How to Save the Universe in Ten Easy Steps

by Allison Rushby

  Molly looks down at me as if I need a straightjacket. ‘Fate?! You’ve got to be kidding me. You believe in fate? Really? Did I accidentally transport us to the Middle Ages? There’s no such thing as fate. I mean, have you even noticed me trying to line everything up for you? Get you to the end of the universe on time?’

  I decide to let it go, because Molly seems almost as offended as that time I forced her to eat ice-cream to prove it tasted good. (She spat it out.) ‘Um, well, then, what do we do?’

  ‘Wait,’ Molly says, as if the answer is obvious. ‘That’s all.’

  ‘And, when the time comes, I …’ A little more information might be helpful.

  ‘How should I know? That’s up to you. Just think of me as an intergalactic courier. I’ll get you to the right place when you tell me it’s the right time. The rest is your problem. Well, yours and every other living thing in the universe.’

  I blink. I blink again. ‘I’ve got a lot of questions,’ I tell her. ‘You’re going to have to answer at least some of them.’

  Molly shrugs. ‘Okay, shoot.’

  Q: Are my parents really my parents?

  A: Sorry, yes.

  Q: What are your parents like?

  A: There is no such thing as ‘parents’ in my world. I was bred specifically for this task. And then raised.

  Q: By wolves?

  A: No, by my creator. Then by your parents. Which, frankly, is similar to being raised by wild animals.

  Q: If you’re some amazing alien, how come you do worse than me in English?

  A: I’m trying not to stand out. It actually took me three hours and thirteen minutes from birth to learn everything there is to know on the planet. I spend roughly 0.68 of a second per day topping up.

  Q: Can you change into anything?

  A: Yes. But I don’t do requests. So don’t ask.

  Q: Like, could you do an iguana? Right now?

  A: Sigh.

  Q: How about a woolly mammoth, then?

  A: …

  After a bit of a stare-off, Molly says, ‘Any other questions? As in, real ones?’

  I stare down at Jack. ‘How come you got to be the dog? Did you pick the short straw back in Alienville? And what did you mean by “replacement”? You said it before. The replacement for what?’

  Jack looks up at Molly in that shifty way he has when he knows he’s done something wrong. Like that time he peed on the doormat. ‘It’s like Molly told you yesterday. I’m a companion. We’re not the same. She was bred for this task. I was … an afterthought. A friend for her. Also, I’ll have you know I did no such thing as urinate on the doormat. It was next-door’s cat.’ He sounds a bit huffy at the very suggestion.

  I glance from one to the other, trying to work out all I need to ask. All I want to know. After a while, I remember something else Molly mentioned the other day – the stratosphere. ‘Can you tell me where we are now?’ I ask.

  Molly brightens slightly at this. ‘I don’t see why not. Our little Peregrination bubble is currently in the Binian quadrant. Orbiting a small planet called Leteris.’

  Silence.

  ‘Of course we are,’ I say, eventually. ‘I should have known. Leteris. In the Binian quadrant. Wait a second, I think I’m mixing it up with something else. Remind me – Leteris is like …’

  ‘Oh, right. Here you go,’ Molly stands up and, at the same time, the walls of my room completely, utterly and totally disappear.

  I’m so stunned that for a moment I can’t even move. I’m frozen. Stuck to my bed. With fear, with wonder, I’m not sure. But then, feeling slightly queasy with fear, I grip the sides of my mattress and slowly manage to sit upright in my bed.

  I am surrounded by a vast, dark, silent pool of space.

  There, in front of me, where my wardrobe should be, is a planet. A small, mostly blue, planet. Just … sitting there. Hanging out. Minding its own business. Like planets do.

  ‘That’s Leteris,’ Molly says. ‘Pretty, isn’t it?’

  Somehow, I managed to gather a few brain cells to form a question. ‘Is that water? That blue stuff?’

  ‘Yes, sort of. It’s like water. Sort of.’

  ‘Well, it’s blue,’ Jack adds, sounding doubtful.

  I shake my head, still not quite believing my eyes. ‘So they have life there? On Leteris?’

  ‘Yes. Though not much. It’s someone’s, well … holiday house, I guess you’d call it. You know what they say,’ she laughs, ‘When the Alecto quadrant gets tough, the tough go …’ she trails off as she guesses I’m not going to get the joke. ‘Anyway, they’re not home right now, so it’s cool.’

  Mesmerised, I turn my head slowly and take in all four sides of my ‘new’ room. Leteris is directly in front of me. On my left are two small, greenish-tinged moons, both around the same size. Behind me is another, larger moon, brighter and greener than the two others. To my right is nothing. Just blackness and shimmering stars. In the distance, I can see another planet, also blue.

  ‘Oh, that’s Minto. Another … holiday house,’ Molly says. When I glance over at her I realise she’s moved towards my bedroom door with Jack at her heels and is already halfway into the hall.

  ‘Wait,’ I blurt out.

  ‘Yes?’ Molly pauses, turning back towards me.

  ‘How many moons does my home planet have? Earth? How many suns?’

  ‘Just the one moon and the one sun.’

  ‘Only one of each?’ I frown. ‘All the time?’

  ‘Yes.’

  ‘Weird.’

  ‘Want me to turn the lights out?’

  I nearly say the lights aren’t on, but then realise what she means. ‘No,’ I tell her, an overwhelming feeling of awe washing over me as I realise what I have somehow fallen into. ‘No, I think … I think I’ll keep the lights on, thanks.’

  CHAPTER 12

  ‘We’re going swimming.’ Molly throws my swimsuit at me, narrowly missing my cereal. I try to frown, but it’s too early on a school morning for my face to attempt such a feat. I give up and simply spoon more cereal into my mouth.

  ‘You mean you’re going swimming,’ I say, still chewing, still half asleep. ‘Give me a break! It’s six twenty-one.’ And eight seconds (I’m awake enough to know better than to say this out loud).

  Across the table, Mum pulls her pink kimono tighter around her and shoots me a Molly’s-asking-you-along-go-and-talk-to-her stare.

  I shoot back a why-me? squint.

  Because you’re her brother! is her silent reply.

  Sigh. Obviously she still thinks there’s something going on with Molly. Which there is, I guess.

  ‘Charming.’ Molly watches some of my cereal fall out of my mouth and back into the bowl. Inside my head, so Mum can’t hear, she adds, This was your suggestion, remember, Mr Fit? I’d rather go by myself, but for now, we stick together. Trust me. It’s in your best interests.

  Considering the events of the past few days, I’m guessing she’s probably right, but I turn back to my bowl and ignore her anyway. She waits, watching me, until I’ve finished my breakfast. ‘Well, come on then,’ she says, when I’ve finished my last spoonful.

  ‘Fine, fine! I’m coming already,’ I say, pushing back my chair. She’s not going to give up anytime soon, I can see that much.

  ‘Oh, that’s lovely, you two.’ Mum grins as if we’ve made her day.

  But as I walk over and put my bowl in the sink, we continue the conversation silently. It’s too cold this early in the morning, I tell her.

  Tough. You need the exercise.

  So warm up the water then, oh awesome one. May as well get some use out of all these powers my sister suddenly has. I glare at her from where I’m still standing at the sink.

  Done, Molly tells me, the smallest smile on her face. Now, hurry up. Jack’s waiting outside.

  ‘Ugh,’ I say out loud, as I stomp off to grab a towel and my school stuff.

  Molly loves swimming. Not like other kids, who use the pool as a playground
, jumping in, jumping out, jumping in again (repeat for at least an hour, or until someone calls iceblock time). She swims laps. Lap after lap after lap. I asked her, once, why she loves doing those laps so much and she told me it was because it was ‘completely mindless’. ‘One arm over the other,’ she’d said. ‘On and on and on forever.’

  This morning, after I’ve done eight laps (okay, six), I get dressed and then lounge about on one of the concrete benches waiting for Molly with Jack, who’s slept on my towel the whole time, the lucky thing. For a while, I time her. Each of her laps takes exactly the same time. And by that I mean exactly. As in, to the second. It’s not a fast time, just good. Acceptable. Nothing to be ashamed of. She’s being careful. No showing off in public.

  Finally, Molly gets out of the pool and I collect all our stuff and stick my head into the office to say bye to Dad while she goes and gets changed. I hand over her schoolbag as she leaves the changing rooms, and notice her ponytail dripping on her dress. ‘Why don’t you instadry it?’ I ask her, starting off.

  ‘I’ve been in the pool. It’s supposed to be wet,’ she says behind me and I hear her running a step or two to catch up with me. It’s only when we reach the pool gate and I push and hold it open for Jack and Molly to pass through that I turn and see her hair is completely dry. I look again and it’s wet. Jack barks at her when he sees this.

  I let the gate swing shut with a bang after her.

  ‘Right. That’s it. I need more answers,’ I tell her. ‘Now.’

  ‘You’d better go home, Jack,’ Molly says, pretending I haven’t said anything. ‘We’ve got to keep going or we’ll be late for school.’

  Jack begins to trudge off. ‘Sure. I guess I’ll continue my education at home. My education in licking myself and sniffing other dogs’ behinds.’

  ‘See you, Jack!’ I watch him go before turning back to Molly. ‘What’s the hurry? Can’t you just change the time to whatever suits you? You can do anything, right?’

  Her eyes finally slide towards mine. ‘Well, it’s not me who saves the universe, so I guess I can’t.’

  Seriously, right now, I’m considering not saving the universe just to get a break from her. I rub my chlorinated eyes with frustration. ‘Molly!’ She’s driving me crazy – really crazy – with her constant roundabout answers.

  ‘Okay, okay.’ Molly grabs the sleeve of my T-shirt and tugs me forwards, towards the main street of our small town. We have to walk along it to get to the school, past the not so exciting lineup of shops – supermarket, newsagent, chemist and so on. ‘Maybe I do need to tell you a thing or two to keep you from losing it. But keep walking. Surely even you can do two things at once.’

  I match Molly’s footsteps in the hope that if I do what she asks she will do what I ask – namely, give me more information. But where to start? I guess I may as well start with her. With us.

  ‘Were we really twins?’ I ask her. ‘Or is that just something you made up. That you made us all believe? Like everything around here?’

  She hesitates for only a moment. ‘I don’t “make” you believe anything, but it’s true we’re twins. In a way. I was created and placed in your mother’s womb, alongside you.’

  ‘Ewww.’ I scrunch up my nose.

  Molly rolls her eyes. ‘It was no picnic for me, I assure you. You never stopped moving. It was most annoying.’

  I think fast, wanting to get off the topic of wombs. Shudder. ‘How do you know you’re right? How do you know it’s really supposed to be me who saves the universe?’

  ‘Have you ever known me to make a mistake?’

  Good point.

  ‘You keep talking about some bubble. What do you mean?’

  ‘Think of it as a protective bubble. A portable, protective bubble that houses us all, provides shelter and keeps us safe.’

  ‘We live in a gigantic trailer?’

  She gives me her famous withering look.

  I remember something then. ‘Hang on, you did make a mistake. The Ecens got in your bubble, didn’t they?’

  I get a fierce look in return for this. ‘It wasn’t a mistake,’ Molly spits. ‘It was an … an oversight. I can’t know everything all the time, can I?’

  I shrug. ‘So, do Mum and Dad know about any of this?’

  Molly sighs a frustrated sigh. ‘It’s difficult. I had to … change a few of their memories. Of Earth. Of their previous life there. Which I can restore anytime I like. But, no, they know nothing about you being … “special”.’ She almost chokes on the word. ‘Now, what else?’

  I think for a moment. ‘This Earth place with the one moon and one sun. You said that’s where I come from? Where we all come from?’

  ‘Well, you and your parents,’ Molly answers.

  ‘So, what’s it like? Earth, I mean?’

  ‘Well, it’s like this, of course.’ Molly waves a hand around. But then she flinches. ‘Sort of.’

  ‘Sort of?’

  ‘I’ve done the best I can, okay?’ she barks back defensively, not afraid to look at me now.

  ‘Gee, thanks so much,’ I tell her, biting back. Something tells me Molly thinks she’s failed to recreate a perfect Earth. ‘But you’ve got to understand. I need to know where I come from, Molly, yeah? I don’t think that’s such a big ask.’

  ‘And I’ve told you!’ Molly stops dead, turning to face me now. ‘I just … can’t give you any more information than that. What you don’t understand is that, if I do, it will make everything around here – everything and everyone – start to look a bit … odd.’

  Is she serious? ‘A bit odd? Well, it’s a bit late to worry about that, isn’t it? Were you even at my birthday party yesterday? Or at Ethan’s for the festival of the resurrected goldfish? Things already look a bit odd to me, in case you hadn’t noticed!’

  Molly’s mouth twists and I can see that I have her. She’s messed up and she knows it.

  ‘I have not messed up!’ She stamps one foot. ‘This was never going to go completely smoothly. If you knew anything at all you’d see how unfair you’re being! You might even thank me!’

  ‘I doubt it!’ I tell her. We glare at each other, same height, same build, each of us sizing up the other for a decent fight. But surprisingly it’s Molly who caves, and fast.

  ‘Fine,’ she says, with a flick of her hand. ‘Given we’re closing in on the big moment, I don’t see how it can hurt. So, what do you want to know? You’ll soon see I was right. Oh, hello, Mr Gregory, nice to see you!’ She pauses to greet Mr Gregory, who’s passing by on his way to the newsagent – aka crazy Mr Gregory who runs the town’s restaurant. The place that serves Indian and fish and chips and Chinese and Japanese and Italian. The place, not surprisingly, no one ever goes because the food is so terrible.

  Mr Gregory just grunts at us in his usual fashion and keeps on walking.

  When he’s entered the newsagency, we return to our argument. I have to admit that Molly giving in so easily makes me hesitate. After all, if the universe is full of species like the Ecens (I think about the tail sticking out of the dress again and shudder), maybe I’m better off knowing as little as possible? But no. I need to know. I need to know about Earth. ‘I want to know the differences,’ I blurt out before I can regret it, trying to keep my voice even and not sound scared witless of what I might be about to find out. ‘I want to know the differences between … whatever this place is and Earth.’

  ‘Okay then,’ Molly says.

  But I barely hear her as something suddenly smacks me in the head. I take a step or two back as pictures and words start to flit through my mind at an astonishing rate. I’m so blown away I have to close my eyes – both to steady myself and so I’m not seeing and hearing double and can concentrate on the information Molly is hurling at me. After only a few seconds, the images stop and I open my eyes again, to see exactly the same scene that lay in front of me before.

  Just with a whole new context.

  And a bit of a headache.

  Suddenly,
it’s like all the little gaps have been filled in and things that slightly puzzled me, or didn’t quite make sense before, I now totally get. Then there’s the extra stuff – stuff I hadn’t known at all. Like I’ve just found out what the volcanic mountains of Hawaii look like, the effervescent green of a poppy-dotted English field, the dark blue of the ocean at its deepest point and the lit-up neon skyline of Shanghai. I’ve seen what I’m guessing are the highlights of Earth and not this made-up Morillius – things called skyscrapers and universities and taxis and hotels and trains and … all sorts of things I’d never even dreamed of.

  And just a little thing, but on Earth the sky is blue. Blue!

  Oh.

  It’s only then that I realise how odd it is that Morillius’s sky, moons and suns change each day. I guess it depends on where our bubble is.

  Molly has been messing with my mind. Big time.

  Now, I’m not standing in the main street of my home town anymore. Instead, I’m standing in someone else’s ugly little one-horse, dusty, middle-of-nowhere, so-awful-you-want-to-start-running-and-never-stop town and everything here looks just plain wrong. I gaze around, so shocked my mouth is hanging open (I didn’t know people really did that, but they do) as Mr Gregory leaves the newsagency. This time he doesn’t grunt, he looks straight at Molly.

  ‘So, he knows,’ he says to her. ‘Does that mean I can start cooking us some real food instead of that Earth rubbish?’

  Molly just eyeballs him. I wait for her to answer, but instead Mr Gregory drops to the floor with a whump and turns into something else entirely. I look down, mouth still open, and gape at this blue … thing now writhing on the ground. About a metre long, it has no arms, or legs, but three sets of long, fanlike objects sticking out of either side of its body – six in total. There is no head, or tail. I’m not sure what’s up and what’s down, but there seems to be some sort of … opening on the top and I step back as words come out of it.

  ‘I really hate it when you do that,’ Mr Gregory says.

  CHAPTER 13

  ‘You’ve lied to me about everything.’ I shake my head as we continue on our way to school. Molly had changed Mr Gregory back almost immediately. Right after telling me he’d been brought to live around here because he’s an arms specialist and part of her crack team of alien advisors who are masquerading as Peregrination locals. I find it hard to get my head around how that blue sea monster could be an arms dealer. I mean, he doesn’t even have any arms to deal arms with.