Also, I had to go to the bathroom.
The docking beam pulled us into an area that had to be three times as long as a football field. The walls, which were about a thousand feet high, were lined with huge shelves. About half the shelf spaces were filled with spaceships.
None of the ships looked anything like Broxholm’s.
When we were about three quarters of the way across this space, the docking beam deposited us on a shelf.
Broxholm did one of his nose-sighs. “Time to face the music,” he said.
Given how much Broxholm hated music, that sounded worse coming from him than it would have from anyone else I had ever met. Or was it just his language implant, changing his words into a common English phrase?
I didn’t have time to ask, because the top of the ship flipped up, and we began to float into the air. About a meter above the ship, we started to drift in different directions.
“Broxholm!” I cried. “What’s going on?”
“We have to be disinfected,” he answered, as a hole opened in the wall in front of me.
I struggled, but it was like fighting with air. No matter how I twisted, the invisible beam held me in its grip. Feet first, flat on my back, floating a hundred feet above the floor of the docking area, I was pulled into a small white room shaped a little like an egg that’s been stood on end.
“Branna praxim pee-doongie prit,” said a musical voice.
I looked around—which didn’t take long, since the whole chamber wasn’t more than four feet wide. I couldn’t see whoever had spoken the words. I couldn’t even see a device that the words might have come from.
“Branna praxim pee-doongie prit,” repeated the voice gently.
A picture appeared on the wall. It showed an alien—one who looked completely different from Broxholm—standing in a room like this. As I watched, the alien took off its clothes.
I blinked in surprise. Then I remembered the last thing Broxholm had said to me: “We have to be disinfected.”
They wanted me to take off my clothes!
“Now just a ding-danged minute!” I said.
“Branna praxim pee-doongie prit,” said the voice again.
“Uh-uh. Sorry. I don’t do naked in front of strangers!”
Either whoever was speaking didn’t understand me, or didn’t care. A blue beam flashed down from the ceiling, locking me in place. It was a force field, just like the one Broxholm had used to keep Ms. Schwartz a prisoner. I tried to struggle, but I couldn’t even scream. Everything stops when you’re in a force field.
I heard the slightest of noises behind me. I tried to turn to see what had made it. I couldn’t, of course. The force field held me firm.
Suddenly I felt something tickle down my back.
What was going on?
I heard the same noise in front of me. From the wall came a tiny ray of light. A laser beam! Starting at my chin, the laser moved all the way down to my feet. I couldn’t see it all the way down, because I couldn’t bend my head. But I could feel that tickle. A few more tickles—down my arms, around my legs, and suddenly the force field disappeared.
I could move again! The only problem was, the instant I did, my clothes all fell off. The laser had sliced my shirt, my pants, my shoes and socks, even my underwear, into pieces—and had done it all without touching my skin.
“Get me out of here!” I yelled. “Get me some clothes!”
No answer.
Did that mean there wasn’t anyone there? Just as well, I decided, since I didn’t have any clothes on. But how long were the aliens going to leave me here? Or was someone watching me even now—watching, but not speaking?
That made sense, in a way. If the alien mission was to study earthlings, then probably they were doing that right now—especially since I was the only one they had.
I decided if I was going to be the sample earthling, I was going to do my best not to act like an idiot. So I began to take deep breaths. I felt myself getting a little calmer. I mean, it wasn’t like no one had ever seen me naked before. I’ve been to the doctor. And next year I would be taking showers in gym class.
Come to think of it, given my choice of getting stuck naked in front of a bunch of aliens, or in a seventh-grade gym class, I’d choose the aliens any day. At least they won’t flick your butt with a wet towel!
Unfortunately, just as I was getting calm, my little chamber started to fill with gas. Was this a test, to see if I would panic? Were they going to knock me out and do some medical exams?
Or were they going to kill me and dissect me?
I held my breath until my lungs were screaming for air. When I couldn’t resist any longer I took a deep, gasping breath.
“Prandit kooma,” said the same voice I had heard before.
Weird musiclike sounds began drifting into the chamber. As I felt myself begin to get drowsy, I heard a slight hiss and saw a purple mist filtering down from the ceiling. I wanted to hold my breath again, but I didn’t seem to have the will power.
The music played on. It wasn’t like anything you or I would recognize as music, but it was beautiful. My eyelids drooped. Soon I slumped against the side of the chamber and slid to the floor, naked and sound asleep.
CHAPTER FOUR
CrocDoc
When I opened my eyes again, I was lying on a table in a room that was filled with soft green light. I was still naked. A tall alien who looked a little bit like a human crocodile—or at least like a human crocodile would look if it was red instead of green—was standing over me.
“Feeling better?” asked the alien softly.
Actually, what it said was, “Klaakah greebratz?” But my brain heard it as “Feeling better?”
I sat up, got dizzy, and laid back down.
“What’s going on?” I whispered.
“I just did a little work on your head,” said the alien, as casually as if it was announcing it had gone to the corner for a loaf of bread. “I’m sorry I didn’t have a chance to explain the situation before I started, but I hadn’t been expecting you.”
“What did you do?” I asked, touching my head nervously.
“I installed a Universal Translator in your brain. That’s why you can understand me. From now on, you’ll be able to understand almost everyone you meet. We all wear them; it makes life quite a bit easier. As I said, I would have explained before I did the work, but there was no way to make you understand. The only being on board who had an implant that would turn his words into your language was Broxholm, and he was tied up.”
Did the alien mean Broxholm was busy? Or had they really tied him up, as punishment for letting some kids mess up his mission? With aliens, who knew?
“You can probably sit up now,” said the brain surgeon. “You just needed a moment to let your head clear.”
Moving slowly, I pushed myself to a sitting position.
“Where are my glasses?” I asked.
“Do you need them?” asked the crocodile person, sounding surprised. (I would say the crocodile man or the crocodile woman, but the truth is, I had no idea which—if either—it was.)
I looked around and blinked in astonishment. I had never seen things so clearly in my life, not even when I was wearing glasses. “What happened?” I cried.
“I thought as long as I was poking around inside your head I might as well fix your eyes.”
“Uh—thanks,” I said. I probably should have been more enthusiastic; after all, the alien had done me a real favor. But I still wasn’t comfortable with the idea that it had been poking around inside my skull without my permission.
On the other hand, being able to see so clearly without my glasses was wonderful!
“Thanks!” I said again, this time more sincere.
The red alien smiled—which meant that I got to see about three hundred and forty-two teeth—and said, “Don’t mention it.”
I heard a sound behind me. Turning, I saw another alien, though I couldn’t spot the door he had come in by. He was s
hort—probably not more than three feet tall—blue and bald. He had big eyes, a large nose, and a thick white mustache. He also had spindly arms and a potbelly. He was wearing nothing but a pair of baggy red shorts covered with pictures of jumping yellow fish.
I had seen aliens who were frightening, aliens who were strange, and aliens who were almost indescribable. This was the first one I had met who was cute.
“Greetings, Peter,” said the newcomer. “My name is Hoo-Lan.”
Actually, what he said was, “Grrgn ryxkzin, Peter, prrna-prrna Hoo-Lan.” But with my new implant I knew exactly what he meant.
His ears flapped as he spoke. To my surprise, I understood that this was his version of a smile—which meant that my language implant translated not only words, but gestures and expressions. When you think about how much of what you mean is carried not by your words, but by your body, that makes sense. It’s just not the kind of stuff they usually teach you in French class.
“How are you feeling?” he asked.
I thought about his question for a moment.
“I feel fine,” I said finally.
The blue alien gave me another ear flap. “I’m pleased to hear that,” he said, in his own language. “As you probably suspect, in addition to receiving a language implant, you have been disinfected. We had to disinfect both you and Broxholm before we could allow you to enter the main body of the ship. That was why he could not be with you when you had your operation, for which you have our apologies.”
I was a little surprised to hear him apologize. It was also nice to know that the reason no one had told me what was going on when I first got here was that they just couldn’t communicate with me yet.
“Can I stand up?” I asked, turning to the crocodile person.
“If you feel like it.”
When I stopped to think about it, I realized that I felt terrific. Had the croc/doc tinkered with the rest of my systems, too? I decided not to ask.
“You wouldn’t by any chance have some clothes I could wear, would you?” I asked.
Nose twitching, Hoo-Lan brought his hand from behind his back and tossed me a package wrapped in shiny black material. “I thought you might want these,” he said. “Especially since it’s time for us to visit the captain.”
The package contained my clothes, which were in perfect condition. “I don’t get it. I thought these had been lasered into pieces.”
“These are computer recreations,” said Hoo-Lan. “We put the disinfected scraps of what you had been wearing into the synthesizer. It analyzed fabric and design, then spit out a new set. These are identical to your originals, except that they are stain proof, and almost impossible to tear. If you wish, you can design your own clothes later.”
That was interesting. I had never cared much about clothes. But if I could just tell the computer what I wanted, it might be fun to try a few different styles!
Once I was dressed I turned to the CrocDoc, as I now thought of him, and thanked him again for what he had done.
He tapped his elbows together three times. According to my implant, this meant he was glad to have been of service, and he hoped that he would never have to eat my children.
Let me tell you, this multicultural stuff can keep a guy on his toes!
“Follow me,” said Hoo-Lan.
I nodded to CrocDoc, and got ready to follow Hoo-Lan out of the room. The only thing we needed now was a door.
The little alien walked to a place where the wall was marked by a large circle. Next to the circle were twelve rows of multicolored marbles. Hoo-Lan tapped six of the marbles, and the area inside the circle turned blue.
“Step through,” he said, gesturing toward the circle.
“Through the wall?” I asked nervously.
“It’s not a wall,” he replied, giving me a little shove. “It’s a transcendental elevator.”
“Hey!” I shouted, thinking I was going to smash my face against the circle.
To my surprise, I stepped right through the circle. As I did, my whole body began to tingle. The tingling got stronger and stronger. It reminded me of the “pins and needles” you get when your leg falls asleep. Only this was all over my body, and it kept getting stronger.
I wanted to shout, only I couldn’t, because I had no mouth. But then, I didn’t have hands, feet, or a head, either.
CHAPTER FIVE
The Crystal Captain
As quickly as it began, it was over, and I found myself—all of myself—standing in a room that looked like it had been carved out of the inside of a diamond. Hoo-Lan was next to me.
“What happened?” I whispered.
Hoo-Lan looked at me in surprise. “Did you feel something?”
I nodded. He frowned, which meant the same for him as it does for us. “You shouldn’t have,” he said. “We’ll have to look into this.”
“But what happened?” I repeated.
“The elevator took you apart and put you back together.”
“WHAT?”
“Don’t worry—the same thing happened to me. That’s how a transcendental elevator works; it breaks you into packets of energy, sends you to another place, then puts you back together.”
“Wouldn’t it be easier to walk?” I asked, patting myself in various places to make sure I was all there.
Hoo-Lan gave me his version of a shrug. “It’s over a hundred miles from the doctor’s room to the captain’s cabin.”
“Oh, well in that case, sure, just send my molecules,” I said, wondering if the sarcasm would translate.
“We did,” said Hoo-Lan, sounding quite serious. “And now it is time for us to meet the captain.”
A tinkle of music played around me. “Indeed it is,” translated my language implant.
I turned in a circle, trying to find the source of the sound. “Where did that come from?” I whispered.
Hoo-Lan gestured to a clear tank that stood at one end of the chamber.
“What is it?” I asked.
“The captain.”
“Come here, young earthling,” said the tank.
I glanced at Hoo-Lan. He nodded, so I crossed to the tank, which looked like a huge, round aquarium. Except there weren’t any fish or plants inside. A pair of cables ran from the bottom of the tank into the floor.
“Look more closely,” said the voice.
I stared into the tank. After a few seconds I saw a collection of crystals, sharp-edged and many-faceted. It took me a few more seconds to realize that the shapes were slowly moving.
“This is our captain,” said Hoo-Lan, adding a name for which there was no translation.
“But how . . . ?”
A sigh tinkled around me. “You carbon-based life forms are so molecular-centric. Until you meet another form of life, you seem convinced that carbon is the only way to grow.”
“Sorry,” I said. “I didn’t mean to offend you.”
The air around me filled with a sound like chimes; the implant told me this was laughter.
“Hoo-Lan,” sang the crystal captain, “I need only speak to Peter. You may leave if you wish.”
“I have things to do,” said Hoo-Lan, nodding to me. “I will see you soon.” As he turned and headed for the transcendental elevator the captain’s voice said, “You do realize, my young friend, that you have created a problem for us?”
I blinked. “What’s the problem?”
“In a word, you. By galactic law, no person of Earth is allowed on board this vessel.”
“I thought Broxholm was supposed to bring back five of us,” I said, feeling somewhat puzzled.
“For observation and analysis only. Any memory of the experience would have been erased from your minds before we returned you to Earth.”
“Did you ever wonder how we might feel about that?”
“Not particularly. If I had, it wouldn’t have mattered. Except for our fact-finding mission, the Interplanetary Council has banned all contact with the people of Earth. This is the first time in a tho
usand years this has happened, by the way.”
“You mean it’s the first time in a thousand years Earth has been isolated?” I asked, wondering if the aliens had visited a lot in the past.
“It’s the first time in a thousand years any planet has been isolated.”
I didn’t like the sound of that. “Should we be honored?” I asked, sounding more smart-alecky than I intended.
“Terrified might be more appropriate.”
“Terrified?” I squeaked. The very fact that the captain said I should react that way came close to creating the feeling in me.
The captain’s voice chimed around me, louder than before. “Earth is the greatest danger faced in the three thousand year history of the Interplanetary League. It appears to be a planet in the grip of mass insanity. We must find out why you kill each other with such reckless abandon.”
The language implant was translating what the captain sang into words. But the very sound of the music filled me with fear, and with sorrow.
The crystals in the bottom of the tank shifted. “There is something very strange about your world,” continued the captain. “On every other planet where science has developed, the process has taken much longer than it has on Earth. Always before, people ready to enter space have been civilized in a way you humans have avoided altogether.”
The captain paused, then sang sadly, “We fear if the people of Earth are allowed into space in their uncivilized state; the results could be disastrous beyond anything you can imagine.”
“Allowed?” I asked nervously.
“Allowed. At the moment, we are considering a permanent quarantine on Earth. No one gets on, no one gets off. We don’t mind you exploring your own solar system; there’s not much there anyway. But we cannot allow you to carry this sickness, whatever it is, into the galaxy at large.”
I wanted to cry; for years I had been dreaming of meeting people from another planet. When I finally do meet some, what do I find? My planet has embarrassed itself in front of the entire galaxy! I felt like an interstellar geek.
“Of course, quarantine is only one option,” said the captain, interrupting my thoughts.