Aliens Stole My Body

by Bruce Coville

  My mother shrieked and dropped to her knees in front of me. “Rod, is it really you?” Her eyes got wider. “He doesn’t have a mouth! Why doesn’t he have a mouth?”

  What is it with this mouth thing? thought Seymour. You’d think you couldn’t live without one. By the way, I think she’s sort of my mom now, too. Isn’t that interesting?

  I didn’t answer him. My attention was all on my mother. I stared at her as hard as I could, thinking, It’s me, Mom. I’m all right. I’m not happy about this, but I’m all right. I missed you. I love you.

  I’m not sure why I was doing that; I knew I couldn’t get the words across to her. But I think it really did have some effect, because she got a little calmer. Tears still running down her cheeks, she put her hand on her chest and closed her eyes. “It’s Rod,” she said, choking on the words. “It’s Rod.”

  Mother’s intuition, I guess.

  She extended her hand, placed it gently on our neck. I could feel her fingers trembling.

  “My poor Roddie,” she murmured. Then she whirled on Madame Pong and shrieked, “What have you done, and how are you going to fix it?”

  Madame Pong spoke calmly. “Mrs. Allbright, we deeply regret what has happened to Rod. However, he sacrificed his body—which we still hope to regain—in an heroic attempt to save his father’s life.”

  Mom gasped, and I could actually feel her stagger. “You found Art? Where is he?”

  “At the moment, he is off trying to regain Rod’s body.”

  “Regain it from where? Who has it?”

  “It’s a long story,” said Madame Pong. “Why don’t you come back inside the ship, and we’ll see if we can explain it. It would not be good for us to stay here any longer than necessary. There is still the possibility that we may be intercepted by the enemy.”

  My mother looked around nervously. “Come on, Rod,” she said. “Let’s go inside.”

  Man, it’s like I’m not here at all, thought Seymour peevishly.

  Give her a chance to get to know you, I replied as we climbed the ramp.

  Grumbo was sitting on the floor, playing with Bonehead. “Fascinating creature,” he said as we climbed back into the ship. “Is this one of those cats you were telling me about, Madame Pong?”

  “You talk funny!” said Little Thing One, who was sitting on the floor next to Grumbo. “I can’t understand you.”

  “And he has a worm in his nose!” cried Little Thing Two. He turned toward Grumbo. “Show Mommy your worm! It’s gross. I almost barfed.”

  “That’s nice dear,” said Mom, sounding totally distracted. She turned to Madame Pong. “All right, let’s hear the story.”

  But before Madame Pong could begin, a voice came over the ship’s speaker system.

  “This is the Galactic Patrol. Identify yourself, and prepare to be boarded!”

  CHAPTER

  17

  Disgrace

  “YOU PROMISED US DIPLOMATIC IMMUNITY!” said Grumbo, glaring at Madame Pong. He looked both furious and frightened.

  “So I did,” said Madame Pong, nodding her high-domed yellow head. “I expect to fulfill that promise, too. But I cannot achieve that status for you magically. I have to present myself to these officers and explain the situation.”

  Grumbo settled down just a little. He glanced at Mir-van, who was standing with his arm around Nanda’s waist. They both looked nervous, but Mir-van nodded, as if to say it would be all right.

  “What’s going on?” asked Mom. She sounded really worried.

  “Good news, actually,” said Madame Pong, switching to English for a moment. “It appears the Galactic Patrol had another ship here to guard you after all—though why they didn’t intercept us earlier, I am not certain.”

  “This is the Galactic Patrol!” said the voice over the speaker again, sounding impatient, even angry. “Identify yourself and prepare to be boarded.”

  “Verify that it really is a patrol ship, Grumbo,” said Madame Pong, speaking in Standard Galactic again. “If it is, then you should do as he asks.”

  “As if I had a choice,” snorted Grumbo. He went to the console and touched a button that I recognized from my work with Phil the Plant; it sends an encoded radio signal between ships, confirming their identity.

  Grumbo glanced down at the console. “It’s a patrol ship all right,” he said wearily. Touching another button, he leaned forward and said, “This ship is the freetrader Grumbo’s Pride, as you know from our signal. We have come to Earth at the request of Madame Pong, who has high diplomatic status. I am now opening the doors. Enter in peace.”

  The door opened. The ramp extended down.

  A moment later four beings entered the spaceship.

  “These guys are weird!” said Little Thing One.

  Weird to human eyes, I guess. I had seen enough aliens by this time that these four didn’t strike me as being all that strange. Maybe even less strange than usual, since they were all built on the same basic lines as humans (you know: two arms, two legs, two eyes, that kind of stuff). Even so, they looked as different from each other as a collie does from a bulldog. Actually, one of the four looked quite a bit like a bulldog herself, since she had a mushed in face and big hanging cheek flaps. I noticed that she had an interesting-looking box strapped to her waist.

  The second alien reminded me of Quat, though I couldn’t tell if this one was male or female. Its scales were silvery blue, and it wore a suit that was clearly designed to keep it wet.

  I couldn’t really see the third alien; it wore a hooded cloak, and its face was deep in shadow. All I could see were its hands, which were gray.

  The leader of the group wore a uniform much like Grakker’s, so I assumed he was a captain. He was tall (for an alien) and thickset, with arms that looked as though he had been working out since before he was born. (Or hatched, or budded, or whatever—you could never tell about that kind of thing with aliens.)

  Weird as they were, the aliens’ looks didn’t bother me. What bothered me was the fact that they had their guns out. This struck me as being unnecessarily hostile. But I suppose it was like cops entering a suspicious building; they had to be ready for the worst.

  “Let’s see your documents,” said the captain, holding out his hand.

  He’s awfully cranky, I thought to Snout.

  No crankier than our Grakker, replied Snout.

  You’ve got a point, I admitted.

  Grumbo slid aside a panel in the main console and pulled out some cards. The bulldog woman took them and inserted them in a slot in the box she had strapped to her waist. The box pinged.

  “Documents are valid, Captain. But the ship is not cleared for this planet. They may be smugglers, or illegal traders.”

  “I told you, we’re escorting a high-level diplomat!” cried Grumbo, his voice desperate. “Tell him, Madame Pong!”

  The leader’s eyes widened. “Ah, Madame Pong. I should have realized.” He swung his gun back toward Grumbo. “You’ve chosen a fine one to throw your lot in with, you fool. This woman was indeed a diplomat. Once. She is now a renegade from the Galactic Patrol, and subject to immediate arrest.”

  “You promised!” moaned Grumbo. His voice was thick with panic and betrayal, and I thought he might start to cry. I felt sorry for him—though I felt sorrier for Madame Pong.

  Our diplomat maintained her calm exterior. “You are correct, Captain, that I am in renegade status. However, Freetrader Grumbo had no way of knowing that, and acted in good faith in bringing me here. I ask you to hold him blameless for his actions. I assume you are here to provide protection for Mrs. Allbright and her offspring. Believe it or not, that is my mission, too. As long as you can assure me that they will be well guarded, I will submit to arrest without protest.”

  “You can protest all you want,” said the captain. “It won’t make any difference. You know I have no choice in this matter. You are to be arrested.”

  He gestured toward Snout. “Can I assume that this is Flinge Iblik
, who was Mental Officer on the Ferkel before the entire crew mutinied?”

  “Guilty as charged,” said Snout.

  “And what is this!” asked the captain, pointing his gun toward me.

  “That’s Mr. Eyeball Guy!” said Krixna, her banana nose flaring with indignation. “Be nice to him, you big meanie!”

  The captain actually chuckled. “Is he yours, little girl?”

  Krixna shook her head. “He used to be,” she said sadly. “But now he belongs to that lady.” She was pointing toward my mother.

  “Ah, Mrs. Allbright,” said the captain, speaking in English now. “Do let me apologize for all the drama and disruption. We are indeed here to watch over you, and we should have intercepted this situation before it even started. For that failure, I offer my apologies.” Glancing behind him at the hooded figured, he added, “I will probably also be offering up the career of the officer who failed to detect the situation in time.”

  “I don’t understand what’s going on,” said my mother.

  “Hardly a surprise, under the circumstances. Let me introduce myself. I am Captain Bickler, newly commissioned to the good ship Merkel.”

  So they recovered our sister ship, thought Snout. That is good news. I hope the crew was all right.

  “It is my task to guard you and your youngest children,” continued Captain Bickler. “It is my hope to reunite you with you husband and your son. And, alas, it is my unpleasant duty to place these two renegades under arrest.”

  I thought Mom might point out that she and I had already been reunited, but I think everything was moving too fast for her at that point.

  The captain made a gesture with his hand, and the alien who reminded me of Quat stepped forward. It was holding a pair of blue rings. I recognized those rings; I had been forced to wear one myself the time that Smorkus Flinders took over the Ferkel. They were like high-tech handcuffs. Except instead of just holding your hands together, they pretty much paralyzed you from the neck down.

  As the scaly alien placed the rings over the heads of Madame Pong and Snout, Captain Bickler said, “Flinge Iblik and Madame Pong, I arrest you in the name of the Galactic Patrol for violation of Galactic Ordinance number 432.75.896, Galactic Ordinance number 51.6547.2b, and Galactic Ordinance number 14. You will be tried in Galactic Court, and judged by a team of your fellow officers. May justice prevail.”

  May justice prevail, thought Snout, speaking to me alone.

  Captain Bickler extended his hand to my mother. “If you and the children will follow me,” he said. “I will lead you to our ship.”

  “And the pets,” said my mother, who still looked confused and frightened.

  The captain nodded. “Of course we must bring the pets,” he said. He turned to the bulldog lady and gestured for her to come close. Speaking softly, he said, “Once we’re off the ship give that fool Grumbo a good warning, shake him up a bit, put the taste of fear in his mouth. Then let him go.”

  She nodded, and stood with her arms behind her back, waiting for us to leave.

  The scaly guy fastened a pair of leads to the blue rings he had put on Madame Pong and Snout. Each lead had a black box at the other end, about the size of a deck of cards. He flipped a switch on each of the boxes, then gave a tug at the leads. Madame Pong and Snout walked along behind him. I got the feeling they had no choice.

  It was weird to step out of Grumbo’s ship, into the autumn wilderness of our swamp, and see another ship waiting to take us in. The fact that the Merkel was identical to the Ferkel made it even weirder. Entering it was like walking into a house that looked exactly like the one you live in, yet knowing that the people you would find inside were not your family, but complete strangers.

  Mom kept a tight grip on the twins’ hands—which was just as well since there were a lot of holes on that rotting old platform big enough that they could easily have fallen through and disappeared into the swamp.

  We climbed the ramp of the Merkel. I glanced back at Grumbo’s ship, hoping the fat trader wasn’t going to get in too much trouble. Then the door closed behind us.

  “Well, that’s a relief,” said Captain Bickler. “I was getting really tired of this costume.”

  I felt a cold chill. Turning, I watched in horror as his face began to split down the middle. Slowly, as if something was pushing it from the inside, the whole body separated, opening like a sideways clamshell.

  “Ahhh, that’s better,” said a familiar voice.

  Out stepped BKR.

  CHAPTER

  18

  Event Horizon

  BKR HAD BLUE SKIN. INSTEAD of hair he had orange spikes jutting out all over his head. Other than that, he might almost have been cute, if his face hadn’t been pinched and twisted by his love of cruelty.

  “Well, isn’t this lovely?” he said, rubbing his hands together. “Let’s see . . . we’ve got a nice selection of Allbrights, two former crew members of the Ferkel, and a couple of weird little animals. We can jettison them later, if we need to. You and the twins should be enough to flush your son out of hiding, Mrs. Allbright. I’m quite confident that he will come in search of you.”

  He doesn’t know! thought Snout, with a wave of triumph and relief. He doesn’t have any idea that he’s captured you along with the rest of us, Rod!

  I had just realized the same thing. And the twins weren’t aware of me, either, since I had had my reunion with Mom outside the ship, and we hadn’t had a chance to tell them what the situation was. Elspeth could be counted on to keep her mouth shut. Mom was the one I was worried about. She had no idea what was really at stake, didn’t have a clue as to what Dad had stored in my brain.

  Don’t say anything, Mom! I thought, desperately wishing I could actually contact her the way I could Snout. Don’t let him know I’m here!

  She glared at BKR. “What in heaven’s name do you want my son for?” she asked coldly.

  I felt a surge of relief. She hadn’t spilled the beans.

  Her glare, which would have stopped me in my tracks, didn’t seem to have any effect on BKR at all. “Actually, I’ve got most of Rod already,” he said. “But that boy of yours is a clever rascal, and he managed to get away with one important part: his brain.”

  “What do you mean?” cried Mom, as if this was the very first time she had heard this information.

  Oh, well done, Mrs. Allbright, thought Snout. Keep him off guard.

  I was impressed. This wasn’t quite lying, but it was close. I hadn’t known that Mom could do it.

  BKR smiled. It was clear he had expected Mom to be both surprised and distressed by this news. It was also clear that he was enjoying telling her about it. Which made sense, given that cruelty was his hobby.

  Putting his little blue hands together, he said with mock sorrow, “I should be more specific. What Rod got away with was the contents of his brain. His brain itself is still inside his body. Alas, it’s even emptier than it used to be, and I don’t have any idea where the essence o’ Rod has gotten to. Perhaps my friend Snout can tell us,” he said, walking over to Snout and tickling him under his long, outthrust chin.

  Snout said nothing.

  Madame Pong spoke up. “How did you get the codes to operate the Merkel?” she asked. “Stealing a patrol ship is one thing. Being able to operate it as if it were still part of the patrol is something else altogether.”

  “That was my doing,” said the hooded figure. The gray hands reached up and drew back the hood, revealing a lean face with enormous, multifaceted eyes.

  I had seen those eyes before, on Planet Mentat.

  “Arly Bung!” said Madame Pong, her voice thick with shock and disgust.

  Arly Bung was chief of security for the Mentat. She was also, it was now clear, a supreme traitor, and an enemy of everything the Mentat and the Galactic Patrol stood for.

  “Don’t be so pious, Pong,” said Arly Bung. “After all, we’re two of a kind—renegades who have turned against the given order of things. You and your frien
ds rebelled against the Galactic Patrol. I rebelled against the Mentat. Traitors all, aren’t we, when you come right down to it?”

  That was cruel and unfair. Madame Pong and Snout had gone renegade in order to continue doing the job they had sworn to do. They had done it knowing the cost, accepting the price, for the sake of a greater good. Arly Bung had gone against her oath for—well, who knew what her reasons were? But it sure wasn’t for the greater good of the galaxy.

  I wondered if she had ever had a code.

  A high ping sounded from the console.

  “Ah,” said BKR. “Bonzetta has finished scaring the daylights out of those poor traders.”

  He opened the door. The bulldog-faced alien came stomping into the ship. She was smiling, which was a fairly terrifying sight. “I disabled their ship,” she said. “Then I set them loose in the swamp. You should have seen the weeping and wailing.”

  “That’s rotten!” cried Elspeth. “How could you do such a thing?”

  My insides hurt at the thought of our friends, who were now only two inches high, trying to survive in the swamp. I could think of several things out there that would consider poor little Krixna just the right size for a snack.

  BKR, however, was grinning from ear to ugly ear. “Well done, Bonzetta. I’m sorry I missed it. Now, let’s go.”

  “Go where?” asked Mom, struggling to keep her voice even.

  “Oh, to a little place I keep for special occasions,” said BKR. “It’s a fortress I’ve built for myself at the center of the galaxy. Interesting location, I think; it rides right at the edge of an event horizon.”

  “What do you mean?” asked my mother, who was holding the twins close to her sides.

  “You’ve never heard of an event horizon?” asked BKR, in mock surprise. “Really, dear lady, that wandering husband of yours should have talked to you about these things. Ah, men. They just don’t communicate the way they should. Money. Emotions. The nature of the universe. They ought to be more open about these things, don’t you think? Well, since that foolish Ah-Rit didn’t do his job, I’ll fill you in. A black hole is quite a lovely thing, a collapsed star—I love it when things collapse, don’t you?—a collapsed star with gravity so incredibly powerful that even light can’t escape its grasp. Anything that gets sucked into a black hole vanishes forever, squished down to an unimaginably tiny size by the magnificently destructive force of its great gravity. The ‘event horizon’ is the line you dare not cross, the point at which the black hole’s gravity has you and you can’t escape. And that’s where I’ve built my little hideout—orbiting the black hole at the center of the galaxy, riding just outside the event horizon. It gives sort of a special thrill to every day. Nothing has ever gone wrong, but, hey, you never know. One day there might be a slight miscalculation and thwooop!—there we go, sucked right into the black hole! Wouldn’t that be fun? Well, unusual at least. Of course, there are practical reasons to be there. If I ever get this little project of mine off the ground, the black hole will provide the power I need to make it work. So, you see, it’s not just the romantic in me that had me put my little hideout there. Oh, no no no. It’s utterly practical.”