Starship Bloopers

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Starship Bloopers Page 3

by John Kloepfer


  “Telepathy helmet . . . that must be how they are doing this.” Narbok pondered this for a moment. “If the Sfinks somehow manage to take over this cave and access its powers, then the whole universe could be in big trouble. Whoever controls the crystals can control the future. And whoever controls the future controls everything. . . .”

  They flew under a rocky arch and into a high-ceilinged cave where a massive deposit of crystals poked out of the stone walls. A light-blue glow came from the alien crystals and lit up the cave—all except one of the crystals, which gave off a bright orange light.

  “What’s that one over there?” Klyk asked. “It’s orange.”

  Narbok lowered the hover pod and parked it on the floor of the cave. Kevin waited for his friends to get out, then followed himself. His feet hit the ground, and Narbok turned to face them. “Blue means the projected future won’t threaten the universe. Orange means something is out of whack and needs to be fixed.”

  Narbok’s eyeballs rolled back into his blubbery jelly-like head, and he held his hands together at the thumbs as his other fingers fanned out like the feathers of a shadow-puppet bird. Kevin and his friends watched closely as Narbok slipped into some kind of trance. Soon the alien’s hands began to generate some kind of energy and started to glow with a sparkling, pale-green light. The alien general aimed his powers at some of the blue crystals to show them the visions of the future.

  Kevin’s blood rushed with excitement as small 3-D holograms of events from all across the galaxy began to shine above the crystals. Each crystal was like a tiny movie projector, except these movies were actually happening, about to happen, or going to happen eventually.

  “Holy cow!” TJ said, running his hand through the image projected into thin air. “These things are going on right now?”

  “Hey, look!” Tara said pointing to one of the crystals. “That’s Mim!”

  Kevin squinted through his glasses and focused on the projection. Mim, the little alien fur ball who tried to eat planet Earth less than two days ago, was behind bars in a jail cell. The cell was made of arachnopod silk, the only known substance that the little alien mercenary couldn’t chew through. Their former friend, now an intragalactic prisoner, was guarded by space cops, and he didn’t look too happy about it.

  Narbok grimaced at Mim’s image. “That alien’s bad,” he said. “Like these two.” He aimed his hands at a nearby crystal, and Kevin’s eyes bulged as Zouric and Nuzz appeared in the air. They were the two aliens who had tried to enslave every human on Earth only hours before. The big slug-like alien and the little robotic brain alien held each other, like frightened teenagers in a horror film. Their former enemies were walking through dangerous terrain, a thick, dark forest with alien monsters popping out of the shadows.

  “That’s Zouric and Nuzz!” Warner shouted excitedly.

  Narbok gave him a funny look. “You know these two?”

  “Do we know them?” Warner said. “Heck yeah, we do! We wormholed their butts across the galaxy before they could take over our planet.”

  “That was you?” Narbok asked, sounding impressed. “We wondered who did that.”

  “I watched them do it,” Klyk said.

  “Can we look at the orange one?” Kevin asked, pointing away from the blue crystals.

  “That one just turned orange,” the alien general said, walking up a pathway carved out in the cave’s steep walls. The four science campers and Klyk followed the Glomm leader.

  Narbok aimed his hands at the orange crystal, and a 3-D image appeared above the rock formation. The two aliens in the hologram looked vaguely familiar. It took Kevin a second, but then he remembered. It was Phirf and Drooq, the two alien bounty hunters they had zapped with the wormhole generator.

  Klyk gasped and let out an electronic hiss. “Those are my friends!”

  In the crystal’s vision of a possible future, Phirf and Drooq were lying unconscious in the dirt. Then, as if pulled down by quicksand, the two aliens disappeared into the ground.

  “Whoa!” Warner said. “Did that just happen?”

  “No,” Narbok said. “But it will if we don’t do something. It will.”

  “Where are they?” Klyk asked, his voice a bit frantic.

  “Planet Dybunk—that looks like their terrain,” Narbok told them. “Not too far from here.”

  “I bet I know where they are!” said Klyk. “They’re at the Mooymallo!”

  “The what?” Tara said.

  “The Moo-E-Mall-Oh,” Klyk repeated slowly. “It’s a saloon. Or a roadhouse. Like a hangout for alien tough guys.”

  “Like cowboys in a Western?” Warner asked. “Or like truckers at a truck stop?”

  “A little bit of both,” Klyk said.

  “You must go to the Mooymallo on Planet Dybunk and rescue these two,” Narbok said. “They’ve upset the crystals. They must be saved.”

  Kevin nodded. Phirf and Drooq couldn’t be abandoned. Plus, they were experts on the Sfinks. Without Phirf and Drooq, the kids—and the Glomms—didn’t stand a chance. “We’ll get you a new spaceship for your journey. But the Glomms stay here and defend the crystals—it’s too dangerous for us to leave the crystals unguarded. After you pick up your friends and rescue Max, you have to come back here to help us fight the Sfinks.”

  “Mission accepted,” Warner said, and the four kids gave each other a knowing glance. They had already saved the world twice. Why not go for a third?

  The Glomm general bounded back toward the hover pod. Kevin ran after the Jell-O-like alien, along with TJ, Tara, and Klyk. Kevin stopped halfway to the craft and turned around. Warner was nowhere in sight.

  “Warner!” Kevin shouted back for his buddy.

  After a second, Warner’s voice called back. “Yo!”

  “What are you doing?”

  “I’m just exploring a little bit,” Warner yelled.

  “No time for that, man,” Kevin shouted impatiently. “We gotta get outta here!”

  “All right! I’m comin’, I’m comin’.” Warner appeared, jogging out from behind a big rock formation. He caught up to Kevin and they both jumped onto the hover pod before Narbok hit the gears.

  The pod levitated off the floor of the cave and swooped back toward the military headquarters of planet Glomm.

  Everyone was quiet on the ride back to the war room. Kevin was lost in thought. They couldn’t let the Sfinks get control of that cave. But if the Glomms were the only ones who could see the crystals, then how did the Sfinks expect to control the future? Kevin had no idea what the Sfinks had up their sleeves, but Max had something to do with it. He had a feeling they would find out soon, for better or worse. But first they had to find Phirf and Drooq. They needed all the help they could get if they were going to find Max Greyson and stop the Sfinks.

  Narbok guided their hover pod back to the airlocked dock. The general bounced out of the pod and slunk into the war room, shouting orders at his soldiers in the Glommian tongue.

  “What are they saying?” Tara asked.

  TJ listened to the alien language as Narbok continued to gargle orders to his troops.

  “I think he’s saying to get the starship ready. . . . ,” TJ said.

  “How do you know that?” Kevin asked.

  “Yeah, how do you know that?” Klyk asked.

  “They speak in a simple language of five different noises with different intonations, which in combination form various meanings,” he told them. “Kind of like Chinese, but way simpler.”

  “You’re just making that up to sound smart!” Warner said to him.

  “Why would I do that?” TJ asked. “I am smart.”

  “Look!” Kevin said, pointing out the huge window. His friends turned to look at a large metallic spacecraft as it rose into view.

  The spaceship was sleek, with the overall shape of a trapezoid. It was relatively flat, like a stealth bomber, though it had some bulk from all the weapons attached to the wings and under the hull. It was the same silver m
etal as the other Glomm ships, but the metal was scuffed and a little rusted around the edges. But it was still an impressive vessel, and Kevin was filled with a tingly thrill of excitement.

  Warner gazed up in awe at the Glommian warship.

  “Don’t even think about it,” Klyk said and stepped in front of Warner, blocking his view of the ship. With a salute to the general, he walked down to the loading dock.

  Kevin turned to Narbok. “Thank you for helping us.”

  “Don’t thank me yet,” Narbok said. “I’ll thank you after you help us beat the Sfinks.”

  “Let’s go, Kev!” TJ said, waving from the loading dock.

  “I have to go,” Kevin said to Narbok. “But the next time you see us we’ll be with Max Greyson. And we’ll help you defeat the Sfinks. I promise!”

  Oops, Kevin thought. Usually he didn’t promise things he wasn’t sure about, but did it really matter? If they didn’t rescue Max, then the next time he saw Narbok would be never.

  About half an hour later, the Glomms’ space cruiser descended through the atmosphere of planet Dybunk, home of the Mooymallo saloon. The extraterrestrial sky was orange-red with thick, dark gray clouds swooshing quickly through the air.

  “Here we are,” Klyk said as they landed. The spaceship’s engine went quiet. “The Mooymallo is right over there.” The cyborg pointed at a modest-looking roadhouse about a hundred yards off.

  Kevin glanced out the spaceship’s window. It looked like they were smack in the middle of a desert. There were no trees or plant life. Nothing green, only dunes of dark brown dirt for miles.

  Warner pressed the button to unlock the exit hatch, and Kevin, TJ, Tara, and Klyk all jumped down to the dirty ground. Kevin breathed in the alien air. It was thick and hard to suck in through his nose, like trying to breathe through a drinking straw.

  Kevin’s chest tightened and he reached for his inhaler. He felt around in his pocket, but it wasn’t there. All he could feel was the laser pointer, which he kept with him almost always. He was starting to panic when TJ stepped up next to him and handed him the inhaler.

  “I snagged it before we left Earth,” TJ said. “Thought you might need it.”

  Kevin let out a sigh of relief and smiled at his friend. “Thanks, Teej.” He put the inhaler to his mouth and took a puff. Much better.

  He took a step forward and felt his leg take a bigger step than he intended. He tried to push off his back leg but wound up in a painful split position that sent a pang through his groin muscle.

  “Help,” Kevin uttered in a high-pitched squeal.

  Klyk appeared next to him and helped him back up.

  “Whoa!” said Warner as he bounded down from the spacecraft, hit the ground with his feet, and then jumped four feet up in the air like it was nothing.

  “Gravity’s a little bit different here,” Klyk informed them. “So be careful. Take it slow.”

  TJ took a running start and leaped as far as he could. He gracefully floated in the air for about ten yards, spreading his arms like a ballet dancer in slow motion, before making a perfect landing.

  “Nice move, Teej,” said Tara. “Check this out!” She hopped off one foot and flew straight up in the air. She spun her body around and around, like a figure skater doing the toughest trick in the book.

  “This place is amazing!” Kevin said.

  “Don’t get carried away,” Klyk said to them. “We still have to find my friends.”

  Klyk trudged through the terrain toward the roadhouse. Kevin focused on keeping his feet on the ground and walking normally, stepping into the giant footprints Klyk left behind. He looked up as they approached the alien saloon. All types of land cruisers were parked in front of the structure, like so many rows of motorcycles outside a biker bar. At least two dozen hover pods and spaceships levitated around the alien establishment.

  “After you,” Klyk said, and pushed open the door.

  Warner strolled through first, trying to look supercool. Kevin entered next, surprised by the spaciousness of the room. It didn’t make sense. Outside, the place looked so small, but inside it had the dimensions of a large warehouse.

  The alien nightclub was packed. There was music in the air that sounded like a mix of jazz and hip-hop. Kevin looked around and noticed a group of aliens strumming instruments on a large bandstand. The melody was poppy and electronic. The bass line and beat were kind of funky. It sounded pretty good.

  Tara bobbed her head to the beat as they walked through the crowd.

  Behind her, TJ tried to keep a low profile. He looked nervous. “I’m not sure this was such a good idea,” he said.

  “Chill out, TJ,” Warner said. “Act like you’ve been here before.”

  The alien roadhouse was packed with all kinds of extraterrestrial weirdoes, outlaws, and the like. Almost every type of alien in the galaxy was in attendance. There were humanoids and insectoids, reptilians and mammalians. There were walking, talking things that looked like they came from the bottom of the ocean. There were little green men with tiny eye slits and no nose, just two nostrils and a small mouth. There were taller gray men with big, wide eyes, jet black and glossy.

  “Let’s sit and have a drink,” Klyk said. “They have the best fizzers in the whole galaxy here.”

  “What’s a fizzer?” Tara asked.

  “It’s like what you would call a soda pop, but it gives you a little burst of energy,” Klyk told them as he led them to an empty table. They all sat down, but Kevin was anxious. He didn’t want a fizzer. He wanted to find Phirf and Drooq and get the heck out of here.

  “I know we just got here, guys,” he said. “But I don’t think we have time to hang around.”

  “Relax,” Klyk said. “I know one of the waiters. His name is Vilborg. He’ll know if Phirf and Drooq have been here.”

  “What do they look like again?” Kevin asked, trying to calm his nerves a little.

  Klyk pulled out his hologram device and brought up a picture of both his friends. Phirf’s face was like a squid, with one eye and a beard of little wormlike tentacles. His neck sprouted out of a short, squat robotic computer body with three squiggly, boneless arms, one of which held a photon blaster. He stood on two mechanical legs that bent backward at the knee joint.

  Drooq was a hideous-looking crab-legged slug beast. He had two eyeballs stuck to the ends of two antennae that came out of the sides of his head where the temples would be. His torso was the shape of a slug, and the whole top of his head was one big mouth.

  “They don’t exactly blend in, do they?” Tara commented.

  “That’s what I’m saying,” Kevin said. “I think we should go look for them.”

  “I don’t know, man,” Warner said. “There are some pretty freaky-looking dudes in here. Just wait a minute. I want to try a fizzer.”

  “Me, too,” TJ said. “I’m dying of thirst!”

  “Vilborg!” Klyk called jovially across the bar. “Get on over here!”

  A computerized-sounding voice called back. “Klyk!”

  He was definitely one weird-looking dude.

  The extraterrestrial waiter came over to their table on his three robot legs. He had four thick tentacles for arms and had five eyes wrapping around his cone-shaped head. Three antennae sprouted out of a funny-looking haircut, which was shaped like the fronds of a palm tree. His four tentacle arms were also covered in some kind of thick, matted, slime-slickened fur.

  “Long time, old friend!” Vilborg said, sidling up to their table. “You speaking English now?”

  “It’s more for these four than anything else,” Klyk said, gesturing to Kevin and his friends.

  “Hey, kids, welcome to the Mooymallo!” Vilborg said. “You look like you could use a few fizzers. Let me get you started.”

  Vilborg’s tentacle arms reached inside a compartment in the bottom of his robot lower half and produced five glasses of a fizzy drink, setting them down on the table in front of Klyk and the kids. The drinks were dark green and very f
izzy, with some kind of steam rising off the surface, like a beaker full of chemicals in a mad scientist’s laboratory.

  “Got another question for you, too, Vilborg,” Klyk said to his alien buddy. “You seen two of my guys around here lately?” He showed him the picture of Phirf and Drooq.

  Vilborg squinted all five of his eyes at the hologram, then made a face. “I haven’t seen them, but I just started my shift . . . sorry. I’ll ask around.”

  “Thanks, Vilborg,” Klyk said.

  TJ leaned over the table and wafted some of the steam toward his nose as if he were sniffing a caustic mixture in chemistry class. “Smells all right,” he said and lifted the drink to his lips.

  Klyk did the same and so did Warner and Tara and Kevin, swigging back the alien fizzer drinks. Klyk finished his whole mug in a single gulp, but Kevin could barely take a tiny sip. It tasted like freshly mown grass mixed with dog poop. He spat it out on the floor and looked around at his friends, who were enjoying their fizzers.

  “Are you guys kidding me?” Kevin looked shocked as his friends guzzled down their drinks. “This stuff tastes like dog doo!”

  “How do you know what dog doo-doo tastes like?” Tara asked.

  “Actually, I should have mentioned it before,” said Klyk. “A fizzer tastes different to everybody, depending on your mood and your emotional output. If you’re happy, it tastes delicious. If you’re cranky, it tastes horrible.”

  “Mine tastes like marshmallows and gummi bears!” Warner said. “I must be in a great mood!”

  “Me, too!” TJ said. “I’ll have another round.”

  “Me, three!” Tara said.

  Klyk raised his hand and snapped his fingers at Vilborg, who was across the saloon. Their furry cyborg waiter nodded and gave them the universal sign for “just a second.”

 

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