Si in Space (11 page)

SOME MIGHT SAY THIS IS GIVING UP.
Or giving in. But you’d call it both and then say see ya later and sayonara.

Hey, Jack, sometimes you gotta throw in the towel. Unless you just got out of the shower
 
—’cause in that case, keep the towel till you get some clothes on!

You decide it’ll be best to go home now, even if you have to be tucked into some more cybersleep. The crew members keep making arguments like
“Someone might be alive on the planet!”
and
“We owe it to them to examine the distress signal!”
and
“There’s danger in being put back to sleep too soon!”

But you care about priorities, not exclamation points. You know Willie and the boys cannot manage things on their own. Your family needs you. The whole world needs Uncle Si.

Yeah. It’s snoozy time for you.

So a few hours later you’re all back in your space suits. And
Commander Noble puts in the commands and gets everybody to fall unconscious one by one. This is like Thanksgiving after Miss Kay’s cooking when everybody is sprawled around and knocked out cold with bellies full.

You feel good about the decision you made. Your eyes begin shutting, and you assume when you open them again, you’ll be able to spot Earth outside the window. . . .

THE END

Start over.

Read “Look at the Stars: A Note from John Luke Robertson.”

IT'S A GOOD PLAN,
taking out the ships. You figure all those vessels you spotted in the hangar must be the ones that are going to attack Earth.

“Mission Control said they couldn't detect the ship we're on,” you tell John Luke. “Obviously they have some way of shielding themselves. Like a cloak thing. So you know what we do?”

“What?”

“Make them permanently invisible. And blow them up.”

You find what appear to be timer-controlled bombs in the weapons stash. And the strangest thing is that they look like six-packs of Diet Coke.

“I think I understand what they're trying to do,” John Luke says. “Everything they're doing
 
—the people, these
weapons
 
—they're hiding the truth. Nothing is what it appears to be. A teenager really isn't a teenager. A cowbell
 
—”

“Really isn't a cowbell,” you finish for him. “John Luke, you went out in space and got smarter.”

“Must be something in the air.”

“Let's each take a pack of Diet Coke,” you say. “We got some blowing up to do.”

Before you're able to get out of the armory, a woman in a pirate outfit walks into the room. You can't help but start to laugh, but then you control it.

“What are you two doing here?” she demands.

Oh, man. You know you can say only a few things. But you're betting only one response will be the right one. Isn't that how it usually goes?

Do you tell her you need these weapons for the mission?
Go here
.

Do you tell her you've heard reports that some of these weapons aren't working
 
—and that you're trying to fix them?
Go here
.

FIRST THINGS FIRST: FIND JOHN LUKE.

The astronauts are already captured, and you know they’re alive. Right now you need to get John Luke so the two of you can figure out a plan. Hey, two are better than one.

The room you left John Luke in is empty. The teenage boys’ briefing must be over too. They will know their assignments and how to infiltrate high schools on Earth. World domination. They might even plant brain-zapping software in smartphones that will make everyone dumb so the aliens can be in complete control!

Wait, maybe they’ve already done that!

You start to head down the hallway when you hear someone call your name. It’s John Luke.

“Over here,” he says, waving from a doorway.

For a second you give him a strange look as you enter the passageway he’s standing in.

“John Luke
 
—
why
are you dressed as a pirate?”

He closes the door behind you. “That’s what the soldiers are dressed as. Have you seen them?”

“I’ve seen a few, but I just thought
 
—”

“Yeah, it’s kinda crazy. But maybe that’s the fashion.”

“An army of pirates. Really?”

“Space pirates,” John Luke says. “Come on
 
—this is a walkway that leads to an armory. They took us in there after the meeting. It’s where I got the outfit. And . . .”

He holds up a triangular object in one hand and takes a drumstick
 
—not the chicken kind
 
—out of his back pocket. After further examination, you realize what John Luke is holding.

“Is that a cowbell?”

“Yes, but . . .”

“This ain’t no time for playing games. We got a world to save, Jack.”

“I know. Come on.”

John Luke rushes down the dimly lit passageway, which forks three ways. He chooses one of the routes, and it ends at a closed door.

“Stand back, Uncle Si,” he tells you.

Then he bangs a couple times on the cowbell. It doesn’t make any noise.

Instead the door in front of you blasts open. As if two laser beams tore through it.

“Whoa,” you say. “What’d you do?”

“This isn’t an ordinary cowbell. It’s a weapon of some kind.”

“It
looks
like a cowbell.”

And yeah, you know it, Jack. You can already picture it in your mind. You and John Luke on the battlefield, fighting off aliens, and you’ve run out of ammo. You call to John Luke, telling him you need more cowbell.

Yep. That’s right. A lot of good it will do you then.

John Luke opens the shredded door. He wasn’t kidding about the armory.

“There’s lots of different kinds of weapons in here,” he says. “We were going through the list in our class.”

You pull him to the side.

“Hey, you know what we’re dealin’ with, right?” You decide to speak only in a whisper for the next part.
“These people are planning to invade the US.”

“Not if they can’t get off this ship.”

“You have a plan?”

“Yeah. The big question is this: do we take out their ships or their leaders?”

Well, look at John Luke, all grown-up and acting like Alexander the Great. Or General Patton.

You think for a minute.

These are good questions from a man holding a magical cowbell in his hand.

Do you take out their ships?
Go here
.

Do you take out their leaders?
Go here
.

YOU CHOOSE CYBERSLEEP.
How do you know if you can trust that professor guy anyway? Hopefully everything will be better in the morning, like it usually is.

When you first enter cybersleep, you experience a wonderful, familiar sense of security. But a short time later, it feels like you’re bouncing around, and you wonder if you’re imagining the screams.

Then you wake up and realize you’re not.

As soon as you shake off your post-cybersleep confusion, you notice that John Luke is missing. The ship is violently jerking up and down, and you can hear voices down the hallway. After detaching yourself from your seat, you open the door and get a firsthand glimpse of the chaos that awaits you.

The professor or whoever it was
 
—a TV critic, Jack?
 
—happened to be right.

You see an awful, terrible, unspeakable thing
 
—it’s John Luke. He’s been infected.

Antlers are coming out of his head.

When he sees you, he attacks. And just like that, it’s over.

You should’ve known better.

You should’ve realized that when you’re in space and an alien jackalope gets involved, you don’t go on acting like everything’s fine and dandy.

Before your transformation, you experience your last thought as Silas Robertson:
I wonder what antlers will look like on my head.

You bet they’ll look pretty cool.

THE END

Start over.

Read “Look at the Stars: A Note from John Luke Robertson.”