My Teacher Fried My Brains

  The second question was even more frightening. What would we do with all that intelligence if we ever did unleash it? Would we use it to make things better? Or would we just do the kinds of things we do right now, only faster? For example, would we figure out a way to save the rain forests, or just figure out new, improved ways to cut them down?

  Time is funny in a force field. I don’t know how long I floated there, worrying about Peter’s message, before Kreeblim came back. It could have been two hours or two weeks for all I knew, though considering how urgent she seemed to think things were, two hours was probably more likely.

  “All right, Duncan,” she said cheerfully. “It’s time you started to repay me for those brain enhancements you received. Let’s see if we can get this communication system to work.”

  For a moment I was terrified that she would read my mind and find out that Peter had contacted me. But as it turned out, she was too involved in her own project to worry about what was going on inside my head right then.

  She started by sitting on the floor. Well, that’s not really accurate. She didn’t sit so much as she made her legs shrink. Or maybe she pulled them up inside of her. Anyway, she didn’t bother with a chair. Once she was down, she put a little box between her feet and started to fiddle with some dials on the front of it.

  I felt a tingle in my brain.

  Kreeblim looked up. “That doesn’t hurt, does it?” she asked.

  It’s scary, I thought at her.

  “Most new experiences are,” she replied, flipping her nose. “You’ll get used to it. Ah, here we go. I’ve got contact!”

  She ignored me and turned all her attention to the communication box. She sat there, frowning and muttering. A couple of times her nose twitched around as if she was really angry.

  I thought it was pretty unfair that messages were being passed through my brain and I couldn’t find out what they were all about.

  After a while Kreeblim slammed the box shut and stood up—which is to say that her legs came back from wherever they had gone.

  What was that all about? I asked.

  “Private business,” she said. She sounded upset. Scooping up the poot, she went back down the stairs.

  I was getting a little sick of everyone else using my brain, though I would have been glad to have Peter to talk to again. At least, that was what I thought—until he actually showed up again.

  “Duncan,” came the voice in my head. “Is there anybody there?”

  Just you and me, I answered.

  “Good.” His image shimmered into my brain. He looked worried. “Listen, things are heating up out here. The aliens are planning something. I don’t know what, but it’s big. You have to get word to the government.”

  Well, how can I do that? Even if they would believe me, which is pretty doubtful, I’m stuck in the middle of a force field in Kreeblim’s attic!

  Suddenly I heard a step on the stairway. Being connected to my brain, Peter heard it, too. “Pretend I’m not here!” he said desperately. “I can’t be caught talking to you like this. I’ll try to hold on, but I’ll break the connection if I have to.”

  I understand, I told him.

  The footsteps reached the top of the stairs. I couldn’t see who was coming, because I couldn’t turn my head. But it didn’t sound like Kreeblim.

  Finally the intruder stepped in front of the force field.

  I couldn’t believe my eyes.

  What are you doing here? I thought.

  CHAPTER NINETEEN

  Playing the Field

  Looking nervous, the intruder walked over to the force field and placed her hands against it. “Hello, Duncan,” she said.

  Even though my body couldn’t move, my brain started to smile. If the breath of air I had taken after I climbed out of the dumpster was the best breath I ever took, Susan Simmons walking into that attic was the best sight I ever saw.

  What are you doing here? I thought again.

  “Looking for you, you goofball,” she replied. “After I found your note in my locker, I was sure that you hadn’t run away from home, no matter what anyone else said. So I started trying to track you down.”

  How did you find me so quickly?

  Susan gave me an odd look. “Duncan, I didn’t find you quickly. You’ve been gone for over three weeks. I’ve been working like crazy to figure out what happened to you. Almost got myself killed a couple of times in the process.”

  Three weeks! I think my brain did something that was a little like screaming, because she flinched back for a moment.

  Sorry! I said when she put her hands back on the force field. I didn’t mean to do that. But you really surprised me. I had no idea I had been in here so long. Can you get me out?

  At one time I would have been embarrassed to be rescued by a girl. But with my newly fried brain, I had examined the biomechanical structures of the male and the female, not to mention the underlying historical and economic situations that had led to our relative differences, and I had come to the conclusion that women are a tough bunch. So that was OK.

  Susan looked worried. “I don’t know how these things work, Duncan.”

  Great. I was found, but still lost, so to speak. At least, that was what I thought at first—until a voice whispered in my head, “I know how to turn the thing off. By the way, tell Susan I said hello.”

  “Peter!” cried Susan. “What are you doing here?” She looked around. “And where are you?”

  You can hear him? I asked in astonishment.

  “Of course I can. Where is he?”

  “I’m in space,” replied Peter.

  Susan looked startled. “Then how come I can hear you?” she asked.

  “I think it’s because we’re both connected to Duncan’s brain through the force field. How are you, anyway? I’ve missed you.”

  “I’m fine, Peter. How about you?”

  Sheesh! I was glad they were both here, but I was beginning to feel a little like my head was a hotel room. I hoped nobody else was going to show up right away. I mean, I could understand why Peter and Susan wanted to talk, but I didn’t particularly want them to use my head to do it.

  Fortunately, I didn’t have to complain too much. They both knew that we had to get busy.

  “Susan, see if you can spot anything that looks like a control panel somewhere nearby,” said Peter once they had finished greeting each other. “We’ve got to get Duncan out of this thing.”

  It’s over to your left, Susan, I thought, remembering when I had seen Kreeblim use it to begin with.

  Susan turned to look for it. “Got it!” she said after a moment.

  “Good,” said Peter. “Now describe it to me.”

  Unfortunately, Susan couldn’t hear him because she wasn’t touching the force field anymore. I guess she figured out what she ought to do anyway, because she rattled off a long list of the things she saw on the control panel, which seemed to consist more of points to push than the knobs, dials, and levers that we’re used to.

  I didn’t have to repeat what she said, since Peter could hear whatever I heard.

  When she was done he said, “Ask her if she can see a red spot in the second row of controls.”

  How?

  “Crud. I forgot she can’t hear you unless she touches the force field. Get her over here.”

  How? I repeated, feeling incredibly helpless.

  “What do I do now?” asked Susan. Then, realizing what the problem was, she came over to touch the force field again.

  Peter repeated the instruction about the red spot.

  Susan returned to the control panel. “Got it,” she said. “Do you want me to press it? Oh—” She trotted back over to the force field.

  “Yes,” said Peter before she could even repeat the question.

  She returned to the control panel again and did as he had told her. I waited eagerly for the force field to release me.

  Nothing happened.

  I wanted to cry, but of course my bod
y was having none of that.

  “Don’t worry, Duncan,” said Peter. “That wasn’t the release. We’re just getting started. This is going to take a few minutes.”

  “Nothing happened!” said Susan, putting her hands back on the force field.

  “Don’t worry,” repeated Peter. “This is a several-step process.”

  “How long is it going to take?” asked Susan nervously. “I don’t want to be here when Miss Karpou comes back!”

  Her real name is Kreeblim, I thought.

  “I don’t care if it’s Kleenex! I don’t want to be here. What next, Peter?” He gave her another instruction. For several minutes it went on that way, with Susan moving back and forth between the force field and the control panel while Peter told her what to do. I might as well have taken a nap for all the good I was doing.

  I began working an equation in my head to keep myself busy while the two of them fiddled with the force field. I got so involved with the math that I was a little surprised when I suddenly heard a soft zoooop and found myself sitting on the floor. I’d landed with a thump, but the pain in my rump was right up there with that breath of air and the sight of Susan for peak experiences. I was free at last!

  With the force field gone, I thought I was going to lose contact with Peter. But he was still there inside my brain.

  “Of course,” he said. “Your head is what we call wetware—an organic machine. At the moment you happen to be one of the most powerful communication devices in the galaxy, Duncan. Now listen, I’ve got some important stuff to tell you. There are big things happening up here, and you need to—oh, no!”

  The last words came as a shout of terror. Peter, what is it? I thought desperately. What’s going on?

  CHAPTER TWENTY

  Hearts and Minds

  I closed my eyes and concentrated with all my might. Peter! I thought desperately, casting my thoughts into space. Peter, where are you?

  No answer. He was gone.

  Susan grabbed my arm. “What is it?” she whispered. “What’s going on?”

  “I don’t know. Peter was there, then suddenly he got cut off. I’m afraid someone found him transmitting to us. He said there was something big going on, something he wanted me to warn the government about.”

  “What?”

  “I don’t know! He never got a chance to tell me.”

  Susan looked pale. “Do you think they’re getting ready to invade?” she said. Her voice was low, and hoarse with terror.

  “They’ve been considering it,” I said. “But whatever it is, we’ve got to get out of here. We’re not going to take a message to anyone if Kreeblim catches us.”

  “You’re right,” she said. “Let’s go.” Grabbing my hand, she headed for the attic stairs.

  I blinked. Susan Simmons had my hand. My heart did a little flip.

  Well, that was interesting information. It turns out a mighty brain is no protection against emotions. Down, boy, I thought to my heart. Right now we’ve got to get out of here.

  I followed Susan to the stairwell. “Is it day or night?” I whispered.

  “Night,” she said. “Miss Karpou is chaperoning a dance. I was supposed to go, but I figured this was the only time I would be able to get in here.”

  I decided not to ask her who she was supposed to have been going with. Instead, I said, “How did you know where I was?”

  She shrugged. “Detective work. I knew you were feeling bad—we weren’t treating you very well, for one thing. I also knew Miss Karpou was the one you were most likely to go to for a little sympathy, since you seemed to get along with her pretty well. I started to keep an eye on her; the more I watched, the more suspicious she seemed. Finally I decided it was time to come looking for you.”

  “Thanks,” I said. Then, feeling daring, I gave her hand a little squeeze.

  “Don’t mention it,” she whispered. “In fact, don’t mention anything until we get out of here.

  I nodded. We needed to stay alert if we were going to survive this.

  We moved down the stairs on tiptoe. Only one board creaked, but when it did I felt my stomach lurch with fear.

  We paused. No sound below us.

  When we came down into the second-floor hallway, I began to relax a little. We had both been worried that Kreeblim might have come back into the house while we were in the attic, but everything was dark down stairs. Unless she could see in the dark (which was a possibility, I guess), she hadn’t come back yet.

  We moved quickly and quietly down to the first floor. As Susan began to head for the door, I got an idea.

  “Wait!” I whispered.

  “What’s wrong?”

  “Listen, we need some proof that there’s another alien here if we’re going to get anyone to listen to us, right?”

  “You’re not kidding,” she said bitterly. “I tried to talk about it to a few people and they just wouldn’t hear me. Their attitude was, ‘That’s over, and we never want to have to think about it again.’ I can’t believe people can be so stupid.”

  “I can,” I said. “But I think I know where to find something that will make them believe us.”

  “Are you sure?” asked Susan. “These guys are pretty careful. I couldn’t find anything in Broxholm’s house to use as evidence.”

  “Broxholm didn’t have a pet!” I said. “Come on.”

  I had never had a chance to look around Kreeblim’s house, so I didn’t know where the kitchen was. But it didn’t take long to find it. If only she hadn’t taken Poot to school with her that day. . . .

  I tiptoed across the room to the refrigerator. The little light inside seemed like a beacon in the dark room.

  I stared inside. There it was!

  “What’s that?” asked Susan when I pulled out the Tupperware container.

  “If we’re lucky, it’s a poot.”

  I put the container on the counter and pulled off the lid to check what was inside. After all, there was no sense in escaping with some leftover Brussels sprouts.

  “Poot!” said the glowing blob of stuff inside. It sounded happy.

  “Jackpot!” I whispered.

  Susan drew back in fear. “What is it?” she asked.

  “It’s a poot,” I said, putting down my hand so that the slug could crawl up onto it.

  “That’s right,” said a voice from the other side of the room. “It’s a poot, and it belongs to me.”

  The kitchen light came on. I spun around in horror.

  Standing in the doorway, looking cute but very cranky, was Betty Lou Karpou.

  “Let us go, or the poot is toast!” I screamed.

  “Poot?” asked the slug, sounding frightened.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE

  Who Will Speak for the Earth?

  “You wouldn’t,” said the alien calmly. “I know you too well for that, Duncan. Remember, I’ve had a look inside your brain. You’re really much nicer than you think you are.”

  I hesitated. I didn’t know if I was really nice or not, but I wasn’t at all sure I could hurt the poot.

  Some hero, huh? The fate of the world is in my hands, and I can’t bring myself to squash a space slug. But I remembered how it had patted my cheek and told me not to worry. How could I hurt the little guy?

  “Poot?” it said again, sliding up my arm. Then it patted my cheek again. Nice Duncan, I heard in my head.

  I sighed. “I won’t hurt it,” I said.

  “That’s better,” said Kreeblim/Karpou. “Now, if you’ll give me a moment to get comfortable, we can talk about the future of your planet. I’d suggest you cooperate, because at the moment things don’t look too promising.”

  “Susan, run!” I shouted. “I’ll cover you.”

  “Duncan, don’t be silly,” said Kreeblim/Karpou with a sigh. “Use that magnificent brain of yours. You can’t get away from me and you know it. Now you’ll save us all a lot of trouble if you just stand still and listen.”

  As if to prove that was the case, she touc
hed a button on the edge of the counter. I heard a noise behind me. I turned in time to see a piece of clear material of some kind slide into place over the door.

  We were trapped.

  “Now if you’ll hold still, we can talk about this,” said Kreeblim/Karpou. “Let’s begin by dispensing with disguises.”

  Reaching up, she began to draw off her face. I could feel Susan tense up beside me. I didn’t blame her. Watching an alien strip off her face and let down her nose is a pretty revolting sight.

  “If you can’t stop judging people by their looks, you’ll never get along in the galaxy,” said Kreeblim sharply. “And no, I’m not reading your minds. Your faces tell quite clearly what you’re thinking. Now, upstairs. We have to talk, and I want to do it where I know we won’t be disturbed. Duncan, there is a chance that I will have to put you back in the force field. However, if I do—”

  I didn’t let her finish the sentence. “Noooo!” I shouted in horror.

  She continued right over my protest. “If I do, I promise it will only be for as long as it takes to run a few important communications. However, it may not be necessary.”

  “Why should I trust you?” I asked, ignoring the more obvious point that if she wanted to put me in the force field, there probably wasn’t a thing I could do about it.

  “Because I’m almost on your side,” she said.

  “What’s that supposed to mean?” asked Susan.

  “If you’ll come upstairs, I’ll tell you!” said Kreeblim impatiently.

  I looked at Susan. She nodded.