We handed her our smart phones. She planted a microchip inside each of them.
“This will enable you to contact me up to five-hundred-million light years away. However, you won’t be able to reach me when I’m in court. All electronic devices must be turned off inside the Halls of Universal Justice. Judge’s orders.”
“Why would you have to appear in court without me?” I asked.
“I have other cases.”
“What do you mean you’ve got other cases? Don’t you think this is important? Humankind is about to get evicted!”
“Giles, there are other species out there facing annihilation. I’ve got forty-four other cases.”
“Forty-four?” Nikki said.
“Don’t worry,” our lawyer assured us. “I love a heavy workload.”
“But will you have enough time for us?” Nikki asked.
“Of course I will. We just need to stay focused and take care of business.”
That made me nervous. Being focused was not exactly one of my strengths.
“Nikki, you go practice your violin,” Tula said. “Your brother and I have to go take care of something.”
“How can we clean Manhattan with a violin?” I asked.
“Just trust me,” Tula said.
Nikki scooted back up the ladder out of the briefcase into her bedroom.
Tula checked her watch. “Time to go, Giles. You and I have an appointment with Dr. Sprinkles.”
“Who’s that?”
Tula grinned. “You’ll see.”
I had to admit. My lawyer had a great smile.
She pressed a button on the side of her desk.
Suddenly we were standing on an asteroid. There was nothing on it except a glass slipper. I mean a really big glass slipper, longer than a football field, taller than a pine tree.
“Hey, Tula,” I said, “the lady who owns that shoe must have really big feet. I wouldn’t want to see one of her toenails.”
“Giles, that shoe isn’t for wearing.”
“Then what’s it for?”
“It’s a building,” Tula said.
She was right. It was a laboratory stuffed with machines, all pulsing and blinking inside the giant glass slipper. A golden flag billowed on top of the slipper-shaped lab. It read: THE ROYAL FEDERATION OF UNIVERSAL SCIENCE.
We walked up to the front door. Tula rang the bell.
A lady alien answered it. She was four feet tall. Her upper half was bloblike—not a giant blob, just a decent amount of gold jelly. Her round face, wedged in the middle of the jelly, had two big brown eyes like scoops of chocolate ice cream. She wore a blond wig and had pretty legs, which were obviously not real. I could see the bolts at the top. I don’t know if she was trying to impersonate a human to make me feel at home or if she had watched too many Marilyn Monroe movies. I think it was the movies because she kind of sounded like Marilyn too.
“Tula, darling. How wonderful to see you.” She gave me a pleasant blob smile. “You must be Giles.”
“That’s me.”
“Please allow me to introduce myself. I am Dr. Melissa Sprinkles.”
When she spoke, her ice cream eyes started melting. Was she crying? No, they weren’t tears. Her eyes were sliding down her face! So were her nose and mouth. Her entire face slid from the top of her body down to the middle. She was a dainty blob with blond hair and a moveable face. Aliens are hard to describe but that pretty much sums her up.
“Tula told me about your quest so I could assist you on your noble cause.” She led us inside. This blob wore black high heels that clattered on the marble floor.
I tripped over a shoebox.
“Watch your step, Giles,” warned Dr. Sprinkles.
That wasn’t easy. Shoeboxes were scattered all over the floor.
Dr. Sprinkles blushed. Her gold blobness turned flamingo colored. She straightened her wig. “As you can see, Giles, I have a thing for shoes. It’s a weakness of mine. Well, not really a weakness. More like a strength. You see, I think up most of my inventions when I’m out scouring the universe for bargains. I came up with this idea when I was buying a pair of red pumps just the other day.” She pressed a button on the wall. “Take a look, Giles.”
A hologram of Manhattan appeared on top of her desk. In the hologram, paper was being sucked up off the streets and turned back into trees.
Dr. Sprinkles grinned with deep alien pride. “A machine that transforms paper and paper by-products back into trees. The logging industry in reverse.”
“Whoa!” I got so excited I ran laps around her desk. “I can do it! I can do it! I can add five million leaves in one day!” I grabbed one of her stubby blob arms and shook it madly. It felt as if I was shaking hands with butterscotch pudding. “Dr. Sprinkles, the scientists on my planet are all pathetic compared to you.”
Her face headed north. Occasionally the left eye would go in one direction while the right eye followed the mouth and nose in another, but most of the time they all stuck together. “Giles, this technology is not as sophisticated as you might think. Your government could’ve come up with it long ago if they didn’t spend all their money building bombs.”
“Do you really think so?” I asked.
“Absolutely. This is all basic stuff. Take Big Daddy for example.”
“Who’s Big Daddy?”
“He’s your android.”
“I’ve got an android?”
“His specialty is cleaning dirty planets.” Dr. Sprinkles directed my attention back to the hologram. A street cleaner appeared, walking the streets of New York, wearing blue overalls, picking up bottles and cans. A perfect android disguise.
“Dr. Sprinkles,” I said, “I’m sure that’s one amazing android. But how can one droid clean the streets of Manhattan in twenty-four hours?”
“Good question, Giles. Your android is made out of recycled materials. He has the ability to reproduce.”
“What do you mean?” I said.
“He will go around the city, picking up glass and plastic along with paper and paper by-products. The glass and plastic will be melted down and absorbed directly into the android. When he has reached full capacity, he will split in half and create another android.”
In the hologram, Big Daddy went into a stall in the men’s room at Grand Central Station. A second later, two androids came out.
“That’s the coolest thing I’ve ever seen,” I said.
“Within two hours you’ll have an army of one thousand androids cleaning the streets of Manhattan, sucking up paper, turning it back into trees.” In the hologram, an android’s chest opened up. The machine that turns paper back into trees flew into it. The android closed up, hiding its precious secret. “Half the androids will be male, half female,” said Dr. Sprinkles.
“Will they all look the same?” I asked. “That might freak out some adults in New York City. They’ll know something’s up and we’ll automatically fail the test.”
“Don’t worry. They will vary in appearance according to the kind of recyclables their parent picked up. For example, if a droid picked up a plastic six-pack ring, its child will have curly hair.”
Her face spun figure eights around her body. You really had to stay focused when you were talking to her.
I gave her a high-five. “You know what, Doctor. If you can keep coming up with inventions like that, I say go buy some more shoes.”
“There aren’t any shoes left in this star system,” Tula said, rolling her eyes. “She bought them all.”
“Where did you get your shoes, Tula?” Dr. Sprinkles asked, eyeing my lawyer’s gold high-top sneakers.
“I forgot,” Tula said, trying to hide her feet.
“What size are they?” asked Dr. Sprinkles.
“They wouldn’t fit you,” Tula insisted.
“Let me try them on,” said the doctor.
“No,” Tula said with a small smile.
Dr. Sprinkles gave up and wrapped her stubby arms around Tula affectionately. Tula
nuzzled her blue face up against the doctor’s quivering consistency. You could tell they adored each other.
“Giles, your lawyer is an angel. She kept me from going to jail half a dozen times. You see, I have a tendency to be rather naughty.”
“That’s an understatement,” said Tula.
“I’ve been to New York a couple of times to conduct experiments,” said Dr. Sprinkles. “I was appalled by all the graffiti. If you want to pass the test then we’ll have to get rid of it.”
“How, Dr. Sprinkles?”
“With your flyplane.”
“What’s a flyplane?” I asked.
“It’s a miniature spacecraft shaped like the housefly common to your planet.”
In the hologram a housefly moving at supersonic speed, shooting a laserlike cleaning solution from its mouth, erased all the graffiti off an entire New York City building in thirty seconds.
“Dr. Sprinkles, I love it. But if it’s the size of a normal housefly how am I going to fit in it?”
“With your S/U.”
“What’s an S/U?” I asked.
“A shrinker/unshrinker.”
“You mean I’ll be able to shrink myself down?” I said.
“Of course you will,” she said.
I ran laps around the desk again. I gave Dr. Sprinkles another high-five.
“And, Giles, that’s only the beginning. I’ve got more surprises in store for you.”
Tula wasn’t quite as excited as I was.
“This is all amazing,” she said. But why are we only seeing holograms? Where’s the real thing?”
The doctor quivered terribly. “I’m not finished yet.”
“Dr. Sprinkles, you promised me they would be ready by tonight.”
“Now, Tula, it’s not my fault. I had a very busy day today.”
Tula frowned. “I know what that means. There was a shoe sale.”
“I do have one extraordinary contraption ready to go, Giles,” Dr. Sprinkles said guiltily.
“What is it?”
“Hey, Stanley,” Dr. Sprinkles hollered. “Get in here.”
A parking meter came rolling into the room.
“A parking meter?” Tula said, frowning.
“What does it do?” I asked.
“Well, it can move around and it can talk,” explained Dr. Sprinkles.
“What else does it do?” I said.
“Nothing really. It was an early invention of mine. But at least it’s finished.”
“That’s the lamest gadget I’ve ever seen in my life,” I muttered under my breath.
The parking meter spat a quarter at me and said, “Watch it, bozo.”
“When will the rest of the technology be completed, Dr. Sprinkles?” Tula asked. “Giles has only four days to prepare.”
“By tomorrow afternoon.”
“Are you sure?”
“I’m positive.” Dr. Sprinkles gave me a hug. “Giles, you’ll have everything you need.”
“I sure hope so,” I said.
“Don’t worry. You humans will be staying on Earth for another million years, I guarantee it. Now let’s have some fun. All the nearest shoe stores are closed by now. How about a party?”
“Now you’re talking,” said the parking meter.
“We don’t have time,” Tula said.
The doctor began texting madly on her cell phone. “Too late. I’ve already invited the guests. You have to stay. Giles can mingle with other citizens of the universe. He’s an ambassador for his planet.”
An ambassador and a superhero. Doesn’t having a flyplane qualify you to be a superhero?
(Hey, reader, if you know what the superhero qualifications are post them on my Facebook wall right away!)
CHAPTER NINE
DR. SPRINKLES TRIED to put on some lipstick for the party but her face kept moving around. It had a will of its own.
“If you don’t stop right now,” warned the doctor, “I’ll give up trying to put on makeup and you’ll look positively hideous.”
Her face stopped. It didn’t want to look positively hideous.
After she had prettied herself, Dr. Sprinkles pressed a button on the wall. The laboratory vanished and was replaced by a dozen mouth-watering buffet tables.
“Have something to eat, Giles,” she said.
“Thanks. I’m starving.” I dashed over to the closest table. The table had feet and ran to the other side of the room.
“Giles, not that buffet table,” said Dr. Sprinkles. “That’s specifically designed for people who are on a diet.”
All the pizza was on that table, so I wasn’t about to give up. This time I snuck up on it. Just as I was about to grab a slice, it took off running. This time it yelled, “No pepperoni for you, fat boy.”
“I can catch it, Giles,” said the parking meter, rolling frantically across the room. “Do you want me to catch it for you?”
“No, Stanley,” I said. “I don’t need your help.”
“OK,” said the parking meter sadly, giving up the chase.
Tula led me over to another buffet table. “As your lawyer, I strongly recommend that you tell your brother about the quest.”
“I’m not telling him anything. This is my secret.”
“Giles, a secret is like a caged lion,” Tula said. “Just because you’ve got it locked up inside your heart doesn’t mean it can’t reach it’s big old paw between the iron bars and scratch your eyes out.”
She walked away. I tried not to let it bum me out. She didn’t understand. If I told Bobby that meant either Toshi or Navida would have to get bumped off the team. I wanted them both.
I didn’t know what to do. With Nikki on board, I was allowed to tell only two other kids. I couldn’t tell Bobby, right? I sure hoped I was right. Not only was it the biggest decision of my entire life, it was maybe the most important decision in the history of humankind.
“Hey, Giles.” Stanley beckoned me over to a buffet table that contained a bowl of quarters. “Would you mind sprinkling some salt on them?” he asked ravenously.
I grabbed the salt shaker and sprinkled it on the quarters.
“The only thing that stinks about being a parking meter is that I don’t have arms.”
I could think of about five hundred other things that would stink about being a parking meter. But I didn’t tell Stanley that.
I fed him ten quarters. He groaned happily. “I love the taste of pocket change.”
The other bowl on the buffet table contained hundreds of tiny iridescent cars and trucks. I grabbed a little green truck and popped it in my mouth. It dissolved on my tongue into a jelly that was the single most scrumptious thing ever. “What is this stuff?” I asked.
“Traffic jam,” said Dr. Sprinkles.
I leaned over to examine the bowl. All the little cars and trucks were moving around, bumping into each other. I heard voices, angry voices muttering, “Hey, don’t cut in front of me,” and, “Who taught you how to drive?” and “Don’t be a backseat driver.”
I ate ten handfuls of it. It almost got my mind off my dilemma. Who should I pick for my team?
Toshi was a lock. He was my best friend. Your best friend is always part of your quest. It’s the golden rule of all adventures. OK, he did ballet. But so what? Toshi really wanted to be a professional hip-hop dancer. His mom was making him take ballet first.
Who knows? I thought to myself. His dance moves might come in handy.
Navida had her own eco-blog and worked on it tirelessly. At some critical point in the quest I might need someone to do some blogging. Navida was passionately committed to purifying the planet. No one would get more excited about cleaning Manhattan than Navida. She’d been waiting her whole life for a chance like this.
But then I pictured Bobby grabbing me by the neck on the cement dump of Desoleen after we’d been evicted. “I can’t believe you didn’t tell me about the test. If I had been in charge we never would’ve failed it.”
And my dad, who never y
elled, was yelling at me now. “You chose Navida over your own brother? Whatever happened to loyalty, Giles? You didn’t just betray your own family. You betrayed the entire human race.”
Millions of people trapped on Desoleen were glaring at me. A Kundabon circling overhead hissed at me, “Way to go, Giles. I knew I could count on you.”
I didn’t know what to do. I tried not to worry about it. Instead, I ate traffic jam.
Guests started showing up for the party. The first to arrive were half a dozen one-eyed thumb things. They looked exactly like giant thumbs with an eye in the middle. They were extremely polite. If anyone tells you one-eyed thumb things have bad manners, don’t believe them.
Then came the Upside Downers. There were two of them, a married couple. Their heads were down on the ground. Dozens of tiny caterpillar feet were attached to their skulls. That’s how they walked around. This seemed perfectly normal to them, as if I was the one who was wrong side up. Their faces lacked eyes and a mouth, so it was a waste of time to try and talk to them by staring at the floor. What you did, and it took some getting used to, was focus on their bare feet, which were sticking high in the air.
A bright green eye with long gold lashes peered out of each big toe. Their noses protruded from their ankles. They spoke out of a slit in their knees.
“Giles,” said Mrs. Upside Downer, “on our planet, an Upside Down mother will tell her child, ‘Your bedroom is too clean. Go mess it up.’”
“Sounds good to me,” I said.
“If you’re in perfect health, doctors will rush you to the emergency room,” said her husband.
“So if you’re ever on our planet and an ambulance comes by, act sick or they’ll put you on a stretcher,” she warned.
“Let me write that down,” I said, searching for a pen.
“Here’s the best thing of all, Giles,” said Mr. Upside Downer. “At Upside Down Junior High, if the teachers talk during class, the students make them stay after school.”
“That’s the way it should be,” I said.
Suddenly I had a wonderful thought. Now that I’m an ambassador, do I have to go to school anymore? The Upside-Downers caught a whiff of the traffic jam and made a beeline for it.
Dr. Sprinkles opened a bottle of wine for herself and the other adults, but instead of drinking it, she poured the entire bottle on a large potted planet in the corner.
You Can't Have My Planet Page 6
