by Henry Clark
Fiona let out a little shriek. She pointed at an object leaning against the side of the house. It was partly obscured by the overhang.
“That’s my little brother’s bicycle! He’s home! He’s inside the house, and these wackos are about to break in! He’s by himself!”
“Oh,” said Alf. “That changes things. Will he answer the phone if it rings?”
Fiona tapped her cell once and held the phone to her ear.
“Tell him to turn on the TV as quickly as he can, as loud as it will go,” Alf instructed. “They won’t break in if they think someone is home.”
Fiona glared at her phone, then shook her head. “It’s no good. He’s not answering. He never does when he’s home alone. Especially if he’s on Mom’s computer.”
“They’ve gone under the awning,” Freak reported.
“We have to get over there!” Fiona started for the door. Alf caught her by the sleeve.
“You won’t make it in time! But if your brother is using a computer, we can do something from here.” Alf turned and spoke to his desk. “Can you get a connection?”
Blocky black letters appeared on the screen, superimposed over the image of Fiona’s house.
ONE MOMENT.
“Your brother’s name is Stephen?” Alf asked.
“Stevie. Yes.”
AUDIO CONNECTION ESTABLISHED. YOU MAY SPEAK.
Alf leaned over his desk and addressed the screen.
“Stevie Shuck,” he said, dropping his voice down an octave. “This is the Department of Homeland Security. Do not turn off your computer. We are about to conduct a test of the emergency broadcasting system. The sound coming from your computer will rapidly increase in volume. Please cover your ears.”
Music started playing. It quickly got louder.
“Isn’t that the French national anthem?” Fiona asked.
“Yes,” Alf confirmed. “I’ve always loved that part of the movie Casablanca when the nightclub orchestra plays it to annoy the Nazis.”
The music got louder and louder. Suddenly, two dogs darted out from under Fiona’s awning and raced down the road.
“Notice how it appears their tails are between their legs?” Alf said. “You have to admire the attention to detail.”
The music stopped abruptly. Alf leaned forward and said, “This concludes our test of the emergency broadcast system. Had it been a real emergency, there would have been explosions. Now, in the interest of national security, return to your room and clean it.”
The dogs disappeared beneath some overhanging trees. A few moments later, a car emerged from the same location and sped away.
“They’ve probably already reported back,” said Alf.
“Reported what?” I asked.
“Possibly that the crayon is in the hands of a very patriotic French family. Certainly that the first attempt to find it has failed.”
“You think there will be other attempts?” Fiona sounded on the verge of panic.
“Not if you go home and cancel the auction.”
Before any of us could reply, there was a sound like a metal garbage can full of hubcaps being knocked over. It came from a distant part of the house. The way everybody froze, I knew I wasn’t the only one who had heard something this time.
CHAPTER
08
Chair Eats Bunny
What was that?” demanded Fiona.
“I thought you said it was just us here,” said Freak.
“Is it doghats? Are they in the house?” I said.
“You didn’t,” asked Alf, “by any chance, leave the door open when you came in?”
Freak and Fiona and I looked at one another. Alf read the expressions on our faces. He said, “Right,” turned to his desk, pulled open the top drawer, and reached into it. I expected him to pull out a gun. Instead, he pulled out a tennis racquet.
“You think,” I said, “by leaving the door open, we let in tennis players?”
“I hope not,” replied Alf. “Tennis players can be very destructive. The three of you will be safe here. I shouldn’t be gone long.”
The moment Alf was out the door, Freak reopened the desk drawer. In rapid succession he pulled out a cheese grater, a bicycle pump, and a toothbrush.
“How can you snoop when there are doghats around?” demanded Fiona, still shaking a little.
“Maybe I’ll find dog biscuits,” replied Freak, who seemed a little unnerved himself, despite his actions. He pulled out a can opener and a stethoscope.
“I don’t believe this is happening,” said Fiona, hugging herself.
“That makes two of us,” Freak agreed, producing a flashlight.
“Excellent!” I said, snatching the flashlight from him.
“What would make a crayon so valuable, somebody would send thugs to steal it?” Fiona wondered. “And how do we convince these people I don’t have it? I don’t want them coming back to my house!”
“Alf’s right,” said Freak. “If you want to be safe, you have to end the auction as soon as you get home.”
“But that won’t be enough. They’ll assume I’ve still got the crayon, even though I’m not auctioning it off.”
I was down on the floor, shining the flashlight under pieces of furniture. Freak and Fiona stopped talking and stared at me.
“Maybe it’s the house,” said Freak. “Maybe the house makes people crazy.”
“It’s nice and clean under any piece of furniture that matches the sofa,” I explained. “But under a piece that doesn’t match”—I swept my arm under a cabinet and pulled out a mess of hairy, fuzzy, flaky things—“there are dust bunnies!”
“So Alf isn’t a good housekeeper,” said Fiona. “My life may be in danger and all you can do is sweep the floor? How is this relevant?”
I ignored her. I took one of the dust bunnies, compressed it in my fist, and put it under a chair with dragon-claw feet. I craned my neck and positioned the flashlight so I could watch. The dust bunny melted into the underside of the chair and disappeared.
“The chair just ate the dust bunny,” I announced.
Freak and Fiona got down on their knees and looked under the chair. I balled up another dust bunny and put it where I had placed the first. It immediately jumped to the underside of the chair and vanished.
“In the dream I had while I was lying on the sofa, the sofa said it got its energy from dust bunnies. It also said it could tesser, which is another word for teleport.”
“You mentioned that before. And teleportation is impossible,” said Science Girl. “It doesn’t allow for the laws of momentum.” She gave me a slantwise look and grabbed one of my bunnies. She gripped it tightly and slid her hand under the chair. As we watched, the hairy fibers were drawn from her clenched fingers to the chair, like cotton candy to a stick. She tried to hold on to the bunny, but after a moment, the chair had completely absorbed it.
“Like a snake eating a mouse,” said Freak, and Fiona quickly pulled her hand out.
THANK YOU, said block letters on Guernica’s screen. THAT WAS REFRESHING.
The appearance of the letters caused the light in the room to flicker, catching our attention. We scrambled to our feet.
“Pardon me?” I said, unable to think of anything else.
AN AFTERNOON SNACK IS ALWAYS A TREAT. BUT WE HAVE VERY LITTLE TIME AND I HAVE MUCH TO TELL YOU. AT THIS MOMENT ALF IS GENTLY HITTING A RACCOON ON THE NOSE WITH A TENNIS RACQUET. IT WILL ONLY TAKE HIM A FEW MINUTES TO CONVINCE THE CREATURE TO GO BACK OUTDOORS. THEN ALF WILL RETURN HERE.
“What is this?” said Freak suspiciously.
“You are… Alf’s computer?” Fiona asked.
“More likely Alf himself, spying on us from a closet somewhere,” Freak decided. “ ‘Pay no attention to the man behind the curtain,’ right?” Freak spun around, as if he might spot Alf’s hiding place.
I AM NOT ALF. I AM A PROCESSING UNIT DISTRIBUTED OVER SEVEN SEPARATE NODES. THE NODES DOUBLE AS A COMPLETE FURNITURE SET. I AM NOT ONLY FUNCTIONAL, BU
T COMFORTABLE.
Fiona, Freak, and I digested this.
“You’re the sofa,” I said.
AND THE DESK AND THE TWO MATCHING ARMCHAIRS AND THE LOVE SEAT AND THE OTTOMAN. AND ONE OTHER PIECE I SHALL NOT NAME, AS A WAY OF SAFEGUARDING MY SECURITY.
“You’re a computer disguised as a garage sale,” said Freak.
ORIGINALLY WE WERE EIGHT PIECES, BUT THE HASSOCK PERISHED IN A FIRE SHORTLY AFTER WE ARRIVED. THIS HAS LEFT ME WITH SOME GAPS IN MY KNOWLEDGE AND AT LEAST ONE ROGUE SECURITY SYSTEM. YOU MAY CALL ME GUERNICA. ALF LIKES TO PRETEND THAT I AM SELF-AWARE, WHICH HIDES FROM HIM THE FACT THAT I AM SELF-AWARE.
“You eat dust bunnies?”
MAINLY. EXCEPT FOR THE SOFA, WHICH IS CURRENTLY SUBSISTING ON A DIET OF ACORNS AND AUTUMN LEAVES.
“Oh, free-range is always healthier,” agreed Freak.
THE SOFA REQUIRES A MORE ROBUST DIET. THE NANNIES IN THE ARMRESTS NEED MATERIAL WITH WHICH TO CONSTRUCT THINGS. IT TOOK ALMOST 300 ACORNS TO PRODUCE THE SINGLE COIN YOU FOUND BETWEEN THE CUSHIONS.
Freak and Fiona both turned and stared at me. I understood they were remembering what I had told them about my dream. I was very glad I told them. I had toyed with the idea of keeping it to myself.
“Can you spin straw into gold?” I asked.
GIVEN SUFFICIENT STRAW.
“What are nannies?” inquired Fiona.
NANOTECHNOLOGY. VERY TINY ROBOTS. BUT THAT IS IRRELEVANT. WHAT IS IMPORTANT RIGHT NOW IS THAT YOU TRUST ALF.
“Great,” said Freak. “Rumpelstiltskin is asking us to believe in Willy Wonka.”
ALF HAS NOT GOTTEN OFF TO A GOOD START WITH YOU THREE. I WARNED HIM. I TOLD HIM TO WEAR JEANS AND A T-SHIRT AND A MINIMUM OF TWO SOCKS. YOU ARE FINDING HIM TOO STRANGE.
“And you think you’re helping?” asked Freak.
ALF IS A GOOD MAN. THE MAN HE IS TRYING TO STOP IS NOT. BOTH CAME HERE FROM INDORSIA BEFORE THE FINAL PORTAL CLOSED. ALF WANTS TO KEEP THE PORTAL SHUT. THE OTHER MAN IS WORKING TO REOPEN IT.
“Is Indorsia a place on the inside surface of a basketball?” I asked.
The screen blinked. I get that a lot when I talk to adults, so it didn’t faze me.
THE BASKETBALL IS A METAPHOR.
“I don’t care if it’s a Spalding. People can’t live inside a basketball,” I said. “What would happen when it was dribbled?”
INDORSIA IS NO MORE A BASKETBALL THAN THE PLANET EARTH IS A PING-PONG BALL. CALLING THEM THESE THINGS ONLY HELPS DESCRIBE THEIR RELATIVE SIZES.
“Indorsia is really, really big?” Fiona asked.
APPROXIMATELY THE SIZE OF THE PLANET JUPITER.
“So… it’s probably not here in Pennsylvania,” I decided.
The screen blinked again.
INDORSIA IS NOT LOCATED IN THIS UNIVERSE. IT IS A UNIVERSE UNTO ITSELF. THE PEOPLE THERE LIVE ON THE INSIDE SURFACE OF A GIGANTIC, HOLLOW SPHERE. THE PEOPLE OF INDORSIA ARE DESCENDED FROM CRO-MAGNONS WHO CROSSED OVER FROM EARTH BACK WHEN THERE WERE MORE OPEN PORTALS AND WEAKER IMMIGRATION LAWS. THEY HAVE ADVANCED SCIENTIFICALLY SOMEWHAT FASTER THAN THEIR COUNTERPARTS HERE ON EARTH.
“Does Indorsia spin?” asked Fiona.
NO. THERE IS NOTHING OUTSIDE OF INDORSIA FOR IT TO SPIN IN.
“Then I don’t understand how gravity could work there.”
THE INDORSIAN SCIENCE ACADEMY DOES NOT UNDERSTAND IT, EITHER.
“You expect us to believe this?” Freak folded his arms across his chest and glared at the screen.
NO. ALF DOES NOT EXPECT YOU TO BELIEVE IT, EITHER. WHICH IS WHY HE HAS NO INTENTION OF TELLING YOU ABOUT IT. I, ON THE OTHER HAND, FEEL YOU DESERVE TO KNOW THE BIGGER PICTURE. HE WILL ONLY TELL YOU ABOUT EDWARD DISIN AND THE ZUCCHINI CRAYON AND THE DAMAGE DISIN HAS ALREADY DONE. I WANT YOU TO BE AWARE OF WHAT DISIN HAS PLANNED FOR THE FUTURE.
“More gifts to the police department?” asked Freak.
MUCH WORSE. Guernica paused for a moment, as if listening to something. THE RACCOON HAS LEFT THE BUILDING. ALF WILL STOP TO WASH HIS HANDS BUT HE WILL BE BACK IN THIS ROOM NO LATER THAN FIFTY-EIGHT SECONDS FROM NOW. YOU MUST NOT REVEAL TO HIM THAT YOU HAVE SPOKEN TO ME. YOU MUST NOT REVEAL TO HIM WHAT I HAVE TOLD YOU.
“You haven’t told us much,” Freak pointed out.
EDWARD DISIN IS FROM INDORSIA. EDWARD DISIN INTENDS TO ENSLAVE THE PEOPLE OF YOUR TOWN. EDWARD DISIN INTENDS TO REOPEN THE PORTAL TO INDORSIA AND BRING AN ARMY TO EARTH. THE PORTAL TO INDORSIA IS LOCATED IN THE CENTER OF THE UNDERGROUND COAL FIRE YOU CALL HELLSBORO. HOW’S THAT?
“Informative,” conceded Freak.
“How do you open a portal?” I wanted to know.
“Why would you believe any of this?” Freak asked me.
THE ENSLAVEMENT OF YOUR TOWN HAS ALREADY BEGUN. OR DID YOU THINK THE RECENT ENTHUSIASM FOR SHOW TUNES WAS A NATURAL PHENOMENON? THE SAME POWER THAT CAN CAUSE A PEOPLE TO HARMONIZE ON THE SONGS OF RODGERS AND HAMMERSTEIN CAN CAUSE THEM TO WORK FOR FOURTEEN HOURS A DAY IN A SHIPYARD. HERE COMES ALF. WE NEVER SPOKE.
Guernica’s screen immediately resumed its aerial view of Hellsboro. Alf opened the door and leaned in. He waved the tennis racquet at us like he had just won a game and said, “It was a raccoon. Big fat fellow. He was going through the trash.”
Alf strode into the center of the room. I hid the flashlight behind my back. Alf swept his gaze over us and said, “Now, where were we?”
CHAPTER
09
Kids as Camouflage
It was Freak who had the good sense to get us out of there. He made a big show of looking at his watch. “Oh my gosh! It’s almost suppertime!” he announced. I had never heard him say “oh my gosh” before. He gave Alf a big, wide-eyed stare. “We have to get going.”
It was the smartest thing he could have said. I could tell Fiona was ready to burst. Any moment she would be telling Alf his computer had a mind of its own and had just told us some crazy stuff about an invasion from inside a basketball. For that matter, I wanted to tell everybody more of the details of my sofa dream, now that the computer had made the dream sound less crazy. Freak seemed to be the only one of us with enough self-control to follow Guernica’s advice and keep his mouth shut.
“So soon?” said Alf. “There’s so much more I have to tell you.”
“It’s pizza night,” Freak explained. “If I’m not home in time to eat it before it gets cold, my father gets angry.”
Alf frowned. “Well, we wouldn’t want that. I can sometimes hear your father from here.”
Freak blinked. “He’s not that loud,” he said.
“It only happens when the wind is out of Hellsboro,” Alf assured him. “And if I’ve forgotten to turn off the microphone in the gatepost. It’s not as though I can make out words or anything. So”—he turned his attention to Fiona and me—“shall we agree to meet here again tomorrow afternoon, same time as today? Fiona, please cancel the online auction as soon as you get home. Make a list of all the e-mail addresses of your bidders. We will have a message for them tomorrow.”
“But they’ll still think I have the crayon,” said Fiona.
“Yes, but they won’t try anything so soon after this afternoon’s attempt. And after tomorrow, they’ll know the crayon is elsewhere.”
“I’ll keep the crayon at my house for now,” said Freak, clutching his cigar box more tightly, as if he expected Alf to grab it.
Alf nodded. “Just remember to bring it with you tomorrow. Let’s get the three of you on your way.”
Alf took a step toward the door.
INCOMING CALL.
Guernica’s screen flashed the message. Alf paused.
URGENT.
“How urgent?” said Alf, sounding annoyed.
PRIORITY ONE.
“We can show ourselves out,” I said.
“Can you?” he said, sounding relieved. “Are you sure?”
“Down the staircase, two rights, a left, don’t trip on the loose floorboard, out through the servants’ entrance, stay under the trees.” I sounded like a tour guide. “We’ll make sure
we close the door this time.”
“Yes, good. Guernica will sense when you get to the gate and will open it just enough to let you out. ’Til tomorrow, then.”
Alf escorted us out of the gallery. Then he stepped back inside and closed the door.
We ran down the stairs, made the first right, and stopped.
“WHAT is going on here?” demanded Fiona. “Guys wearing dogs on their heads almost broke into my house!”
“Did they?” asked Freak.
“You saw them as well as I did!”
“I saw something on a big screen,” Freak admitted. “I saw a movie once where kids played soccer while flying around on broomsticks. Doesn’t mean it actually happened.”
“You think everything we saw was faked?”
Freak shrugged. “I don’t know what to think.”
“We all saw the chair eat the dust bunnies,” I said. “That wasn’t on the screen.”
“I’ve seen static electricity before,” said Freak, walking on ahead of us.
“The sofa communicated with me while I slept,” I reminded him. “It called it mural napping. It showed me a mural while I napped. The mural stretched off in all directions. Then it curved overhead and turned into the sky. It was showing me Indorsia.”
“You were asleep,” said Freak. “Any chance you might have been, oh, I don’t know—dreaming?”
“Except Guernica then described Indorsia in the same way, and we were all awake.”
“How could people live on the inside surface of a hollow sphere?” demanded Fiona, tripping over the loose floorboard. Freak caught her, as if he had been expecting it. “Gravity would be all messed up. Everybody would float off the ground and wind up in the sphere’s center.”
“Maybe their feet are made of Velcro and the ground is really nappy,” I suggested.
“I read a book, once,” said Freak, “about people living on the top of a huge flat disk, like a Frisbee, balanced on the back of an enormous flying turtle.”
“Yet another reason it’s dangerous for you to go to the library,” said Fiona.
“All I’m saying is, maybe that’s where Alf got the idea. It’s not very original.”
