I looked over at Alistair, and he looked like a completely normal kid. Was Alistair really an alien—or was this a big joke? Once again, I felt confused—torn between thinking Alistair was a genius and wondering whether he might be a little crazy.
There was definitely evidence supporting Alistair’s story. On the other hand, it was just so hard to believe.
Suddenly, a hand reached in front of me. Before I knew it, the hand snatched both Alistair’s secret note and my “weird kid vs. alien” list.
“Whatcha got here, Dano?!” Once again, Chauncey had managed to sneak up behind me.
I tried to grab the letter back, but I wasn’t fast enough. Chauncey waved Alistair’s secret letter in the air.
“A secret!” he said loudly. “How very interesting!”
I kept trying to tear the letter from his hand, but Chauncey has very long, apelike arms and he kept switching the note from hand to hand.
So much for Alistair’s big secret, I thought.
But then something amazing happened: Alistair’s note self-destructed right in Chauncey’s hand. I’m completely serious: The letter simply vanished into thin air! There was a POP!, and the next thing I knew, Chauncey held nothing in his hand except a little mound of white dust that looked like a bit of flour or sawdust.
“Ow!” Chauncey yelled. “Hey!”
I stared and stared at Chauncey’s empty hand. Where had the letter and my note gone? Did Alistair make that happen? And if so, how?!
“Mr. Binns?” Chauncey yelled. “Daniel brought some kind of inappropriate explodingpaper-magic-trick thingy into the classroom, and it burned my hand!”
“Sit down, Chauncey.” Mr. Binns sighed. He was used to Chauncey tattling that someone had injured him on purpose.
“But I’m serious, Mr. Binns!” Chauncey insisted.
I caught Alistair’s eye and mouthed a silent question: HOW?
Alistair pointed to his special watch—the “magic” watch.
Wow, I thought. So Alistair’s watch can do more than make objects fly. It can make things disappear. No wonder he didn’t want people to use it!
And then I realized that I believed Alistair’s story. After all, I thought, I don’t know any human kids who could make a note self-destruct at the exact moment when the wrong person tries to read it!
I gave Alistair a thumbs-up signal and Alistair smiled.
Chauncey noticed and narrowed his eyes, scowling at us.
So Alistair really is an alien! I thought. I had to admit it was pretty exciting to think that I was friends with a real alien—an alien who trusted nobody with his secret identity!
But then I thought of Iggy and his possibly mutated DNA from an alien virus. I thought of Iggy tearing the door off our van. And suddenly I felt a whole lot more worried than excited.
“WHY DO THEY call the Blaronite spaceship ‘Spaceship Bumblepod’?” I asked.
Alistair and I sat on my front porch, waiting for my mom to come home with Iggy and Dottie. I didn’t want to offend Alistair, but I thought the name Spaceship Bumblepod sounded like something that might crash into asteroids or go on really dumb missions.
“I’m not sure how it got the name,” said Alistair, “but it’s home away from home for a lot of Blaronites when they’re on missions in search of frackenpoy.”
Alistair lifted open one of the little screens on his watch and revealed what looked like hundreds of tiny, glowing bubbles that moved around in different directions.
“What are those?” I asked.
“That’s the Blaronite language,” he explained.
“The Blaronite language is made of bubbles?”
“A lot of our technology is bubble powered,” he explained, “and this part of the watch is for communications between Earth and Spaceship Bumblepod.”
Alistair observed the little floating bubbles that were zipping around, forming different shapes and patterns. “They say that as soon as Iggy gets here, the three of us should get into a single container together so they can transport us up to Spaceship Bumblepod.” Alistair snapped the face of his watch shut. “That Gobblebox you showed me in your parents’ room would work.”
I looked at the complicated buttons and screens on Alistair’s watch. “So—what else can you do with that watch?”
Alistair hesitated. “You’re asking about classified information.”
“But I’ve already seen how you can turn Technoblok models into flying robots and how you make a piece of paper disappear into thin air with that watch. Come on; I promise I’ll keep it a secret.”
“Okay,” said Alistair, “this watch is the most valuable thing I own. It’s a communications system, a transport device, an instant-robot generator, and a weapons system for emergencies. It can energize and activate inanimate objects. It can incinerate things or send them into other dimensions or to distant galaxies.”
“That’s all?” I was kidding, but Alistair obviously didn’t think my joke was funny. He frowned and pointed the watch at my bicycle, which happened to be leaning against the front porch. As Alistair pushed a button on his watch, my bike’s handlebars and pedals turned into spinning propellers.
I jumped to my feet and watched my bike rise up into the sky like a small helicopter. It circled the chimney of my house before landing on the roof.
“Cool! Hey, Alistair! Make the bike fly back down here for a second so I can climb on it for a ride!” I thought it would be pretty fun to fly on a helicopter-bike over my neighborhood.
Alistair pressed another button on his watch and the bike lifted itself from the roof, hovered in the air for a moment, and then gently settled on the ground in front of us.
I jumped onto my bike, but Alistair had apparently changed his mind about letting me fly on it.
“No,” he said. “We shouldn’t play around with this watch anymore. It’s too dangerous.”
“Just one quick ride?” I begged. “Please?”
“Someone might see, and then they’d try to steal the watch,” said Alistair. “It would be terrible for everyone if this watch ever fell into the wrong hands.”
“Why?” I asked. “I mean, I realize you don’t want anyone to know that you’re an alien, but—”
“Trust me,” said Alistair, looking very upset. “If the wrong person took this watch, it would be the very WORST thing that could happen!”
BEFORE I COULD ASK Alistair more questions, my mom pulled up in front of the house. Iggy and Dottie burst from the van and ran to greet me and Alistair: “DANOOOO!! AWISTAIR!!!!”
Iggy suddenly stopped in his tracks. He looked up at the large maple tree in our front yard and jumped amazingly high, grabbing a leafy twig. When he landed he began to chew on the bark.
“Hmmm,” said Alistair, observing Iggy. “We’d better transport him to the Bumblepod as quickly as possible so they can take a look at him.”
My mom turned from opening the front door and spied Iggy chewing on tree bark. “Iggy, get that branch out of your mouth!” she said. “Honestly, I don’t know what’s come over you today. . . . After you have a normal snack you can go back outside and help Dad and me rake the yard if you want to do something with leaves.”
“Hello, Iggy!” Alistair grabbed Iggy’s arm as Iggy walked into the house. “Come with me and Daniel. We have something really interesting to show you upstairs!”
Iggy nodded. “OKAY, AWISTAIR!”
“Shhhh. We have to be quiet because it’s a secret.”
Iggy put his finger over his lips. “I be quiet.”
While Dottie and my mom went into the kitchen, Iggy, Alistair, and I snuck upstairs to the Gobblebox in my mom’s closet. My heart pounded: I could hardly believe that in a matter of minutes I might actually be in outer space, aboard an alien spacecraft.
“Where we going, Dano?” Iggy whispered.
“We’re playing a fun game called Spaceship Bumblepod,” I told him. “First we sneak into Mom and Dad’s room and climb into the Gobblebox.”
“DA GOBBO-BOX? Oh, AWESOME!”
“Next, we get to visit a real spaceship!”
“OH, DAT SO ’MAZING!!”
“Sh!” I hissed. “If Mom finds us sneaking up here, we’ll be in trouble!”
We tiptoed into my parents’ room, then made our way toward my mom’s closet.
“Now we open da BERFDAY presents, right, Dano?”
“No, Iggy, we’re not sneaking birthday presents. We’re playing a new game called Spaceship Bumblepod, remember?”
“Oh boy!” Iggy clapped his hands.
But when I pushed open my mom’s closet door, Iggy froze and shook his head. “Scary!” he whimpered.
“Iggy, that’s just the box where Mom and Dad hid our toys,” I explained.
Iggy stamped his foot. “I NOT going touch it.”
STOMP, STOMP, STOMP. . . . We heard my dad trudging upstairs.
“Quick!” Alistair whispered. “Climb in the box!”
Alistair and I jumped into the Gobblebox, but Iggy hesitated.
“Come on, Iggy!” I whispered, “We’ll get in big trouble if Dad finds us up here!”
Iggy finally climbed into the box and stepped on my hand.
“Ow!” I hissed.
“Sowwee, Dano.”
We crouched down on top of a pile of plastic models. It wasn’t very comfortable in there, but I was still really happy to see my Vortex Chariot again, even though it was broken.
“Iggy?” Dad called. “Are you up here? I’m going outside to rake leaves now!”
“Sh!” I whispered.
“They’re not upstairs,” I heard my dad call to my mom as he walked back down the steps. “I think they went back outside to play. . . .”
Alistair lifted the communications screen on his watch. I saw those tiny, glowing bubbles racing around, and I suddenly felt very nervous about this whole “space transport” idea. I mean, what if the three of us ended up all mixed up, with our feet where our hands should be—or our brains switched into one another’s bodies? I had seen stuff like that happen in cartoons about space travel, and maybe it was possible in real life, too. Besides, Alistair didn’t exactly have a good safety track record so far. I mean, if he hadn’t left his alien bug-catching equipment in a little kid’s room, we wouldn’t even need to transport Iggy onto the Spaceship Bumblepod.
“Alistair,” I said, “are you sure this is safe?”
“Don’t worry,” said Alistair. “Interstellar transport accidents are only about one in a million these days.”
“But what if that one-in-a-million accident happens to us?”
Alistair didn’t answer; he just pressed a secret button on the transport screen of his watch.
“Hey! What dat AWESOME watch doos?” Iggy reached for Alistair’s watch, but something very strange happened before he could grab it.
My heart froze as a beam of light surrounded Iggy.
“What dat light?” Iggy asked.
Iggy vanished. And before I could say a word, the same beam of light surrounded my body, and then Alistair’s. At first, I felt tingly and itchy, as if tiny insects were crawling under my skin. Then I felt as if I were floating; I could actually feel myself disappearing.
A moment later, I was gone.
I WAS VERY SURPRISED WHEN Iggy, Alistair, and I found ourselves sitting at a table across from my mom and dad. There was a weird assortment of food in front of us. We each had a cup of coffee, a can of whipped cream, and a bag of Goldfish crackers.
Where are we? I wondered, feeling kind of dizzy. What just happened?!
“Look, Dano!” Iggy shouted. “WE GET COFFEE! And GOLDFISH AND WHIP CREAM! Dat so YUMMY, right, Dano?” Iggy picked up the can of whipped cream and shook it. It was weird how climbing into a cardboard box and then suddenly finding himself in a completely different world didn’t seem to bother Iggy at all.
The room looked like a strange combination of our living room at home, a science lab, and a public bathroom. On one wall, I saw a row of shiny white toilets. Around the room was a drinking fountain, an assortment of machine parts and gadgets, and a gumball machine. On another wall, I saw some closed doors labeled with weird signs: UNDERPANTS, CONTROL, SUPERHERO COSTUMES, PRINCESS ROOM.
What kind of crazy spaceship was this? I wondered. Why were my mom and dad here? And why were they just sitting there, staring at us?!
“My colleagues on Spaceship Bumblepod scanned Iggy’s mind in advance in order to disguise themselves as familiar humans,” Alistair explained. “They didn’t want him to feel too scared by an alien environment.”
No wonder everything is so strange here, I thought. It’s like being inside Iggy’s nutball head. I suddenly realized that the Blaronites’ ability to scan human minds must be the reason Alistair resembled Zip Starwagon. Had he and his parents “scanned my mind” in order to pick a disguise that would appeal to me? And was that why Alistair owned so many amazing Planet Blaster models? The idea freaked me out a little, to be honest.
“Do you like the snacks we chose for you?” the alien mom asked.
“We picked some of your favorites,” said the alien dad.
“Well, more Iggy’s favorites,” said the alien mom.
“That’s true,” said the alien dad. “More Iggy’s favorites.”
It figures, I thought. Iggy probably would pick whipped cream and coffee for a snack if he could get away with it.
“My name is Miss Bubble,” said the alien who looked like my mom.
“Your name is Mommy!” said Iggy, pointing at her.
“You can call me ‘Mommy’ if you want,” said Miss Bubble.
“And my name is Mr. Stickyfoot,” said the other alien, who looked like my dad. “Welcome to the Spaceship Bumblepod—our home away from home.”
“Miss Bubble and Mr. Stickyfoot are Chief Medical Experts on Spaceship Bumblepod,” Alistair explained.
“Nice to meet you,” I said.
“And you as well, Daniel,” said Mr. Stickyfoot. “Once we’ve examined your little brother and performed a couple tests, you’ll have a chance to visit Planet Blaron—our home planet—so you can learn a little more about us.”
Iggy eyed the alien mom and dad across the table, probably wondering why they weren’t grabbing the whipped cream away from him.
I knew what Iggy was thinking: This might be the perfect opportunity to just go for it—the long-awaited whipped-cream-mountain experiment.
It’s funny that Iggy doesn’t even realize he’s on an alien spaceship, I thought. All he can think about is that can of whipped cream.
“Now, Iggy,” said Miss Bubble, “while you shake that can of whipped cream, we’re going to take a look at you, okay?”
Iggy nodded.
“Iggy,” said Miss Bubble, “Alistair tells us you put something yucky in your mouth yesterday.”
“I eat bugs!” Iggy announced.
“I see,” said Miss Bubble. “What kinds?”
“Big ones, creepy and crawly ones, and yucky, ooey-gooey ones. And a ladybug. And bug candy!”
As Iggy spoke, Mr. Stickyfoot looked inside Iggy’s ears and nose.
Next, Miss Bubble and Mr. Stickyfoot reached into their pockets and pulled out fluffy objects that looked like giant feather dusters.
“What dose fluff balls doos?” Iggy asked.
Instead of answering, Mr. Stickyfoot and Miss Bubble lifted Iggy’s shirt and proceeded to tickle him all over.
Iggy squirmed and giggled like crazy.
“What kind of medical test is that?” I asked Alistair. Were Mr. Stickyfoot and Miss Bubble real “medical experts”—or was this just a game based on some silly idea in Iggy’s mind?
/>
“Those tickle sticks are actually our most advanced medical evaluation tools,” Alistair explained.
If this is what it’s like going to the doctor on Planet Blaron, I thought, I guess the aliens have it a lot better than we do on Earth! I mean, I’d take one of those “tickle sticks” over a flu shot any day.
By the time Mr. Stickyfoot and Miss Bubble finished tickling Iggy, he lay on the ground, gasping for breath, but still laughing.
Mr. Stickyfoot and Miss Bubble opened a metal box that looked like a small freezer and stuck the tickle sticks inside.
“In a few minutes, we’ll have a complete DNA report. Then we’ll take a look at the data and make our recommendations,” said Mr. Stickyfoot.
“Should we send the boys to Planet Blaron orientation while we wait?” Miss Bubble asked.
“Planet Blaron orientation?!” The word “orientation” always makes me nervous because it reminds me of the first day of school.
“I think they’re ready,” said Mr. Stickyfoot. “Alistair, you stay here so we can discuss our findings with you first. Boys—prepare yourselves to visit Planet Blaron!”
A ray of light surrounded Iggy and me.
“AWESOME!” Just before we disappeared, Iggy managed to blast Miss Bubble and Mr. Stickyfoot with a mountain of whipped cream.
IGGY AND I FOUND OURSELVES standing in an open field where row after row of green, clumpy plants grew. It looked like some kind of farm, but we seemed to be in a sort of covered greenhouse with a high ceiling. I bent down to take a closer look at the plants, and discovered that they were broccoli—or something that looked a lot like broccoli.
“What dat bad smell?” Iggy asked.
He was right; the air stunk like a pile of dirty socks. On the other hand, I supposed it was lucky that we could breathe at all, since we were on an alien planet.
“What dis place called, Dano?”
“I guess we’re on Planet Blaron.” I wondered if someone was going to show up and explain what, exactly, we were doing on this alien broccoli farm.
Iggy Loomis, Superkid in Training Page 5