George Brown and the Protector

by Duane L. Ostler

  “I figured it must be something valuable,” said the Protector casually. “That’s why I used the transformer to turn me into a bird, so I could steal it from you and lead you here.”

  “You were the yellow bird?” asked George in wonder.

  “Yep,” said the protector. “Actually I’m not normally a bird. I only became one with the help of the transformer.” He waived casually toward a little booth with orange curtains sitting next to the door. “It can transform anyone into anything. Very handy when you’re hungry and don’t have much cash. You can change yourself into a fly and get full in no time in someone’s kitchen – as long as you don’t get swatted!”

  The protector waddled over and put the parchment back into the bookshelf. “I had a visit almost a year ago from a Ziphon. I don’t suppose you’ve ever heard of a Ziphon before?” Seeing the befuddled look on George’s face, he continued. “Ziphons never say much, you know. Probably because they live sideways through time, so they never quite know when they’re going to be whisked off to yesterday or next week or last year or next Tuesday.”

  “Anyway, this Ziphon appeared right here on my couch and said in his gravelly voice, ‘you need to help George Brown. He will soon be called upon to help save his people from fire and ice.’ Then—pop!—he was gone.”

  “I had a visit from a Ziphon too!” exclaimed George. “Just a little while ago! He told me to find you—the protector. Only I didn’t know who the protector was.”

  “That’s me,” said the protector, puffing out his flabby chest in pride. “Looks like we found each other just like the Ziphon wanted us to. Of course, I found you quite awhile ago, although I had to follow you around for awhile to make sure you were the George Brown I was looking for.”

  “Then you were the bird that was following me around last year!” exclaimed George. “Did you get hurt when the teacher shooed you out the window?”

  “Not at all,” the protector replied. “Oh, by the way, sorry about those spots on your fingernails. I was trying to help you out with your rock crystals, so you could find some really impressive ones, and I guess I got carried away. You got a temporary case of crystal-itis – nothing serious, mind you, but very common where I come from.”

  “So you did that too!” cried George, looking quickly at his fingernails. “Is the crystal-itis gone?”

  “Yes,” said the protector, a little sheepishly. “Like I said, it was nothing serious. I thought the rock crystals might be important to whatever you need to do to save your people, so that’s why I tried to help. The Ziphon never told me what you’re going to do for your people.”

  “Why not?” asked George.

  “Ziphons are mysterious,” replied the protector. “They never tell you why. In fact, they tell you hardly anything. But it’s always best to heed their warnings since they usually know the future—they’ve been there, you know.”

  George thought for a moment. “So, the Ziphon told you I would be called on to help save my people,” he said slowly. “I wonder if this rock I found is related somehow to all of this.” He pulled the clear rock from the pouch and held it up to the light.

  “Gorzubee!” cried the protector, jumping back. Then, looking embarrassed, he said, “excuse my language, but that looks like an Uth stone! Where in the galaxy did you get it?”

  “I found it a few days ago next to a fallen star near here,” said George. “It’s helped me solve math problems and find a jar of pickled peaches at the store, and seems to have some mysterious power, but I don’t know how to control it. You say it’s an ‘Uth stone?’”

  “It looks like it,” replied the protector. “Uth stones are very powerful and very deadly. Little is known about them, and they’re very rare. I’ve never seen one before – most people never do in their whole lives!”

  The protector turned and headed for the mirror hanging in mid air by the entrance door. “Come over here and we’ll look it up on the View All,” he said. “Only keep it away from me! I don’t want to touch it. If I had known what was in that pouch I wouldn’t have picked it up when I was a bird.”

  George carefully put the rock back into the pouch, trying as he did so to touch it as little as possible. He had never thought of the rock as being dangerous before.

  Standing before the mirror hanging in mid air, the protector commanded, “Show me what you know about the Uth stone.” Immediately the mirror clouded over, and then some pictures and text appeared, looking very much like an encyclopedia entry. One picture showed a rock similar to George’s, while another showed – from a great distance – a very bright planet that seemed to be almost transparent. The text read as follows:

  Uth Stone: An extremely rare and dangerous transparent gem which appears to have unique powers. Only three such stones have been observed in modern recorded history, and the possessor of each met an untimely and tragic end under mysterious circumstances. The Uth Stone can only be obtained from the planet Uth (see picture). The planet appears to be solid, but radiates such an unusual protective shield that no explorer has been able to make a landing. According to ancient legends on nearby planets, only the pure in heart can reach the surface of Uth, and only they can take stones from it. However, this has never been substantiated. The nature and extent of the powers of the Uth stone are unknown, since all three of the previously mentioned stones perished with their possessor. See also, Uth, planet of.

  “Well,” said the protector after they had finished reading the entry, “that doesn’t sound very good for people like you who have the misfortune of possessing an Uth stone.”

  George found that he was gripping the bag holding the stone so tightly that he could feel the icy coldness of the rock even through the thick folds of leather.

  “But I wouldn’t pay any attention to it if I were you,” the protector said with a casual waive of his hand. “The View All has been giving me a lot of doom and gloom entries like this lately.” He leaned over to George and whispered confidentially, “it recently wanted me to string a bunch of Hollywood style bright lights around it to show off its so called ‘beauty.’ Ever since I refused, it’s been mad at me.”

  To George’s amazement, the Uth entry in the mirror disappeared and in bold, bright letters, the words appeared, “THE PROTECTOR IS A STICK-IN-THE-MUD!”

  The protector gave the mirror a smack and said, “come on now, that’s no way to behave in front of our guest. And that entry you gave us is too negative – give us a better one, please!”

  The mirror clouded over for a second, and then the words appeared, “WHY SHOULD I?”

  “Because if you don’t,” said the protector angrily, “I’ll put you in the darkest corner I’ve got and only ask you for an entry once or twice a year!”

  A billow of angry black fog filled the mirror, but then came the words, “OH, ALL RIGHT!” Then slowly a new entry appeared, with the same picture as before. It read as follows:

  Uth Stone: One of the most marvelous finds of the modern era, the Uth Stone appears to have unique powers which enable its possessor to accomplish amazing things. The stone originates from the planet Uth (see picture) which so far has defied exploration due to an unusual protective shield surrounding it. However, according to ancient legend, individuals who are pure in heart are able to reach the surface and remove one of the powerful Uth rocks. There have been only three known instances in modern recorded history where such rocks have been observed, but unfortunately in each case the rock was lost before the nature of its powers could be fully ascertained. The three cases are: on the planet Mulara, an individual by the name of Amar Mul used the mysterious powers of the Uth stone to conquer the invading Methes and free his planet from slavery; on the planet Zo, a tribe of Nrefs used the stone to overcome the deadly flying Nubats who could kill with a single touch; and on the planet Garon, a young Lemian used the stone to heal his race from a plague of Triots that had been brought to the planet by trade ships. Unfortunately however, the stone was lost in the process of each use, and
the one using it also mysteriously disappeared soon thereafter. See also Uth, planet of.

  “That’s much better, thank you,” said the protector, giving the View-All a gentle pat. “I knew you could do it.” A cloud of pink, embarrassed smoke appeared on the View-All.

  To George, the protector said, “Well, that entry sounded a bit more positive, didn’t it? In every one of those cases the Uth stone was used to help someone, rather than to hurt or destroy. We can look at the details later, if you want to know more about the Methes and Nubats and Triots. But I guess what we need to figure out now is what is going to cause fire and ice around here, and then figure out how your Uth rock can help.”

  “I suppose so,” said George quietly, who was still feeling a bit unnerved by what he had read on the View All--and especially the mysterious disappearance of those who used it.

  “I don’t suppose you have any idea who or what is threatening your planet?” asked the Protector.

  “Well,” said George slowly, “something happened the other night that might help.” He then described the night the rock had helped him see out into space and the evil dog-like creature he had seen, with his father standing in the background.

  “Hmm…” mumbled the Protector while rubbing his flabby chin. “That gives me a strong suspicion of who might be behind the threat to earth. Come over here to the Snorkfinder and we’ll see if you can show me the creature you saw.”

  “The snorkfinder?” asked George as he followed the protector across the room to what looked like an empty glass box.

  The protector laughed with a sound like sandpaper on ice. “You’ll have to excuse the slang. A ‘snork’ is just a common term for any unknown creature or being that exists in the galaxy. This little box is officially known as the ‘Intergalactic Index to Creatures Who Breath, Photosynthesize, Absorb, Leach, Parasite, or otherwise show evidence of Being Alive’—but it’s a lot easier to just call it the ‘snorkfinder.’”

  The protector sat down on a little mushroom shaped stool in front of the snorkfinder. He touched the center of the glass front and immediately it started to glow, first pink, then blue, and then white.

  “We could do this on the View All too, but as you’ve seen it’s been a little temperamental lately.”

  In the center of the snorkfinder the words appeared “Description of Creature Please?”

  “Go ahead,” said the Protector to George. “Describe it the best you can remember.”

  “Well,” started George, a bit self conscious at talking to a machine, “it was very evil looking—“

  Instantly across the screen came the words, “there are 23,467,952,152 evil looking species. Please be more specific.”

  “—and,” continued George, “it had a hairy, dog-like face—“

  The words now appeared, “There are only 1,197 evil looking species with hairy, dog-like faces, so you’re getting closer.”

  “And its eyes were strange, so it was hard to look away once you looked into them,” said George.

  The message on the screen changed to read, “There are only 15 evil looking dog-like species with hypnotic eyes—please choose from the following.” Then a series of pictures appeared on the screen, each one lasting about 1 or 2 seconds before it would change to a new one. George looked intently at each one. They all looked hairy and dog-like, and had a very unkind look in their eyes.

  “Gosh, I’m not sure,” he said to the protector as the fifth one flashed onto the screen. “They all look so similar. It could have been any of them.”

  “Well, there are little differences,” said the protector. “I’ll bet you recognize it when you see it.”

  By now more than 10 had flashed on and off the screen. But when the 12th one appeared, the hair on the back of George’s neck stood on end. It looked exactly like the one he had seen that night!

  “That’s it!” he said intently. “That’s what I saw.” He shuddered, then looked away. He could feel evil from it even though it was just a picture.

  CHAPTER 9: The Grak

  “I thought so,” said the protector with a grim smile. “That is a picture of a Grak, which is one of the most feared and most powerful races of creatures in this galaxy. I’m not surprised you saw one of them nearby. They’ve been causing some trouble lately.”

  “Trouble?” asked George curiously, with a sinking feeling in his stomach.

  “They’re always causing trouble,” said the Protector. “I see it all the time on the 6:00 o’clock news. Come here and I’ll show you.” He then walked over and flopped onto the couch (the claws immediately started scratching him again) and said to the empty air in front of him, “last night’s six o’clock news, please—the segment on the Grak.”

  Instantly an image appeared in the air in front of the protector. It was a three dimensional view of a three-headed newscaster, who was giving all of the current events across the galaxy. The image looked so real that George had a hard time believing it was a broadcast of a creature millions of light years away. He couldn’t see where the image was coming from.

  “…Boof Spinet, the intergalactic singing star,”one of the three heads stated in a surprisingly high pitched voice, “was found last night on the garbage planet of Moogbruth, nearly suffocated under a pile of manuremog. Authorities are still questioning Spinet as to how he came to be on the planet, although some observers speculate he went there to get some inspiration for a new song.

  “—and in other news,” said one of the other three heads of the newscaster, “the Grak envoy to the supreme parliament got into a brawl on the floor of the parliament chamber with the representative of the Noovian system. The argument was apparently over trade issues, and allegations by the Noovians that the Grak have seized control of three of their trade planets. This is the third fight by a Grak on the floor of parliament this year…”

  During this report the three dimensional picture in the air had changed to show a Grak fighting a pencil thin purple creature with 4 noses (all of which were bloody).

  “Disgusting,” said the protector with a snort. “That’s enough news, thank you.” The image in the air faded and disappeared.

  “Graks are always fighting and causing trouble,” said the protector. “They really shouldn’t even let them into parliament, but I guess they figured that was better than going to war with them. They’re quite a powerful race, you know.”

  Before George could reply, his cell phone rang. The protector jumped off the couch as if he’d been shot by a rocket. “Gorzubee!” he cried, looking around wildly. “I know the sound of every gadget in here, and that’s not one of them! What was that?”

  George laughed as the phone rang again. “It’s just my cell phone. My mom is calling. She calls all the time since my Dad disappeared.”

  The protector grinned sheepishly. “I knew that,” he said flimsily. “It sounded like a cell phone.”

  George punched the button on the phone to talk to his mother.

  “George?” she sounded worried. “You said you’d be back in an hour, and you’re not here! Where are you?”

  “Sorry Mom,” George replied. “I’m still at the park. I met this, uh, bird, and I lost track of time.”

  “A bird?” she cried. “Well look, young man, you’d better be here in 15 minutes or you’ll be grounded for a week! O.k?”

  “O.k.” said George weakly. “Sorry. I’ll be right there.”

  Clicking off the phone, George turned to the protector. “I’ve got to go now or I’ll be in big trouble. But there’s still so much I wanted to ask!”

  “Can you meet tomorrow morning?” asked the protector.

  “Probably,” replied George, “if I get home real fast right now.” He turned to go. “Will I really get bigger when I go through the door?”

  “Yep,” replied the protector. “I set it to downsize when you come through the passenger car window, and upsize as soon as you take a few steps past the door. So watch your head or you’ll end up jammed under the seat of th
e car.”

  George opened the door and looked out at the mountainous kernels of popcorn strewn across the floor of the car beneath the passenger seat.

  “Sorry about the popcorn mess,” said the protector in embarrassment. “Martin really likes popcorn, but he’s not too careful when he eats it.”

  “Martin?” asked George.

  “He’s my driver,” replied the protector. “I don’t like driving in this new, modern traffic, so I got Michael to do it for me. He’s outside on the park bench. You probably saw him.”

  “I did?” said George blankly. Everything before he came into the protector’s car now seemed so long ago. Then he remembered the man he had seen sleeping on the park bench opposite the car. “Oh, yeah, I remember now,” he said. “Does he live in here too? He seemed awful big.” George felt comfortable with the protector, but wasn’t sure he liked the thought of a strange man hanging around next time he came to visit.

  “He does,” replied the protector, “and he takes up hardly any space at all. But I’ll explain tomorrow – you’ve got to get going or your mother won’t let you meet tomorrow!” Then the protector gave George a little push through the door.

  As George stumbled forward he watched in amazement as a popcorn kernel the size of a boulder seemed to shrink and fade away from him. At the same time, his head smacked against the bottom of the seat. Twisting around George found himself suddenly at his regular size, jammed between the seat and the inside front of the car. Hearing a muffled sound, he looked down at his foot. He could barely hear the protector’s tiny voice yelling, “GET YOUR FOOT OFF THE DOOR!”

  George quickly moved his foot, and saw the protector, the size of a tiny toy soldier, standing just inside it. He yelled up at George, “You nearly broke the door with your foot when you expanded.”

  “Sorry,” said George. The protector covered his ears. “Not so loud,” he yelled up at George. “You have to whisper when you talk to someone my size, or you’ll deafen them.”