Scratchull’s spiderweb lines flashed gray for a moment across his face, like a passing shadow. “Was that an attempt at humor? At a time like this?”
“No, Most Glorious Leader. Of course not.” Greenie quivered all over again and ducked his head. “I only meant that it seems a trifling matter for the Collective scientists to be so concerned about. For them to banish their best and brightest mind is shortsighted, indeed. Just like you said, just exactly as you said.”
Scratchull nodded. “The Collective scientists have no authority, legal or moral, to do what they have done to me, it is true. Forced exile on a primitive planet is far worse than a prison sentence for a being of such superior mental facility.” He held up the black mechanism again where it caught the sunlight streaming through the window. “But you’re wrong about one thing. This is no trifling matter.”
“Why is that, Master?”
“Let us just say we are lucky that you hit the bed and not the wall with your little accident.”
Greenie leaned forward, nodding. “Yes? Go on.”
“The liquefaction of the molecules would have been far more impressive. Since the wall is connected to every other part of the house, the entire structure would have come melting down around us.”
“Really?”
“Yes, really. Now close your mouth—you look like one of the wide-eyed cavemen around here.” Scratchull clicked something on the machine, and the top of the black case opened smoothly. He peered into the inner workings and fiddled around in there. “Ah, yes. And we were quite lucky that this is on the lowest possible setting.” Scratchull pressed on the casing and closed the machine again. “Now if I were to use the highest setting—and if the thieving Balderbahnians have used my formula for the power cells properly—then this device should be capable of altering the molecules on a much grander scale. All interconnected matter would become a malleable mush in my hands.”
“Meaning?”
Scratchull’s lips stretched into another hideous grin. “Meaning that I hold in my hand enough power to destroy an entire planet.”
The strength went out of my cramped legs, and I almost tumbled over backward. Destroy a planet? As I watched the viscous bed sludge ooze across the floorboards, my mind flashed back to the unnatural boiling of the soupy clearing. The sense memory of being sucked under that mess came back so strong, it was hard to breathe for a few moments.
“An entire planet, Master? Are…are you certain?”
“Quite certain. I practiced with the old device—the prototype—in the forest near here, but I had to abandon the experiments after an earthling child meddled in my affairs.”
My hands balled into fists. I’m just getting started, pal.
Scratchull sneered. “No matter. The whole thing was taking too long, anyway. Spreading far too slowly. Even these feebleminded humans would have stumbled upon some sort of solution by the time it took to do any real planetary damage.” Scratchull held up the little black machine, admiring it. “But this piece of ingenious engineering will serve my purposes much more boldly.”
“Right…” Greenie scooched away from Scratchull, fidgeting with his hands. The holes on the tips of his fingers opened and shut furiously with that wet squelching sound. “And so you feel that the Earth must actually be destroyed, Grand One? Quickly and boldly? This serves Master’s purposes…somehow?”
“All in good time,” Scratchull said. “It’s ‘first things first,’ as the humans like to say. They’re quite fond of stating the glaringly obvious, you know.”
“Pardon?” Greenie fidgeted some more. “I mean, I thought you said it was working too slowly for you?” Greenie scooted backward a little more, settling into a protective cringe. When Scratchull failed to smack him, Greenie continued. “Forgive me, sir, but your plan is far too cunning for one such as me to comprehend.”
“It is very simple. I want to escape from this planet first, and then annihilate it, you graxx-for-brains.”
“Yes, yes, of course…but…I thought you said…”
“Pay attention!” Scratchull took one long stride toward Greenie and—splat!—smacked him in the head again. “My first priority remains getting off this forgotten space island.”
“But you can’t use the transporters, right?” Greenie rounded up bits of his body again to replace the new gaping hole in his neck. “I remember that part, Master, I surely do. And you can’t use them because…” Greenie stopped slithering around and scrunched up his jelly face in concentration.
“Because those imbeciles from the Collective embedded my DNA into the Not Authorized to Travel transporter filter.” Scratchull indicated the transporter door with a jerk of his head. “If I step inside there and hit the button, my entire being will be vaporized and flushed across the vacuum of space.”
“But can’t you just fix—”
“No, I cannot just fix it.” Smack! Splorsh! Green jelly blobs splattered against the wall. “There is no way to conduct proper scientific experiments unless I use myself as a test case. And that, of course, would be far too risky. If something went wrong, the universe would be deprived of this magnificent mind forever.”
“That would be devastating, Master.”
“I know. So the transporters are definitely out.” Scratchull made a steeple with his fingers and placed his chin on top. He looked down at Greenie, who cringed in reflex. “That is where you come in.”
“Y-y-yes, Esteemed Leader? What must—may—I do for you now?”
“Return to your home planet immediately to await further communication.”
Greenie nodded so vigorously that his whole body shook. “Of course, Master. I can do that. I’m good at going home. Very good.”
Scratchull sighed and rolled his eyes. “How reassuring.” The tall alien brandished the sleek black device. “Now, listen. When the time is right—and that will be very soon, I warrant you—I will unleash the devastating powers of my invention on this pathetic little planet.”
My whole body went cold. It took all of my willpower to stop myself from kicking open the closet door, grabbing that gadget, and cramming it right up his gleaming white—
“And what will happen then, Master?” Greenie’s voice was hushed. It sounded like he wasn’t sure he wanted to hear the answer. I could relate.
“Chaos.” Scratchull licked his dark lips as if savoring the word. “Complete chaos on a planet-encompassing scale. Widespread instability in the structure of the Earth’s crust will cause massive sinkholes to open up and swallow entire cities. The water cycle will be knocked off kilter, causing overwhelming storms and floods in some areas, complete drought in others. Crops will no longer grow. Any form of Earth travel will become too dangerous to attempt; the ability to transport goods and resources will be eradicated, along with the lines of communication.” Scratchull stared dreamily off into the distance as he described the scenes of destruction. “Earth will be entirely at my mercy.”
“And while all of this is happening…I will be on my home planet, yes? My safe and quiet home planet?”
Scratchull rolled his eyes again. “Yes, yes. But stay close to your satellite interface. When I get in touch, you will immediately go to the Collective headquarters on your planet and sound an alarm. Tell them you just transported from a primitive planet where natural disasters were ripping the place apart. Convince them to urgently notify the team in charge of Earth research.”
“Right. Of course. A most masterful plan, Master.” There was a long silence as Greenie fidgeted and studied the floor. “And…why will I be doing that…exactly?”
“So that the Collective scientists visit Earth again. Immediately.”
“…R-iii-ght.” More fidgeting. More staring at the floor. “But I thought…that is to say, I thought that you…hated the Collective scientists? The ones who have done this to you? So why would you want them to visit—”
Scratchull brought his hand back in a sweeping motion, but before he could deliver the blow, Greenie shivered
all over so badly that little bits and blobs shook off from his body all by themselves. Scratchull grinned and let his hand drop.
The white alien spoke slowly. “To review: I cannot use the transporters to get off this planet. Are you with me so far, or shall I draw up some sort of diagram to aid your comprehension?”
“I remember that part, Master.”
“Good. It means the only way off this planet is by ship. But no ships ever come to Earth, do they?”
“No, sir.”
“And why not?”
Greenie opened his mouth, but nothing came out. He scratched at his head in thought so vigorously that he dug a furrow in his jelly skin. “Because…hmmmm…”
Scratchull sighed. “Because it would be a colossal misuse of time, space fuel, and common sense.”
“Right. I was just about to say that, Master.”
“Of course you were. Now, when the Collective scientists come here for their talky little tea parties, they use the transporters. But if something major is going wrong with their pet planet, they’ll bring a ship. Several ships, as a point of fact. They’ll need to bring loads of equipment to study what has gone wrong, and the softies running that committee will want to bring emergency aid supplies for the poor little earthlings.” Scratchull spread his hands before him, palms out, setting the entire scene. “And with a fleet of spaceships coming here in the middle of all the mayhem, and the Collective scientists distracted with trying to help the earthlings, it will be the perfect opportunity for me to…”
Scratchull nodded expectantly and made a carry on gesture at Greenie, waiting for the little alien to finish his thought for him. Greenie looked back up at him just as expectantly. When he finally figured out that Scratchull wanted him to say something, he stalled for time. “R-iii-ght…so many ships…all that mayhem…the perfect opportunity…and, er, whatnot…”
Fwap! “THEN I WILL TAKE ONE OF THE SHIPS AND FINALLY GET OUT OF HERE!”
“Yes! Yes, I see now. You will hijack a ship and escape. Brilliant!”
“I know it’s brilliant. But hijack is such a crass way to put it. I will merely be requisitioning the necessary materials. I figure at least that much is owed to me in punitive damages for what those idiots have done in making me suffer needlessly here.”
The oozing sludge of the bed puddle lapped up against Greenie’s jellyfish body, and he slithered away again. Studying the mess, he said, “But, Master, will you be safe here? On a planet that is crumbling away? Will you be safe until the Collective scientists arrive with their ships?”
Scratchull flipped open the black top of the device, twisted something in there, and then pointed it at the bed puddle. A red stream of lightning shot out and buried itself in the muck. Instantly the puddle expanded and then stiffened. The wood regained its solidity, and the bedspread its fluffiness…but it was still all jumbled up in a swirl of colors and materials. A mound that looked nothing like the original bed, it was more of a lumpy, mixed-up bed boulder now.
Scratchull sniffed. “It’s not exactly the original structure, of course. But I can create a little oasis of land that is stable enough to allow me to ride out the storm of destruction. And I have already seen to it that there will be plenty of food provisions, as well.”
“Brilliant,” Greenie said. He patted the multicolored mound. “And so…when you leave in the ship…then you can use the device to halt the cycle of planetary destruction? Make things solid enough again for the humans to rebuild?”
Scratchull cupped his chin in his hand and cocked his head to the side thoughtfully. “And why would you assume I desired to do something like that?”
“Well…I mean…that is to say…”
“Yes?”
“Is it really necessary to destroy the planet, Master? After you have already escaped?”
“Do not look at me in that insolent way. Having the humans die so that I may continue my valuable work is a small price to pay. If you spent any time here at all it would be plain enough for even you to see: a single one of me is worth billions of these earthlings. Indeed, an entire planet of them.”
I realized my fingernails were digging trenches into my palms. I wanted so badly to burst into the room and throw myself at the white alien in a full-body tackle. But I knew that wouldn’t do anything other than alert Scratchull to the fact that I knew what he was up to. I was going to have to put a serious plan together to stop him.
“Besides, it will serve my purpose. After the destruction of an entire planet, everyone in the universe will know of my dominance,” Scratchull continued. “Whoever controls that kind of power will control the Collective. Which will be of great benefit to the universe, when you think about it. As it is, those fools are buried in their own bureaucracy. They can’t make a decision to go to the bathroom without passing it through three subcommittees first.” He gazed at the device, running his hands lovingly along its sides. “But with one undisputed leader, the Collective will be a much more efficient organization.”
“I suppose you’ll have to change the name, though. Right, Master?”
“What?”
Greenie cowered. “Well…it won’t exactly be a collective anymore, will it, Most Illustrious Being?”
Scratchull’s lips spread wide and a series of scratchy sounds hissed out. I think they might have been what his real laughter sounds like. It made me cold all over.
“Very amusing. Well done.”
Greenie straightened himself back up to his full four-foot height. “Thank you, Master.”
“And you have done well in bringing me this device. It is a comfort as well as a strategic coup to be reunited with my life’s work.” Scratchull tucked the little machine into his coveralls pocket and patted it. “You should have a reward. Please join me in a delicious meal before you leave.”
“I would be honored, Master. Most honored.”
“These fool humans let the greatest delicacy on their planet go to waste, completely unharvested.” Scratchull walked over to the aquarium and plucked out a yellow-and-black slug that writhed between his fingers. He held it up to his nose, inhaled deeply, and smacked his lips.
“It looks a bit like those chewy grennbuleen creatures from the Haverny system,” Greenie said.
“Indeed. But these taste twice as good.” Scratchull bit through the meaty middle of the slug’s body. Half of the slug disappeared into his mouth, while the other half continued to squirm and contort itself around his fingers. The slime on its body glistened in the summer sunshine filtering in through the window.
Scratchull chewed slowly, swallowed, and closed his eyes in appreciation. “Oh, and the texture is sublime. Your teeth need to work through a somewhat rubbery exterior, but the juicy filling makes it well worth it.” Scratchull popped the other half of the slug into his mouth and chomped it down. After swallowing, he licked a trail of slug slime from the corner of his lips. “Exquisite.”
Scratchull dipped his hand back into the aquarium and offered a dozen or so writhing slugs to Greenie, then got a handful for himself. They tossed the small ones in their mouth like popcorn, one after the other. My stomach tried to force breakfast back up my throat, but I gritted my teeth and held it down. I tried closing my eyes, but it didn’t help—I could still hear their loud smacking sounds.
“These are delicious!” Greenie said.
“They have been an absolute lifesaver for me. They help to drown out the horrible taste of that human woman’s grotesque cooking.” A slug wriggled out of Scratchull’s mouth and slimed its way across his chin before the white alien slurped it back up like spaghetti; I had to bite my lips and clamp my hand over my mouth to keep from spewing everywhere. “When I finally leave this planet, these delicious creatures will be the only things worth taking with me.”
Oh, no. Just then I heard Snarffle’s whistle-growl and the thumping of all his feet coming from behind the hallway door. How had he gotten out there?
If Scratchull found me in here now, I had no doubt that my
corpse would end up buried on some desolate desert planet three galaxies over. I held my breath and prayed that Snarffle would go away and wait for me somewhere else. Anywhere else.
The sound of hurried footsteps tromping down the hallway cut over Snarffle’s noise.
“You must leave at once,” Scratchull said, herding Greenie toward the transporter with his long arms. The wobbly alien slid quickly along the floor. Scratchull grabbed a smooshy green arm just before his accomplice entered the transporter and spun him around. “Remember. Never leave your satellite interface. Be ready to respond as soon as I call you.”
“Of course, Master.”
The sounds in the hallway grew louder. “Snarffle, what has gotten into you?” (Grandma’s muffled voice.)
Greenie glanced at the lumpy bed boulder, then up at Scratchull. “Master, how will you hide this—”
His voice cut out as Scratchull shoved him inside the transporter. “I’ll take care of it,” he whispered, and slammed the door shut.
Grandma’s voice got louder. “What in the universe are you so agitated about?” She was clearly struggling with the purple alien out in the hall. “Scratchull?” she called. “I’m sorry to bother you, but are you in there?”
“Just a moment, my dear woman,” he said.
He fished the little black device out of his pocket, flipped it open, and messed around with the controls. Then he pointed it at the mound of bed. A stream of white lightning shot out, and the bed dissolved back into a gluey mess.
Scratchull knelt, pried up the corner of a loose board, and tucked the device underneath the floor. After fixing the board back in place, he stood, crossed to the door, and cracked it open. “Yes?”
“I’m sorry to bother you,” Grandma said. “But this creature has been making such a racket.” Grandma was holding Snarffle’s harness as the purple alien struggled to get into the room. “I can’t find David anywhere. I think he tied this little guy up somewhere, but Snarffle chewed right through his leash, and I’ve been chasing him all over the house. He’s been frantic about leading me right to your door.”
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