Missing—One Brain!

by Bruce Coville

  I wanted to scream, only I couldn’t, because I didn’t have control of a single muscle. This made me want to scream even more!

  My brain felt like it was starting to itch. I wanted to explode from the frustration. I figured Brianna would escape with the Grandfatherly One, and I would be found lying on the girls’ room floor… at which point everyone would decide I was not just a weirdo but a pervert as well.

  A pervert who couldn’t move.

  Suddenly I heard Pleskit come roaring around the sight barrier. “Put down that brain, you evil vixen!” he shouted.

  Brianna laughed and gave him a spritz with her spray can.

  “Don’t try that stuff on me,” said Pleskit firmly. Then I heard a crackling sound. Sparkling light flickered against the ceiling. Brianna cried out, then (from the sound of it) slumped to the floor.

  Pleskit must have zapped her with his sphen-gnut-ksher, just like he had done to Jordan on the second day of school!

  “Grmble! Grmmph, gemph, mmrrmm!” said the Grandfatherly One.

  “A moment, please,” said Pleskit with a groan. “When I have recovered I will untie your speaking tubes, O Venerated One.”

  I remembered that when Pleskit zapped someone, the blast sucked out all his own energy for a few minutes. So I knew he was okay, just waiting for the effect of the blast to wear off.

  I couldn’t see the scene, of course. But I could imagine it. I knew Brianna must be in what the Hevi-Hevians call kling-kphut, a blissful state of semiconsciousness where she would not be able to move for a while. Pleskit was either on his knees or on his back, waiting for his sphen-gnut-ksher to gather some more energy. And the Grandfatherly One’s BTD was sitting nearby, the speaking tubes crossed in a knot that muffled anything he tried to say.

  In short, everyone in the room was temporarily disabled.

  Suddenly the door burst open. “Pleskit!” cried McNally. “Pleskit, are you in here?”

  “Over here,” said Pleskit, his voice weak.

  McNally came around the barrier. “What the—”

  “I’m fine,” said Pleskit softly. “Just a little tired. You had best see to my friend, Tim. I do not know what Brianna sprayed him with, but the effect was serious. I hope he will be all right.”

  McNally knelt over me. “Tim! Tim, you okay, kiddo?”

  I wanted to answer but my tongue—like every other muscle in my body—had no interest in working. So I stayed silent.

  McNally shook me. “Tim!”

  I still didn’t answer.

  He pressed his ear to my chest. “He’s breathing,” he muttered. “Good heartbeat. Tim, I think you’re gonna be okay, buddy. You capisce?”

  I said nothing.

  “I’ll be back in a minute,” said McNally. He turned to Pleskit. “What’s been going on in here?”

  “Untie the Grandfatherly One’s speaker tubes,” said Pleskit, his voice still weak. “He will explain.”

  “Ah, that’s better!” said the Grandfatherly One a moment later. “Well done, kiddo. You, too, Tim—assuming you can hear me.” Then he launched into an explanation of everything that had happened.

  “You scum-sucking sidewinder,” said McNally, obviously speaking to Brianna. “I can’t believe I was taken in by your kid act.”

  “Do not berate yourself on that account, McNally,” said the Grandfatherly One. “I was fooled at first myself. Most species have a wide range as regards the age/appearance matrix. This deceptively juvenile-looking female probably had a terrible time in high school because everyone thought she was younger than she really was. That does not, of course, excuse her current treachery.”

  “Terrible time,” murmured Brianna dreamily, which was our first sign that the kling-kphut was wearing off.

  “All right, lady,” said McNally, and I got the impression he was kneeling next to her, shaking her. “Spill. What was that stuff you used on Tim?”

  “Stuff,” murmured Brianna. “Nice stuff make Tim fall down.”

  McNally made a sound of disgust. “How much longer before she’s able to talk normally?”

  “Probably another five minutes,” said Pleskit. “As for me, I am feeling considerably better. Let us leave this room of personal functions and alert Mr. Grand and the guards to what has occurred.”

  “Good idea,” said McNally. “But Tim’s going out on a stretcher. I want to be careful of him. Let me get the nurse. I’ll be right back.”

  * * *

  It wasn’t long before I was lying on the bed in the nurse’s office. And it wasn’t long after that when Pleskit came in and sprayed something in my face.

  I coughed and blinked. Suddenly my whole body was tingling with a pins-and-needles feeling. It was like when your foot goes to sleep, except it was everywhere.

  “Yow!” I cried, sitting up. “What did you just do?”

  “Sprayed you with the antidote,” said Pleskit. “Brianna had it in her backpack.” He looked very serious. “This spray was not of Earthly origin, Tim. I fear my enemies may be more numerous and more powerful than I realized.”

  I shook myself several times, the way you do when a chill runs down your spine. “Brrrrrr! What a weird feeling.”

  “Are you all right?” asked Pleskit, sitting down beside me.

  I shook my head and blinked a couple of times. “I think so. Did your Fatherly One get here yet?”

  Pleskit smiled. “He will be here soon. It is good of you to be concerned, especially after… well, after all that has happened. I am sorry that I doubted you, Tim.”

  I wanted to say, “Hey, don’t worry about it.” But even though I wanted more than anything to be friends, the words seemed to stick in my throat. I was still angry and hurt.

  “Please,” said Pleskit. “Can we be friends again?”

  I remembered what Linnsy had said to me when I asked her advice earlier, and how I had ignored her.

  I should have said something then.

  I had to say something now.

  “Sure,” I said. “Hands across the stars?”

  “Hands across the stars,” said Pleskit.

  We shook on it.

  CHAPTER 20 [PLESKIT]

  A LETTER HOME

  FROM: Pleskit Meenom, on the strange but interesting Planet Earth

  TO: Maktel Geebrit, on the beautiful but distant Planet Hevi-Hevi

  Dear Maktel:

  Well, that’s it. I hope you will not be too disturbed that my friendship with Tim has become such an important thing to me. One of the things I figured out from this whole mess was that there is room in the smorgle for more than one, that one friend need not displace another.

  As to what happened after we recovered the Grandfatherly One’s brain from the evil Brianna—well, once again luck was with me. I might have been in a great deal of trouble with the Fatherly One (a horrifying amount of trouble, actually), but the Grandfatherly One stepped in (as much as a disembodied brain can step anywhere) and bawled out the Fatherly One for not paying more attention to him. He claimed to be utterly satisfied at having been out in the world and having had “a lovely little adventure”—which is not exactly how I would describe such a terrifying incident, but I was staying quiet at that moment.

  Now I must tell you the strange, dark side of how things resolved. As I told Tim, it was clear that the spray Brianna used on him was not a standard Earthling device. When McNally questioned her about where she got it, she said, “The Boss gave it to me.”

  But she claimed she didn’t know who “The Boss” was, and nothing they could do would shake her from that story. McNally questioned her for a long time, and then consulted with the Fatherly One for an equally long time. We are almost certain that “The Boss” is another extraterrestrial trying to sabotage the Fatherly One’s mission.

  Sometimes I wish we could just go home. But it is not simply that the Fatherly One has a chance to make our fortune here. We have both—we admitted it to each other—become fond of the Earthlings. And we do not want to leave them un
protected from some of the other characters that might move in if we abandon our Trading Claim. Little do the Earthlings realize how important it is to them that our mission succeed; little do they realize what the alternatives are.

  Well, enough of that. The embassy is in the grip of nervous excitement even as I am writing this. Tomorrow, at last, Beezle Whompis will be arriving. I cannot wait to meet the Fatherly One’s new assistant. I deeply hope that this being will be more pleasant to deal with than the dreaded Ms. Buttsman.

  Tim has asked me to tell you hello. Like me, he is hoping you will come and visit sometime.

  I think you will like him.

  I know I do.

  Please write soon.

  Fremmix Bleeblom!

  Your pal,

  Pleskit

  CHAPTER 21 [MAKTEL]

  A LETTER TO EARTH

  FROM: Maktel Geebrit, on Planet Hevi-Hevi

  TO: Pleskit Meenom, on Planet Earth

  Dear Pleskit:

  Thanks for your latest missive. I love hearing about your weird adventures on that primitive planet.

  Listen, I don’t have much time now, but I have to give you two pieces of news, one good, one bad.

  If I remember correctly, you always prefer to get the bad news first, so you can use the good news to make you feel better.

  Okay, here’s the bad stuff. Yestereve my parental unit hosted a small gathering, a dinner party attended by three other beings.

  As you know, if you press a mizrick shell to the floor of my sleeping chamber, it is possible to hear most of what is going on in the dining room below. Normally the adult conversation is too boring to bother with doing this. However, after the group had been quite boisterous for some time, their voices suddenly grew hushed and low—always a sign that something worth listening to is being said.

  So I got out my mizrick shell.

  They were talking about your Fatherly One and his mission! Pleskit, things do not look good. Erglom Benzwemp, who is my Motherly One’s special friend, believes there are several other traders on Earth, all secretly trying to undermine your Fatherly One’s mission. Erglom also says that your Fatherly One has enemies in the High Council. Caution is advised!

  Well, there it is. Pretty nasty, I’m sure you will agree.

  Now for the good news. It is possible—just barely possible, but possible nonetheless—that I might be able to visit Earth in time to celebrate our Hatching Day! What a treat it would be to meet your weird new friends and see the strange and barbaric places you have been telling me about!

  I am still working on the Motherly One, but things are looking good.

  I cannot wait to see you again!

  Yertyop jig,

  Maktel

  SPECIAL BONUS: On the following pages you will find Part Three of Disaster on Geembol Seven—the story of what happened to Pleskit on the last planet where he lived before coming to Earth.

  This story is being told in six installments, one at the end of each of the first six books of the Sixth-Grade Alien series. Look for the next thrilling chapter in Book Four, Lunch Swap Disaster!

  DISASTER ON GEEMBOL SEVEN PART THREE: THROUGH CAVERNS VAST AND DARKNESS DEEP

  FROM: Pleskit Meenom, on Planet Earth

  TO: Maktel Geebrit, on Planet Hevi-Hevi

  Dear Maktel,

  I sense I am taking longer than you would like to tell the full story of what happened on Geembol Seven. But between all the craziness here on Earth and the fact that the memory is still quite painful, it is not something I can do quickly.

  Even so, here is the next part.

  You will remember I had been on Geembol only a few days when the Fatherly One took me to the Moondance Celebration. While munching candied waterbugs, I spotted a six-eyed boy who clearly needed help. I followed him to the waterfront, where I was pulled into an elevator hidden inside one of the huge pilings that support the ancient docks. It took me deep into the planet. The being who had pulled me in was a “construct”—a strange (and illegal) combination of biological and mechanical parts—named Balteeri. He and the boy, whose name was Derrvan, wanted me to hear their story. I agreed, despite their warning that to listen was a crime. But before they could even begin, something terrifying burst through the wall.…

  A horrible shrieking filled the cave. A blaze of harsh lights seared my vision. Derrvan flung up an arm to cover his face. As he staggered back, crying out in pain, I realized that, with six eyes, his pain must have been much greater than mine.

  The pulsing green creatures that clung to the cavern’s ceiling pulled in their tentacles and flattened themselves against the stone. If they made any sound of protest or pain, it was lost in the evil blare of the sirens.

  Half blinded by the sudden light, I could get only partial images of the invading machines. I did see huge drills at the front, spitting stone and sand as they whirled. Suddenly Balteeri grabbed me with one of his metallic arms and slammed me into the elevator that had brought us down here. I felt Derrvan jammed in beside me. An instant later Balteeri was inside, too. The door slid shut. After the glaring lights, the darkness seemed more complete than ever, though it was a welcome relief.

  The elevator started to move. To my surprise, we were heading down again. How deep into the planet were we going to go?

  “What was that all about?” I asked. My voice sounded small and frightened, which bothered me. On the other hand, fear was not unreasonable, given the circumstances.

  “The law units are after us,” replied Balteeri grimly.

  A moment later the elevator stopped so abruptly that it nearly relocated my clinkus.

  “Out!” ordered Balteeri. “Out!”

  Then, as if not trusting us to do what he said quickly enough, he pulled Derrvan and me out of the elevator. (Despite the fact that it was blacker than a catwump’s heart, I knew he pulled both of us because I heard Derrvan’s gasp and felt him bump against me.)

  “Where are we going?” I asked.

  “No time to talk!” snapped Balteeri.

  One of his mechanical additions began to glow. He kept the light low, so as not to blind us after the intense blackness. We were in a broad tunnel. Not far ahead sat something that looked like a small spaceship—an odd thing to find so far underground.

  “Climb in!” ordered Balteeri. He must have been carrying some remote control device, because as he spoke, the top of the vehicle opened. He vaulted in. Derrvan followed, scrambling up the side.

  I thought briefly about resisting but feared if I did they would leave me. Then what would I do? I had no certainty that I could work the elevator. In fact, the pursuers might even have destroyed the shaft, in which case I would be trapped in this deep, dark place forever.

  I climbed into the vehicle.

  The interior space held the three of us comfortably, though it would have been crowded with even one additional passenger. A restraining strap closed over me as I settled into my seat.

  Two of Balteeri’s mechanical arms reached forward to link with the control panel. The ship slid into motion. At the same time a set of headlights came on. Through the view panel I could see that the cavern stretched a long way ahead of us. The path, however, was not a clear one; fanglike stone formations sprouted from the floor and stretched down from the ceiling. In some places they had fused to make complete columns.

  I hoped Balteeri wasn’t planning on going too fast.

  That hope evaporated almost instantly. The ship shot forward, and I gasped with fear as we began zipping around the treacherous shafts of stone. But Balteeri was justified in his speed. Seconds later there was a glare of light from behind us, and a magnified voice roared, “STOP! STOP THIS INSTANT!”

  “Suck stone, scumface,” muttered Balteeri. A savage look twisted his face as he increased our speed.

  Fearing I was about to go into kleptra, I reached out to clutch something for support. What I grabbed turned out to be Derrvan. I glanced at him. His face showed the same terror that I felt. Yet he looked
excited, too. And angry.

  As I said, you can express a lot with six eyes.

  We were moving so fast the stone pillars were little more than a blur.

  “Does this tunnel go anywhere?” I asked nervously. I was trying to fight back an image of us ending our journey by splattering against a solid stone wall.

  “It used to,” said Balteeri.

  “Used to?” squeaked Derrvan.

  Balteeri smiled grimly. “If luck is with us, it still does. But we’ve got to get clear before I dare take us there.”

  “Take us where?” demanded Derrvan. I was surprised by the tone of command in his voice.

  “To the secret haven your father built for the constructs,” replied Balteeri.

  Derrvan gasped in surprise but said nothing more.

  Balteeri raised our speed even further. The little ship lurched sickeningly as we dodged among the stony barriers. More than once Balteeri flipped us onto our side to hurtle through a narrow gap. It was only the restraining straps that kept Derrvan and me from slamming against the cabin wall.

  Our pursuers began firing force beams. Their shots splattered against the rocks around us in bursts of multicolored light. Once I heard a roar of pain that sounded like rocks grinding together. A huge eye, round and yellow, opened in what I had thought was a boulder, and a paw the size of a small house snatched at us. Balteeri dodged it safely, but I heard the crunch of metal behind us.

  “One down,” said Balteeri happily. “Those fools should be careful where they shoot. Nimtargs don’t like to be woken so rudely. Ah, here we go. Hold on!”

  Suddenly we flipped sideways again and shot into a breathtakingly narrow passage—not that that slowed Balteeri down. After several terrifying minutes of watching stony walls that were far too close flash by in a blur, we burst out into an open area so vast that even with our ship’s powerful lights we could not see any walls at all. If not for the fact that I knew there were twelve moons in the sky that night, I might have thought we were on the planet’s surface again.