***

  As school let out the librarian found Ricky and Fred still engrossed in their reading. "Boys, you should have gone back to your room with your class. School ended ten minutes ago. I hope you haven't missed your bus."

  Ricky looked up at her. "We did not ride a bus, we walked," he said.

  The librarian looked relieved. She leaned over and pulled The Black Stallion and a copy of Boys Life from the boys hands. "You better run back to your class and collect your things and go home. You can come back tomorrow and check these books out."

  "You mean we can come back tomorrow?" Fred asked.

  "As long as it's okay with your teacher," the librarian replied as she reshelved the books she had taken from Ricky and Fred. She then patted them affectionately on the shoulder as she led them to the door.

  When they were alone outside the library Ricky said, "Let us return to the practice battlefield and study their techniques."

  Fred nodded agreement. The boys began retracing their steps to the playground.

  As they exited the building they were greeted with a sight that almost caused their automatic self defence systems to engage. All across the field the earthlings were engaged in various degrees of physical activity. In separate groups of different sizes or alone the earthlings were in a constant state of motion. Fred suddenly realized that this was a practice battle. He and Ricky stood on the steps and recorded all that they could see. After a few minutes Fred commented to Ricky, "While I can see some of the individual group strategies, I can not understand how each group fits into the whole battle."

  Ricky did not turn his eyes from the playground. "I agree. It is obvious that this simulation is on more levels than we can comprehend. Keep recording so our masters will have enough data to evaluate.

  Fred returned his stare to the playground.

  Just then Tim spotted them. He shouted to Ricky and Fred, "Hey you guys! We're getting ready to go home. You wanna come?"

  Ricky and Fred shrugged their shoulders as they had seen done countless times that day and followed Tim. They found Zac, Chad, and Shawn on the other side of the school. Tim quickly formed them up into ranks and started off in a high step march. As they marched, Ricky and Fred recorded the boys songs of burning down the school and killing their teachers. The information they were gathering from these four was most valuable.

  The singing stopped at the same point along the walk that it started that morning. Tim turned to walk backward so he could face the others and talk. "When we get home, let me go in first. I'll talk to Mom and get her to let us invite you over. Then we can play some more." He saw Ricky and Fred shrug and nod.

  Mom was carrying a basket of laundry down the stairs when Tim walked in the door. She spoke up quick, before he could. "Don't say a word. The twins are finally asleep."

  "Please, Mom," he whispered. "We met these two new kids, Ricky and Fred, on the way to school. Can they come over and play?"

  "If it's all right with their mother, OK. But, you have to play in the backyard. And be quiet, if the twins wake up because you make too much noise, they'll have to go home."

  Tim looked delighted and ran outside, leaving Mom to wonder if he'd heard anything she'd said past OK. She heard the boys come tromping in, scoop up the fruit and graham crackers she'd left out for their snack, and the back door slam.

  She moved the laundry around, then carried the clean clothes to the family room to fold. She could see the boys outside, grouped by the swing set, in some kind of conference.

  Sally streaked naked through the room. Mom dropped everything and chased after her. She cornered Sally in Sally's room and was forcibly dressing her when she heard the boys come inside.

  Mom thought nothing of it. She finished dressing Sally, checked on the still sleeping twins and went downstairs.

  She found the boys huddled around the TV, apparently putting a DVD in the player. She began folding the clothes again. She was keeping her eye on them, however. Sally was trying to move through the crowded boys to make her way to the front. Mom wouldn't tolerate the boys hurting Sally.

  "No," Zac said. He began gently pushing Sally back.

  Sally howled. "I'm going to tell."

  "Sally," Mom said, dropping everything to come over. "The boys will have the video going in a minute. Don't push them."

  "Noooooo!" Sally screamed. "They're taking it apart."

  "WHAT?" Mom grabbed Zac by the shoulders, lifting him out of her way. She didn't have to move the other three, they ran for the other side of the room. She discovered two boys she didn't know huddled over the open DVD box, with a few pieces in their hands. She screamed at them. "What are you doing?"

  "We are making a blaster," Ricky said calmly.

  "Not in my house you don't," Mom said. "Give me all of that." She reached for the pieces and tools. She collected up the DVD box, pieces and tools, unplugged the DVD player and carried it to the dining room table. "You boys go outside and stay outside. This will never happen again, do you understand?"

  Tim, Chad, Zac and Shawn nodded their heads. Ricky and Fred did also, after a moment. Then they all went outside.

  Mom turned on a TV show for Sally. Then she finished folding the clothes. Then she sat at the table with the DVD player.

  She looked at the pieces for a moment. She was glad to find that it was not as bad as she had originally thought. She was able to begin putting it back together.

  Tim came inside. He looked humble and saintly. He quietly whispered, "Mom, can we play in our bedroom?"

  "Fine. But be quiet. Don't wake the twins," Mom said. She paid no attention as they walked quietly past. She slid the top back onto the DVD player and put the screws back in. Then she took it over to the TV stand and set it up again.

  She planned on testing it after she put the clothes away. As she carried the basket of clean clothes upstairs, she could hear the boys talking.

  "I don't know." Tim was talking. "I think you need special equipment for a laser beam. I'm not sure we could find that in the radio."

  Mom burst into their bedroom. She threw the laundry basket on the bunkbeds and hurried over to the dresser, where the boys were huddled. Where the boys' radio had sat.

  She grabbed up what remained of the radio. Shaking with rage, she whispered fiercely, "What in the world are you doing?"

  "Nothing."

  She couldn't tell who had said that, but she knew further inquiries would reveal that person was totally uninvolved with what was happening inches from them, in their room, with their stuff. In fact, no one present would admit to having anything to do with whatever-it-was that was going on.

  "Go outside." She managed to yell without raising her voice above a whisper. "Stay outside. Play nicely. Or ELSE."

  The boys quietly slunk outside.

  What could have gotten into them, Mom wondered as she put away the clothes. They were always loud, somewhat obnoxious, inclined to making messes. But so far they had never been destructive. It had to be those two new boys.

  She debated sending the new boys home as she came downstairs. They were all playing nicely in the backyard when she checked. Well, maybe their mother let them take things apart to see how they worked and they were just showing the others. Who knew why boys did anything?

  Sally's program had ended. Sally's clothes were draped on the chair. Sally was nowhere in sight.

  Mom decided to let it go for the moment. She turned off the TV and whipped up a quick casserole for dinner. As she was putting it in the oven, Sally ran through, heading upstairs. Mom set the timer, snatched up the clothes and followed her.

  During the battle the twins woke up. Mom carried them downstairs and barricaded them in the family room with Sally.

  Mom looked outside to see how the boys were getting along. They were nowhere in sight.

  She stepped outside. The thin, cold air brought sounds of the boys in the detached garage.
She couldn't make out what was being said, but precedent was enough to make her dash for the garage.

  Inside the boys were huddled around the front of her minivan. The hood was up and there was the clink of tools.

  She hurried forward to find the carburetor exposed. One of the new boys held a screwdriver over the vulnerable insides of her car. "That's it."

  She grabbed the two nearest boys, Shawn and Zac, by the back of the neck and propelled them toward the door. "I've had enough." Tim and Chad ran past before she could catch hold of them. All four paused in the doorway, to watch Mom kill the new guys.

  She grabbed Ricky and Fred, by the backs of their necks, and escorted them away from the car toward the door. "We don't do that here." In her anger she squeezed their necks. What she really wanted to do was throttle them, but she restrained herself. She did however allow herself to yell in their ears. "Now, go destroy your own home!"

  She gave them one last push towards the door, but it had no effect. She stepped away from them as they turned towards her. They looked the same as ever, calm and assured. However they suddenly locked arms and lifted off.

  Mom ducked away from the debris falling from the hole in the garage roof. As the dust settled the boys cautiously stepped into the garage.

  They ended up as a group staring up at the hole in the roof.

  "Awesome," said Shawn.

  "Whoa," said Zac.

  "No way," said Chad.

  "Incredible," said Tim.

  Mom was quiet for a moment more. Then she spoke up. "Who were those boys?"

  "Dunno, we met them on the way to school," Tim said, not taking his eyes away from the hole.

  "What were you playing?" Mom was strangely calm now.

  They were quiet for a moment.

  Shawn broke the silence. "We were playing space attackers."

  The boys all looked at each other. Suddenly, confession sounded good for the soul. "We were trying to make blasters. Yeah and laser rays. And we were going to fight off the invaders."

  Mom looked at them. They looked at her for something. Then they all looked back at the hole.

  A few more moments staring at the hole confirmed that it was definitely staying and Ricky and Fred weren't coming back.

  Just then Sally came running in. "The twins are loose, the twins are loose."

  For once Mom didn't react.

  Finally Mom sighed. "Come on. Lets go inside." They all headed for the house, slowly.

  "Uh, Mom," Tim said, "what are you going to tell Dad?"

  Mom looked at him surprised. "The truth, of course."

  "No way, Mom. Trust me on this one. He's not going to believe you. No matter what you tell him."

  "Timothy, we always tell the truth. No matter what," Mom said as she held the door open and automatically ticked them off as they went in.

  After the kids were all inside, Mom looked back doubtfully at the garage.

  A scream and a crash came from inside and Mom hurried in.

  ***

  The smell of smoke and dust crept into the conference room through the slightly-off doors.

  "But, what happened?" DIM Spacklewit demanded.

  Gleebzort, bandaged and still smoldering, coughed gently and tried again. "We are recovering what we can from the robots data banks. The exact events are still not clear. What is clear is that in less than one of their days they were able to detect, capture and reprogram our robots. It seems that we severely underestimated their capabilities. They apparently have weapons we were unaware, of with capabilities beyond ours." He was stopped by the pain in his midsection.

  IDIOT Mumblefarg asked, "You were able to retrieve some information from their data banks? This was not a useless attempt?"

  Gleebzort could not look at his ruler without the image of the robots intruding on his thoughts. When he had tried to stop them by invoking the name of their inestimable leader they had responded with human laughter, which he understood to indicate derision. The robots had stuck their rear ends out at a strange angle and chanted "Rumble Fart, Rumble Fart," for a few moments. The robots had also indicated that with such a leader there could be no success.

  Blunthorn waved his remaining breathing fringes as an underling should and answered in place of Gleebzort. "We can retrieve some information. Much is garbled and it will take much time to sort it."

  DIM Spacklewit perfumed the air with thoughtfulness. "Do you know which of their top scientists reprogrammed the robots. We must keep a watch on such people."

  Gleebzort pulled himself together. "They were reprogrammed by one person. A leader we had not considered to be much of a threat. A person named Mom."

  "One, just one?" DIM Spacklewit was incredulous.

  Finally IDIOT Mumblefarg answered hopefully. "Then we go to where this Mom has no power, no control. We can start from there and surround Mom, cut off Mom's base of power and win."

  Blunthorn added a negative fragrance. "We have checked our databanks. Mom has power all over the earth. Apparently Mom goes by different names in different places: Mom, Mother, Mama, Ma, Mommy, Mima, Marmee, and others. We are trying to discover the basis of Mom's power, but have not yet found it."

  IDIOT Mumblefarg was not about to have his perfumes negated by a simple underling. "Mom cannot last forever. All creatures die eventually. When Mom is dead and gone we will invade earth."

  *-*-*-*

  About the authors:

  Alan Lickiss was raised in the suburbs of Washington DC, where he met and married his wife Rebecca. He lives along the front range in Colorado with his wife, children, and an ever changing variety of pets the children just can't seem to live without. He is also an avid photographer. 

  Rebecca Lickiss has always been an avid reader, and began telling stories at an early age.  She received her BS degree in Physics from George Mason University, and her Masters in Physics from UCCS.  She now lives in Colorado with her husband and children, where she spends her free time reading and writing. 

  Connect with me online

  Homepage: https://www.lickiss.net

  Photography: https://cophotog.deviantart.com

  Site with some of Rebecca’s work: https://www.bookviewcafe.com

 
Thank you for reading books on BookFrom.Net

Share this book with friends

Alan Lickiss's Novels