Aliens for Lunch

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Aliens for Lunch Page 2

by Stephanie Spinner


  “Maybe there won’t be any Earth left,” said Henry. “Maybe the Threllians will just wipe out the whole planet. And then we’ll never get home.”

  “Gross!” yelped Richard, looking around the cell. Its walls were gray, and just as Wali Dood had said, it was small and smelly. Richard thought of his own room. Then he thought of his mom and tears sprang into his eyes.

  Just then the door of the cell clanged open. Richard and Henry jumped to their feet as two guards walked in. “Get up!” said the first one.

  “Don’t try anything or we’ll freeze you,” said the second one. He shoved the boys out into a long gray hallway. “Now move it!” he ordered.

  “Where are you taking us?” asked Richard. He was so scared he was sweating. “To some horrible torture chamber?” The guards didn’t answer. They just grinned at each other. Then they led the boys all the way down the hall. Finally they came to a set of big gray metal doors, and the first guard snickered. “We don’t need torture chambers here, Earth boy. We have prison dining halls. We’re taking you to lunch.”

  The prison dining hall was big, gray, noisy, and lined with rows of tables. It was a lot like the cafeteria in Richard’s school.

  “Sit down,” said the first guard, pushing the boys onto a crowded bench. “Eat hearty,” said the second guard, giving Richard one last shove before he walked off.

  Richard sneaked a look around. Not all the prisoners at the table were Graxians. Next to Richard was a big blue creature who was mostly scales and teeth. It held out a claw that looked like it could slice a turkey in half in one stroke.

  “I’m a Turinga death machine,” it hissed into Richard’s ear. “Please pass the bemush.”

  “Uh—what’s bemush?” asked Richard. He looked up and down the table nervously.

  The claw reached over Richard and grabbed a bowl of lumpy pink paste. “This,” hissed the creature from Turinga. It poured the paste all over the food on its plate. Then it emptied the whole mess into a hole on top of its head. There was a long, loud flushing sound. Then the Turinga death machine snorted. “Even bemush can’t make this stuff taste good,” it said.

  Richard inspected his own plate. It was covered with a mixture of brownies, peanut brittle, and green and purple jellybeans. His spirits lifted just a little bit. They were all things he really liked. And, he realized, he was hungry. But when he popped some of the mixture into his mouth, he got a nasty shock. It tasted like an old spitball.

  “Ugh,” he said to Henry, who was sitting across from him. “No wonder the Graxians are desperate. Have you tasted your lunch?”

  Before Henry could answer, the Graxian sitting next to him started pounding his claws on the table. “I can’t eat this,” he whined. “There’s no whipped cream on it. We always get whipped cream when we have Earth desserts.”

  There were grunts of agreement from the other prisoners. A few of them pounded on the table, too.

  A huge guard lurched over to the table. He was carrying a heavy metal canister. “Who wants whipped cream?” he asked.

  “I do,” said the Graxian next to Richard.

  “Me too,” said the Turinga death machine.

  “Me too. Me too,” said some of the other prisoners.

  The guard brought the canister down, hard, onto the head of the big Graxian. He slid to the floor, unconscious. “There you are,” sneered the guard. “We try to keep our prisoners happy. Anyone else?” He looked at Richard and Henry. “You want some whipped cream, too? Or a cherry, maybe?”

  “No, sir,” said Richard quickly.

  “Me neither,” said Henry. “But—”

  “But what?”

  “I wouldn’t mind some vegetables if you have them.”

  The instant Henry spoke these words, deep silence fell over the hall. “Wh—what?” asked the guard, backing away slightly.

  “Vegetables,” said Henry. His voice sounded very loud in the stillness. “You know. Zucchini? Asparagus? Green pepper?” The guard backed away a little more.

  “Or how about celery?” asked Henry. He pulled a little plastic bag out of his pants pocket. In it were the celery sticks Mrs. Bickerstaff had left for lunch. “Like these,” said Henry. He held them up.

  The guard’s little eyes opened very wide, and he made a strange gagging sound. Then his eyes closed and he fell over in a heap.

  “Give me some of those,” Richard said to Henry. Hundreds of terrified eyes watched as Henry handed over a bunch of celery sticks. Hundreds of terrified Graxian bodies dropped to the floor as Richard waved the sticks in the air.

  “These work a whole lot better than spray soy sauce,” he said to Henry. “Now let’s get out of here.”

  Once they were outside the prison dining hall Richard and Henry realized their troubles were by no means over. They had absolutely no idea how to find Aric. Or how to escape once they did. They weren’t sure how the celery worked on the Graxians, either. Did it make them faint for a long time? Or for only a few minutes?

  On top of everything else, they were starving. “I could kick myself for not eating some of that popcorn Mom left us for lunch,” said Richard. “Maybe we should look for the prison kitchen before we try to find Aric.”

  “But Graxian food is horrible,” Henry reminded him. He took a bite out of a celery stick. “Too bad you don’t like this stuff,” he said.

  “Henry!” shouted Richard. “Stop! You’re eating our weapons!”

  “Oops, sorry,” said Henry. “I forgot.” He put the celery back in his pocket. Then he thought for a moment. “You know,” he said slowly, “maybe we really should try the kitchen. Not for food, but to find Aric. I mean, where would they freeze him, anyway? In a freezer, right?”

  “You’re a genius!” said Richard. “Let’s go!”

  Henry was pretty smart about finding the kitchen, too. He guessed that it was probably next to the dining hall, and he was right.

  The boys tiptoed in. The kitchen was like most of the other Graxian rooms they had been in—big, cold, gray, and smelly. They started down the center, which was lined with rows of tall gray counters. Then they heard a sound—a voice—from the far end.

  They ducked. “And it’s looking stranger by the minute, Derek,” said a man’s voice. “There’ve been six separate sightings in the last two hours alone.”

  The boys realized they were hearing another television newscast from Earth. But who was watching it? They crept through the rest of the kitchen as quietly as they could.

  “Can you see a pattern in it, Jim?” asked another voice.

  “It looks candy-related to me,” Jim answered solemnly. Then his voice rose in surprise. “What do you know?” he exclaimed. “We’ve just gotten news of sightings over the Swiss Chocolate Institute and the Twinkie plant in Japan! Can this be happening all over the globe?”

  By now Richard and Henry were close to the television—close enough to see two big leathery Graxian guards watching it. One was eating hot fudge sauce out of a bowl the size of a sink. As the boys tiptoed closer, he threw down his spoon.

  “Who am I kidding?” he asked in disgust. “I can’t eat this stuff. It tastes like esht.” He turned off the television. “It’s a good thing we got that new supply of XTC,” he said. “I’m about ready to kill for a decent dessert.”

  The other guard laughed. “Sounds like the Thrells are, too. Boy, I’m glad we don’t have to tangle with them. Those poor little Earthlings won’t know what hit ‘em. Be fun to watch on the tube,” he added.

  “Speaking of watching,” said the first guard, “have you checked the Ganoobian yet?”

  “He’s in the freezer. What’s there to check?”

  “Those were Wali Dood’s orders,” said the first guard.

  “Orders, shmorders,” said the second guard, getting heavily to his feet. “They should pay us better for working so hard.” He lumbered over to the far end of the kitchen and pulled a handle set into the wall. The freezer door swung open and great clouds of white drifted into
the room. “Looks okay to me,” he called. Then he made a gagging sound and toppled over. Henry had thrust the celery sticks right into his face.

  Richard and Henry looked at each other and grinned. “I have new respect for vegetables,” whispered Richard. “It’s about time,” said Henry. He reached over the guard’s body into the freezer. There was Aric, sitting on a stack of frozen chocolate cakes. He was frozen, too—all scrunched up like a wad of gray chewed bubblegum.

  “He looks awful,” gasped Richard.

  “Well, he’s always getting beamed around the galaxy in cereal boxes and popcorn. Being frozen shouldn’t bother him too much. I bet he’ll be okay.”

  Richard hoped Henry was right. He picked Aric up and put him inside his shirt so he’d warm up faster. “Eeyow!” he yelped. It was like trying to cuddle an ice ball.

  “Hey, Sherbrik! What’s going on over there?” shouted the first guard. He poked his head around a counter and saw Richard and Henry standing over Sherbrik’s body.

  Richard thought fast. “Just show him a tiny bit of the celery,” he whispered to Henry. “Or else he’ll faint before we can find out how to get out of here.”

  “Good thinking,” said Henry.

  “Hold it. Don’t move,” growled the guard. But before he could say anything else, Henry was holding the celery up at him so that only about a half-inch showed. The guard stopped in his tracks and swallowed hard. Then he turned from orange to yellow.

  “How do we get to the palace?” demanded Richard. “Tell us!”

  “Put that thing away, please,” whimpered the guard. “I can’t stand it. It’s making me sick.” The fins on his head wobbled and he started to sway.

  “Where’s the palace?” asked Henry. “Quick—or I’ll show you the whole thing.” He held the celery a little closer.

  “Aargh! Through the kitchen, up the stairs to level seven. Take the first door on your right, go down the passageway, and you’re practically in the throne room. Now will you put it away?” the guard whined.

  “That’s it? You’re not leaving anything out?”

  “No. I swear. Sometimes the wamu prowls around outside the throne room looking for crawling things to eat, but …”

  “What’s a wamu?” asked Richard suspiciously.

  “A lizard. Boobrik keeps it as a pet. He says it’s harmless.”

  “Thanks,” said Richard.

  “You’d better sit down on the floor,” Henry told the guard. As soon as he was sitting, Henry waved the celery stick—the whole thing—at him. “Sorry,” he said as the guard toppled over in a faint. He turned to Richard. “We’d better hurry,” he said.

  So they did. They raced through the kitchen to the stairs and up each flight as fast as they could go. There was a window on the sixth-level landing, showing a brown sky that was turning darker at the edges. Down below in a large courtyard a crowd of Graxians stood silently.

  “What are they doing down there?” panted Henry.

  “They’re waiting,” Richard panted back. “For Boobrik to release the XTC.”

  “Geez. I hope we’re not too late to stop him.”

  “Don’t say that,” said Richard. “Don’t even think it.”

  They sprinted up the last flight and burst through the door on their right. The second the door closed behind them they heard a loud, angry hiss. And then a giant green lizard sprang at them.

  Henry froze. Richard’s knees buckled and his eyes clamped shut. The next thing he knew, he was on the floor and a warm forked tongue was licking his forehead. He forced himself to open his eyes. A great big scaly lizard face was staring down at him. Its yellow eyes blinked slowly.

  “I think it likes you,” said Henry, who was standing as far away as he could get.

  Richard looked up. It sure seemed that way. If a giant lizard could look friendly, this was the way it would look. Almost as if it were smiling. The wamu began gently nuzzling Richard’s side.

  “Oh, no!” Henry shouted. “It’s got its nose in your pants pocket! It’s after the celery!”

  Richard slid away from the wamu—too late. The big lizard was busy chewing. A few pale-green strings hung from its mouth. It swished its tail.

  “Great!” Richard moaned. “How many sticks do we have left?”

  Henry reached into his pocket. “Two,” he said.

  “Let’s hope that’s enough to overpower thousands of Graxians,” said Richard. He stood up. A soggy wet lump rolled down his chest and started kicking him.

  “Where am I? Let me out of here!” came a familiar voice from underneath Richard’s shirt.

  Aric had finally thawed.

  Richard pulled the little alien out of his shirt. Aric was still cold, but at least he was bright pink again. He got to his feet, standing on Richard’s hand.

  “Aric—how are you?” asked Richard.

  “Fine, fine,” said Aric gruffly. He shivered and looked around. When he saw the wamu he flinched. “By the Great Kazook!” he exclaimed. “What’s that?”

  “Boobrik’s pet wamu,” said Richard. “Don’t worry. It’s friendly.” The wamu looked at Aric, its yellow eyes large. Suddenly its tongue flicked out. Aric took a quick step backward.

  “Down, wamu!” said Henry. The lizard stood still, but its eyes stayed on Aric. “We’d better get out of here,” Henry said to Richard. “I think it thinks Aric is food. Remember how the guard said it feeds on little crawling things?”

  “Have some respect!” barked Aric. “You are referring to the commander of the Interspace Brigade, not an insect!”

  “I don’t think it can tell the difference,” said Richard.

  “Anyway, we really should get going,” said Henry.

  “Going? Going where?” asked Aric.

  “To get the XTC,” said Richard. “Don’t you remember?”

  “I’m not sure,” said the alien. “I feel a little fuzzy.”

  Richard and Henry exchanged worried looks. “Aric,” said Richard, “we’re on Grax. We’re prisoners. Boobrik is probably looking for us right now. And he’ll probably do something horrible to us when he finds us.”

  “Boobrik!” Suddenly Aric looked a little more alert. “That slimeball froze me, didn’t he?”

  The boys nodded yes.

  “No wonder I cannot think straight,” said Aric. “My memory always goes when I am frozen. I will be fine in a few minutes.”

  “We don’t have a few minutes. We’re in kind of a hurry,” said Henry.

  “That’s the understatement of the century,” said Richard.

  “Okay. All right.” Aric’s eyes closed as if he was thinking very hard. At last he spoke. “I will make us invisible,” he said. “That way we can get to Boobrik without being seen. And it will be easy for us to escape with the XTC-1000.”

  “Great idea!” said Richard.

  “Thank you,” said Aric, looking pleased with himself.

  “Hey!” said Henry. “How come you didn’t do this before?”

  “It is very expensive,” said Aric. “It is used only as a last resort.”

  “You mean you risked our lives to save a few measly dollars?” Henry looked shocked.

  “The Brigade works on a very tight budget, young man,” said Aric sternly. “Every ten minutes of vanishing costs half a million daktils—that is $183.15 in your money. Unvanishing costs a lot too—$86.40. Remember that the Brigade is responsible for forty-seven million worlds. If we were not careful we would be broke in a week.”

  “And I thought my dad was cheap,” Henry muttered.

  “Can we please get started?” begged Richard. “We really don’t have time to stand around arguing.”

  “You are right,” said Aric. “Put me in your shirt pocket,” he told Richard. “Stay alert and stay together. Remember we will not be able to see one another. Or ourselves. And we will be invisible for only ten minutes. So speed is important. Listen for me in the throne room. I will be sending you my thoughts.”

  Richard and Henry got ready. On
ce they were holding hands Aric made a low humming sound that seemed to fill their heads. Richard and Henry found themselves humming, too. Then, as the wamu watched them with its bright yellow eyes, they all faded away into thin air.

  When Richard saw the inside of the throne room, he was really glad he was invisible. It was packed. Hundreds and hundreds of big Graxians were standing at attention, their eyes locked on the platform at the end of the room. It was piled high with a feast of desserts. There were cakes, cookies, tubs of chocolate pudding, heaps of candy bars, and other things Richard didn’t recognize. As they stared at it, many Graxians were drooling. It was not a pretty sight.

  “Prepare yourselves!” Aric’s voice sounded very loud as it boomed inside Richard’s head. “We must move up to the platform now.”

  Richard started pushing his way through the crowd. It wasn’t easy. The Graxians didn’t want to move, so he had to lean against them as hard as he could. And he had to do it holding Henry’s hand. After a few minutes Richard was sweating and panting. So was Henry—Richard could feel his hand getting damp.

  To make things even harder, the Graxians didn’t like being pushed. So some of them started snarling and shoving at each other as the boys passed. But they got very quiet the moment Boobrik walked out onto the platform. Count Wali Dood followed, carrying a square package tied with string. Richard’s heartbeat quickened when he saw it. The Graxians got excited, too. When Boobrik took the package from the count, the crowd sighed, drooled, and moved forward slightly.

  “My fellow Graxians—” Boobrik began.

  “Hurry!” Aric’s voice was tense. “If he makes a short speech, we are sunk.”

  Why did Graxians have to be so big and solid? wondered Richard. It was like squeezing through a room full of giant furniture. Giant, smelly, unfriendly furniture. He and Henry pushed a little harder.

  “This is a glorious day in the history of our planet,” Boobrik went on. “For when I release this precious element into the air, the Age of Woe will come to an end.” He held up the package so that everyone could see it. “Will cupcakes taste like sponges anymore?” he cried. “No! They will finally taste like cupcakes again. And will jellybeans still taste like erasers?”

 

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