then the computer answered, “Maximum recommended capacity exceeded. Fasten safety harness and prepare to jettison surplus organism.”
I realized I was still sitting in the seat.
​
Wendy’s eyes went wide. “No!”
​
The computer answered, “Now. Confirmed. Jettisoning surplus.”
​
“Not now ... no!” Wendy shrieked. “I said no,”
​
The pod hissed as Wendy screamed and thrashed. I didn’t have time to cover her mouth with something, so I did the only thing I could think of to save her life. I poked her in the gut.
​
I didn’t poke her hard, but I caught her off guard and caused her to catch her breath, leaving me just enough time to reason with the computer.
​
“Do not jettison surplus organism. Computer, override jettison.”
​
Silence for a moment, then “Confirmed. Jettison aborted.” I smiled. “That was a close one.”
​
Wendy straightened up and smacked me in the nose. “If you ever hit me again you will be the one floating out in space. And just so you know, I would have dragged you with me.”
​
I held my hands over my face and grimaced. “You’re welcome. If it helps, you’re not really a surplus organism—you’re more like excess baggage.”
​
Wendy narrowed one of her eyes, but then she grinned. “Let’s just figure out how to get out of this thing alive.”
​
“Good plan, but I think the computer is already working on that one.”
​
As if on cue, the computer answered, “Target planet found. Range, optimal. Biological suitability, marginal. Prepare for acceleration.”
​
Wendy’s eyebrows shot up. “Marginal? What do you mean marginal?”
​
“Marginal,” the computer answered. “Still within acceptable range of survivability, although not optimal to your biology. Expand search for optimal locations? Caution. Expansive search may result in extended travel and rescue times. Life support limits may be exceeded.”
​
“No,” I burst in, speaking as clearly as possible. “Do not expand your search.”
​
I looked down at Wendy. “Maybe you shouldn’t talk to the computer anymore. I think she might be trying to kill you.”
​
“She’s just jealous.”
​
I laughed, but inside I cringed a little.
​
“Prepare for acceleration.”
​
Wendy and I seemed to realize there was only one seat to strap into at the same time. I started working the straps since I was already in the seat.
​
“I don’t think so.” Wendy reached down and started unbuckling the straps faster than I could buckle them. “I am not going to be mistaken for excess cargo again.”
​
She tried to pull me out of the seat, but I spread my hands and legs like a cat headed for the bath. “Surplus organism, and I already fixed that.”
​
Things were about to get ugly when the pod settled the debate for us.
​
We accelerated at incredible speed. Wendy flew back against the door—and I pancaked right on top of her. The straps ripped right out of my hands, hardly slowing me down. I tried to keep myself from freaking out about being smashed together again. We were cheek-to-cheek, unable to pry ourselves apart, and she was probably sweating all over me.
​
Wendy sucked in short breaths, and I realized she was having a hard time breathing. My weight coupled with the acceleration was probably too much for her. I struggled to get my arms against the wall to push off. I wasn’t able to move exactly, but I did relieve some of the weight and pressure.
​
Wendy groaned. “Thank … you.”
​
“I’m … sorr …”
​
“Deceleration in three … two … one …” the pod jolted, throwing us back into the seat with enough force to clack my jaw together. Wendy ended up on top of me this time, but the force wasn’t as great. We were still pinned, but at least I could breathe.
​
Unfortunately, while I went straight back into the seat, Wendy had glanced off my knees and shifted up several inches before she hit me. Let’s just say it wasn’t her weight that threatened to suffocate me. I was glad I couldn’t see her face ... and that she couldn’t see mine. I strained my neck, turning my head to the side, thanking nature and God above that Wendy hadn’t been better endowed. I took in a breath and let out a gale of choked laughter. It was painful, and made it even harder to breathe, but it couldn’t be helped. I felt Wendy’s chest convulse as she did the same.
​
“Must … never … speak … of … this …” My words came out squished and far apart since my face was being crushed by Wendy’s rib cage—and other things.
​
Wendy laughed harder too, and then the pod began to slow, lessening the pressure so we could move again. Flames shot past the port window for several terrifying moments and the cabin vibrated as it hit atmosphere, then the violence subsided, replaced by a calm indigo sky.
​
Wendy slid off me and straightened her shirt. We looked at each other sheepishly.
“I guess we’re here,” I said. “Wherever here is.”
​
Through the porthole we saw a landscape so alien it could never be mistaken for anything on earth. The planet’s surface was a maze of rocky crags, valleys, boulders and spires. I couldn’t see any leafy plant life to speak of. Everything was a swirl of red, blue, and yellow. Moss, or mold, or some sort of fungus, covered every inch of rock, and thick fuzzy branches out of a Dr. Seuss nightmare jutted up from the ground.
​
Pools of steaming clear liquid surrounded by yellow formations reminded me of a trip my mom and I once took to Yellowstone National Park, though these pools looked deeper and the yellow formations much larger—like foothills of bright yellow crystals.
It was beautiful … and terrifying.
​
Right in the middle of the closest valley stood a gleaming cluster of bright blue structures that looked like buildings made of sapphire. The architecture was unmistakable. It was the same, in style and material, as the alien ship … and our pod was heading straight for it.
​
​
The escape pod shimmied and leveled out to land on a smooth glassy pad. Being bobbled around like a ship during a hurricane made my stomach churn, but I took a deep breath and did my best to steady the impending eruption. Wendy’s face wasn’t encouraging either. She looked even greener than I felt. If either of us lost our lunch inside this tiny pod there wouldn’t be enough wet wipes in the world to keep me from peeling this tin can like a banana so I could escape.
​
The ship settled into a smoother trajectory and Wendy’s cheeks gained a few shades of pink. Now that we both felt a little less barf-ish, I chanced another peek out the window. We were indeed dropping right into the middle of the alien base. Our upright angle made it tough to see, but I had a feeling we were about to step out of the cage and into the lion’s den.
​
“Now what?” A trace of The Wicked Witch of the West crept back into Wendy’s tone. “Where are we landing?”
​
“Looks like an alien settlement, but no one ... nothing … seems to be moving down there. I hate to say it, but we may be stuck in here until one of those alien rock-things lets us out.”
​
“What?” Wendy shook her head. “I did not hurtle through space in this sardine can just to sit and wait for some alien to come pluck me like a ripe tomato.”
​
“We didn’t exactly plan this little trip,” I said, “and the door won’t open, remember? Besides, we don’t even know if we can breathe out there. What if the atmosphere is pure carbon monoxide or something?”
​
“That’s stupid. Why would our escape pod send us somewhere that would kill us?”
“Maybe it thought we could survive long enough to be rescued. Remember the word marginal when it picked the place out?”
​
Wendy rolled her eyes. “Fine. You stay in here. I’ll figure out how to open the door and check the air outside.”
​
“That makes a lot of sense. As soon as you open the door, you’ll depressurize the cabin and blast me with your poison gas. Sort of like your breath.”
​
Wendy put a finger to her lips and pretended to consider. “I like the part about blasting you with poison gas. I mean, what's the worst that could happen? Maybe we should try it.”
​
“I should have let you try the atmosphere out in space.”
​
Wendy glared at me as the ship touched down with a thump and solved the debate for us. The door popped open, then the floor and seat tilted to form an unexpected ramp, dumping us unceremoniously to the glassy tarmac.
​
“Thank you for using The System Safe Escape Pod,” came a voice from inside the ship. “A signal has been sent to facilitate your retrieval.”
​
My eyes went wide and I held my breath, not willing to be the alien atmosphere guinea pig. Despite all her boasting, Wendy did the same. The gravity felt roughly the same as earth’s, and our skin hadn’t melted off, so that was a good sign, but saying the environment was cold would be like calling the surface of the sun a little toasty.
Wendy and I wore summer clothes. Her boots, leggings and lightweight hoodie fared better than my swim trunks, t-shirt and flip-flops, but when the temperature hovered around a thousand below zero, I doubted her thin sweatshirt made much difference. I thought about running back to the pod, but it wouldn’t do any good. The frozen, possibly poisoned atmosphere had already gotten in through the open door.
​
Wendy crossed her arms and set her eyes on mine. It was all I could do to look casual while my eyes tried to bug out of my head from the lack of oxygen.
​
She was going to win. We both knew it. Not because she was better than me, but because I had to know. Besides, if I died, I didn’t want to see Wendy gagging to death before I went.
​
I blew out my breath, planning to take in a small sip of air. In reality, I gulped in enough gas to fill the Goodyear Blimp. I grabbed my throat, retched, choked and dropped to my knees. The frozen wind pelted my face, so I stooped toward the shiny bluish-white landing pad, hiding my face from Wendy. I sucked in another theatrical wheeze and could not help but grin. The air was cold, but it didn’t hurt. The atmosphere seemed different, not quite right, but it wouldn't kill me in the next ten seconds. I could breathe ... for now.
​
Wendy grabbed me by the shoulder as I let out another gagging lungful and jerked me around to face her. Her eyes looked like boiled eggs ready to pop, and her face was purple enough to make her a candidate for Violet Beauregarde in Wonka.
​
I let out a laugh and doubled over.
Wendy gasped and kicked me hard in the thigh. “That wasn’t funny.”
​
“It was funny. And you deserved it for making me take the first breath.”
​
“Whatever, you’re just mad that a girl can hold her breath longer than you can.”
Familiar heat burned in my face, stifling the rest of my laughter. “Yes. You’re right. You are the champion breath holder. Why don't you go away and look for a trophy while I figure a way out of here.”
​
Wendy shrugged but never lost her grin. .
​
I did my best to ignore it and motioned to the glassy blue material under our feet. “This landing pad is huge. Do you think the big ship came here too?”
​
Wendy looked at the big empty space in the center of the pad. “Maybe, but it doesn't look like they’re here yet. Somehow, we must have beat them. Somebody should be around though. I mean, an escape pod just landed on their ... base or whatever this is. Why didn’t someone show up to investigate?”
​
I snatched Wendy by the arm and yanked her back behind the pod.
​
“What?” Her eyes squinted with annoyance, but then she spotted the welcoming party she predicted.
​
On the far side of the landing pad, an alien, much like the ones on the ship, weaved its way through a throng of black transport cylinders, similar to the ones I had seen in the cargo hold of the larger spacecraft. The huge glowing creature moved with a purpose, but he took time to check around corners and glance in empty containers along the way.
“There’s only one of them?” Wendy wrapped her arms around herself and shivered against the cold.
​
“That thing is almost seven feet tall and looks like it’s made of black granite. One’s enough.”
​
We watched as the alien moved closer.
​
“We have to do something.” I rubbed my hands up and down my bare arms, realizing my fingers no longer had any feeling. “If we stay here, that thing is going to find us frozen solid.”
​
Wendy grabbed my arm. “When it moves behind those crates, run.”
​
I didn’t have time to look. Wendy took off with me in tow. We sprinted across the open blue tarmac behind us. I could only pray Wendy had timed it right. A huge section of tall dark containers lined the outside of landing pad. We should be able to make it as long as we stayed out of the alien’s line of sight. Wendy led us down one of the long, high rows until we hit an icy-looking wall that teed off in both directions. I turned my head right and then left. Both ways led to a dead-end. We had run into a dead end.
​
“Now what?” I asked.
​
“How am I supposed to know? I’m trying to get away.”
​
“You didn’t know where you were going?” I threw my hands up and looked for another escape. The alien was still out there. It wouldn't be long before it got close enough to cut off any chance for us to backtrack and try another direction. At least the tall stacks of containers blocked some of the wind.
​
“If you didn’t like where we were going, why didn’t you stop me?”
​
“Never mind, let’s just try to get out of here. We have to go back and run for it.”
“Toward the alien? No way.” Wendy crossed her arms again.
​
I clenched my teeth and hissed through them. “We’re going right now.”
​
I grabbed her wrist, ready to pull whether she liked it or not, then something the size of a rabid hyena launched out of nowhere and grabbed my leg.
​
The thing was matted and filthy. I kicked at it out of instinct, but the thing shifted its weight and knocked me to the ground. I did my best to get away, but the thing was too fast. It had me. If I didn't do something quick, the big rock alien would be the least of my worries.
Chapter 7
​​​​
​
I scrambled backward, attempting to escape the little beast, but the disgusting thing clambered up my body toward my face. Scooting out from under it felt like trying to slip out from underneath a rabid cat. The thing had a hold on me and wasn’t about to let go. My germaphobe alter-ego went into overdrive and kept me from pushing the grimy thing away with my bare hands. I could only lie there, stretched out like an overturned turtle, hoping the little predator wouldn’t climb any further.
​
Wendy stood over me, looking more than a little amused. When she made no move to help, I risked a second look at the thing clamped onto my waist. Urgent little eyes peered up at me. The thing swept a hood made of rags off its head, revealing a dirty face and a head full of tangled red curls.
​
“Hurry. The guard’ll be here any second.”
​
The little girl couldn't have been more than eight or nine years old. Her pale, freckled face practically glowed now that her headwas no longer hidden by her makeshift cowl of dirty rags. The whole getup made her resemble some kind of demonic mop.
​
She headed back toward the wall without waiting for an answer. There, she pried at an unseen panel, revealing a small access door. I shrugged at Wendy and motioned for her to go first. I was filthy and freezing. At this point nothing short of raw sewage could be worse. And even sewage would be warm.
​
Wendy got down on all fours and followed the little girl through the access panel. I squeezed in behind them and just managed to pull the cover closed before the girl took off down an access shaft, or maybe a ventilation tunnel. She scurried along without making a sound. Wendy and I made enough noise to drown out a drier full of ball bearings. Our rescuer paused and looked back to give us a wide eyed, ‘you cannot be serious’ look, then she carried on at a somewhat slower pace while Wendy and I did our best to be quiet.We were in no way successful.
​
The inside of the vent wasn’t made of some high-tech sci-fi material. Alien HVAC engineers seemed to like tin as much as humans. Wendy and I made the shaft creak and pop like Fourth of July firecrackers, but somehow the little girl navigated the maze as silent as a mouse. A small amount of light leaked in from vents positioned here and there, but it was hard to see in the dim light. Theair felt chilly, but compared to the arctic weather outside, they were a summer beach in California. Unfortunately, the ducts smelled like a beach too.Old and musty, like laundry left in the washer too long ... way too long.
​
After a few minutes, the girl emerged into a large junction where several ducts came together. There were blankets, empty water bottles, and food wrappers tossed into the corner..Strange blue strips glowed along the ceiling, almost like a scotch tape version of a glow stick. they gave off just enough light to see.
​
Most importantly, blessed heat radiated in from the surrounding vent tunnels. It wasn’t Buckingham Palace, or even the Motel 6, but after the day I had, the little hideaway felt like shome sweet home.
​
“I’m Marianne.” The little girl reached out a grime-covered hand to shake mine.
​
I couldn’t help but recoil. My coping system had maxed out to shutdown status. I couldn’t force myself to grab, grope or grapple with any more germs for a while.
Wendy extended her hand and intercepted it instead. “I’m Wendy, and he’s a germaphobe.”
​
“My name is Zander.” I tried to smile, but Marianne’s hand made me think about my own. I reached for my meager supply of wet wipes.
​
“How did you get down here?” Wendy asked. “You weren’t on the ship with us, were you?”
​
“I was on my parents’ fishing boat when a spaceship came down and pulled us out of the water. Most of the crew jumped overboard, but me and my parents were below deck. By the time we realized what was going on, we were too high to jump. I hid on the boat, but the blue-rocks got my mom and dad. How’d you escape?”
​
The dirt on my hands came off in muddy streaks. I pulled out another wipe and kept rubbing. “We stumbled into an escape pod on the alien ship and it brought us here about fifteen minutes before you found us. Thanks, by the way. That thing would have caught us if you hadn’t shown up ... what did you call them?”
​
“Blue-rocks.” Marianne shrugged. “They’re blue, or at least they glow blue, and they look like rocks. I figured it’s as good a name as any. Did you bring any food or water? I smuggled some off the boat before they came back to search it, but I’m almost out.”
I examined my tidy hands and sighed with relief—until I noticed the streaks of grime on my legs and swim trunks.
​
“Are you going to take a bath with those things or what?” Marianne stared at me, face twisted in baffled amusement.
​
Wendy snorted.
​
I glared and pushed the little packet back into my pocket. So what if dirt and filth covered every pore on my body? I would just stop thinking about it. The sticky grime didn’t even itch.
​
I sat on my hands to keep from scratching my legs.
​
“We don’t have any food or water,” Wendy said. “We never had a chance to grab anything out of our boat. We just found an escape pod and rode it all the way here.”
​
“And there were no emergency rations in the pod?” Marianne asked.
Wendy and I blinked at each other.
​
“We didn’t think to check,” I admitted. “I guess we were too busy arguing.”
​
“You were arguing,” Wendy corrected. “I was winning.”
​
Marianne’s eyebrows drew together. “Arguing? About what?”
​
I looked away, diverting my eyes to the floor. “Who could hold their breath the longest.”
It sounded so ridiculous, even saying it to an eight year old that I felt compelled to explain.
​
“The ship threw us out after landing, and neither one of us wanted to be the first to test the atmosphere. I volunteered to take the first breath out of pure selflessness, but Wendy didn't care so I pretended to choke to get even with her.”
​
“Selflessness?” Wendy jabbed. “You don't even know how to spell it, much less do it“
“Maybe you two should try to get along while the aliens have us.” Despite her age, Marianne seemed the most mature person in the room.
​
I laughed. “It’s a work in progress.”
​
Wendy let out a little chuckle too.
​
“Good.” Marianne threw me a dust-filled blanket and a protein bar and then did the same for Wendy. “This, and one bottle of water is all that’s left so we’ll have to share. If you can stop fighting we can go out and try to find some more in the morning.”
​
I smiled at Wendy before I even realized I was doing it. I was about to look away, but a minor miracle occurred. She actually smiled back at me.
​​​​​​​
Chapter 8
“You’re an idiot.” Wendy threw her hands up and shook her head.
​
“Well, I guess that makes you a moron because you can’t even understand the logic of an idiot,” I retorted.
​
The morning was not starting off well.
​
Marianne slouched in the corner of our tiny hideout, gathering sacks and bags while she donned her rag lady coat.
​
“That is a freezing alien wilderness out there.” I poked a finger toward one of the stark metal walls. “At least in here there’s civilization. Plus, our parents and friends are here on the base.”
​
“True, and do you know what else is on this base? Aliens, and more aliens. These Blue-Rocks are not our friends. At least out there we have a chance to find something or someone friendly, and maybe some food and water.”
​
I smacked my palm to my head. “This is not a family camping trip. We’re not going to find nuts and berries next to a stream. Even if we did, they could be full of acid or Ebola or something. Oh, and they would be frozen solid—just like us, if we go out there.”
​
Wendy leveled an eye at me. “Ebola? Really?”
​
“You know what I mean.”
​
Wendy shrugged. “How can we know if we don’t try? Anything’s better than a bunch of hostile aliens. We should go see what’s outside”
​
“Mary,” I said. “You’ve been here a while. What do you think?”
​
Marianne gave me a look cold enough to freeze a deep fat fryer. “My name is Marianne not Mary, and I don’t want to be part of your stupid argument.”
​
I held out my hands in mock defense. “Sorry Mary-Anne. No offense intended, but I this isn’t a stupid argument.”
​
“This is a stupid argument,” Wendy said. “Because Marianne knows we should go outside.”
​
Marianne took in a deep breath and sighed. “If I tell you what I think will you stop fighting?”
​
I folded my arms and nodded. Wendy shrugged her agreement as well.
​
“Fine.” Marianne let her bags flop to the ground. “The aliens took almost thirty people. That means there’s food here somewhere. If we could defrost it, the first thing we ate outside would probably kill us. Zander’s right. It’s way too cold out there and it gets even colder at night. I know how to navigate these vents. If we can find some food in here, we’ll buy some time to come up with a plan.”
​
No matter how hard I tried to relax my cheeks, I could not keep the evil grin off my face.
Wendy glared at me. “Actually, that makes a lot of sense. Zander, if you learned to explain yourself a little better, we could avoid some of these senseless arguments.”
My grin faltered.
​
“I’m sorry Marianne,” she continued. “I should have asked you in the first place. You are very smart.”
​
Marianne beamed and bent over to pick up her bags again. When she did, Wendy stuck her tongue out at me.
​
“I have a genius level I.Q,” Marianne said, as if being a certified genius were as common as telling someone she had red hair, which really wasn’t all that common either.
​
Wendy’s face twisted in a skeptical grin. Even I had to raise an eyebrow.
​
Marianne saw our expressions and smiled. “It’s no big deal. I do a lot of home study.”
“That’s really cool,” I said.
​
Marianne shrugged, but her pride showed through. Maybe a little embarrassment too. She probably got teased all the time. She didn’t exactly look like the stereotypical popular kid.
​
“So, are you ahead in school?” I asked. “Will you graduate early?”
​
“A little. I’ll graduate high school this year. Mom and dad are looking at colleges, but it’s tough to do research on a fishing boat in the middle of the ocean.”
​
“Wait,” Wendy held out her hand to stop us. You are graduating this year? From high school? How old are you?”
​
“I’m eleven now, but I’ll be twelve when I graduate.”
​
“Wow.” I threw my head back, truly blown away. “Impressive. I guess we should ask you about everything from now on.” I grinned and gave Marianne a wink. “I’ll be lucky to graduate before I’m twenty, and I am pretty sure Wendy has her dad pay for her grades.”
Wendy took a breath to fire back, but Marianne backhanded me in the gut. “Next one who mouths off gets another one.”
​
I let out an exaggerated huff. “Just a joke.”
​
“Just help me figure out how to save our moms and dads. After that, you can kill each other as many times as you want.”
​
I rolled my eyes “You can only kill somebody once Mary. After that, it’s a lot less fun.”
Marianne drew her arm back for another shot, but I scooted back, shooting her a huge grin. “Okay, okay. No more teasing. Now can we go? We don’t have all day?”
​
I thought Marianne might try to hit me again anyway, but she hunched down to open an access vent and crawled inside. “I spotted a big room a few days ago, with lots of tables and stuff, but I was afraid to go in by myself. It’s probably a cafeteria, so it might have food.”
​
Wendy crouched down to follow Marianne into the vent, then jumped back, shrieking like a banshee in a blender as she smashed the back of her head into my nose.
​
I crumbled onto my butt, holding my face. Pain blossomed beneath my fingers and my eyes watered until I could hardly see. It felt like my sinuses exploded.
​
Wendy made things worse by scrambling backward to climb my shoulders and sit on top of my head. A couple of blurry shapes moved around in the vent, but my tears hadn’t cleared enough to see them clearly. Wendy tracked them both, trying to stay on top of me and behind me at the same time.
​
“It’s all right,” Marianne said. “Calm down. They’re harmless. They’re actually very friendly. I think this one likes you.”
​
“Well, I don’t like it,” Wendy almost screamed. “Get it away!”
​
I rubbed my eyes and got just enough vision back to see a small figure charge straight at us. Wendy shoved me forward, using my body as a shield. I barely got my hands down in time to avoid face-planting into the floor. I blinked and squinted, and as the creature came into focus, then I sprang back to a standing position.
​
It looked like a spider. A very large spider the size of a guinea pig or an overgrown squirrel. It had silky grey fur like a cat, a rounded abdomen, eight hairy legs, and most disturbing of all, a hairless dog-like head with pale pink skin and four unblinking, bright blue eyes. If someone visited a comic book radiation lab, crossed a spider with a Chihuahua and shaved its head, this is what it would look like.
​
Lex Luthor’s perfect pet.
​
I wanted to laugh, and I wanted to run, but they seemed to cancel each other out so I stood there gaping instead.
​
“Relax,” Marianne said. “I swear, they’re perfectly safe. They’re all over the place.”
“What do you mean all over the place?” Wendy stood against the wall, arms high and one leg up in the air. “You mean running around in the wild…in the ducts? IN HERE?”
​
“Problem with spiders?” I stifled a smile.
​
“Of course I have a problem with spiders. All sane people have problems with spiders.”
“I don’t mind spiders,” I turned to Marianne. “Do you?”
​
Marianne picked up the spider-dog, and it greeted her by licking Marianne’s face with a glowing green tongue. That even gave me the cold shivers. I didn’t mind spiders, but slime was another story.
​
“Look at that. He loves Mary. Maybe if you just held the little guy...”
​
Marianne took a step forward and pretended to offer it out with a mischievous smile. She was having so much fun she didn’t even smack me for calling her Mary.
​
“Keep that thing away from me,” Wendy warned. “I’m not kidding.”
​
Marianne cuddled the creature to her chest. “Don’t worry. She just doesn’t know you. She’ll come around. For now, you should probably run along.”
​
Marianne moved to the opposite side of the junction and opened another vent. The little creature scampered into the opening, but it didn’t leave. It just stood there, staring at Wendy with its four sad puppy-dog eyes.
​
“Look,” I said. “You hurt its feelings. At least you could say goodbye.”
​
Wendy gave it a weak grin and waved. “Goodbye, terrible creature. Marianne … close the stinking grate.”
​
Marianne shut the grate and gave it a tap to move the creature along. “I call them Rexnids.”
​
I laughed. “Nice. You should go into biology.”
​
Marianne smiled and made her way back to the original vent. “I like computers. Biology’s more of a hobby. Shall we try this again?”
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I looked at Wendy and felt more than a little sorry for her. I had some experience with screwed-up phobias. “Let Marianne take the lead, and I’ll bring up the rear. That way you’ll be between us if more Rexnids show up.”
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Wendy didn’t look convinced.
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“Try and put the fear out of your mind. Think about it in a logical way. The Rexnid won’t hurt you. Marianne proved that. The other aliens live here with them, which means they won’t hurt us either.”
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I hoped not, anyway.
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“It’s not a cure,” I hurried on, “but that’s how I push through my germ thing when it gets bad. I try to remember that millions of people live with the same germs, so I can too.”
Wendy didn’t look more confident; in fact, she now looked guilty.
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“I’m sorry,” she said. “I’ve been pretty rotten ... about the germ stuff, I mean.”
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I gave her a guilty smile. “I haven’t been a prince to you either. I’m not even sure why we do this anymore.”
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The guilt etched on Wendy’s face deepened, but I didn’t press it. “We’ll get through this okay, don’t worry.”
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Wendy nodded. “Okay.”
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Marianne stooped into the air duct, backed out again, and ran back to her blanket, where she grabbed something and tucked it into her pants.
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She returned to the vent. “Sorry, let’s go.”
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Before I could ask, she ducked back into the opening. Wendy followed, her eyes searching every inch of the interior. I shrugged and then ducked in too, shutting the door behind me.
Chapter 9
As my eyes adjusted darkness, I wondered about the other creatures that lurked in the small shadowy spaces of this alien planet. Somehow, I doubted they were all as friendly as the chihuahua-faced Rexnid. Once I could see, things didn’t get much better.
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Some of the ducts were so tight we had to lie flat and scoot on our stomachs in the dust, dirt ... I didn't even want to know what else I might be breathing in. If I thought about it too much it would give the germaphobe inside me a full-on stroke.
I managed to keep it together but if Wendy had another freak out session, or if we ran into something unfriendly, I am sure we would tear the ventilation system out of the ceiling trying to escape. Not really a ninja style infiltration. Thankfully, the trip to Marianne’s cafeteria turned out to be short and critter free.
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Human voices began to drift through the shaft when we drew close. The sound urged us on, and we hurried forward until the narrow metal passage widened into a large return vent at floor level.
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Marianne scooted right up to the big opening. I grabbed Wendy’s arm and held her back, when I saw the light from the dining room flood in and reveal Marianne’s face. Marianne looked back at us and must have recognized my concern, then motioned us forward anyway.
“The vents let air pass through, but you can’t see in from the outside,” she whispered. “I don’t know how the technology works, but we’re invisible as long as the cover is closed. Keep your voices down, though. Sound travels both ways.”
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I remembered the grate at the landing pad. That explained why I didn’t see Marianne on the landing pad until she wrapped herself around my legs like a rabid wolverine.
The return shaft was larger than the rest of the ducts, but still too narrow for three of us to sit side by side. I peered over Marianne’s head while Wendy scooted up next to her at the vent.
​
As Marianne said, the room was huge. Rows of nearly-human looking tables lined the polished blue floor. Like everything else, they seemed a little too large and blocky for the humans sitting there. But there were people. Everyone on the cruise appeared to be there, along with the crew… and my mom.
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She sat at a table talking with someone I didn’t recognize. She seemed relaxed, but determined. Just like Mom; working the angles, recruiting allies and figuring out a plan. And her plans always worked out, no matter what it took or who she had sacrifice. That drive carried her far in the corporate world, and it was also why I disappointed her. I refused to bend and squeeze people to get ahead. But if I could get us out of this mess, maybe she’d understand there was another way.
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A breeze raised goose bumps along my arms and legs. The icy metal floor didn’t help either. Shorts and a t-shirt weren’t cutting it in this meat locker. I had to find something better to wear or hope these aliens had a cure for frostbite.
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“Why is your mom just sitting there?”
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Wendy’s tone only inflamed my inner irritation toward my mom.
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“What do you want her to do? Jump up and scratch the aliens’ eyes out? Everyone’s sitting there.”
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Wendy curled her upper lip. “Sorry. I just don’t understand why no one’s doing anything. I only see one guard.”
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“What if they killed him, or took him prisoner,” Marianne said. “Then what? They’re still stuck on an alien planet surrounded by giant, Blue-Rocks with weapons.”
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Wendy and I both raised an eyebrow at her.
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“Fair point,” I said, “but I think Wendy meant she’s frustrated that no one’s doing anything at all.”
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Something on the far side of the tables caught my eye. At first it looked like a kid, but the thing was big. Not tall, just big ... around.
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When the creature cleared the table, I recoiled.
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“What is that?” I pointed.
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Wendy followed my gaze. Her expression mirrored the twist of pity and disgust I felt in the pit of my stomach.
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“I call them Munchkin Monsters,” Marianne whispered. “They’re always around but they never talk or anything. I don’t know what they do, but I don’t trust them.”
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The creature had a kind-looking face, with babyish cheeks and lips, huge black doe eyes and lashes long enough to make any teeneage girl faint with jealousy. It looked cartoonishly human. However, that’s where the endearing part ended. The creature’s body sagged, squat and fat, but not like a baby ... more like fifty years of beer and extra-greasy bacon. Its arms seemed disproportionately long, but sinewy muscle ran like cords beneath the thick pale skin.
The monstrosity balanced on squat, short legs that turned its gait into a waddle a little like a chimp or a gorilla, and every bit of the Munchkin Monster’s anatomy was prominently displayed for all to behold. There were a thankful number of chairs and tables blocking what might be some rather disturbing details about Munchkin Monster’s nether regions, but the short pinkish alien did not wear a stitch of clothing.
​
The docile creature carried a glass-covered tray and served some sort of drink to the tables. My mom took one and thanked the butt-naked monster as if she were back on the ship accepting a martini from a waiter. The creature did not acknowledge her. Rather the Munchkin Monster simply moved on to the next person at the table. Now that I’d noticed the first Munchkin Monster, I realized there were several more roaming the cafeteria acting as a serving staff. They weren’t armed, and definitely belonged to a different race than the Blue-Rocks.
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Wendy and I looked on in shock or astonishment but Marianne searched the crowd with silent intensity.
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“Do you see your parents?” The moment I mentioned them, tears welled into her eyes, and she shook her head.
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“I’m sorry,” I said. “Don’t worry. I’m sure they’re just somewhere else. Everyone here showed up with us. You and your parents arrived before we did.”
I laid a hand on her shoulder and gave it a little squeeze.
​
“Speaking of which,” I continued, “Wendy, do you see your dad?”
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“I can’t find him. I see everyone else, but Dad’s not here.” Wendy grinned. “He won’t be sitting around doing nothing. I bet he caused trouble and tried to escape. Maybe he did escape. Either way, he won’t take any crap, and he won’t leave his people behind. He’ll be a thorn in their side until we free everyone and get away.”
​
I didn’t bother to mention the best way to get rid of a thorn was to yank it out nor did I call attention to the Blue-Rocks' giant thorn removing guns.
​
A door on the far side of the cafeteria opened and another Blue-Rock alien entered, accompanied by three humans. The people chatted as if they were on a walk in the park. Even the Blue-Rock joined the conversation.
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The alien’s speech sounded something like a European language being played backward, mixed with occasional growls and grunts. Even stranger, the three people seemed to understand every word. At one point, they even laughed at the Blue-Rock’s story.
Wendy’s jaw dropped open. She recognized one of the jovial three at the same time I did. One of the men was her father.
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“Next group, please?” Evan Whitman, Wendy’s dad, pointed to a table of uncomfortable-looking people. “Please, don’t be afraid. Nothing is going to happen to you. I promise. The serum is harmless, and the tour is only a demonstration and discussion. You are free to make your own decisions afterward, but you need all the facts first.”
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“What facts?” Wendy said.
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“Mom, Dad.” Marianne stared at the other two people walking with the alien.
They sported very different attire from the rest of the people in the room: boots and sturdy, well-worn pants. The woman wore a red sweater and the man, a green button-down shirt rolled up at the sleeves. Both had bright red hair, precisely the color of Marianne’s.
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“Mom, Dad!” Marianne called louder.
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Wendy rolled and I made a grab for Marianne, but it was too late. She cried out again, “I’m here!”
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Marianne no longer looked like a self-assured genius. The moment she saw her parents, Marianne transformed into a lost eleven-year-old girl.
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She pushed at the grate. Wendy managed to shove her backward down the shaft before she opened it, but when we looked back into the cafeteria, we saw humans and aliens headed for the wall.
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I turned to Wendy. “Time to run.”
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