Into the Dorkness

by John Kloepfer

  “Why would they want to do that?” Kevin asked.

  “Because it’ll be that much easier to take over the planet,” Klyk said, “if you guys are a bunch of mindless automatons.”

  “All campers must report for processing immediately,” the dull monotone voice repeated.

  Alien brain processing? Kevin thought. Thanks, but no thanks.

  Bam-bam-bam! Three loud knocks rapped on the door followed by three more. Bam-bam-bam! The hinges shook, and the wood around the door frame started to splinter as the robo-counselor began to kick the door down.

  Wham-crack! The brainwashed counselor’s arm exploded through the center panel of the door like a karate master punching through a block of wood. She reached her arm through the jagged opening and twisted the doorknob with a click. The door creaked open, and Marcy’s soccer counselor stood in the doorway, her chest heaving, breathing heavily through her nostrils like a raging bull. Bright red lines of fresh blood trickled down the knuckles on her hand, a fact she seemed to care nothing about. The counselor’s ink-black eyes seemed to scan all their faces.

  “Whereabouts located,” her robotic voice intoned. “All earthlings must report for processing.”

  “Fat chance, lady!” TJ said, grabbing a pillow off one of the bunk beds. He cranked it back, holding the pillowcase tightly, and drilled the brainwashed soccer counselor in the side of her head.

  POW!

  Her head snapped to one side but she didn’t budge an inch. Kevin squinted through his glasses and stared at the counselor’s neck. He could see a swollen puncture wound at the nape that resembled a giant spider bite.

  The soccer coach glared down at TJ. Her blank, glossed-over eyes shuttered down to black alien irises. TJ dropped the pillow on the cabin floor and squealed, jumping back to hide behind Marcy.

  “You wanna play rough?” Tara said, and pulled out the telepathy helmet from Kevin’s backpack. She placed it on her head and hit the power switch, training her gaze on the soccer camp counselor. The alien psychic technology flashed with brainwave energy and pulsed with a mechanical hum.

  The brainwashed counselor froze in the doorway, unable to move, caught between two conflicting neural impulses. Tara focused all her mental strength on the soccer coach.

  Kevin, Warner, TJ, and Marcy scurried past the counselor. They all jumped down off the steps of the cabin and hit the ground running, making a beeline for the border of the forest across the way.

  “Tara, come on!” Kevin shouted, doubling back to wait for his teammate lagging behind. “Let’s go!” But Tara was still standing locked in a psychic trance with the brainwashed soccer counselor. “Tara!” Kevin shouted again, and watched as the telepathy helmet started to go haywire on top of Tara’s head.

  The lights on the alien headpiece spewed sparks and the motor emitted an awful sound like silverware in a garbage disposal.

  Tara’s eyes rolled to the back of her skull, and Kevin raced to her aid. Taking hold of the helmet, he tugged at it hard with both hands. The mind-reading device came loose and shocked Kevin with such force that the volt of electricity surged up his arms and sent him back reeling against the wall.

  Tara and the soccer counselor collapsed together in the aftermath of their mental standoff. Kevin popped back up and shook the shock from his arms. It stung pretty badly, but he was okay. He rushed over to Tara’s side and helped her to her feet as she came out of the trance.

  “Tara?” Kevin asked her. “You all right?”

  “I could see it!” she cried. “I could see what they’re going to do!”

  Kevin looked up as the soccer counselor rose from a slumped heap on the floor and blocked the doorway. Tara snapped to attention and bolted forward, diving between the counselor’s legs and scampering out the door.

  “Kevin Brewer must be captured,” the counselor said in a monotone. “Kevin Brewer must be captured.” She lifted her arms and grabbed him.

  “Not today,” Kevin said, and picked up the pillow TJ had dropped and slugged the counselor in the back of her knees. The brainwashed soccer coach fell down and lost her grip on Kevin, who took off after Tara, slamming the door shut behind him.

  The two of them sprinted toward the edge of the woods and caught up with Warner, TJ, and Marcy. Together, the five of them along with Klyk tiptoed slyly through the woods back toward Northwest Horizons, on the lookout for the Kamilion guard. Dirt and twigs crunched beneath their feet. Their footsteps grew silent as they entered the outer circumference of the freeze-ray bomb’s blast area.

  “What happened back there?” Warner asked.

  “It was awful,” Tara said, pinching the skin between her eyebrows. “Zouric and Nuzz are going to brainwash everyone.”

  “How are they going to do it?” TJ asked. “Could you see it?”

  “I’m not sure,” she said, wincing as she tried to picture what she had seen while strapped into the telepathy helmet. “It was something to do with—”

  “Ouch!” Marcy cried out suddenly, and grabbed the back of her neck.

  “What is it, Marcy?” Kevin asked.

  “Something bit me!” She breathed in and out quickly, starting to hyperventilate.

  An electronic buzz droned in the air. Something about the size of a hummingbird fluttered in the corner of Kevin’s eye. Its face had a long metallic needle protruding like the snout of a large mosquito.

  The alien robot bug levitated to and fro overhead, ready to strike.

  Marcy stood stock-still, clasping the nape of her neck where the robotic bug had stung her. Her hand then flopped down to the side, and her neck hung with her chin touching her chest. A few seconds later, her head lifted up, and her eyes were glassy, blank, and evil.

  “Kevin Brewer must be captured,” droned Marcy.

  “She’s one of them now!” TJ shouted.

  “Duck!” Tara cried. “That alien bug is coming right at us!”

  The nanobug dive-bombed the group, and they all flinched away, batting at the air as it buzzed around their heads. It landed on the back of Kevin’s neck, and he felt its legs pricking his skin. He swatted the extraterrestrial pest to the ground before it could puncture the skin.

  The mechanical insect floundered in the dirt with a broken wing, unable to resume its aerial attack. The insecto-bot leaked out a batch of bluish goo from a synthetic pouch located on its underbelly. Kevin bent over and studied the blue alien fluid. The liquid churned in the dirt, wriggling around as if it had somewhere better, more productive to be.

  “It’s like this stuff has a mind of its own,” Kevin observed. “It must be some kind of super-sophisticated nanotechnology. You know, like microscopic robots that can be introduced into a person’s bloodstream.”

  “Thanks, Kev,” said Tara. “I think we all know what nanotechnology is. . . .”

  “That’s what Zouric and Nuzz must be using on the Kamilions,” said Warner. “Probably some sort of mind-control nanoserum.”

  “Their nanoscience must be really advanced,” Kevin said, turning to Klyk. “Do you know anything about it?”

  “I’m no scientist,” said Klyk. “But Zouric and Nuzz are wanted for stealing top secret military technology from the interplanetary alliance.”

  “Hmm.” TJ thought about that for a moment, examining the fallen nanobug. “It must inject into the spinal cord, which allows them to take over the host’s brain function. . . .”

  “That makes sense,” said Klyk. “It’s the only reason why the Kamilions would be taking orders from those two scuzzbuckets.”

  “This is bad, you guys,” Warner said. “We have to get to Max Greyson’s house as soon as possible.”

  “Hey,” Tara said. “Where did Marcy go?”

  Kevin looked around for their new friend, but she was nowhere in sight. In the distance, a high-pitched whistle screeched through the thick, hot summer air. The four of them whipped their heads around.

  Kevin spotted Marcy between two pine trees near the edge of the forest, calling he
r fellow soccer campers over to follow her. The entire all-girls soccer camp was jogging across the fields toward the woods, their eyes as black as Marcy’s.

  They were coming right for them.

  Kevin bolted away from the herd of brainwashed soccer campers. He darted through the trees, which were still frozen stiff from the freeze-ray bomb detonation. A light wind whistled through the forest, but the foliage and treetops stayed motionless in the slight breeze. Their footsteps were silent, too, as they sprinted over the solid terrain.

  Kevin stopped at the edge of the clearing, panting heavily, out of breath. The fire pit was still warm from their Invention Convention celebration. The graham cracker box lay on its side, spilling crumbs onto the ground beside an open bag of marshmallows now covered in a colony of tiny red ants. Next to the s’mores ingredients, three of their former counselors—Nick, Cody, and Bailey—were still prisoners in the blocks of plasma Klyk and his bounty hunter friends had mistakenly shot them with the night before.

  Warner, Tara, and TJ jogged over next to their team leader, huffing and puffing as well. They had to move fast. The brainwashed camp of soccer girls would be there in less than a minute.

  “My spaceship’s right there.” Klyk perched on Kevin’s shoulder and pointed to an empty space straight over their heads.

  Kevin tilted his head back. The treetop peaked no less than thirty feet off the ground.

  “How are we supposed to get up there?” Tara asked.

  “Anybody got a jet pack?” Warner asked sarcastically.

  “Looks like we’re going to have to climb,” Kevin said.

  TJ looked nervous. “I’ve never climbed a tree before.”

  “Me neither,” Warner said. “Not a huge fan of this outdoorsy stuff.”

  “Ditto . . . ,” said Tara.

  “Come on,” Kevin said incredulously. “You guys never climbed a tree?”

  His three friends shook their heads no.

  Suddenly, out of the trees shot a soccer ball. It sailed through the air and drilled TJ in the side of the head. The kids whirled around and squinted into the forest thicket. More than a hundred brainwashed girl soccer campers charged toward the clearing, ready to capture them and bring them to Zouric and Nuzz.

  “Well”—Kevin shrugged—“there’s a first time for everything.”

  Warner cracked his neck to one side and jogged in place, limbering up for the climb. Tara took two awkward steps and jumped, grabbing onto the lowest tree branch. She did a chin-up, swung her leg over, and then stood up. Warner hopped up next, and then Kevin gave TJ a boost onto the first branch of the pine tree. With Klyk on his shoulder, Kevin clambered up last and they started their climb, one branch at a time.

  “See that big branch way up there?” Klyk pointed up the trunk. “We need to get up there. That’s where the ladder is!”

  Midway up the tree, Kevin looked down from the bird’s-eye view. Big mistake. The brainwashed soccer campers and their counselors emerged from the tree line and filled up the clearing.

  Marcy stood at the front of the pack, staring up at Kevin.

  Kevin locked eyes with their new friend turned alien brainwashee.

  “Over here! Target located and locked,” droned Marcy.

  Kevin swiveled his head in the direction of the science camp. On the other side of the clearing, two duos of reptilian guardsmen prowled toward him. They stepped out of the woods, gazing up at Kevin and his pals.

  The brainwashed soccer girls surrounded the base of the tree trunk. The Kamilions pushed through the crowd of soccer campers and positioned themselves beneath the tree, aiming their photon blasters straight up the trunk.

  PYOO! PYOO! The laser beams streaked upward through the tree branches. The first blast whizzed by them and grazed Kevin’s shorts, singeing the fabric. The second shot missed them completely and nailed a hefty branch in an explosion of freeze-rayed tree bark.

  “Don’t look down!” Klyk yelled. “Keep going!”

  Careful to lift their chins up, Kevin, Warner, TJ, and Tara started to step out onto a limb of the pine.

  “Out there,” Klyk said, gesturing toward the end of the tree’s limb. He activated the computer connected to his eye to detect the invisibility shield concealing the spacecraft. “You can grab the ladder from there.”

  “What ladder?” Kevin asked, looking out toward the end of the branch.

  “You’ll come to it. Trust me,” Klyk said, straining to be heard over the girls and photon blasts below.

  Kevin shimmied out cautiously to the end of the branch, maintaining his balance like a tightrope walker.

  His foot hit a knot in the tree bark and he wobbled to the side, leaning to catch himself. He righted his posture and regained his balance. “Phew!” Kevin gasped and wiped the sweat from his brow with the back of his hand.

  “Okay, now,” the little alien said into Kevin’s ear. “The drop ladder should be hanging right in front of you.”

  “Should be?” Kevin asked.

  “You just want us to drop off this branch and grab onto an invisible ladder with nothing to break our fall?” Warner asked. “Are you nuts?”

  “You must trust me,” Klyk begged them. “There are people on your planet who don’t believe in aliens because they haven’t ever seen one. But that does not mean they do not exist.”

  Kevin peered down at the brainwashed mob crowding beneath them.

  Two of the soccer camp girls had started to climb the tree, moving steadily from one branch to the next.

  PYOO! PYOO! PYOO! Three more shots zipped right past Kevin’s head. “Whoa!” Kevin ducked and crouched on the branch, almost knocking into Tara, who stood behind him.

  “Hey, watch it.” Tara reached out and steadied herself, clutching Kevin’s backpack. “Wait a minute. Hold still,” she said, unzipping the bag and rummaging around. She then pulled out a can of black spray paint from when she designed the logo for the galactascope. “It’s okay. You can say it.”

  Warner looked at her funny. “Say what?”

  “How smart I am.” She smirked.

  Tara took the can and aimed the nozzle where Klyk had just told them the ladder was hanging. Black mist dusted the invisible ladder and a few seconds later they could make out the rungs dangling in front of them.

  “That was pretty smart, Tara.” TJ gave her a fist bump.

  “It’s a tough job.” She smiled. “But someone’s got to do it.”

  “I didn’t know bragging was considered a job,” Warner joked.

  “Guys, come on, let’s get out of here!” Kevin reached from the branch and grabbed the now visible rungs. He scaled the ladder first, with Klyk clinging to his pack, followed by Tara, then Warner, and finally TJ.

  It looked like they were levitating in thin air, climbing up toward the sky. All Kevin could see were the tops of the trees and the Oregon wilderness splayed out for miles. It would have been beautiful had he not glanced over his right shoulder and seen Zouric and Nuzz’s alien mother ship hovering ominously over their science camp. Kevin reached the top rung and, following Klyk’s directions, pulled himself into the unseen hatch of the invisible spaceship.

  A few steps later, Kevin was inside a super-high-tech space shuttle. Tara, Warner, and TJ crawled in next and they all stood up inside the spaceship.

  The interior gleamed with panels of polished silver. The driver’s seat sat front and center before a large rectangular windshield with a panoramic view close to 180 degrees. A transparent touch screen hung down in front of the seat from the vaulted dome ceiling. To the rear of the saucer-shaped craft, three large, fancy computer screens were situated in front of three copilot seats, one facing due south and the other two facing east and west.

  “Whoa! This thing is sweet!” Warner jumped into the pilot seat at the front of the space cruiser. “What do I do?”

  “Hit that metal switch and push up that lever,” Klyk said. Warner did as he was told, and the spacecraft rumbled to life.

  Klyk showed
Warner the control panel. There was a shiny silver joystick next to the armrest. “That controls the thrust of the engine. Forward is go. If you pull back you’ll stop.

  “Now, by your left hand, that sphere is for your palm to control steering and maneuvering,” Klyk told him. “That button on your right is for the invisibility shield. The one next to it will activate the force field. Both of them can’t be on at the same time.”

  ZVRF! ZVRF! ZVRF! Three ray gun blasts pelted the side of the spacecraft. The alien machinery to the left of the steering column flashed with bright orange sparks and started to smoke.

  “The communication system!” Klyk shouted in anguish. “Activate the force field!”

  Warner tapped the button, and the force field activated.

  Kevin could feel the technological pulse enveloping the entire ship.

  Marcy and three other soccer camp girls now climbed the pine tree, only one branch away from the spray-painted ladder. Kevin bent down and pulled the ladder up out of reach as three more reptilian laser blasts whizzed past his arm.

  ZVRF! ZVRF! ZVRF!

  Kevin looked down and squinted through his glasses. On the ground below them, two figures appeared at the fringe of the forest thicket: Zouric and Nuzz. Kevin gasped as Zouric sprang into action. The long, Gumby-like alien slug-man strode through the horde of his brainwashed subjects and bounded off his thin, lean, gelatinous legs with an impressive eight-foot vertical leap.

  “Get us out of here, Warner!” Kevin shouted over the zip-zap sounds zinging through the air. “This guy’s got some serious hops!”

  Zouric cat-leaped past the soccer girls halfway up the trunk and swung on a large pinewood branch, flipping around completely as if he were a gymnast on a set of uneven bars. He then flung himself airborne and reached for the spacecraft. His alien fingers stretched, ready to latch onto the metal edge along the alien ship’s exterior. Kevin heard a clunk as the gigantic Gastropod grabbed onto the force field surrounding their spacecraft instead.