I Shrank My Teacher

by Bruce Coville

  “You’ve got to be kidding!” I squawked, wondering what the punishment was for borrowing an alien diplomat’s desk toy without his permission.

  “I could not be more serious. Remember, we may well be all that stands between Jordan and the path of great evil.”

  Which is how I ended up following my alien friend into the office of his Fatherly One. Of course, we couldn’t have gotten in if Meenom had been there. But according to Pleskit he was often gone, making visits to presidents, premiers, and prime ministers.

  “Your father meets all the most important people in the world,” I said in awe.

  “It’s his job,” said Pleskit, as if it was no big deal.

  The other thing that made it easier to get into Meenom’s office was that he did not yet have a new secretary to replace the traitorous Mikta-makta-mookta.

  I had seen the office before, when Pleskit and his Fatherly One gave me, my mother, and Linnsy a tour of the embassy. Even so, I found it awesome. The outer wall of the room is curved, much like the one in Pleskit’s bedroom. But, being on the main floor of the embassy, this wall is much bigger. When the windows are clear, they give an amazing view of the city. Now they were set to show an image of another world. It was a city, still, but one with strangely rounded buildings topped by unimaginably high towers, streets that were nearly empty, and skies that were crowded with what Pleskit called “Personal Flying Vehicles.”

  About five feet above the center of the room floated Meenom Ventrah’s command pod, where he sat when he was working at home. In the center of the pod was a deeply padded chair. This was surrounded by a clear blue shell. At the front of the shell was an opening about two feet wide. The chair’s armrests held keypads where Meenom could enter commands and queries. The responses appeared on the wall in front of him.

  “So where does your Fatherly One keep his desk toys?” I asked.

  “Watch,” said Pleskit. He held out his hands and cracked his knuckles in a tricky little rhythm. The command pod began to descend. When it reached floor level, Pleskit scrambled into the seat. He touched a knob on one of the control pads, and the pod returned to its original position. Then he touched another knob. A slot in the wall opened. Out slid a shelf made of the same clear blue material as the command pod. It floated across the room, coming to a stop right in front of the pod’s opening. On the shelf lay about a dozen totally fascinating-looking gadgets. If not for the fact that I was terrified of being caught in here, I would have begged Pleskit to explain them all to me.

  “Ah, here we go,” he said, picking up the least interesting-looking item—a red box about the size of a large grapefruit. “Catch, Tim.”

  “Wait!” I cried in terror. “Don’t!”

  Too late. He had tossed the box down to me.

  It slipped through my hands and hit the floor.

  “What have you done?” cried Pleskit in alarm.

  “I tried to tell you—I can’t catch!”

  Quickly he returned the pod to floor level. I had already picked up the box and was checking it for cracks or dents.

  Pleskit took it from me. “You can’t catch?” he asked in surprise. He sounded amused.

  “Don’t rub it in,” I said, turning my head away. I get sick of being teased over the fact that I am a total klutz.

  “This is a great relief to me,” continued Pleskit. “I thought from the culture tapes I had experienced that all Earthlings were very physically adept. I am clumsy, too. I am so glad to know I am not the only one on the planet.”

  I smiled, just a little. “So, did I break the shrinking ray?” I asked nervously.

  Pleskit shook the thing. “I do not think so. By the way, the proper technical term for this device is Molecule Compactor.”

  “Why?”

  “Well, because that’s how it works. If you have studied the structure of an atom, you know that even the most solid-looking things are mostly made up of empty space.”

  “Uh, I guess so,” I said, feeling a little guilty about the fact that I had read so much more science fiction than actual science.

  Pleskit must have caught my uncertainty, because he expanded his explanation. “The atoms from which things are made are arranged something like a solar system. In the center is the nucleus, which is like the ‘star’ of the system. Orbiting it, pretty much the way planets orbit the sun, are electrons. Between them lies empty space. An atom is so tiny you might not think that space would amount to much, but if you enlarged an atom so that the nucleus was the size of, oh, an apple, then the closest of its electrons would be about five miles away! So you can see that most of what things are is… nothing! The Molecule Compactor simply squeezes out some of that empty space. Of course, that means that when you shrink something, it keeps its original weight, since nothing is lost but the emptiness. No matter how small you make a hundred-pound person, he will still weigh a hundred pounds.”

  “Cool!” I said. “So, how small can we make Jordan?”

  Pleskit closed his eyes for a second, as if he was consulting some in-brain data bank, then said, “We should probably not bring him down to less than two inches. The compactor could make him smaller. But the side effects would be… unpleasant.”

  “Two inches is fine!” I said gleefully. “Uh—I hate to ask this, but how do we bring him back?”

  “Oh, we don’t have to worry about that. The forces involved are so tremendous that the compacting can only last for a few hours. He will enlarge on his own—though it would be best if he is not in an enclosed spot when that happens. Now, come on—let’s get out of here before someone comes in.”

  Tucking the Molecule Compactor under his arm, Pleskit led the way to the door.

  As we stepped into the hall, I froze in terror.

  CHAPTER 13 [PLESKIT]

  THE PLAN IN ACTION

  “Well, boys,” said Ms. Buttsman, when she saw Tim and me coming out of the Fatherly One’s office. “And just what are you doing here?”

  I wanted to ask her the same question. Instead, I said, “I left one of my… my…”

  “Toys!” prompted Tim.

  “Yes, one of my toys in the office of the Fatherly One. I wanted to show it to Tim. So we came to retrieve it.”

  Ms. Buttsman narrowed her eyes. “That doesn’t look much like a toy to me, Pleskit.”

  Tim laughed nervously. “Of course it doesn’t! It’s from another planet. It’s bound to be different.”

  Ms. Buttsman’s face grew stern and cold—or, to be more precise, even sterner and colder than usual. Pointing a finger at Tim, she said, “Young man, you have been given a great privilege in being allowed to visit this embassy. It is imperative that you adhere to certain standards. Official government policy is that we are at all times to emphasize the similarities between our peoples, and not the differences. Please keep that in mind. If you cannot, I will have to take steps to prevent you from coming here.”

  This made me so mad it was all I could do to keep myself from turning the shrinking ray on Ms. Buttsman right then and there. Tim was doing his interesting trick of turning bright red.

  A tweeting sound came from Ms. Buttsman’s pocket. She took out a small device, flipped it open, held it to her ear, and snapped, “Buttsman here.” She listened for a second, then covered the part she held to her mouth. “It’s the president. You boys run along. And please remember what I said, Timothy.”

  As we turned to go, I farted the small and nasty fart of disrespect. I knew she would not be able to interpret it properly, but it made me feel better anyway.

  * * *

  Back in my room we tested the Molecule Compactor on the Veeblax. It quickly reduced the creature to about the size of my little finger.

  “That rocks!” cried Tim.

  “I would have shrunk it as much as we are going to shrink Jordan,” I said. “But I was afraid we would not be able to find it.”

  “Gleep!” shrieked the Veeblax in a very tiny voice. “Gleep! Gleep! Gleep!”

  Fee
ling somewhat guilty for alarming the creature, I let it crawl into my hand, where it seemed to feel safe.

  “Okay,” said Tim. “Next question: How do we get Jordan in position to use this on him?”

  I emitted the smell of puzzlement. “I had not thought about that. We cannot do it in front of the rest of the class.”

  “Time to call in reinforcements,” said Tim.

  It took me a moment to realize that he meant it was time to ask Linnsy for advice.

  * * *

  “You guys are crazy,” said Linnsy after we explained our plan.

  “Does that mean you won’t help?” asked Tim. She smiled. “No, it just means I think you’re crazy. But I want to see Jordan get cut down to size as much as you do. Enough that I’m even willing to get involved in one of Tim’s nutty schemes—which is saying a lot, since normally I would rather have red-hot needles stuck under my fingernails than get involved in one of his wacko plans.”

  “That is a very strong statement!” I cried.

  “Wait until you’ve been here awhile, Pleskit,” she said. “Tim has a gift for getting in trouble in truly weird ways.”

  I looked at Tim with new respect. Maybe we had even more in common than I realized.

  We were sitting in Tim’s apartment. McNally was in the kitchen, having coffee with Tim’s mother. This not only made him happy—Shhh-foop still had not learned to make coffee my bodyguard could drink—it also left us free to make our plans, as long as we kept our voices low. Tim and I had considered inviting Linnsy to the embassy to talk, but did not think there was anyplace we could sit where we would be free of the prying ears of Ms. Buttsman.

  Linnsy was pacing back and forth in front of the television set. “Okay, to begin with you need to do this when no one else is around to see it happen—which probably means you guys need to stay in the classroom when we go out for recess.”

  “How are we going to do that?” asked Tim.

  Linnsy rolled her eyes. “How about trying your usual method, doofus? Don’t get your work done.”

  Tim scowled, but admitted that that probably would work.

  “The bigger trick will be getting McNally out of the way,” continued Linnsy. “He sticks to you like glue, Pleskit.”

  “Of course he does. It’s his job.”

  We sat, staring at one another, trying to figure out a way to get McNally to leave us alone long enough to shrink Jordan. But none of us could come up with an answer. Finally Tim looked up and said, “Okay, we’ve got to break the box.”

  I was alarmed. “What is the point of breaking the box, after all the trouble we went through to get it?”

  He shook his head. “I’m not talking about the Molecule Compactor. I’m talking about the thinking box.”

  “Well, that explains everything,” said Linnsy.

  “I’m serious,” said Tim. “It’s a tactic my uncle taught me for solving brainteasers and stuff. If you get stuck trying to find the answer, try looking at the question in a completely different way. For example, we’re stuck on trying to figure out how to get rid of McNally. So let’s change the question: Is there some way we could do this without getting rid of him?”

  “Maybe we could ask him to help,” I said.

  Tim started to laugh.

  “I’m not joking,” I said, feeling a trifle cranky.

  Tim blinked. He glanced toward the kitchen. “You know, it just might work!”

  “Are you serious!” asked Linnsy.

  “McNally is cool,” said Tim. “He might actually go for it.”

  “Well, you guys know him better than I do. If you can get McNally to go along with it, and if you can get yourselves stuck inside during recess, then I’ll do what I can to get Jordan back into the classroom.”

  She held out her hand. Tim placed his on top of it.

  Clearly, this was some sort of ritual.

  I reached out and put my hand on top of theirs.

  The pact was made.

  * * *

  When I brought up the subject to McNally on the way back to the embassy, he began to laugh. “Let me get this straight, Pleskit. You want me to look the other way so you can shrink Jordan?”

  I nodded. “That is the basic plan.”

  He shook his head. “That’s the craziest thing I ever heard.” He turned and looked out the window for a minute. When he turned back, his face was very serious. “I had a kid like Jordan in my class when I went to school. More than one of them. They made my life miserable, until I got big enough and strong enough to get them off my back.”

  He looked away again and didn’t say anything else for a while. But when we got back to the embassy, he said, “You sure this shrinky-thing won’t hurt Jordan?”

  “The device is guaranteed safe for all living creatures.”

  McNally nodded. “Well, if you and Tim do happen to find yourselves stuck inside during recess tomorrow… let’s just say some openings might arise. But you’d better have a good excuse if anything happens. Because you and I never had this conversation. Understand?”

  “I understand,” I said solemnly.

  * * *

  I could hardly sleep that night, I was so filled with excitement.

  The next day I carefully put the Molecule Compactor in my backpack.

  When Tim got to class, he looked at me and raised his eyebrows. I had learned enough about human communication to know this was a question. I answered it by nodding. Tim smiled.

  We did not finish our work, and Ms. Weintraub told us to stay in.

  Linnsy glanced back at us as she left the room. I nodded to her, to let her know I had the device.

  As soon as everyone was gone, Tim and I set the Molecule Compactor on one of the front desks and aimed its beam at the door.

  McNally was at the back of the room, staring out the window.

  We heard someone coming.

  I stood at the machine, tense and eager.

  Tim stood at the door, ready to push it closed, so Jordan could not escape.

  The knob turned.

  The door opened.

  “Now!” cried Tim.

  I flicked the switch, and the compacting beam shot out.

  “Wait!” screamed Tim. “Pleskit, wait!”

  It was too late.

  I gasped as I realized what a horrible mistake we had just made.

  CHAPTER 14 [TIM]

  CATASTROPHE!

  I was so excited about the chance to shrink Jordan that I wasn’t paying as much attention as I should have. So I was a couple of seconds late in realizing that it wasn’t Jordan who had walked through the door.

  It was Ms. Weintraub.

  I shouted for Pleskit to turn off the shrinking beam. At the same moment I rushed forward, trying to shove her out of the beam’s path. I hit her at exactly the same instant the beam did; hit her, but not hard enough. She stayed in the beam—and so did I.

  Which meant that we both shrank.

  It was one of the oddest things I have ever experienced. It didn’t hurt, actually. But I felt a kind of heaviness, an enormous pressure, as if I was being squeezed by a giant hand. At the same time I felt as if something was being pulled out of me, so that I was collapsing in on myself, the way a soda bottle does when you suck the air out of it.

  The floor seemed to be rushing at me. The walls shot up around me until the ceiling seemed as distant as the sky.

  And then it was over.

  Ms. Weintraub was, shall we say, not amused. “Tim!” she screamed. “What’s happening?”

  Her tiny voice was high and squeaky. Any other time it would have sounded funny, but right now I was in no mood to laugh. I looked up at the huge and strange new world around us. “Well,” I said in a voice that would have embarrassed Mickey Mouse, “we, uh, we, uh, we, uh, we sort of shrunk.”

  “Sort of?” Ms. Weintraub screeched. “Sort of?!? We’re two inches tall!”

  Things look vastly different when you are that height. Ms. Weintraub’s desk, which was off to
my right, looked like a giant office building. The pencil on the floor next to me was like a yellow log. And the blackboard eraser lying nearby would have made a good mattress, if it hadn’t been so dusty.

  Suddenly McNally and Pleskit were lying on the floor, staring at us in horror. Their faces loomed over us like monuments. Ms. Weintraub walked to McNally. Even though he had his chin on the floor, her head came only to the edge of his lip.

  “What do you have to do with this?” she demanded.

  “I’m just an innocent bystander,” he said, sounding incredibly guilty.

  “Hah!” She turned to Pleskit. Putting her hands on her hips, she said, “Just what is this all about, anyway?”

  “We were going to shrink Jordan,” said Pleskit miserably. “We thought it would teach him a lesson.”

  Ms. Weintraub groaned, buried her face in her hands, and muttered, “They told me having you in my class would be an adventure.”

  “I’m sorry,” said Pleskit.

  “Me, too!” I squeaked.

  “Skip the apologies! Just make me big again.”

  Pleskit looked more miserable than ever. “We can’t.”

  “What?”

  “The machine doesn’t have a reverse switch. You just have to wait for it to wear off.”

  “How long is that going to take?”

  “Two or three hours.”

  Ms. Weintraub slumped to the floor—not that far, given her current height. I really like her, and when I saw her sitting there, shoulders bent, face hidden, I felt about as lousy as I have ever felt. I was still trying to get up the nerve to apologize again when she straightened her back and said, “All right, we have to figure out how we’re going to get through the next few hours until Tim and I return to normal.”

  “Get through them?” asked McNally and Pleskit together, and I knew they were thinking the same thing I was, namely: Does that mean you’re not going to tell on us?

  Ms. Weintraub sighed. “You geniuses may not have figured this out yet, but if word of this little… incident… leaks out, it’s going to give more ammunition to the anti-alien crowd. A lot more. I have a greater interest in seeing Earth succeed in building a relationship with the rest of the galaxy than I do in seeing you three get your sorry butts fried. I can handle that myself. Believe me, you will pay for this… all three of you,” she said significantly, directing her gaze at McNally.