The Girl Who Stole A Planet (Amy Armstrong Book 1)

by Stephen Colegrove

  “Did you teleport here? Because that’s pretty cool.”

  “If I said that I did, would you tell me the location of Kepler Prime?”

  “Probably not.”

  “In that case it was just a simulation,” said Nistra. “Your body is still in the confinement chamber.”

  “Why are you dressed like Chef Boyardee?”

  The sauro frowned. “Who?”

  “Like a cook in a restaurant!”

  “I don’t know what lonely farm or backwater planet you come from, human, but this hat and coat strike fear into a hundred billion life forms across the galaxy.”

  “Because you’ll eat them?”

  “Don’t be silly; we haven’t done that for ages.” The sauro scraped a sharp talon across the aluminum table, causing a horrendous metallic shriek. “You said you would tell me where my home world is. Don’t make me show the kitten again.”

  “I’ll tell you what I know and we’ll go from there. Is that okay?”

  The lizard man growled. “There is nothing reasonable about me at this point!”

  “I’ll take that as a yes. Anyway, I was in California, trying to steal a gold Super Nintendo from this rich kid––”

  A clipboard and pen snapped into existence in Nistra’s hands and he began to write.

  “California? Is that in the Orion sector? I’ll have to check SpaceBook.”

  “It’s on Earth. Hello?”

  “Hello,” said Nistra, confused.

  “Old Earth,” said Amy. “In 1995.”

  Nistra sighed. “Tell me the year in P.E. numbers. What star date?”

  “Star date? I don’t know.”

  Nistra crossed out a few lines. “Never mind, I’ll just make something up. Continue.”

  “So I almost had the thing, when this orange cat shows up and teleports me into the future. Here. Well, not HERE here, but the Lady’s spaceship. The hollowed-out asteroid one?”

  “What’s the name of the orange cat?”

  “Sunflower.”

  “Ugh. Cat hipsters,” growled the sauro. “Continue.”

  “So I skulked around the inside of the ship for a bit, met another human, and we helped him go back to his time. His dimension, I mean. Turns out it wasn’t even the right dimension. We got chased by a flying robot and I broke my arm and foot, so we came back to the future. To now. To whatever. The Lady said Kepler Prime was missing because of some gravity rift, and then you lizard psychos showed up and took me away in handcuffs. Can I get a drink of water or a Fanta or something?”

  Nistra continued to write for a moment. When he finished, the lizard man squinted hard at Amy.

  “This is a simulation! Why would you need to drink anything?”

  Amy nodded. “I guess you can’t do it. Hey, no problem. I mean, we do hologram drinks where I’m from all the time, but we’re just backwoods farmers. You lizards are much more advanced.”

  Nistra gave her a black look. The sauro pulled a dog-eared manual from his white coat, flipped through it for a moment, then snapped his claw-like fingers. A can of grape Fanta appeared on the desk.

  Amy popped the tab and took a swig.

  “Good gravy,” she said. “This is warm. Your dumb computer couldn’t program a cold can of Fanta?”

  Nistra waved his clipboard wildly. “The silly fantastical story you’ve just told me doesn’t have any mention of where my planet is!”

  “That’s because it isn’t anywhere at all. We linked all the dimensional teleporters on the Dream Tiger into one circuit.” Amy thought back to all the sci-fi clichés she’d heard. “The planet was the largest mass nearby, and the energy surge from the dimensional jump must have reversed its polarity. It’s right in front of you, but a second behind the universe!”

  Nistra screamed and swatted the air around his head. “In front of me?!!”

  “Not you. Out in space, where it’s supposed to be.”

  “Yes, of course. That makes more sense.”

  A pair of heavy thumps shook the room and Amy glanced at the ceiling.

  “That sounded like an asteroid strike,” she said. “Maybe a space toilet. Do space toilets make that much noise when you flush?”

  Nistra glowered at her. “There’s no such thing as a space toilet. Is this what you stupid humans call a joke?”

  “No toilets? Is everyone wearing space diapers?”

  A series of heavy vibrations rattled the room and a high-pitched alarm began to warble. The table and chairs, Nistra, the entire room disappeared. Amy found herself back in the spherical womb of her prison cell.

  She sighed. “At least you still like me, Mister Space Egg Prison.”

  The curved floor bounced violently and the lights clicked off, throwing the room into complete darkness.

  “Aw, nuts.”

  Amy felt all the weight leave her body, as if she were in a roller coaster that had just crested a hill and now hurtled down the other side. She spun slowly through the air for a few seconds, arms outstretched, and then a gentle force pressed her against a wall and kept her there.

  Yorkshire, 1889

  The faint ticking of a clock and the earthy smell of fresh cotton were the first things she noticed. Then pain flashed through her numb consciousness, and Amy groaned.

  “She’s waking up! Get the doctor,” hissed the voice of Lady Marlborough.

  Footsteps padded on carpet and door hinges squealed.

  The pain in her left side made it difficult to breathe, and Amy barely felt the quilt covering her and the soft mattress of the bed below. The back of her head throbbed with a strange numbness, and she reached back to touch it. A sting of terrible, white-hot pain shot through her right arm and Amy yelled.

  “Ow ow ow ow!”

  “Please don’t move, Miss Armstrong,” said the voice of Lady Marlborough. “You’ve broken an arm and possibly your foot.”

  Amy blinked through tears of pain and opened her eyes. Overhead waved the pale fabric of a bedroom canopy, and flowered yellow wallpaper covered the walls. The bed shivered as Philip’s mother moved to Amy’s side and gently moved Amy’s splinted and gauzed-wrapped arm down to her side.

  “What happened?” Amy whispered.

  Lady Marlborough smiled sympathetically. “A wall of that old quarry collapsed in an avalanche of rock. Philip led you there and put your life at risk like the silly, irresponsible child he is. Poor dear! How were you supposed to know the danger in that old mine? At least Philip had enough sense to dig through the stone and carry you and the cat home.”

  “How is he?”

  “Philip? He’s as fit as houses. I wish those rocks had knocked a bit of sense into the boy. Imagine taking a delicate flower like yourself into that filthy, perilous quarry!”

  Amy coughed. “No, I mean my cat.”

  “He’s right at your feet. You know what they say about cats and their nine lives.”

  Amy lifted her head slightly and looked down to the foot of the bed. Sunflower lay curled up with his tail around his nose, and blinked his green eyes lazily.

  “He’s used up two or three today,” whispered Amy, and lay back on the pillow.

  “You mean yesterday,” said Lady Marlborough. “You’ve slept through an entire day, dear girl.”

  “I feel like an elephant sat on me.”

  “What a colorful metaphor,” said Lady Marlborough. “If you don’t mind, I’d like to telegraph your parents. I assume the San Francisco office? What is your father’s name?”

  “I don’t remember.”

  Lady Marlborough dabbed at Amy’s forehead with a damp cloth.

  “Poor Miss Armstrong. You’ve hit your head worse than we thought. But never mind! I’m certain Philip will remember your father’s name, or we can look him up in the book. There can’t be that many wealthy Armstrongs in California!”

  “You’d be surprised,” said Amy weakly. “We made it to the Moon.”

  “Oh, dear. That must be the laudanum he gave you.”

 
The door opened and a bald, white-bearded gentleman in a black three-piece suit walked in. He held a leather satchel in one hand.

  “Pardon me, Lady Marlborough,” he said with a Scottish accent. “I wonder if I might ask the wee lass a few questions.”

  “By all means, Doctor Miller,” said Lady Marlborough. “I’ll leave you to it.”

  “Och, there’s no need to leave, your ladyship. No need at all.”

  “Quite the opposite. I need to find out where Philip has scampered off to. If you’ll excuse me, please.”

  Lady Marlborough closed the door as she left, and Amy and Sunflower were alone with the doctor. He smiled in a grandfatherly manner and stepped to the foot of the bed.

  “You’ve been in a terrible accident, Miss Armstrong, but quite fortuitously I happened to be at a nearby farm yesterday and was here within minutes. How are you feeling today?”

  “Like I was hit by a ton of bricks.”

  The doctor nodded and rummaged in his bag. “That proves your head’s no mince, lassie. Now, I’ll perform an examination if you’ve no objection. Can you point to where it aches?”

  Amy winced. “It hurts to point.”

  “Och, no. I meant on this wee doll.”

  The doctor held a figurine of a nude woman, as featureless as a Barbie dipped in nail polish remover and hit with a belt sander a few times. The model seemed to be carved from pale ivory and reclined on a small strip of darkly stained and lacquered wood.

  The doctor touched the head of the figurine. “Is this where it aches?”

  “It hurts everywhere. You’re a doctor, right? Pull down the blanket and look yourself.”

  “I’ve no mind to offend you, lassie, especially with Lady Marlborough here and gone. It’s the old ways that have stood me tried and true, and I’ll protect the modesty of a young lass when I can.”

  “After what’s happened the last few days I don’t think I have any modesty left. The last scrap flew away when I was unconscious and someone changed me into this nightgown. Where’s my dress?”

  “Aye, it was a bonnie dress,” said the doctor. “You’ll be no happy to hear it was torn to ribbons and stained with blood. Now tell me, do you remember anything before the rocks came down on top of ye?”

  Amy closed her eyes for a moment. “Something was chasing us, that’s I can say. Then I woke up in this bed, my head throbbing, arm broken, and knives stabbing my sides. Breathing in and out feels like hard work.”

  “There’s a poultice on your ribs,” said the doctor. “We splinted your arm and foot yesterday, and time will sort out the rest. Enough time in bed, of course.”

  “How much exactly? When can I leave?”

  “You have a well-meaning heart, lassie, I know you’re thinking on the burden ye might have to Lady Marlborough and Clarence House. But it’s no good worrying on it; you’re to lay in bed another week and not leave this room for another two. Longer in bed is better than the grave.”

  Amy gasped. “Impossible! I can’t stay here.”

  “Your body needs to recover from several great blows, and I’m not spinning a yarn when I say you can’t leave this bed and not risk dying. Don’t worry about putting Lady Marlborough out by tarrying in bed. The grand lady has a great feeling of guilt on the matter, seeing as it was her son that led you down the primrose path to the quarry.”

  A knock sounded at the door.

  “Enter!”

  Philip eased into the room, his face pale and jaw slack.

  “Speak of the devil,” said the doctor. “I can see you’re still worried about the bonnie lass, but don’t go on about it any longer. As long as she rests in bed, Miss Armstrong will be as fit as a fiddle.”

  Philip blinked at the doctor with glazed eyes, then stared at Amy.

  “That’s not the problem,” he whispered.

  A woman’s scream echoed through the mansion.

  “Och, there’s my call,” said Doctor Miller, and sprinted out of the room with his bag.

  Amy sighed and winced at the pain in her ribs. “What’s the real problem? Did you see another ghost?”

  Philip licked his lips and stared at a spot on the wall above Amy’s head.

  “Do you remember what I said yesterday? About mother being too nice, and father strangely being dead?”

  “From what you said about your family, both of those sounded like improvements.”

  Philip twitched his head left and right in tiny, shivering movements.

  “That’s just it. They’re not my family at all.”

  The thump of footsteps on carpet came from the hallway, and Lady Marlborough burst into the room, face red and teeth clenched. She stood in front of Philip with her fists balled at her waist.

  “Who are you?!!”

  Philip bowed his head. “Lady Marlborough, I’m your son. Whatever happens, that is still the truth.”

  “How dare you invade my house and family! I knew something was wrong the moment I laid eyes on you. You and this odd American girl.”

  “Don’t pull me into this,” groaned Amy, and lay back on the pillow.

  “A pair of swindlers,” hissed Lady Marlborough. “A pair of burglars!”

  A murmur of male voices came from the hallway and three young men walked into the room.

  All three wore jackets, trousers, and soft caps of light brown tweed. Amy glanced between Lady Marlborough, the three young men, and Philip. A strong family resemblance lay in the eyes, nose, and deep black hair of all five. Two of the young men were taller and muscular, but the other was a shorter and younger version of––

  “Philip!” shouted Amy, causing Sunflower to spring several feet in the air.

  Both the new boy and Philip stared at her and spoke in unison.

  “Yes?”

  Amy lay back on the pillow. “Check, please,” she whispered.

  The new Philip turned to Lady Marlborough. “Mother! Is this some kind of joke?”

  “It’s not a joke,” said Philip. “And especially unfunny.”

  One of the older boys burst out laughing. “Oh, I think it is. What a great trick, Mummy! I don’t know how but you’ve found a perfectly wizard doppelganger of Phil. We’ll bring him to parties and have a smashing good time! Is he a traveling apprentice? A cousin of one of the servants?”

  Lady Marlborough stamped her foot and startled everyone in the room.

  “He’s nothing of the sort! He came here pretending to be you. If it weren’t for the accident at the quarry, I expect these two would have scampered off with the silverware and every scrap of jewelry I own!”

  “Not true,” murmured Philip. “I just wanted to come home. I’m really your son.”

  “It is kind of true, the part about the jewels,” said Amy.

  “I don’t see how you mistook him for me, mother,” said doppelganger Philip. “He’s got such a beastly, common face!”

  The tallest brother giggled and pointed at Amy. “She was with him? You should have known it wasn’t Philip, mother. He’s absolutely the worst with the female sex.”

  Doppelganger Philip turned red. “Shut up, you troll!”

  “What? I’ll box your little ears!”

  “Quiet, both of you,” said Lady Marlborough. “Doctor Miller, would you do me a favor? Please ride into the village and fetch the constable.”

  “Aye, my lady, but the poor lassie––”

  “Doctor Miller!”

  “Of course, my lady, of course.”

  The grandfatherly figure left the crowd of servants at the door, his bulky footsteps noisily creaking over the hallway floor.

  Lady Marlborough jabbed her finger at Philip’s nose. “And you, miscreant. I’ll have you locked up for the rest of your life!”

  Philip bowed his head. “Do you remember when I was three? I shucked off all of my clothes and ran to the village, completely naked.”

  “Everyone knows that story,” said one of the older brothers.

  Doppelganger Philip sniffed. “Unfortunately, that
’s true.”

  “My actual son is right,” said Lady Marlborough. “You could have heard that from any milkmaid in the village.”

  “How about the January you fell ill, right before the trip to France? When you couldn’t bear to be alone and forced me to stay here with you?”

  “Common knowledge,” said Lady Marlborough. “Come on, out with it. Any other tales you’ve stolen from my real son?”

  Philip turned red and straightened up. “Only one. I’m certain you remember the mishap with father’s hunting rifle? There wasn’t any ‘accidental discharge’ in the library. I know, because I was hiding there. You confronted father about the woman he’d been seeing in London, and fired it point-blank at his chest. Luckily, the shot missed its mark, or––”

  Lady Marlborough’s face turned purple and she slapped Philip across the cheek. “Who told you that horrible lie?”

  “Finally, the dear mother I know,” said Philip, rubbing his face. “All of these pleasantries were simply an act. Your heart is as black and uncaring as ever.”

  “I refuse to be pulled into an argument with a common thief. You and this American trollop will be thrown in prison for so long, you’ll forget what the sun looks like!”

  Doppelganger Philip and his two brothers pulled Lady Marlborough away, and then crowded around Philip.

  “Don’t worry, mummy,” said the doppelganger, and poked a finger in Philip’s chest. “We’ll teach this pilfering layabout a thing or two before the constable arrives.”

  Amy lifted her left hand and waved. “Hello? Can the trollop on the bed get more painkillers before you do that?”

  The three boys stared at her. This was Amy’s intention and gave Philip a slight opening. He pushed new Philip away and pulled a black revolver from his jacket pocket.

  “Back, you monsters! Get back!”

  Philip pointed the revolver at the boys and waved them toward the door.

  “You’re a mad one,” murmured doppelganger Philip, his hands in the air.

  “This is such a dastardly waste,” said the tallest brother. “He would have been a grand trick.”

  The third brother laughed. “I bet it’s not even loaded!”

  Philip pointed the revolver at the ceiling and pulled the trigger. A deafening crack burst from the revolver and filled the room with the sulfur and carbon smell of gunpowder. Philip extended his arm and aimed the revolver at the three boys.