Sci-Fi Junior High

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Sci-Fi Junior High Page 2

by Scott Seegert


  For the smartest kid in the galaxy, I sure am a slow learner.

  Chapter 5

  Well, that was quite a start to my new school career. In the first twenty minutes alone I learned to:

  1. Take Spotch’s advice.

  2. Never count on there being gravity.

  3. Be careful not to accidentally eat a classmate for dessert.

  I guess I could also add “never hit your principal in the eyestalk with a pie.” Not that I was the one who did it, but still something to remember. It’s all good, though, because I also met my first new friend. Even better, it turns out that Spotch and I have the same schedule after lunch. So after picking the pieces of fried glorp cheese out of my hair, I walk with him to Mr. Jeddee’s science class.

  Mr. Jeddee introduces me to the class. I hear some murmuring from the students.

  “That’s him!”

  “Wow! THE Kelvin Klosmo!”

  “He doesn’t look that smart.”

  He assigns me to Spotch’s table, where six kids are already sitting.

  I grab Spotch before he can sit down.

  “Hey—could you fill me in on my tablemates?” I ask him. “I think it might be a good idea if I knew a little about them before we meet. You know, so I’m not accidentally rude or something.”

  “Sure thing,” Spotch says. “Seems logical.”

  Yikes! Back on Earth, I thought Teddy Krumlets was strange because he used to eat the shavings out of the pencil sharpener. But this is a whole other thing altogether.

  Chapter 6

  Wow. What a first day. And to think—yesterday morning I woke up in my own bed, in my own house, in my own solar system. You’re probably wondering how I actually got here, to this hunk of metal floating around in deep space. And I should probably tell you about it while it’s all still fresh in my mind. Who knows what’ll happen when my Mighty Mega Supergeniusness kicks in. It might even scramble my memories a bit, and I want to make sure you get the whole, true story.

  So, there we were, hurtling through space in our transport shuttle.

  We had another passenger in the back, sort of a frail old guy. I had no idea who he was.

  But I did have an idea of just how far we had to travel to get to the space station—56,000 light-years! Do you have any idea how far that is? Me either. At least, I didn’t before I asked my dad.

  “Well, son, a light-year is the distance that light can travel in one year.”

  “And how far is that, Dad?”

  “Oh, about 5.878 trillion miles, depending on how many times it has to stop to go to the bathroom. HAR!”

  That “HAR” is the sound of my dad laughing. He makes it every time he tells a joke. It’s usually the only way we even know he made a joke. For a supergenius, my dad can be a real goofball.

  So, a few hundred thousand trillion miles to go? I figured that was going to take a few hundred trillion years, so I was pretty sure I’d be the oldest seventh grader at Sciriustrati Fibronoculareus Junior High when I finally got there. Maybe there was a shortcut?

  “Uh, Dad?” I asked. “How much longer till we get there?”

  “Well, we still have about forty-five minutes before we reach the wormhole on the back side of the moon. After that I’d say twenty-seven seconds and we’ll be at the far side of the galaxy. Twenty-nine if we run into traffic. HAR!”

  Another joke. But a shortcut, too!

  “Wormhole?” I asked.

  “That’s right. You do know what a wormhole is, don’t you, Kelvin?”

  “Uhh… oh, a wormhole. Of course I know what that is.”

  I had no idea what that was. Wormhole? Seriously? Never heard of it. But I couldn’t let my parents know that. I’d done a pretty good job of hiding the fact that my superbrilliance hadn’t risen to the surface yet. I’d hate to blow it now and disappoint them.

  Besides, there were really only three things it could possibly be, right?

  WORMHOLE POSSIBILITY 1—A hole that a worm made. Like in an apple. Not sure how that would help get us across the galaxy in twenty-seven seconds, though. Maybe it was a magic apple, and when you ate the part with the hole in it, you were instantly transported bazillions of miles across the galaxy. Hmm. Seemed reasonable.

  WORMHOLE POSSIBILITY 2—A hole in the ground filled with worms. You held your breath, jumped in the hole, and… ZWAP! You were on the other side of the galaxy. Definitely a possibility.

  WORMHOLE POSSIBILITY 3—A hole in a worm. Hey—now we were getting somewhere! It would have to be a giant worm, so the hole would be big enough to climb into. Then the worm would do a wicked-fast space crawl to the far side of the galaxy. Kind of gross, but yeah, that must be what it was. Come to think of it, my first two ideas seemed sort of ridiculous now.

  “Hey, everyone,” Dad said. “We’re at the wormhole!”

  “Wait a minute,” I said. “Where’s the ginormous worm? Did it already go through the hole?”

  “HAR! Did you hear that, hon?” said Dad. “Pretending to confuse a bridge across space-time with a gigantic limbless invertebrate!”

  “He’s always had a wonderful sense of humor, that one!” Mom added.

  A bridge across space-time? So, no actual worm? Man, it was getting harder and harder to fake being a Mighty Mega Supergenius.

  What the…?

  Okay. Either I was having space-travel-induced butt spasms or somebody was kicking the back of my seat. I turned around to see what was what.

  Ugh. It was that annoying, goofy-looking little creature.

  And she was holding her stuffed animal.

  Me hogging all the brains passed down from our parents meant there wasn’t much left over for my little sister, Bula.

  At least, that’s what I imagine it must look like in there. Here, I’ll give you an example of what I’m talking about.

  “Hey, Bula. What’s eighteen divided by three?”

  “Ummmmm… I dunno.”

  See? Nothing going on inside that pigtailed little skull of hers. I think the hamster might even have died.

  “It’s six, Bula. How do you not know that?”

  “Umm, because I’m only four? And at least I know a wormhole isn’t in a real worm.”

  “THAT WAS A JOKE! I obviously knew what a wormhole was.”

  “No, you didn’t.”

  “Yes, I did!”

  “Nope.”

  “Yes, I… why am I even arguing with you about this?”

  “Because you didn’t know what a wormhole was.”

  “Yes, I did! And that’s it! I’m done arguing!”

  “You didn’t know what a wormhole was. You didn’t know what a wormhole was.”

  “Yes, I did!”

  “Nope.”

  “Yup!”

  Chapter 7

  Z arfloots! Why didn’t they give me my own private shuttle? This is going to be the longest 329-quadrillion-mile trip ever-even if it does last only twenty-seven seconds. It’s enough to make my stomach churn! Which reminds me… I’m hungry.

  Double zarfloots! Children and space travel make a horrible combination. Come to think of it, children and anything make a horrible combination. Because of the children part. They’re just so… yuck.

  Especially these children, since they belong to those infernal Klosmos. Those two have been robbing me, Erik Failenheimer, of my glory for longer than I can remember. So Klyde Klosmo designed a robot to destroy asteroids headed toward Earth. Big whoop. So did I.

  Okay, so mine had a few glitches, but nothing a few thousand minor adjustments couldn’t have taken care of. But did they give me a chance? Nooooooooooo! They just used Klosmo’s bot instead. They always choose the Klosmos. For everything!

  But now, at last, things will be different! The top scientists from all over the galaxy are being brought together at the Galactic Science Hub to work on a top secret project. This is my chance to show what brilliance I am capable of! This is my chance to finally gain the respect that Erik Failenheimer so richly deserv
es!

  Chapter 8

  “So, where are you folks headed?”

  “To the Galactic Science Hub.”

  “Oh, I doubt that.”

  “What do you mean? Won’t this wormhole take us there?”

  “Darn right it’ll take you there. It’s the only place it’ll take you. One entrance, one exit. That’s how a wormhole works, you know.”

  “Of course I know. Everyone knows how a wormhole works.”

  “So, what’s the problem, exactly?”

  “The problem, exactly, is that for you to go through this here wormhole, I’d have to let you through this here gate. And for me to let you through this here gate, your names would have to be on THE LIST. And THE LIST is very short. So short, in fact, that I’ve been sitting here for three and a half years and nobody’s gone through yet.”

  “Well, I’m Professor Klyde Klosmo and this is my wife, Professor Klara Klosmo. And these are our children, Kelvin and Bula.”

  “All right. What the heck. Since I’ve got nothing else to do, I’ll humor you and take a look. But we both know there’s no way your names are on the… well, I’ll be a wallaby’s earlobe! You folks really are on THE LIST.”

  “Great. Now let’s get going. You’ve wasted enough of my precious time.”

  “And just who might you be?”

  “Who might I be?! I might be Harry Potter! I might be Peter Pan!”

  “Sorry, pal. Neither of those names is on THE LIST.”

  “Of course they’re not on the list! They aren’t even real peop—never mind! Do you really not recognize the world-renowned Professor Erik M. Failenheimer when you see him?!”

  “Nope. And I don’t see that name on THE LIST, either.”

  “Well, look again! I was specifically invited!”

  “All right, but I don’t see how I could have missed… well, what do you know. Here you are… at the very bottom. After Mr. Fluffles.”

  “Mr. Fluffles? Who’s Mr. Fluffles?”

  “A plushy?! I’m listed after a plushy?!”

  “Look, mister. I didn’t make THE LIST. I just make sure you’re on it. And you are. Which means you folks are cleared to go. Have a nice trip.”

  Chapter 9

  Whoa! Now I knew what a wormhole was—AWESOME! Crazy lights flashing all over the place. Everybody looking all weirded out and goofy. Of course, that was nothing new for Bula.

  I felt like Silly Putty in a juice blender!

  Yikes! I guess old skin takes a little longer to snap back into shape.

  “All right, everyone,” Dad said, “we’re here! Halfway across the galaxy in less time than it takes Dr. Hackersham to comb his hair in the morning. HAR!”

  Dr. Hackersham is our dentist. He’s also bald. Get it? It looked like 56,000 light-years hadn’t improved Dad’s sense of humor any.

  “And there it is,” Dad said, beaming. “Right in front of us—the Galactic Science Hub! Isn’t she a beaut?”

  Mom’s eyes were wide open. “My goodness,” she said. “It’s even more impressive than I thought it would be! Simply marvelous! I can’t wait to settle in and get to work.”

  “By the way, just what exactly is your work, anyway?” I asked. “What’s so important that someone who builds robots and someone who studies brains have to drag their whole family all the way out here?”

  “Well, son,” Dad started to explain, “your mother and I will be working on an extremely important project to retrieve a—OUCH!”

  I noticed Mom’s fingernails digging into Dad’s forearm. She didn’t look happy.

  “That is,” Dad continued, his eyes watering slightly, “an extremely important project to make… uh… smarter robots!”

  He looked over at Mom, eyebrows raised.

  “You know, so they can be more useful to us around the house and run errands and such.”

  Mom let go of Dad’s arm. He rubbed the welts and let out a sigh of relief. That was… weird.

  “That’s all we can say for now,” Mom said. “Let’s give you a few days to settle in at your new school, and then your dad and I can tell you all about it. How does that sound?”

  The part about robots doing my chores sounded… strange… but also awesome! The part about starting all over at a new school in deep space—not so much. The smartest kid in the world would be up for the challenge, though, so I put on my bravest face.

  “Sounds awesome! Can’t wait to get started!”

  “Great!” Dad replied. “I just know you’re going to love it here, Kelvin. Well, what are we waiting for, driver? Let’s go!”

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Wow. The landing bay of the space station was the biggest thing I’d ever been in in my life! I couldn’t even see all the way to the far end. And it was loaded with shuttles just like ours. There must have been hundreds of them. And lots of other ships, too. Some looked barely big enough to hold one person, but most of them seemed large enough to carry a whole bunch of passengers. And equipment, too. Weird things. Like the kind of stuff my dad would come up with.

  “If you’ll follow me, folks, I’ll take you to your living quarters. But first you’ll need to remove your clothing.”

  “Please, sir. Not out here. I’ll show you to the changing area, where you’ll find a new uniform with your name on it. You can toss your old clothes in the marked disposal bin.”

  Uniform? Wait a minute—nobody ever mentioned anything about a uniform! I really liked the clothes I already had. It took a lot of effort to look that good. And I really didn’t want to start out at a new school wearing some dorky uniform. I asked Dad what the deal was.

  “Contamination, son. Contamination. There are many different species from many different planets aboard the Science Hub, and germs that might be harmless to you and me could prove disastrous to someone else. And vice versa. There’s no telling what the effects could be. You wouldn’t want to be brushing your teeth and have your head fall off into the sink, now would you?”

  “No. I guess not.” Head fall off? Into the sink? And no “HAR!” at the end? Holy cow, he might actually have been serious! I quickly changed into my new outfit, sadly tossed my ultracool stud duds into the bin, and met everyone back outside the changing rooms.

  Hey, you know what? The uniforms weren’t half bad! In fact, they were so sweet they could probably make anybody look good.

  Well…

  Chapter 12

  All right! Enough is enough! First the shuttle and now… this?! Where’s the respect?

  “Look here! Somebody’s made a mistake! My uniform doesn’t look anything like the Klosmos’.”

  “A mistake? And your name is…?”

  “Failenheimer! Professor Erik M. Failenheimer!”

  “Well, then, this is your uniform, all right. Says so right on the name tag.”

  “Well, why does his say ‘Professor Klyde Klosmo’?”

  “Because that’s his name, I would assume.”

  “Has been since I was born! HAR!”

  “I mean, why does mine just say ‘Erik’? Something is obviously missing.”

  “Well, let’s take a look-see at the assignment sheet. Failenheimer… ah, here you are. And you’re right. There does appear to be something missing.”

  “Well… that’s better!”

  “A mop?!”

  “It says right here: ‘All custodians will be assigned sterilized, germ-free cleaning equipment immediately upon changing into their new uniform.’ I’m sorry. I missed that the first time around.”

  “Custodian?! I’ll have you know I came in third place in the most recent Scientist of the Year competition for the entire planet Earth!”

  “Well, good for you. Unfortunately, only the top two scientists from each planet are invited to continue their research here on the Galactic Science Hub. You shouldn’t feel bad, though. All of our custodians have been selected based upon their scientific knowledge as well. After all, you never know what type of hazardous messes you may hav
e to clean up.”

 

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