The Rise and Fall of El Solo Libre

by Peter Nelson

  At the front end of the Klapthorian Death Cruiser, in the very tip of its nose, was the teensy little cockpit. In it sat the teensy little captain and his teensy little crew.

  As universally feared as this ruthless species of space bullies were, the Klapthorians stood only about twenty inches tall. And they really didn’t appreciate having that fact pointed out to them.

  A Klapthorian first officer rushed to the thronelike captain’s seat. The Klapthorian leader sat surrounded by lights and buttons in the center of the cockpit.

  “Captain.”

  “Yes, what is it?” The captain sighed. He was a bit sad, because he’d recently been thinking about his mother.

  “Sir, the human known as El Solo Libre has been successfully zapped aboard. He’s being held in the brig, ready for execution.”

  “Let me ask you something, officer. When’s the last time you called your mother?”

  “Uh, sir, our mother’s been gone a long time. We’re brothers, remember?”

  The captain looked closely at his first officer. “Oh, that’s right. I thought you looked familiar. Sorry, Donald.”

  “It’s Douglas, sir.”

  Herbert was stuck to a wall made of what looked like a beehive’s honeycomb material. It was crusty and lumpy and had a funny smell. His hands and feet were held by the gooey gluelike slime that oozed from the porous walls. It wasn’t comfortable.

  A voice suddenly echoed from somewhere, startling him.

  “What an honor. El Solo Libre, the greatest AlienSlayer in all the universe, right here on our humble Death Cruiser.”

  The captain’s voice sounded close, but Herbert couldn’t place where it was coming from.

  Then he looked down.

  The buglike leader stood at about Herbert’s knees, grinning, with a few officers. They looked like a tiny group of angry insect elves.

  “Oh, there you are. Didn’t see you way down there.”

  The Klapthorian captain’s grin disappeared. His tiny face grew dark. The officers slowly backed away from him. Four fluttering insect wings sprung from his back.

  BZZZZZZZ…In an instant, the Captain was hovering in the air, right up in Herbert’s face.

  “Sorry, I didn’t mean that as an insult, I just—”

  “SILENCE! Your mouth has gotten you into enough trouble, AlienSlayer. It nearly cost you your planet, and now it will cost you your life. To say nothing of the pain you’ve put your mother through.”

  He buzzed to the other Klapthorian officers. They swarmed around a lever and pulled it down. The floor beneath Herbert disappeared. He hung suspended in the goopy wall above an enormous but oddly familiar-looking creature, sleeping soundly in his cage below. Herbert caught his breath.

  “Is that a real Klapthorian Death Slug?!”

  “You do know your aliens, slayer.” The captain chuckled, still fluttering in Herbert’s face. “So you must also know that there’s nothing Mr. Nibbles enjoys more after a long nap than a nice, juicy, Klapthorian nectar-dipped hunk of raw meat.”

  A million things raced through Herbert’s mind, but one odd thought in particular really annoyed him: He was about to become a human-size, honey-dipped, SuperCheezy-HERBERT-OnnaStick.

  “Well, this is ironic,” he muttered to himself.

  SHLLLLLUUUP! The ooze holding Herbert’s hands and feet made a horrible sucking noise as it began to withdraw back inside the walls.

  Herbert tried to hold on to the slime, but it was like trying to grab a fistful of snot. The goo slipped through his fingers, and he fell through the trapdoor. As he did, he reached out and grabbed something.

  BZZZZZTTT!!!

  Herbert was gripping the tiny, kicking legs of the Klapthorian captain.

  As the two of them dropped straight for the sleeping Death Slug’s head, the captain violently flapped his tiny wings like he’d never flapped before. His efforts slowed their fall to a stop in midair, where they hovered unsteadily just above the horrible creature’s head.

  BZZZZZZZZ-ZZZZZZT!

  The giant worm stirred at the buzzing near its earhole, and rolled over on its back.

  SKRONK! Its snore rattled the cage, leaving its mouth wide open. Herbert tried not to squeal as his feet dangled just above the gaping mouth full of spiraling razor teeth.

  The Klapthorian captain began yanking at Herbert’s hair.

  “Ow!”

  Herbert let go with one hand and swung on the captain’s feet with the other, throwing the struggling little bug alien into a tailspin. The two of them slammed into the side of the cage, and Herbert dropped to the floor. Finally free, the Klapthorian captain shot straight up through the trap door, shaken but glad to have gotten away.

  Mr. Nibbles opened his horrible mouth so wide the mayor’s SkyLimo could’ve parallel-parked inside. Herbert clenched his eyes shut and prepared to be eaten.

  YAAAAAAWWWWWWNNN! The Klapthorian Winged Death Slug rolled over again and fell back asleep.

  The officers buzzed around their dear leader, checking him for any injuries as they rushed him off toward his tiny cockpit.

  “Who knew El Solo Libre was so cunning! It’s fortunate we destroyed him before he could attack us.”

  “Planet Earth dead ahead, sir. Awaiting your orders.”

  The captain sat up slowly. He focused his gaze out the cockpit window, past the moon, at the Earth in the distance.

  “LUNN-CHMUNNY reading?”

  “I can’t find any LUNN-CHMUNNY, sir.”

  “I won’t break a promise to a mother. Pull a U-turn around that small, white rock up ahead. Let’s head home.”

  The two Alexes sat on a smooth, flat moon rock just outside the LunaPark Shuttle Station, staring into space.

  Old Man Alex pulled off his shoe and poured out a pile of moon dust. “Nothing to be done.”

  “I can’t believe this,” Alex said. “What time do you think the shuttle starts running?”

  “For the hundredth time, I don’t know.”

  “Well, you live here.”

  “Not here. In a cave. On the dark side of the moon. For about fifty years. Doesn’t exactly make me the shuttle schedule guy.”

  They stared out at Earth. The sun was shining its light on one side of the blue planet. It looked beautiful.

  “It’s morning in Merwinsville,” Alex said.

  “Yep.”

  A shadow began to creep across them, turning the light side of the moon suddenly dark. The older Alex looked around.

  “Man, that day flew by, huh?”

  “Wait a minute…”

  Alex stood and turned around. The darkness was blanketing everything—nearby craters, moon mountains, even LunaPark. He looked up.

  The Klapthorian Death Cruiser floated ominously overhead.

  “Oh no…that’s them! We’re too late!”

  Old Man Alex jumped to his feet.

  “We have to do something!”

  They both stood gaping at the massive ship making its way past them overhead. Alex’s mind was racing. He glanced around frantically. Nothing but rocks, rocks, and more rocks.

  “The boulders. Like you did with the MoonBat!”

  “Okay, but I really don’t see how tagging another MoonBat with a boulder is gonna do anything.”

  “No! Throw one at the ship! A big one!”

  “Oh, right. See, now that makes a lot more sense.”

  Alex began running. “C’mon! If you can hit a MoonBat fluttering around in the dark side of the moon, you can easily hit that thing!”

  The enormous ship was still passing overhead. It was almost bigger than the moon itself. Old Man Alex narrowed his gaze as he stared up at it.

  “Okay. Boulder me!”

  The two of them leaped up and over the side of a large crater. Inside were hundreds of boulders lying around in all sizes and shapes. Alex ran over to a big one.

  “Here! Quick! Throw this one! Now!”

  “Meh,” Old Man Alex said. “That one’s kinda lumpy.”

&nb
sp; “Fine!” Alex yelled. “You pick one, then! Just hurry!”

  The back of the ship now finally came into view across the lunar valley. Old Man Alex walked over to an enormous boulder. He hoisted it up over his head and began to spin around inside the crater, faster and faster. A dust swirl whipped around him. It soon looked like a boulder floating atop a small cyclone.

  HUUUURRRRMMMMPPPHHHH!

  Old Man Alex let go of the house-sized moon rock, hurling it straight at the Klapthorian Death Cruiser. As the dust settled around them, they stared up at the projectile. It faded, growing smaller and smaller as it floated toward the massive ship gliding silently overhead. By the time it reached its target, the moon boulder looked about the size of a golf ball. The ship was farther away—and much, much bigger—than either of the Alexes realized.

  “Ohpleaseohpleaseohpleaseohpleaseohpleaseohplease—”

  Ping.

  It tapped the rear end of the Klapthorian Death Cruiser’s hull like a mosquito bumping into a bus.

  But it was enough.

  Bright red brake lights lit up the back of the ship, casting a ruby-red glow across the entire face of the moon. The ship stopped in midair above them—and began backing up.

  BEEP! BEEP! BEEP! BEEP!

  “Uh-oh,” Old Man Alex said.

  “Uh-oh,” Herbert said.

  In the belly of the cruiser, he’d been slowly, carefully, quietly tiptoeing around the snoozing Klapthorian Winged Death Slug, careful not to wake it as he searched for a way to escape.

  When the ship suddenly jerked to a stop, it slammed the nasty worm’s head into the wall and woke it with a jolt.

  “RRRRROOOOAAAAAARRRR!!”

  Mr. Nibbles stirred, rising up on his tail, thrashing his head around in the air, and gnashing his pitlike mouth full of teeth.

  Herbert froze. The slug spread its leathery wings behind it and sniffed the air. It shifted its massive body around and focused on Herbert crouching in the corner.

  “Nice sluggy-wuggy…? H-h-how was your n-nap, big fellah?”

  “RRRRREEEEEEEOOOOOOOOOAAAAARRRR!!”

  In the Klapthorian cockpit, the captain’s tiny bug eyes were peering at a small screen. Two small, silver-clad figures were jumping up and down on the surface of the moon.

  “Enhance image,” he said. “And give me sound.”

  His first officer worked some dials and buttons. The image zoomed in. The two silver-clad figures’ voices could be heard through the Klapthorian cockpit speakers. Alex was doing most of the yelling.

  “Yeah! How’d you like that, huh?! You want some more?!”

  “Wait. I know that taunting voice,” the captain said.

  “You’re messing with Los Solo Libres now!” Alex continued, leaping up and down inside the crater as Old Man Alex joined in.

  “That’s right! Think you’re big and tough?! Come on down here and have a piece of this, space shrimps!”

  Everyone in the cockpit froze.

  The Klapthorian captain trembled with rage. He turned to his officers.

  Herbert was terrified. Fighting for his life, he dodged, dove, ran, and rolled all around the cavernous cage, barely avoiding the hungry snapping jaws of Mr. Nibbles.

  He managed to scurry behind the giant slug, where he was able to catch his breath, if only for a half second. As the beast lumbered around to relocate his after-nap snack, Herbert grabbed hold of the tip of his lumpy tail.

  This was not a good move.

  Mr. Nibbles felt Herbert grab him. In an instant, he snapped his tail upward, flinging Herbert high into the air.

  “AAAAHHHHHH!”

  The giant blob spun around and positioned his horrible mouth beneath Herbert, who saw the concentric rows of teeth circling deep into the depths of the huge slug’s throat. This is it, Herbert thought as he began to fall. He shut his eyes tightly and waited for the sound of his own crunching bones.

  WOOOOOOSSSHHH!

  A strange chill suddenly filled the air, and a sucking sensation seemed to pull him downward even faster. Surprised he wasn’t being chewed yet, he opened his eyes.

  Herbert was still falling toward Mr. Nibbles, but the confused creature was now also falling, beneath and away from him at a rapid pace. The bottom of the cage had disappeared. Both Herbert and Mr. Nibbles were steadily floating down onto what looked like the surface of the moon.

  The giant Death Slug spun its body around and spread its leathery wings. As it stopped its slow, low-gravity fall, Herbert landed square on its back with a gentle bump—and grabbed hold of its mealy back flesh.

  Mr. Nibbles touched down near the LunaPark Shuttle Station, where the day’s first shuttle, full of early-bird picnickers and park-goers, was just coming in for a landing. The grouchy slug-beast turned to it and let out a horrible, shrieking “RRROOOOOOOOOAAAARRRR!!”

  Everyone on the shuttle screamed back in horror as the angry space worm charged the vessel. He raised himself on his tail, using his wings to balance as Herbert clung to his back.

  Mr. Nibbles took one last giant spring and went to lunge mouth-first at the shuttle full of innocent picnickers.

  BONK!

  A large boulder bounced off the side of the space worm’s head, knocking him off course. He missed the shuttle completely. Herbert was tossed off and went sliding onto the dusty surface of the moon. He stood up as Mr. Nibbles spun around, and they both stared in disbelief at the same sight.

  Two weirdos wearing Mexican wrestling masks on their heads stood atop the edge of the crater, striking a dynamic, super-duo pose.

  “What in Newton’s name?” Herbert muttered.

  “RRRRREEEEEEEOOOOOOOOOAAAARRRR!?!” Mr. Nibbles added.

  The Klapthorian Death Slug charged the two Alexes, spreading its wings as it leaped in the air.

  “Boulder?!” Old Man Alex asked.

  “Not this time,” Alex replied. “RUN!!”

  The two of them slid down the crater just as Mr. Nibbles CRASHED headfirst into its side. They ran beneath him and bounded back to the Lunar Shuttle full of still-screaming passengers, and grabbed Herbert as they passed him.

  “Wait! Don’t go!” Alex cried out to the shuttle.

  “Alex?! Is that you?”

  “Hold the train!” hollered Old Man Alex.

  Herbert looked at the masked weirdo holding his other arm. “All right. I officially have no idea what is going on.”

  Mr. Nibbles was slightly dazed from his crater-cranium crunch and turned slowly to focus on his three snacks as they jumped onto the shuttle full of picnic-bound passengers. He shook off his dizziness, bounced into the air, and spread his wings. In a second he was lunging toward the slow-moving shuttle as it lifted off toward Earth.

  On board the cruiser, the Klapthorian captain couldn’t believe his bulgy bug eyes as he watched his pet slug chase a tourist shuttle toward Earth. Even worse, it was a shuttle he knew was transporting the real El Solo Libre.

  “We were tricked,” he seethed. “Full speed ahead—follow that Death Slug!”

  Sammi was still in shock, thinking about Herbert even as GOR-DON dragged her up onto the TransPodium. It was parked in midair above the floor of the Flee-a-seum, facing the human crowd waiting in the stands for the big celebration to begin.

  Mayor CROM-WELL waved and grinned his pearly square teeth at the crowd, soaking in their cheers as he prepared to kick off the festivities. Just outside, the G’Dalien population was waiting for his signal to begin their Great Flee enactment parade into the Flee-a-seum.

  “Quick! Before that windbag starts blabbing!” GOR-DON shoved Sammi toward the mayor. “We had a deal—now tell them!”

  Sammi was too upset to fight the evil G’Dalien. Alex was missing. Herbert was gone. She wanted more than anything to undo everything that had happened. Deep down, she wished with all her heart to just tell everyone the truth and get everything to go back to normal again. If it meant never going through the wormhole ever again, that would be fine with her.

  “Excuse
me, Mr. Mayor. May I please make an announcement?”

  Mayor CROM-WELL frowned a bit and consulted a long schedule he carried with him. “It’s not on the Flee-Festival Program—”

  “Please, sir. It’s important. I’ll be quick.”

  Mayor CROM-WELL stepped aside and gave Sammi the stage. The crowd broke into a loud cheer as they recognized the AlienSlayer. Their reaction made her feel worse about what she was about to tell them. Her small voice echoed across the jam-packed arena.

  “Um, I need to say something that should’ve been said a long time ago. This isn’t easy, but here goes. I’m sorry that my partners—my best friends—couldn’t be here today…”

  Sammi felt a lump in her throat as she tried to hold back her tears. She couldn’t believe this was happening.

  “Stupid sentimental humans!”

  GOR-DON bumped her aside as he addressed the crowd. “What she’s pathetically failing to say is that I, GOR-DON, was right all along—the AlienSlayers are FAKES!”

  There was a half second of silence. Then the crowd burst out laughing. GOR-DON was confused. He glanced down at himself.

  He was still dressed as GOR-DONNA.

  “Silence!” he yelled as he yanked off his wig. “Stop laughing! LISTEN TO ME!”

  The crowd continued to laugh, boo, and taunt him—until a voice stopped them cold.

  “He’s right.”

  Sammi stepped beside the seething alien and looked out at the stunned crowd. “We’re not AlienSlayers. We never were. We’re just three normal, boring kids. We tricked you all and we’re—I’m—so sorry.”

  Sammi hid her face in her hands and turned away. Rushing toward the back of the TransPodium, she bumped into Chicago. He put his arms around her and let her cry into his shoulder.

  “That was good,” he said. “You did the right thing.”

  “What are you doing here?”