by Elise Allen
“YES!” cried the little girl.
“What?!” Satchel said. “This is our bear.”
“Deal!” the dad said, and in a f luid motion that belied his need for the scooter in the first place, he leaped to his feet, grabbed the giant stuffed bear, and handed it to his delighted daughter.
“I really liked that bear,” Satchel said sadly, watching it go.
“No time,” Gabby said. “On the scooter.”
They all climbed onto the scooter, Gabby at the very front edge of the seat and Zee and Satchel perched on the sides. Then Gabby turned the speed knob and squeezed the hand control as hard as she could.
The scooter puttered along, barely faster than the three of them could walk.
“You made us give up the bear for this?!” Satchel wailed.
“Zee, what can you do?” Gabby asked.
“Give me thirty seconds,” Zee said, already hopping off the scooter and reaching into her over-full pockets.
Gabby turned off the scooter and waited. She didn’t look to see what Zee was doing; she knew she wouldn’t have understood it anyway. Instead she drummed her fingers on the handlebars, counting off the seconds in her head. She was hoping for another vision from Sneakers, but nothing came.
Gabby had only reached “twenty-nine” when Zee leaped back onto the scooter.
“Gun it!” she said.
Keeping the speed knob all the way up, Gabby squeezed the hand control, and they rocketed forward. “WHOOOOOAAAAAH!!!!” they all wailed, which was good because it warned people to get out of their way. People jumped from the path, screaming and yanking their children to safety.
“Sorry, sorry, sorry!” Gabby cried, but she didn’t dare slow down.
“There’s a horn!” Satchel yelled. “My great-uncle Lou has one of these!”
“Where?!” Gabby asked.
Satchel didn’t answer. He just leaned over Gabby and honked the horn again and again, a constant staccato blare that cleared a path far ahead of them. With no one in their way, Gabby felt better about her tenuous hold on the speeding scooter. It zoomed so quickly she couldn’t keep the handlebars straight. The vehicle wavered from side to side, and Gabby was sure any bump in the path would roll them over.
Still, she didn’t let up on the motor. She pushed it full force as they drove through the kiddie ride area, into the grown-up ride area, toward the Danger Drop….
“There!” Zee cried, pointing up ahead. “It’s you!”
“Oh snap!” Satchel exclaimed. “It’s all of us!”
Gabby’s jaw dropped open. That was a bad idea since she was speeding and the wind blew the ends of her hair inside her mouth, but she couldn’t help it. Far ahead of her, Zee, and Satchel…were her, Zee, and Satchel. Gabby only saw them from the back, but she’d recognize them anywhere: Zee with her overalls and blonde braids; Satchel, taller and lanky, bent over in his slight hunch as he ran; and between them Gabby herself, with her purple knapsack, jeans, and long, curly hair. It was so obviously them that she had to take her eyes off the path for just a second to look down at herself, then to her left and right, to make sure they were also still here.
“I look weird when I run,” Satchel said. “Do I really run like that?”
“We’ve got the kids,” Zee said. “I mean, they’ve got the kids. I mean, look!”
She pointed, and Gabby saw what she meant. It was so jarring to see the carbon copy of her and her friends, she hadn’t even paid attention to Sneakers, who was running with other-Satchel. This Satchel had pulled Sneakers’s leash taut, so the dog had to crane his neck up as he ran, or else he’d choke. Other-Zee was holding Sharli—they could see the little girl’s head through other-Zee’s bouncing braids.
“And that’s how you know it’s not really us,” Zee said. “I’d never be the one holding the kid.”
“I don’t know why Sneakers went along,” Gabby said. “He barks and snarls when he doesn’t like people. I’ve seen it.”
“Maybe he wanted to protect Sharli and Petey,” Satchel said. “If he fought, they might have kicked him away and left him behind. He sent you messages instead, like a good dog.”
“Good alien dog,” Zee said. Then she turned to Gabby and grinned. “Hey, maybe I can take him for a walk and pick up his poop! You’d let me have that sample, right?”
“Not the time, Zee!” Gabby said.
She was getting closer to the group, but she couldn’t imagine where they were going. They’d passed the Danger Drop and were heading to the very edge of the fairgrounds, where the track of the Vertigo Vortex roller coaster bent closest to the ground. Beyond it there was nothing except a short field of grass, then a twenty-foot-high fence. If they got to the fence and split up, which way would Gabby go? Was Fake Alien Gabby holding Petey? Was Petey in Sneakers’s vest pocket? Gabby couldn’t tell. How could she possibly choose who to chase?
Gabby squeezed the hand control even tighter and the scooter gained more ground. She realized what she had to do. “I can get ahead of them,” she said. “I’ll ride circles around them so they can’t get away, then I’ll yell for Sneakers to attack. When he does, we grab Sharli and yell for Petey. He’ll come out when we call him.”
“We don’t know where Petey is,” Zee said. “What if he’s tied up?”
“And what if Fake Alien Usses have laser vision and vaporize us?” Satchel cried.
“Or electro-lightning-bolt-vision,” Zee said. “I totally want Fake Alien Me to have electro-lightning-bolt-vision. That’s seriously cool.”
“It’s not cool if it kills us!” Gabby objected. “But it doesn’t matter. We have to try it. We can’t let them take the kids!”
Gabby leaned forward in her seat, staring daggers at her fake alien self as the space closed between them. Just a couple more yards and she’d pull ahead. The scooter wasn’t wavering anymore. Gabby held it straight and true.
They were close now. A fifty-yard-dash away. Gabby felt the hand control dig into the skin of her palm as she squeezed it tighter…tighter….
Fake Alien Gabby turned around, and for one dizzying second, Gabby locked eyes with herself.
The impostor grimaced and turned her back on Gabby, digging something out of her jeans pocket. She threw it on the ground, and Gabby saw it land in the grass.
A second later a purple cone of light f lashed, so bright that Gabby had to take her hands off the scooter controls to shield her eyes as she winced away. Behind her closed eyes, the negative image of the cone pulsed. Her eyes hurt, but she forced them open. The cone’s after-image still blazed over everything she saw: the scooter, the bent-over figures of Zee and Satchel…but when she strained to see in front of her, no one was there. No Sneakers, no Sharli, no aliens in disguise. Nothing.
All she could make out was something pulsating in the grass. A small disc, blinking purple. Slowly at first, then faster and faster. Gabby didn’t know what it meant, but she knew that was the last spot where she saw Sharli and Sneakers, and she had the horrible sensation that if that spot stopped f lashing, she’d lose any chance to find them.
The spot blinked even faster, impossibly fast. Behind her Gabby vaguely heard Zee and Satchel, but it was like the sound came to her through water. All she saw was the purple blinking circle. It blinked at dizzying speed, and Gabby threw herself forward, sliding on the grass so she could touch it with her fingertips.
“GABBY!” Zee cried.
“NO!” Satchel yelled.
But all they could do was watch as their friend slipped impossibly inside the tiny circle and disappeared. By the time they raced to the spot, it was nothing but a smooth black rock.
abby Duran had never been so comfortable in her life.
She was lying down. On a mattress, maybe? Whatever it was, she sank in just the right amount but also bobbed soothingly up and down, like the mattress was a raft on a gentle ocean. Her head was cradled on a thick, downy pillow. The sky above was cerulean blue, with puffy clouds that slowly wisped and reassembled
to make bunnies, and snowf lakes, and ice cream cones. Music played softly—Chopin’s Nocturne in B-F lat Minor, op. 9, no. 1, which always made Gabby feel calm. She melted into her surroundings and had no sense of anything beyond this beautiful, relaxing, perfect moment in time.
Then two metallic hands smacked down on the horizon and a grinning copper-colored skull blotted out the sky.
Gabby screamed and bolted upright, but immediately banged her forehead on something hard.
“OW!” she yelled, holding a hand to her forehead as she fell back on the pillow.
She was encased in glass. Or plastic. Something totally clear but hard. She tilted her head down to get a better sense of her surroundings and saw she wasn’t f loating on an ocean at all. She was f lat on her back on what looked like a hospital bed, but one with a nearly invisible dome over it, low enough that she couldn’t sit up or roll over.
Her breath sped up, and she started to sweat as she realized she was basically in a particularly comfortable see-through casket.
The creature with the metal skull and hands—a robot, it had to be a robot—was still staring down at her. Gabby shouted to it as she pounded on the dome with her palms. “Hey! Get me out of here!”
The robot hissed and blurbled. It sounded like it was speaking to her, but it didn’t move its mouth, and its expression didn’t change.
Gabby shook her head. “I don’t understand!” she shouted.
The robot slapped its hand to its forehead, and Gabby heard a loud CLANK as metal met metal. It lowered its arm out of Gabby’s sight, then a second later she felt a kitten-tongue rasp against the back of her neck.
“Is that better?”
Nothing on the robot’s grinning metallic skull moved, but it tilted its head questioningly, so Gabby assumed it—he (the voice sounded male)—was the one who asked her the question. In plain English now. Or to be more specific, remarkably fancy English. He spoke with an upper-crust British accent, and he raised his arms in a shrug as he asked, “Yes?”
“Um…yes,” Gabby said.
“Good, good. My humblest apologies. Normally we let the Universal Translator—that raspy sensation you probably just felt on the back of your neck? We usually let that absorb into a visitor’s skin the minute they arrive. It makes the entire process so much simpler. Please forgive me for my lapse, and I do hope it won’t affect my rating on your consumer satisfaction survey.”
“Okay,” Gabby said. She wasn’t afraid anymore, but she was definitely confused. “Um…where am I?”
“You’re in a welcome pod,” the robot said. “It’s how we acclimate all non-native species to our planet. Interplanetary travel can be so disorienting otherwise, don’t you find?”
“Inter…planetary?” Gabby asked.
The robot put its hands to either side of its head in a pantomime of shock. “I haven’t shown you the welcome video! Oh, I am all discombobulated today. I’m so very sorry. Please do keep in mind these most humble apologies when you fill out that customer satisfaction survey.”
The robot moved away, and the dome restricted Gabby’s movement too much for her to follow where he went. The classical music in Gabby’s ears suddenly stopped, replaced by a bouncy tune as red words in cheery bubble print appeared on the bright blue sky above her.
“Welcome to Mars!” An upbeat voice read the words out loud. “We’re glad you came to visit, and hope you enjoy this video tour of our planet’s highlights.”
“Wait, what?!” Gabby banged on the dome. “Mars?!”
The robot’s gruesome copper skull rose back into Gabby’s field of vision. “Not that Mars,” he said.
Gabby put the pieces together. Whatever “Mars” she was on, it was definitely another planet, and the only way she could have gotten here was by following her fake alien self through the blinking purple disc. That meant wherever she was, Sharli, Petey, and Sneakers were here, too.
The robot tried to duck away again as the narration continued, but Gabby pounded ferociously on the dome. “Stop! Turn the video off, please.”
“Why?” he asked, worried. “Is it the narrator’s voice? Is it not pleasant to you? Allow me to change it. Earthlings often find this one makes them quite happy.”
A moment later, a deep, jolly voice filled Gabby’s ears. “Ho-ho-ho! It’s me, Santa Claus! And I’d like to welcome you to Mars! Not that Mars, of course—”
Gabby pounded on the dome again. “It’s not the voice. Just please, let me out!”
Immediately, Santa’s voice was cut off, the dome lifted, and Gabby sat up. As she did, the cushion underneath her sloshed and undulated. It was a water-mattress—that’s why she’d felt like she was f loating on the ocean. And her purple knapsack was sitting right at its foot. As she picked up her bag and slid it on, she realized the waterbed was just one item in what looked like an upscale hotel room. Nubby carpet lined the f loor, recessed lighting gave the room a warm glow, and a small mahogany buffet table sat under a staggeringly large f lat-panel TV. Through an open pocket door Gabby saw a bathroom with a deep claw-footed tub, a pedestal sink, and a rack filled with thick white towels. Only the bed’s headboard seemed alien, blinking with digital readouts in symbols Gabby couldn’t understand.
“What is this place?” she asked the robot, who she now saw was around six feet tall. He was also Zee’s robot dream come true. His copper joints were seamless. Top to bottom he had the sleek lines of a work of art. With the exception of his death mask of a face, he looked as if a f lawlessly long and lithe humanoid body had been dipped in copper paint.
“As I said,” the robot answered, “you were in a Welcome Pod, which is the main feature of our Mobile Holographic Acclimation Booth. I can tell you’re agitated, and I do apologize. Our basic brain scans are usually quite adept at creating a comfortable transition from home planet to ours. Perhaps you’d like to freshen up in the bathroom? Or have a snack?”
He reached out and pressed a button on the buffet table and a panel slid open. Another panel rose to take its place, this one holding a silver platter filled with Pop-Tarts, fish sticks, and a bowl of maraschino cherries.
Gabby loved all these things. Turning them into a single meal was so brilliant, she was stunned she’d never done it herself. For a second she imagined tucking back into the water bed with the platter, turning on the TV, and seeing what was on. She had a strong suspicion she’d find all her favorite movies.
Under other circumstances it would have been tempting. At the moment she had far more important things to do.
“Just the way out, please,” Gabby said.
“Are you sure?” the robot asked. “Because I have some wonderful brochures about the immediate vicinity. Mobile Holographic Acclimation Booths appear wherever a traveler happens to arrive, and according to my records you rode the tail end of a portal-wave, which doesn’t always have the most accurate aim. Perhaps a virtual hang-gliding tour would help you get your bearings. There’s a lovely three-hour tour that comes with an impeccable lunch—”
“The way out,” Gabby interrupted him. “Please.”
While the robot’s face didn’t budge, he somehow managed to look crestfallen. Gabby felt bad for him, but she didn’t have time for any kind of tour. She had to get out and start looking for Sharli, Petey, and Sneakers, especially if the robot was right about the purple light she rode here not having the best aim. She probably had some work ahead of her to find them.
Still, the robot looked awfully sad. And he really was trying hard to make things better for her.
“I promise I’ll say nice things on my customer satisfaction survey,” she said.
The robot perked up immediately. He stood taller, reached out to press what looked like a light switch on the wall, and a hatchway-shaped section of the wall shimmered. Gabby waited for it to disappear, but when it didn’t she realized the shimmery section was the doorway—she just had to walk through.
“Thank you,” she said. She started toward the hatch, then doubled back and grabbe
d several Pop-Tarts and fish sticks. She wrapped them in two of the cloth napkins that had been folded like swans, then quickly shoved the parcels in her knapsack. Once she shrugged the knapsack back on, she popped a maraschino cherry in her mouth. “Thanks again!”
With a final wave, she strode through the hatchway.
She instantly wished she hadn’t.
Strong winds buffeted her on every side. Red dirt kicked up and bit into her face, her hands, and every other sliver of her body that wasn’t covered. Without thinking, she turned to walk back into the Mobile Holographic Acclimation Booth, but the entrance was gone. Nothing remained except a solid metal wall. Braving the harsh winds, Gabby staggered backward and shielded her eyes to look for another way in, but there was nothing. The booth was a simple steel cylinder, elegant and tapered at the bottom, and skinny enough that Gabby and one other person could have stood on either side and held hands around it. It was physically impossible that the large room with the bed and the buffet and the bathroom could have fit inside, but Gabby didn’t have time to ponder the physics before her thoughts were interrupted by a massive BOOM!
In the near distance, the ground had become a dirt volcano, spewing red dust and rocks into the air.
She only had time to think the word “explosion” before another went off even closer.
Gabby quickly surveyed her surroundings. It might not have been “that Mars,” but it certainly looked the way she imagined “that Mars” looked. All she could see were striated red rock mountains and boulders, all rising out of barren red dirt.
Another explosion went off, this one so loud she clapped her hands over her ears and ran, with no idea where she was going.
“What is wrong with this place?!” she shouted.
When the echoes faded, she moved her hands off her ears so she could pump her arms as she ran.
That’s when she got her answer.
“It’s a weapons testing area.”
The voice in her ear was unmistakable, and she was so shocked she screamed.
“PETEY!”
