by Gini Koch
Chose not to argue. “What’s a bigger deal than whatever Ixtha has going on?”
“I can’t tell you,” Sandy said calmly. “You know we believe in noninterference.”
“Except when it’s you guys doing it. Look, do I need to go and give all of those who hang out where you live names? I’m willing to do it.”
“I’m sure you are. But no, that would . . . not be wise. The others who visited Earth are still dealing with what you giving them names did to their mindsets.”
“Are they okay?” Hadn’t necessarily wanted to make these beings go nuts or something.
“Yes, though they now struggle with our stated way of life.”
“Oh, you mean some of them want to interfere,” Tim said.
“No,” Sandy replied. “I mean that some of them already have.” He looked around, nodded his head, and suddenly, we weren’t in the Eagle Nebula’s neighborhood anymore.
Tim and I both stared. We were in a solar system, and we could see a sun. There were a lot of planets and other celestial bodies. But none of them looked remotely familiar. Not even the large, green planet we appeared to be orbiting.
“Where are we?” Tim asked.
“On the other side of our home,” Sandy replied.
Looked around. “I don’t see the nebula, or anything that looks familiar. Are we on the other side of the galaxy?”
Sandy chuckled and waved his hand in a circular motion and the ship turned, not like we’d been spinning before, but more like one of those “moving restaurants”—really slowly.
“Oh,” Tim and I said in unison. The Eagle Nebula was, essentially, behind this solar system.
“Yes,” Sandy said. “This solar system is the closest one to us.”
“Problems in the neighborhood and who you gonna call? Problem Busters.”
“In essence,” Sandy said, with a smile, which I hoped indicated good things. “We need someone to intervene here. Someone with no, I believe you would say, skin in the game.”
“I would, but I have no idea how you picked that phrase up.”
“I wandered Earth for quite a while. It was most interesting.”
“While that’s all great, why are we here?” Tim asked. “Is this where Mother was heading?”
“No, it is not. It is, however, someplace you need to go first.”
“Why do we need to do that?” Wondered what we were going to tell the others. Perhaps it was time to panic after all.
“Because if you truly want to save the galaxy, you have to save all of it.”
“Is now really the time to be inscrutable?” Tim asked. “No offense.”
“None taken,” Sandy said calmly. “However, you have someone on board who was not supposed to leave Earth.”
“ACE. He’s inside my daughter and none of us were supposed to be on this flight anyhow. You wanted him noninterfering. He didn’t interfere, that’s why we’re all somehow stranded in space. Though, now we’re stranded in a part of space we don’t know. On top of everything else.”
“Some on board know where this is,” Sandy replied.
“We’re on the back side of the Eagle Nebula’s territory,” Tim said. “Get with the space program, Kitty.”
“Nice to see you keeping it light. I’m not exactly familiar with this section of the galaxy, call me an astronomy quitter. Besides, I’m still back on ‘what happens to ACE and my daughter,’ call me a worrywart and all that.”
“Concessions will be made . . . if the situation in this solar system is . . . rectified.”
“Why so?” Tim asked flatly.
“Because,” Sandy sighed, “Grumpy and Dopey are fighting for control of this solar system, and if they destroy this star, it will destroy the nebula, and without the nebula, there will not be any more stars that can form.”
“Per our scientists and astronomers, the nebula’s not really here anymore, we’re just seeing the memory of the light.”
“Your scientists and astronomers are, as happens frequently with younger, inexperienced races, wrong.” Sandy nodded his head and suddenly we weren’t in the solar system anymore. We were inside the nebula. And it looked very real, very alive, and not remotely like a memory.
“It’s beautiful,” Tim said quietly.
It was. Pillars of the same kind of thick fog that wasn’t fog—what Sandy had been before he’d entered the ship—flowed like steam, only not randomly but with what seemed like purpose. All the colors of the rainbow and colors I couldn’t identify as well were within the fog. And light. Lots and lots of light. Moving light.
“It looks like the light is . . . boiling.”
“It is. This is how stars are formed. By us and by the others who reside in nebulas as we do. We are the creators.”
“But not the only ones.”
“No, not the only ones. We are the builders.”
“Of life?” Tim asked.
“No, not of life. Of the galaxies, the systems. The rocks, to all of you. Builder is not quite the right word, though.”
“The architects?” Hey, I was trying to be supportive. Besides, this was gorgeous.
“Yes, that is the correct word. As one solar system dies, we create a new one, so that life will go on. We do not people the planets—that is not our way. But we do create the suns and, therefore, the systems. Otherwise, we are not to interfere.”
“Go team.” Really hoped some of the others were seeing this. And not panicking. “Um, what are the others seeing?”
“The same as you. All will need to understand what they need to do.”
“What is it that we all need to do?” Tim asked.
“Stop the destruction of this solar system so that we can continue to create. The nebulas are connected to each other. Not as a human could or would understand it. But we are interconnected. If one nebula dies, normally another would be ready to take its place. But this is not the right time, or the right way, for our nebula to die, and so, if we go prematurely and in this fashion, then the rest of the nebulas will all wither and no new suns will ever be created in this galaxy again.”
Tim and I both let that one sit on the air for a few long moments. “Um, that sounds bad.” And familiar, in its own way. Per Algar, all the black holes out there were connected in some way to the Black Hole Universe. Wondered if the Nebula Network was the same. Figured it probably was and wasn’t at the same time. Decided it didn’t matter.
“It would be very bad, yes.” Sandy also had a sarcasm knob, though he was probably only at around five on the scale.
“What is it we need to do?” Tim asked.
Sandy shrugged and we were back in orbit around the very green planet. “You need to stop a mad scientist from creating the destruction of the galaxy.”
And with that, he turned back into thick fog and dissipated.
CHAPTER 27
“JEFF’S RIGHT,” Tim said. “It never ends.”
“And it’s also never easy. I hope you’re not shocked.”
“No. I’m trying hard to figure out how we find a mad scientist on a world we’ve never been to, let alone stop him or her from destroying the galaxy.”
“That seems to be the order of the day, doesn’t it? I mean, supposedly we’re heading to Ixtha to also save the galaxy.”
“We need a theme song. Something like ‘da da, da daaaa, Galaxy Defenders!’ or similar.”
“You’re starting to worry me. I mean, you’re not wrong. Just worrying me. And now I want to hear music. Of some kind. Any kind, really.”
Tim shrugged. “Turn on your phone. I’m not anti-tunes, you know.”
“Think it’ll bother the others?”
“More or less than us sharing the latest news will?”
“Good point.” Pulled my phone out of my purse, opened up my music, and looked at my playlists. Sure
enough, there was a Space Travel playlist that I had definitely not created. Hit play, turned the volume up, and dropped my phone back in my purse. As the sounds of “Space Boy” by Splender filled my ears, idly noted that I saw no Poofs on Board. Felt sad. “No Poofies?”
“Yeah, I haven’t seen Fluffy Death since we got on board.”
“You know . . . that’s weird. I mean, the Poofs go with us everywhere. Why wouldn’t they come with us for this?”
“No idea, Kitty. The Poofs are your bailiwick. Just like the rest of the animals.”
The music changed to “Animal House” by Stephen Bishop. And my brain nudged again. “You know . . .”
“I know that look. That’s a Megalomaniac Girl look.”
“Yeah, it is, though it should probably be a Doctor Doolittle look. Remember how we said if one team could smuggle themselves on, why not others?”
“Yeah. Oh! Wow. You think the animals are stowed away somewhere?”
“I do.” Heaved a sigh, then ensured my voice sounded firm but fair. “Poofs, Peregrines, and all other Animal Friends assemble!”
Results were immediate.
Sure enough, we had a tonnage of Poofs, a whole lot of Peregrines, and one ocellar and chocho in the forms of Ginger and Wilbur. Ocellars looked like a combination of caracals and foxes, only slightly larger, oranger, and more predatory than both. Chochos were basically pig-dogs, complete with bristly fur, curlicue tails, and a honking kind of bark. Both breeds were from Beta Eight. I’d met Ginger and Wilbur during Operation Civil War and they’d come home with me, along with enough other ocellars and chochos that we had plenty by now, both in the Embassy and Washington Zoos. But these two lived with me in the White House.
“I’m amazed you didn’t bring the regular dogs and cats along, too.” Said with only some sarcasm.
Bruno warbled at me. Apparently not all the Poofs and Peregrines were in attendance, either.
“Gotcha. The others had to stay home to ensure that my dad had animals to focus on so he wouldn’t note that the ones closest to his daughter and her family are all suspiciously absent. Good plan. You do realize my dad isn’t nearly as dense as he acts, right?”
Bruno warbled again, bobbed his head, and clawed at the carpet.
“Fine, yes, I’m sure they’ll keep him occupied enough that he doesn’t blow our subterfuge or whatever. Of course, to burst your planning bubble, my mom said she was going to tell him what was going on.”
Bruno scratched and warbled again.
“Good, I’m so glad you approve. And yes, some need to be on guard regardless of who knows what, so, good plan. I guess.”
“I’m more curious as to why they were hidden,” Tim said.
“Good point. Why didn’t you guys let us know you were on board? Everyone’s been stressed and could have used some animal snuggles.”
Bruno heaved a bird sigh, gave me the “why me?” look in avian, and looked over at Harlie. Who bounced up and down, mewling.
“Seriously? That’s ridiculous.”
“What? What’s ridiculous?” Tim asked. “I don’t speak fur or feathers.”
“The Poofs were jealous that we let the least weasels come on board in an unstealthy and somewhat honorary manner. Which is silly in the extreme. They’re a present from the Ard Ri.” And I knew damn well that all the animals were clear on who Algar was—he was the Poof’s One True Owner, after all, and the Peregrines had definitely figured that all out. By now, I assumed all the animals knew. Since I was pretty much the only one they could talk to about it, it wasn’t exactly a security risk for Algar.
“The weasels are cute, but they’re not Poofs,” Tim pointed out.
“True enough. And I’m sure once the Ard Ri meets all of you that he’ll be super impressed by one and all and demand Poofs and such for himself.” Unlikely. All the Poofs were probably considered Algar’s anyway and if he didn’t have a Peregrine by now it was because he didn’t want one. But I had to say something so as not to give away the fact that the Poofs were pouting because their One True Owner had another set of pets.
“We’re giving him a Poof?” Tim asked, sounding more than a little shocked.
“Who knows? That’s kind of up to them.” But a thought occurred. “You know . . . Mister Joel Oliver is on the ship. So, did Bellie manage to sit this one out or is she stowed away elsewhere?” Got hit with the Sea of Animal Innocence Looks. Snorted. “Where is she and how is she managing to stay quiet?”
Bruno cawed and clawed the carpet.
“You going to share?” Tim asked.
“Sure. She’s hiding in the room the press is assigned to. Apparently, that’s her version of being stealth.”
“Worked well and, let’s be honest—she’s more stealthy than the hackers.”
“Good point.”
“So, I want to know why Ginger and Wilbur are here,” Tim said. “The Poofs and Peregrines I get, Bellie coming with MJO isn’t a surprise. But not these two.”
“Well?”
Ginger yawned, purred, stretched, then started cleaning her fur. Wilbur honk-barked and wagged his curly tail in a circular motion.
“So? What’s the reason?” Tim asked me.
Heaved a sigh. “They wanted to go on vacation with us, too.”
Tim shook his head. “This is one hell of a vacation.”
“Potentially, it’s no worse than some.” I’d been on some doozies during college. Any vacation Chuckie wasn’t on with me, as I thought about it. Cheered up a bit. He was sure as heck with us for this one, so perhaps this would turn out well.
Tim’s turn to snort. “True enough. We’re stranded in the middle of nowhere and have to help some people we don’t know out of trouble in order to get out of town. My family did their best to avoid vacations like this.”
“Mine, too. However, it’s what we’ve got and I, personally, feel a lot better with the animals around.”
“I’ll feel better about them, too, once we find out how many more people or creatures have stowed aboard.”
“None,” someone said, causing both of us to jump.
Turned as I landed to see Wruck there. “We’ve searched the ship. Barring other animals or people able to blend as Benjamin and the Peregrines do, this is everyone. I was coming to tell you that I’d found the parrot, but I see you found all the other animals as well.”
Managed to refrain from saying that Benjamin and the Peregrines would be an awesome name for a band, but it took effort. “Bellie shared that the others were on board?”
“She did. Under duress,” Wruck said to the animals, who seemed appeased or unsurprised, depending. Yeah, Bellie was a bigmouth. But she was, as I’d learned during Operation Fundraiser, a very loyal bigmouth, so I wasn’t all that sad that she’d stowed away, too.
“Gotcha. Does Mother know? About all the animals being here, I mean.”
“I assume so,” Wruck said. “However, she may not care. Repairs are still being made.”
“Ah, did the other guys do what we thought they would?” Tim asked.
Wruck stared at him for a moment. “Oh. No, I don’t think so. Currently it doesn’t seem necessary.”
“Did everyone else look out the windows?” This was a bigger concern for me right now than whether or not Hacker International had chosen to reprogram Mother in some way. I didn’t want people freaking out.
“Only those on the command deck. Your husband is clear that the superconsciousness has visited, and the rest of us could, therefore, figure out that we’ve been moved here to solve some local problem for them.”
“Sounds about right. By the way, John, Sandy said that the Nebula System is both connected and how stars are formed. Is that true?”
He nodded. “As we’ve always understood it. They are older even than we Anciannas or the Z’porrah.”
“This galaxy i
s just loaded with ancient, godlike beings, isn’t it?” Tim asked.
“Probably more than we know about, yeah.”
“Every galaxy has these in them,” Wruck said. “The universe is vast.”
My music changed to Aerosmith’s “Get the Lead Out” which surely sounded like an Algar Hint. Wished I was rolling with my boys on my chest instead of my FLOTUS-wear, but had long ago realized I couldn’t have everything.
“I’m just going to focus on our own little galaxy, then, and share that we have to go down to that green planet and save the day somehow. I also speak for everyone when I say that we’re wide open to suggestions.”
“I suggest we go back to the command deck and discuss options with the rest of the team,” Wruck replied. “And don’t worry—you’ll prevail, Kitty. You always do.”
“Yeah? Define ‘prevail’ and ‘always,’ because I don’t think those words mean what you think they mean.”
We rejoined those on the command deck and shared what was going on. After a lot of fretting, bickering, complaining, and generally us being us, along with everyone other than Tim insisting I turn my music off, we decided that we had no choice but to do what Sandy wanted. Particularly when Drax came on the intercom.
“The warp core is fixed,” he shared. But he didn’t sound happy.
Because we were all experienced, no one cheered. “But?” Jeff asked. “Because there’s clearly a ‘but’ coming.”
“But we need a supply that we don’t have on board,” Drax said, sounding beyond frustrated. “It should be on board, mind you, but the entire stock is gone.”
“What is this marvelous substance, Gustav?” I asked.
“Chlorophyll.”
CHAPTER 28
WE ALL LET THAT one sit on the air for a couple of seconds. Yeah, stunned silence was definitely this trip’s theme.
“Why?” Reader asked finally, speaking for all of us. “What does plant photosynthesis have to do with the ship?”
“Chlorophyll allows the ship to extract power from any and all light sources,” Drax replied. Heard Hacker International in the background, explaining this to whoever wanted to listen. Wasn’t me, so I didn’t.