“What’s happening?” you ask.
“I needed time to get him to stop paying attention to what I was doing. I basically just unplugged our wonderful CLINT. I had to turn off all sections of his memory and back it up so he doesn’t start to kill off all the sleeping astronauts.”
“Right,” you say, not understanding a single thing.
“Silas,” CLINT says, sounding a little desperate now. “Commander Noble.”
“Go ahead,” Noble says. “Make my day.”
There’s a pause, followed by a loud hissing sound.
“Don’t worry,” CLINT says, now sounding like a computer program. “I won’t hurt you.”
The commander laughs.
“Who made him sound like Clint Eastwood?” John Luke asks.
“One of the programmers. Sorta an inside joke. But yeah. This deep in space—he was bound for a meltdown. A miduniverse crisis.”
The computerized voice comes back over the speakers. “I only want you to have some fuuuuuuuuuuunnnnnnnnnnnnnnn.”
Then there’s nothing but static.
“Hey, boys,” Commander Noble says, “can we have a moment of silence for our CLINT 1999?”
For a second you think he’s being serious until he shouts, “He’s gone!” and follows this up with a “Who wants to go home?”
Both you and John Luke raise your hands.
“Hey, look, Jack—everybody else is already sleeping,” Noble says.
You give him a funny look.
“You know you’re sounding a lot like me?” you ask him.
“That’s right, Jack. This deep in space, you do what you gotta do.”
Some loud and rocking music turns on without warning. The commander presses a button, cranking the music up louder. Like really, really loud.
You feel the whole spaceship vibrating.
Can spaceships rock up and down?
“Listen,” the commander tells you. “‘If the elevator tries to bring you down, go crazy.’”
He turns the music up even louder until you finally sigh. You’re becoming Sigh Robertson, and it sure ain’t fun.
“I wanna get back home,” John Luke says.
“Me too. Me too.”
You start to calculate how long it will take, and then you think, Nah.
You’ve been thinking too long.
For the short time you’re awake, you can rock out and dance and feel good.
Soon you’ll be knocked out in a steady space cybersleep.
Then, God willing, you’ll be back in West Monroe.
Thankful. Blessed.
And avoiding every single Clint Eastwood movie ever made.
THE END
Start over.
Read “Look at the Stars: A Note from John Luke Robertson.”
HOME SWEET HOME
YOU’RE HEADED HOME with all the crew members of the DC Enterprise still alive.
Wow, that was easy.
Granted, your ship just blew up right over Mars after a mysterious alien device crashed into it, and also granted that the three Enterprise crew members who went aboard Starsailor (and who you couldn’t get ahold of earlier) reappeared, all miraculously okay (but you’re not sure you buy that explanation!). Now you’re heading back home on the Starsailor.
Oh yeah, as for what happened to the original crew of the Starsailor? They just had a bad case of the flu. Really, really bad flu. But they’re fine. No worries, Jack.
You’re about ready to settle into cybersleep when Ashley, the science officer, comes back to talk to you. “Hey, Silas and John Luke. Before we go into stasis, I’m curious about something.”
“Yeah?” you say.
“How’d everything just—just suddenly get wrapped up and tied into a nice, neat bow? I mean, we were stranded on Mars with no idea what the future would hold.”
You meet John Luke’s eyes. You could tell Ashley the truth, but you’re not sure she’s ready for the truth.
Yeah, Ashley, here’s the truth: You’re made up. But John Luke and me? We’re real.
In the words of Jack Nicholson, “You can’t handle the truth!”
So for one of the rare moments in your life, you stay quiet. You don’t even quote a song lyric.
“Ashley,” John Luke says in a comforting tone, “the thing about life and the stories we live out is that sometimes they don’t have logic. Sometimes they do lack conflict. Sometimes things can work out for the best.”
You both stare at John Luke. What happened to him?
“Yeah, I say ditto to that, Jack.”
“Okay.” Ashley begins to leave. “I’m just disappointed that someone like Wade didn’t turn out to be the bad guy.”
“Maybe he did,” John Luke says. “Maybe that’s for another story line.”
You shake your head at him. “When did you become so authorly?”
“Hey, Uncle Si, I have lots of personas. Dumb is just one of them.” He smiles, flashing his trademark dimple.
You settle back in your space suits and get ready for a long rest. Maybe you can dream about how you managed to escape the mysterious alien entity hovering over Mars.
Nah.
You just want to dream about West Monroe and the joy you’ll find in getting back home.
Like Dorothy from The Wizard of Oz says, there’s no place like it.
THE END
Start over.
Read “Look at the Stars: A Note from John Luke Robertson.”
US AND THEM
IS THERE ANY POSSIBLE WAY you could have chosen not to go investigate a mysterious duck call on Mars? This is what you were born to do. You were born to be wild. To make duck calls. And to go a little crazy on the Red Planet.
E.T.’s gonna be phoning home when I’m done with him.
The commander seems nervous. The pilot seems amused. The other astronauts seem serious. And you? You’re feeling like a rock star.
Unknown entity? You eat those for breakfast. Literally. They should see some of the things that end up in the omelets you make.
The ride down in the landing craft is shaky. You’re doing okay, though, Jack. You high-five John Luke. He’s been way too quiet since you left the DC Enterprise, but, hey—it’s space. You’re pretty sure they can hear you scream, but you can’t really talk when you’re as nervous as he appears to be.
Soon you’re on a flat field, standing near the biggest duck call you’ve ever seen. Commander Noble, Science Officer Ashley Jones, you, and John Luke all face the hovering black object.
You remember that it’s making sounds—but sounds you’re unable to hear. “Are those frequency things happening right now?” you ask over the radio.
Ashley Jones answers. “We’ve detected strange anomalies in the atmospheric conditions surrounding this entity, but there’s still nothing the human ear can hear.”
It’s odd how the thing’s just floating like a hologram or something. You start to walk toward it, but Commander Noble pulls you back.
“Don’t touch it.”
Suddenly you hear the sound. An awful, loud, crazy sound, even worse than the version Kim played on the ship.
The noise continues full blast, and all of you are forced to bend over, trying desperately to get the mind-numbing sound out of your heads.
You never would have believed a duck call could be so awful.
You want to ask what you can do, but you can’t say anything. You can barely stand. You wish you had the strength to knock it over or a grenade to blow it up.
But there’s only one option here.
Go here.
TAKE ME HOME
OKAY, WHOA. HOLD ON, JACK.
You and John Luke have arrived at a room, and the whole astronaut crew is here—well, everybody except Commander Noble and Ben Parkhurst. But both Willie and Jase are here in space with you!
“We’re gonna explain everything,” Willie tells you.
The room is some kind of toolshed filled with all kinds of tables full of parts and pieces o
f machinery. There’s something else in the corner of the room—something tall that’s covered by a bedspread.
“What’s that thing?” you ask.
Jase goes over to it and pulls off the bedcover. You see an outhouse. A strange outhouse with a duck carved out of the door.
Now that you can see it, you know exactly what this is. But why is it here?
“This is our ticket home, ladies and gentlemen,” Jase says. “We got us a time machine. And it just so happens to serve as a teleporter as well.”
“If I didn’t see you two knuckleheads here, I’d think I was crazy,” you say.
“Si, you are crazy.”
“So, Dad,” John Luke asks, “how’d you figure out this thing would teleport you?”
Willie shakes his head. “I didn’t figure it out. Sadie did. She went on a time traveling adventure of her own, and now she knows this machine like the back of her hand.”
“You know we can’t leave without the commander and the pilot,” you remind them.
Right then and there, both Noble and Parkhurst come rushing through the door.
“We got the vital parts off the DC Enterprise before blowing it up,” the commander says.
“Wait, Jack. You blew up the spaceship?”
“We don’t want these aliens coming back to our planet. We’ve also got explosives rigged all around their ship. In about, oh, ten minutes, this whole place is going to go boom.”
“So come on!” Jase shouts. “What are you waitin’ for? Let’s go. Old people and children first.”
You stand there and so does John Luke. Everyone else is staring at you.
“I don’t see any old people,” you tell Jase.
“I don’t see any children,” John Luke adds.
“Okay, fine, let’s just all go,” Jase says. “One by one. Come on.”
Willie is smiling. You notice his flag bandanna and think it’s never looked so good.
The crew members each step inside the wooden outhouse and disappear. When you enter the structure, you have this strange feeling you’ve set foot in it before.
It all happens so fast. Everything turns dark. You feel motion but don’t have time to brace yourself.
The dark becomes blinding light.
You feel like you’re falling for a second.
The outhouse hits the ground, and the brightness of day floods in as the door swings open. Once your eyes adjust, you see someone you recognize.
It’s Korie.
“Did that really happen?” you ask.
She gives you a hug. “Yes, it did. Welcome home, Uncle Si. We missed you guys.”
For a minute you just take it in. John Luke’s standing next to his mother. All of the astronauts are here.
When the door opens again, Jase walks out. Willie is next.
“There he is,” you say. “Luke Skywalker comin’ to save the day.”
“Luke? You kiddin’ me? It’s Han Solo. And that over there is Chewbacca.” Willie points to Jase.
“What are you callin’ me?” Jase says in his ornery sort of way.
Ah.
There’s nothing like being home, Jack.
THE HAPPY END
Start over.
Read “Look at the Stars: A Note from John Luke Robertson.”
TURN TO STONE
YOU LEAVE THE LIGHT-BLUE ROOM—something about it seems suspicious to you. As you head down a corridor, footsteps echo around you—from both directions.
Soon you see them. Pirates rushing toward you.
And hey, when will the idea of pirates in space ever sound cool or interesting? Because it ain’t, and it’s not hip to be square.
“Right here—there’s a doorway!” John Luke shouts. You both run down a narrow hallway that ends in a round dead end of sorts.
You circle the enclosed space, trying to find any way out.
“Where are we?” John Luke asks.
Suddenly the floor drops out from under you, and you both fall while the ground underneath you lowers. It’s like a really fast, messed-up elevator.
When the floor is steady again, you find yourself looking up at the world from what appears to be a round pit somewhere in the bottom of the ship. Hissing sounds come from all around you as steam pours out from the walls.
There’s no way to get out of this trap you’re in. No way but up, of course.
Soon you can see two helmets peering down at you—one’s silver and one’s gold.
“Gentlemen, gentlemen, gentlemen,” one of the masked men says.
“Hey, Jack. I’ll show you a gentleman if you get down here and fight me one-on-one.”
“Feeling warm, Silas? A bit hot, John Luke?”
“You’ll be the hot one when I get out of here.”
“I think we can cool you off a bit. How would you like a little brain freeze?” Gold Helmet asks.
The steam and smoke become more intense.
“We’ve never used this on humans, but it sure looks fun in the movies. Prepare the carbon freeze!”
As the hissing and fizzling accelerate all around you, John Luke gives you the saddest look you’ve ever seen.
“We’ll be all right, John Luke.”
“Uncle Si . . . I love you, man.”
You smile. “I know.”
Soon it’s not so warm anymore. You feel a blast of cold air, then really cold air. Then you realize you can’t move.
This is really unfortunate, too, ’cause they caught you right when you were picking your nose.
Carbon-encased nose-picking Si.
Not the best way to go out, Jack.
THE END
Start over.
Read “Look at the Stars: A Note from John Luke Robertson.”
LOOK AT THE STARS
A Note from John Luke Robertson
I LOVE LISTENING TO MY FATHER TELL STORIES. He’s always had an incredible gift to draw people in and make them laugh or surprise them. Obviously Dad got this gift from my papaw, Phil Robertson. Sitting in a duck blind between the two of them while they tell (or make up) stories has been a blessing growing up.
I’ve thought about this while working on these books. It’s been both fun and challenging creating crazy story lines like the ones you just read. Anytime you start to fill a blank screen with words, there are many places where you can get it wrong.
But all I have to do is look up at the stars to realize that the very first Creator—our Creator—never gets it wrong. From the very beginning, when he created the sun and the moon and the stars, God got it right. And we see his endless creativity every morning at dawn and every evening at sunset.
The infinite reaches of the solar system show the awesome glory of our God. The fact that God could make something so endless and so truly out of this world boggles my mind. But it also gives me hope late at night when the darkness surrounds me. I just have to look up to see an ocean of stars and know God is in control.
I love Job 38:31-33, where God responds to Job’s questions and doubts:
“Can you direct the movement of the stars—
binding the cluster of the Pleiades
or loosening the cords of Orion?
Can you direct the sequence of the seasons
or guide the Bear with her cubs across the heavens?
Do you know the laws of the universe?
Can you use them to regulate the earth?”
Job’s answer is the same as mine or anybody else’s: no. Absolutely no way.
Yet God can and does. He doesn’t need to ponder which choice to make like we do. His actions are always correct—even when we don’t understand them.
Next time you look into space, think about Uncle Si being out there. No, just kidding. Really think about God’s infinite creativity, as wide and deep as his infinite love for you and me.
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Si in Space Page 12
