Class Pet Catastrophe

by Bruce Coville

  It wasn’t easy to get Misty to repeat her story, and I had just gotten her started when something in the command pod made an alarming sound.

  “Wait!” said Meenom sharply. He touched a roller ball.

  Misty gasped. Well, so did I. An image of Tim’s face had appeared in the air in front of us.

  “Tim Tompkins, calling Meenom!” it said. “Emergency. Emergency!”

  We heard some weird noises, and Tim’s face disappeared.

  Meenom, looking terribly alarmed, shouted for McNally. Misty and I managed to stay attached to the group as we hurried to the limousine.

  “Where are we going?” asked McNally.

  “Follow the tracking device,” said Meenom, passing a round, purple object to Ralph-the-Driver.

  “Quickly!”

  I didn’t know limos could go that fast.

  * * *

  Misty told Meenom most of her story while we were riding. She was just finishing when the limo pulled up in front of the school.

  McNally and Meenom shot out of the car and hurried toward the building. I glanced at Misty. She nodded, and the two of us took off after them.

  By the time they reached our classroom, we were right at their heels.

  We had to pick our way over the splintered remains of the door to get inside. Once we did, we found the most astonishing sight: Tim and Pleskit, sitting on top of an eight-foot-long woodchuck. The Veeblax was scampering back and forth between them, changing shape as it went, as if it were so excited, it couldn’t hold one form for long.

  “What in the name of Skatwag’s Seven Moons has been going on here?” roared Meenom.

  Pleskit immediately looked frightened. “You can’t take the Veeblax!” he cried, snatching up the little creature and cradling it to his chest.

  “I don’t intend to,” said Meenom, though his voice was still stern. “We have some new information that has altered the situation. But what is this… this thing that you are sitting on? And where did you get that animal control device?” he added, gesturing to the ray gun that Pleskit was holding.

  “Uh… we dropped it, sir,” said a voice from behind us.I

  * * *

  Meenom swung aound. Standing just outside the doorway were two uniformed aliens. One looked rather like a fish. The other looked astonishingly human, or would have if it hadn’t been for her four eyes.

  “You dropped it?” roared Meenom.

  “We were not advised that we would be facing such a large creature,” said the fishy-looking alien. “Our assignment was to collect a Veeblax, not a huge, furry monster.”

  “So you let my childling and his friend immobilize the creature instead?” asked Meenom scornfully.

  The fishy-looking alien held up a webbed hand. The other alien folded her hands over her chest and closed three of her four eyes.

  Meenom made a noise that could only mean disgust. Turning back to Pleskit, he said, “Do you have any idea where this creature came from?”

  Pleskit bowed his head and said, “I fear its existence is my fault, O Fatherly One. I believe that after it escaped from its cage, it began to eat the food I had brought to school for the Veeblax. In fact, I suspect it escaped specifically to get at the food, which it seemed to find most enticing. Alas, the Veeblax chow caused Harold to grow at a bizarre rate.”

  “We think he got addicted to the stuff,” added Tim. “He’s been following Pleskit everywhere, trying to get more.”

  “Only, he’s naturally a pretty shy kind of creature,” added Pleskit. “So he didn’t actually come after me until his cravings were out of control. At least, that’s our theory.”

  “The Veeblax chow had one other side effect,” said Tim. “It seems to have affected Harold’s digestive system. He’s been cutting farts o’ doom that just about stripped the paint off the wall. I was afraid they were going to kill us all!”

  Meenom turned to the aliens standing outside the door. “As you have utterly failed in your assigned mission, why don’t you make yourself useful and take this poor creature to be returned to his normal size?”

  “They won’t hurt him, will they?” cried Pleskit as the alien Animal Control officers attached what I can only assume were antigravity disks to Harold’s bloated body and floated him out of the room.

  “They’re merely going to detoxify him,” said Meenom. “The creature will be fine when they’re done—which is more than I can say for you,” he added darkly. His face softened a little. “Fortunately—and largely due to your friend Linnsy—the Veeblax has gotten a reprieve.”

  “It has?” cried Pleskit. The joy in his voice was wonderful to hear.

  “What happened?” cried Tim.

  “Tell them,” said Meenom, turning to Misty.

  Sniffing a little, obviously working to keep from breaking out in tears, Misty said, “The reason the Veeblax glommed on to me that day was that I had snitched some Veeblax chow and put it in my shirt pocket.”

  “What did you do that for?” asked Pleskit, looking totally confused.

  Misty wiped her arm across her face to take care of her nose, which was starting to run. “I w-w-w-wanted to get the Veeblax to come to me.”

  “Why didn’t you say something before this?” demanded Pleskit.

  “I w-w-w-was afraid! And the longer things went on, the m-m-m-more afraid I got. I haven’t been able to s-s-s-sleep all week because I w-w-w-was so upset.”

  I wanted to whack her. After all that everyone had been through because of her little stunt, she wanted us to feel sorry for her! But that was just like Misty.

  “That’s not enough,” said Pleskit.

  I blinked in surprise. “What do you want?” I asked. “Should I get her to sign a confession in blood?”

  “Euuuw,” said Pleskit. “That would be disgusting! No, I mean it’s not enough to explain the Veeblax’s behavior that day. Yes, the Veeblax chow in her pocket would have made it jump for Misty like that. But it certainly wouldn’t have made it cling to her so desperately.”

  At that moment the Veeblax let out a horrible shriek. It began to shudder and moan, vibrating as if it were in a blender.

  Then its foot fell off!

  “That’s it!” cried Pleskit happily. “At last it all makes sense!”

  I. Actually, what the voice said was “Deetpo izzle skittin perdangi.” Pleskit translated it, and the rest of the conversation that follows, for me afterward.

  CHAPTER 21 [TIM]

  BIOLOGY

  When the Veeblax’s foot fell off, I screamed.

  “No, no, it’s fine,” said Pleskit. “The Veeblax is getting ready to reproduce. That’s why it acted that way the other day with Misty. When a shape-shifter enters gorkle, it is in a needy and unstable situation. I knew the food alone wasn’t enough to explain what happened. And just going into gorkle wouldn’t have done it either. But the two situations together… well, I’m sure that’s what happened.”

  “I believe you are correct, my childling,” said Meenom.

  “Care to translate for those of us who are not totally up to speed on the biology of alien pets?” asked Linnsy.

  “Certainly,” said Pleskit. “Like all other Hevi-Hevian shape-shifters, the Veeblax has two modes of reproduction. One is a fairly standard mating practice, much like most higher animals on Earth. But if a Veeblax is taken from its normal surroundings, or deprived of a mating complex, or both, then it may go into gorkle instead.”

  “And just what is gorkle?” asked Misty.

  “Let me think for a second,” said Pleskit, and I could tell he was running through everything he knew about the biology of Earth animals. “Okay,” he said after a minute. “When a shape-shifter like the Veeblax goes into gorkle, it is getting ready to create a new life unit by division. Think of it as being a super-advanced version of the way an amoeba can split in two. Being in this state can make a Veeblax emotionally needy. The process goes on for several days. When the new unit is finally ready to exist on its own, the shape-shifter
seals off a piece of itself, then separates that piece from its body.”

  He bent down and picked up the Veeblax’s foot. As he did, I saw that the Veeblax had already reshaped itself, forming a new foot to replace the one that had fallen off. That was when I realized that losing a body part is not the same for a shape-shifter as it is for a normal animal.

  Pleskit held up the Veeblax piece that had fallen off. “This is known as an oog-slama. It is like a cross between an egg and a cocoon. The new Veeblax will develop inside this. But rather than breaking out, when the creature is finally ready to enter the world, it will simply absorb this outer skin and begin to change shape. Anyway, it was the delicate emotional condition that occurs just prior to the start of gorkle that made the Veeblax latch on to Misty in such an uncharacteristic fashion—though it would not have done so at all had she not been toting the Veeblax chow in her pocket.”

  “I think that will be sufficient to calm the Trading Council,” said Meenom. “Whether it will satisfy the Earth media is another issue. Though, combined with Misty’s confession, it should at least settle things down a bit. However, that still leaves one issue left to resolve—namely what should be done with the Veeblax-to-be?”

  Pleskit held up the oog-slama and smiled. “I think I have a good idea, but it will require the approval of one additional party.”

  * * *

  That additional party turned out to be my mother, though it was the next day before we were able to talk to her about Pleskit’s idea.

  Her first reaction was not promising. She looked at Pleskit and Meenom in astonishment and said, “Are you serious?”

  “We believe Tim has earned the honor,” replied Meenom solemnly.

  Mom wrinkled up her face. “But… but…”

  “I’ll take good care of it, Mom. I promise!”

  She was starting to look trapped.

  “It doesn’t need to be walked,” I said quickly.

  “And we will gladly provide the food,” added Pleskit, “so it will be no additional expense. Also, a Veeblax is relatively odor free.”

  I was getting ready to do the ultra-beg, though I was a little nervous about demonstrating the technique, which involves flinging myself to the floor and grabbing Mom’s feet, in front of Pleskit and Meenom.

  Luckily, I didn’t have to resort to such desperate measures. Mom sighed. Then she smiled and said, “All right, Tim. I guess it’s time you had a pet. But you’d better take good care of it, buster!”

  “I will,” I said, cradling the oog-slama in my hands. “I promise!”

  And I plan to.

  CHAPTER 22 [PLESKIT]

  A LETTER HOME

  FROM: Pleskit Meenom, on the ever-stressful Planet Earth

  TO: Maktel Geebrit, on the beloved but far too distant Planet Hevi-Hevi

  Dear Maktel:

  Well, there you have it—the story of my latest misadventure here on Earth. I certainly hope it is more fun to read these things than it is to live through them.

  The Fatherly One and I have had several counseling sessions with Wakkam Akkim, who truly is a wise being. The Fatherly One understands better now how I feel about him being gone so much. And I understand better why he is gone so much.

  Things are not completely solved. But they are getting better. And as Wakkam Akkim says, “A journey of a thousand pigskuri starts not with the first step but with figuring out the right direction.”

  The other good news is that the Fatherly One called and talked to the school superintendent, and Ms. Weintraub is no longer in danger of being transferred.

  I think he enjoyed that conversation. After all the tough negotiating he must do every day, he said that it was fun to intimidate a self-important minor bureaucrat, though he was a little sorry that he made the man cry.

  Oops. Have to take a break here. Barvgis just came to my door with the mail pouch, and I want to see if there are any messages from you.

  Well, there was a message, as you probably already knew. And what a message. I can’t believe you are finally coming to visit—much less that you will be here in less than an Earthly month!

  Oh, Maktel, I will be so glad to see you. I can’t wait to show you this strange world and introduce you to my new friends. (Or should that be “show you this new world, and introduce you to my strange friends”? Just kidding! I like my new friends a lot. I am sure you’ll all get along!)

  We’re going to have So Much Fun!

  I just hope we don’t also have any new catastrophes while you are here.

  Travel safely, Maktel. I will be awaiting your arrival.

  Fremmix Bleeblom!

  Your pal,

  Pleskit

  SPECIAL BONUS: On the following pages you will find the thrilling conclusion of “Disaster on Geembol Seven” —Pleskit’s story of what happened on the last planet where he lived before coming to Earth.

  DISASTER ON GEEMBOL SEVEN

  PART SIX: “DESPERATE GAMBLE”

  FROM: Pleskit Meenom, on Planet Earth

  TO: Maktel Geebrit, on Planet Hevi-Hevi

  Dear Maktel:

  The time has come to finish the story of what happened on Geembol Seven. As you probably remember, shortly after I arrived on the planet, I was abducted by Balteeri, one of those half-biological, half-mechanical “constructs” most of the galaxy thought had vanished after the Delfiner War. He and a six-eyed boy named Derrvan claimed to need my help.

  They took me deep into the planet, to a secret city Derrvan’s father had created for the constructs who’d survived the war. Now the city was doomed, for an earthquake was coming that would topple the place around them. But the constructs could not leave, because a secret branch of the Geembolian government existed specifically to keep them trapped inside the planet, as part of a shameful agreement made after the war.

  I learned all this from a serha named Dombalt.

  As if to prove her story, a small earthquake struck just after she finished telling it. That was when I knew I had to help, no matter what it cost me.

  “One thing is not yet clear to me,” I said, still trembling from the experience of the earthquake. “If you are blockaded in here, how did Balteeri get out?”

  “We have routes by which a single construct, or even a handful, can escape the caverns,” said Balteeri. “But there are over forty-thousand of us here. There is no way we could hide it if we all tried to leave at once. The construct hunters would consider it an invasion and attack us in force. Even if they didn’t wipe us out completely, there would be thousands of deaths on both sides.”

  Derrvan spoke for the first time in quite a while. “Balteeri came to get me because I was the only organic they felt certain they could count on to try to help. But what can I do? I have no connections to those in power. But you do, Pleskit. You must speak for us. You can get the story heard, which is the only thing that can save us.”

  I knew that he was right. Yet the idea of so many beings depending on me was far more terrifying than any mere earthquake.

  “We’ll have to get back to the surface,” I said, trying not to let my fear sound in my voice.

  “Unfortunately, we can’t go back the way we came,” said Balteeri. “Not only have the construct hunters destroyed that exit but they’ll also be keeping an extra watch on it now, in case we try to open it again. That means I will have to leave you a fair distance from your home, since I dare not get too close to the city.” He must have seen my look of surprise, because he added, “It is not personal fear that makes me say that, Pleskit. It’s just that if I am seen, it will alert the construct hunters and may make it impossible for you to get your message out. You must understand that they are ruthless, will stop at nothing. You will have to be on your guard at all times.”

  “Stop, Balteeri,” said Serha Dombalt. “You’ll terrify the boy!”

  “He has to know what he is getting into,” said Balteeri grimly.

  “It’s all right,” I said. “All I need to do is contact the Fatherly One,
and I will be retrieved very quickly.”

  “I will not even be able to take you directly to a populated spot,” said Balteeri. “You will have to walk some distance.”

  “I can cope with that.”

  Balteeri nodded. “Good. We should leave immediately.”

  “You’ll need this,” said Serha Dombalt. She pulled a shiny black card from her robe and held it out to me. I recognized it as an old-fashioned image holder. “This contains pictures of our city, interviews with some of our people, information about the coming earthquake. It will help you prove what you have to say to the people of Geembol.”

  I took the card and tucked it into one of my inner pockets. It was a tiny thing on which to hang the lives of forty thousand beings.

  “I’ll come with you,” said Derrvan.

  “That’s a bad idea,” said Balteeri. “If you are caught by the construct hunters and they realize who you are, it will go especially hard with you. They will see you as a mortal enemy.”

  “I have to speak for my father’s work,” said Derrvan firmly.

  I looked at him in surprise. This was a much different boy from the weeping one who had lured me to the docks.

  “I think he needs to go,” said Serha Dombalt softly. “Pleskit is the key to getting someone in power to listen, but Derrvan can confirm the story—especially if anyone has the brains to consult some history. After all, he is his father’s son.”

  Balteeri hesitated, then said, “All right, let’s go.” He turned to Serha Dombalt. Placing his face gently against hers, he whispered, “I’ll come back as soon as I can. I want to be here with you, no matter what happens.”

  She put her hand—the metallic one, with its six odd fingers—against his cheek. “I’ll be waiting,” she replied, her voice husky.

  I turned away, startled. It was odd to think of constructs having such tender feelings. I examined my startlement and realized it had nothing to do with the constructs, and everything to do with the lies I had been taught about the Delfiner War.