Aliens Stole My Body

by Bruce Coville

  * * *

  I might have gone wild with worry if Snout hadn’t continued to work with me on the training we had started back on Kryndamar, teaching me more about mastering my thoughts and focusing the power of my brain.

  Actually, it’s my brain, Seymour pointed out, more than once.

  So what’s your complaint? I would reply. You’re learning, too, aren’t you?

  For all the good it will do me, he responded gloomily.

  Be cheerful! urged Snout.

  Are you nuts? thought Seymour. We’re prisoners on a ship owned by a madman, and everyone we care about is in the deep freeze. I’m not sure that qualifies as a laugh riot!

  We still live, I would think—though I wasn’t all that cheerful myself, when you came right down to it.

  And then one day we were there. As we approached the center of the galaxy, Seymour and Edgar and I went to stand on the main deck, so we could watch on the ship’s viewscreen. What we saw was a circle of absolute blackness. I had expected that—it was a black hole, after all. What I hadn’t expected was the ring of shimmering light that surrounded it.

  Those are light rays that have been trapped by the black hole’s gravity, explained Snout. They are in orbit around it.

  Since I had been taught that light always travels in a straight line, the idea of light being in orbit really weirded me out.

  The universe is vast and strange, said Snout. Sooner or later most of the rules we think we know are broken.

  BKR’s fortress was in orbit beyond the ring of light. The fortress was big, about the size of a large supermarket. A door opened in the side of it, and he steered the ship into a landing bay. We docked against a sealed opening.

  “Home at last,” said BKR as the doors between the ship and the fortress opened. He sounded satisfied, almost happy. “What a view we have of that vastly powerful pit of destruction. Cozy, isn’t it, Bonzetta?”

  “If it’s so cozy, then perhaps you won’t mind taking a little nap,” said a familiar voice.

  A very familiar voice.

  My father’s.

  A red canister came hurtling into the ship. It burst open, sending out a cloud of white gas. At the same time the doors between the ship and the fortress slid shut again.

  “Curse you, Ah-rit!” screamed BKR. Grabbing his throat he began to stagger, gasping and choking.

  Groggy, thought Seymour. Can’t keep the eye open.

  As we began to fall asleep, I saw Bonzetta yawn and slide to the floor. Arly Bung slumped in her chair. Smorkus Flinders toppled sideways.

  “No!” screamed BKR. “NO NO NO NO NO!”

  But his cries were getting weaker, and soon he was flat on the floor.

  That was the last I saw for a time, because we were asleep, too.

  * * *

  When Seymour and I started to wake, traces of the white gas still floated in the air.

  The others were still asleep.

  How long have we been out? I wondered.

  Just a couple of minutes, replied Snout, who was still connected with us.

  How come we woke up so soon? asked Seymour.

  I suspect the effect of the gas was reduced because you breathe through your skin, answered Snout.

  The door slid open, revealing two figures. Even though their faces were covered by gas masks, I knew it was my father and Tar Gibbons. Seymour and I scrambled to our feet, eager to go and greet them.

  Dad held up a small sensor of some kind. When it made a clear, high tone, he turned and nodded to the Tar. They slipped off their masks. Dad stepped through the door.

  To my horror, no sooner had he crossed the threshold than a beam of red light shot across the room.

  Dad cried out, and slumped to the floor.

  Tar Gibbons spun to see where the light had come from, as did Seymour and I.

  Quince was sitting against the wall, eyes wide open, ray gun in hand.

  “That stuff doesn’t work so well on someone who’s breathing water,” said the scaly alien. “Now, crouch down and put your hands on your head, bugman. Do it fast, or I’ll change the setting on this ray gun and do something permanent to your friend on the floor there.”

  Tar Gibbons did as Quince ordered. In only a moment the water breather had a blue ring around the Tar’s neck.

  In that same moment our last hope had collapsed in ashes.

  No, thought Snout. There is still one thing we can do.

  What? I asked desperately. What hope do we have left?

  We have you, Rod. I can channel your brain back into your own body. Once you have control of it, perhaps you can turn the tables once again, and let us get the upper hand.

  But if I fail . . .

  If you fail, BKR will have your brain, and with it the information he needs to carry out his fiendish plan to destroy time itself.

  Could I really risk the fate of every living being in the universe in order to save my friends and family? Well, I’ve still got Madame Pong’s suicide ring, I thought. Then I realized that the ring wouldn’t be any use if BKR captured me once I was back in my own body, since it would still be on Seymour’s paw!

  But there was something else to consider. Even if we did manage to keep the information in my brain away from BKR, who could tell what new scheme he might cook up to terrorize the universe next year, or the year after?

  Would anyone ever have a better chance to stop him than I did right now?

  The dice were mine to roll.

  At stake—the fate of the universe.

  CHAPTER

  21

  Transfer Student

  BKR HAD MY BODY TRANSFERRED to a room in his fortress. He sent the animals—Bonehead, Edgar, and Seymour and I—along with it.

  Then, one by one, he brought the others out of suspended animation, and took Grakker and Phil out of the stasis tubes.

  One by one, he had them searched for weapons, then marched to the same room.

  It should have been a joyful reunion—joyful for the crew, and even more joyful for my parents, who were seeing each other for the first time in more than three years.

  But there could be no joy while we were in the grip of BKR. And very few words were spoken, because everyone knew BKR would be listening.

  My father was the last to enter the room. When he did, my mother gasped and ran to him. She threw herself into his arms, and they held each other tight.

  “Who’s that man?” asked Little Thing One, tugging at my mother’s skirt.

  “Do we like him?” asked Little Thing Two.

  My father closed his eyes, and his face was lined with pain.

  “Yes, dears,” said Mom softly. “We like him. We like him very much. Even though he does have some explaining to do.”

  “Why are you crying, Mommy?” asked Little Thing One.

  But Mom shook her head, and wouldn’t—or couldn’t—talk anymore.

  After a minute Little Thing One went over to the case that held my body. “Roddie!” she said, patting the clear top. “Roddie, wake up!” She turned to my mother, her lip trembling. “Why won’t Roddie wake up?”

  “Roddie’s not there, Linda,” whispered Mom. “That’s just his body. The rest of Roddie, the real Roddie, is somewhere else.”

  “Where?” demanded Little Thing Two.

  “Alas,” said Madame Pong quickly, “that is a great mystery.” It was one of her classic absolutely-true-but-totally-empty-of-information answers—given, I was sure, for the sake of BKR.

  “Well, I want him back!” said Little Thing Two. “Now!”

  “We all want Roddie back,” whispered Mom. “But not now. Not here. Now come sit with me, and be quiet.”

  Mom and Dad sat on the floor and the twins climbed into their laps. I longed to join them, but didn’t dare, for fear it would tip BKR off to where I was hiding.

  * * *

  After about an hour of this uncomfortable silence, the door opened. Quince, Bonzetta, Arly Bung, and Smorkus Flinders came in, holding their weapons r
aised and ready to shoot. They ordered us to stand together in the center of the room.

  When they were satisfied, BKR came through the door.

  “Well, well, well,” he said, rubbing his little blue hands together. “Isn’t this nice? Friends and family, all in one place.” His smile faded, and when he spoke again his voice was cold as ice. “Now look, you people. I am convinced that at least one of you knows what has happened to Rod Allbright’s brain, and I intend to get that information out of you no matter what it takes. Is that clear?”

  “Perfectly,” said Madame Pong, speaking for the group.

  “Good. You have an hour to think about it. When that hour is up, you will be brought to the main control room of the fortress. I think you’ll like it up there; we have a nice view of the black hole, and you can observe that magnificent pit of destruction quite clearly. The nothingness is quite stunning. I’m going to leave you here until then. No need to bind you—the doors will be sealed, and there’s nothing in here you can use as a weapon. When we return to the main deck, either you tell me what I want to know, or one of you goes out the air lock while the rest of us watch. And then another . . . and another . . . and—”

  He paused, and tipped his head to one side. “The only thing I haven’t decided yet is whether the lucky first place winner should enter the greater universe without a space suit, so he or she will die quickly, or in a space suit, so that he or she will still be alive as he or she gets sucked into the black hole.” He made a little clucking noise. “Decisions, decisions. They’re the curse of a thinking man’s life. Well, see you in a little while, kids. Happy pondering!”

  With that, he and his guards left the room, sealing the door behind them.

  “Now what do we do?” asked Mom when they were gone.

  “We wait,” said my father. At the same time he grabbed his earlobe and wiggled it, to remind Mom that anything we said was being listened to.

  She nodded and fell silent.

  I repeated her question to Snout, glad for once that the only way I could communicate was in a way BKR could not hear.

  We wait, he replied, echoing my father. We think. We stay alert for any opportunity. And we stay calm.

  Seymour and I padded over to look at my body. Putting our little blue feet on the front end of the stasis tube, we stared down into my face. It was weird to be outside my own skin, staring in, so close I could have touched it, and yet somehow impossibly far away. After a moment Madame Pong and Snout came over to join us.

  “I miss that boy,” sighed Madame Pong. “I wish I knew where he was.”

  The tiniest hint of a smile poked at the corners of Snout’s mouth. BKR won’t believe she really means that, he explained. Even so, it should help keep him guessing.

  * * *

  Soon, far too soon, BKR and the others returned. They put blue restraining rings on everyone except Bonehead, Edgar, and Seymour and me.

  Then they led us all to the main deck. On a huge viewscreen we could see the black hole in all its destructive glory.

  “Now here’s another vexing question,” said BKR once everyone was in place. “Shall I start big, or small? For example, I could begin with Mrs. Allbright, or maybe one of the twins; either choice would pack a very solid emotional punch. On the other hand, I might want to save the big stuff for later. I could start with the dog, I suppose—kind of as a small sample of what’s to come. Plus, he annoys me, so I would be killing two birds with one stone, so to speak. The problem with that is, you might get used to the idea, build up some tolerance for it. No, we should definitely start big.”

  He broke into a broad grin. “Problem solved! See, you just have to think these things through carefully. So, we’ve decided that it will be someone you all care about a lot. But who? I need someone who will make an impact, but who is not apt to take the information I need with her. One of the twins would probably qualify. But I’ve already tried that once, and I do so hate to repeat myself. There’s no art in it, if you know what I mean.”

  He shrugged. “Well, then, that settles it. By the way, you don’t mind my thinking out loud like this, do you?”

  No one answered.

  “Good. Anyway, the choice is . . . ah, I can see you’re hanging on my every word. Thank you. I do so love an audience.”

  “Just get on with it, BKR,” growled Grakker.

  Even in these terrible circumstances, it was good to hear his cranky voice again.

  BKR rolled his eyes. “You never did have a proper sense of ceremony, old chum. All right, since you insist, the winner is . . . Mrs. Allbright!”

  “No!” cried my father.

  “Mommy! Mommy!” cried the twins.

  Something in my heart seemed to snap in two.

  My mother straightened her shoulders. She looked around the room, letting her gaze rest first on Dad, then the twins. She didn’t look at me for more than an instant.

  Finally she spoke.

  “I do not believe any of us know where Rod is,” she said, lying more fluidly than I would have thought possible. “But even if we did, it would be my deepest prayer that not one of us would tell you, no matter what you do.”

  She turned back to my father, gazed at him with tears trembling in her eyes. “I have waited three years for you to come back, Art. I never expected that when we met again, it would be like this. You kept things secret from me, dear-heart, more secrets than you should have, with reasons that I think were much too small. Now we have a reason much greater. If you love me, if you ever loved me, if you love the children we created together, do not breathe a word to this little beast.”

  BKR rolled his eyes and clapped his hands lazily together. “Oh, very good, Mrs. Allbright. Very good indeed. Now, are you nearly ready to go?”

  And that was when I made my choice.

  NOW! I thought to Snout. Transfer me NOW!

  It began. I could feel myself being funneled out of Seymour, as if I were being sucked out of something by a psychic vacuum cleaner. The world swirled around me. I experienced a great wrenching, as if my brain was being torn in half, then a terrible emptiness.

  Good-bye, Uncle Rod! called Seymour. I’ll miss you!

  Thoughts and memories and emotions swirled around me, a weird combination of images of my old life and thoughts of the adventures I had shared with Seymour, memories of Kryndamar and Krixna tumbling over images of the swamp behind my house, and my fifth-grade classroom.

  And then it was over, and I was in my own body again.

  Did you ever come home after a long trip? Then you know how it feels to be back in your own space, with your own things, after being away for too long. Coming back to my own body was a little bit like that, but in a way so deep that I can’t begin to explain it.

  I lay there for an instant, feeling almost seasick. Then I realized I had no time for that. I had to get out, to get to my mother.

  I tried to move.

  To my horror, I was held tight by the stasis tube.

  I had my body back, but I still couldn’t use it! I was frozen in place.

  And BKR was about to fling my mother into a black hole.

  CHAPTER

  22

  Me at Last

  I THOUGHT I WAS GOING to explode with panic.

  Stay calm, said a familiar voice. I was relieved to find Snout was still in mental contact with me.

  But staying calm seemed a ridiculous idea under the circumstances.

  What do I do? I thought to him in horror. I can’t get out of this thing. I can’t move at all!

  Nor is there any way for me to get out of this room, thought Snout.

  Then I heard another voice. I think I can get away. They’re not paying much attention to us animals.

  It was Seymour. He was still in contact with me!

  Hey, what’s the surprise, Uncle Rod? Two guys share a brain as long as we did, and they ought to be able to talk to each other. Hold on. I’ll be there as soon as I can.

  I could see what Seymour was
seeing. I could see what Snout was seeing. I just couldn’t see what I should have been seeing, because my eyes were shut, and I couldn’t open them.

  On the main deck, BKR was strutting back and forth, spouting off about how he was going to throw my mother out the air lock. At first I wondered why he was going on about it so long.

  Two reasons, replied Snout, answering the question even though I hadn’t actually asked it of him. The first is that he wants to build up tension, force us to really think about what he’s doing. His hope is that someone will crack and tell him where you are. The thing is, it’s unlikely to change the situation even if we do. If someone breaks, BKR will probably send us all out the air lock anyway, just for the fun of it. Which brings up the other reason he’s blathering on right now: he’s enjoying the fear and pain on everyone’s faces, the hurt and terror in their eyes. He wants to savor the moment as long as he can.

  Millions have wept, I thought, quoting Madame Pong again.

  Precisely, replied Snout.

  I probably would have wept, too, if I could have forced my body to do anything.

  Still watching through Snout’s eyes, I saw BKR stop in front of my mother.

  “We’re going for the suit,” he said decisively. “It will be more scientific that way, don’t you think?”

  “Scientific?” echoed Mom. She sounded numb, as if the horror of the situation had gotten so out of hand she could no longer feel it.

  “Well, of course, dear lady. If we simply chuck you out of the ship, you’ll be dead long before you fall into the grip of the event horizon, and we won’t gather a scintilla of data regarding how it feels to be sucked into that giant gravity pipe. What a wasted opportunity! But if we pack you into the suit, why, we can listen to your reaction. Probably nothing but a lot of screaming and moaning, of course, which will be boring when you come right down to it. But you never know until you try. And it will probably affect the children quite intensely.”

  Mom straightened her shoulders. “I thought nothing came out of a black hole,” she said. Her voice was hoarse, weary.

  BKR smiled. “Mrs. Allbright, you are too quick for me. You’re right, of course. Mere radio waves couldn’t make it out at all; they’d be sucked right in with you. That’s why I’m going to keep you physically connected to us, for a while at least. Oh, I’m so proud of this little bit! You see, I have about twenty thousand miles of ultra-fine cable to which I am going to connect you. Though the cable will be lost to us forever once we’ve reeled it all out—a pity, but one must sacrifice if one wants to do science properly—until it goes, we’ll be able to monitor your words. Or noises. Screams. Whatever. Oh, I would dearly love to keep track of you for the entire fall. Who knows what wonders you may experience? Odds are you’ll be dead within minutes, of course. But maybe not! Good gracious, I do envy you this adventure, dear lady. Consider the possibilities! What if the black hole really is a gateway to another universe? What if your body actually does withstand the terrible forces that will be pulling it, extending it, stretching it so that it’s miles long? It probably won’t, of course. But there’s so much we still don’t know. Wouldn’t it be fascinating if you did survive? It makes me want to weep that we won’t be able to follow your progress all the way down.”