Si in Space (7 page)

YOU RAISE YOUR HAND.
Curiosity may have killed the cat, but it never did you any harm. “So, hey, Jack, I’m just wondering
 
—refresh this ole head of mine, will you? What’s the mission again?”

The teacher’s eyes come to life. He looks at you and nods. “Yeah, yeah, sure thing.”

The others are all looking at you too.

“Something I said? The man asked if we had questions.”

The teacher turns and presses something in the wall, then faces you again. “The mission. The great mission. Anybody want to tell our new friend here what the mission might be?”

“Infiltration,” one voice says.

“Assimilation,” another says.

“Disintegration,” a third person says. It’s the guy with the ponytail who answered the door when you knocked.

“Well, that sounds dandy,” you say. “Can I add indigestion to that? ’Cause, man, I ate these pickled eggs, and woo-ee.”

Nobody laughs. Nobody even smiles.

Then the door opens and three men walk in. They all look like pirates. You can’t help but let out a laugh as they approach you.

“Ahoy, me mateys!” you say.

They gather in front of you. The one you’d call Blackbeard
 
—since he’s got a long, braided black beard and the fluffiest of hats
 
—smiles back at you.

Then he cracks his elbow over your skull, and like that, it’s lights out, Jack.

Go here
.

SO YOU MADE IT.
You’re here. You’ve arrived.

You’re in a safe place. No free-fallin’ here, Jack, ’cause hey
 
—you’ve landed.

Did you bring your friends? And do they dance? Because if they don’t dance . . .

We can dance. And sing.

Hey
 
—nobody
made
you come here. This is dance hall days, baby! Come on, Jack. Get out on the dance floor.

Confused?

Maybe the lack of oxygen is making you hear strange sounds.

Maybe this is the most brilliant piece of prose and you have no idea what the meaning is behind it.

A black duck call entity in the deepest reaches of space?

What does it symbolize?

Two helmet-wearing danger lords ruling the darkest spaces out of reach?

Whom do they stand for?

And the jackalope?

Look behind the clues. The truth is out there.

Huh?

Seek, and ye shall find, Silas.

Wait, what?

Maybe you need more answers in this life. If so, then open the Bible, Jack.

Maybe you need more fun in your life. Then pour yourself a glass of tea and do what you do best.

Dance . . .

THE END

Or is it the beginning?
Go here
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BOTH YOU AND JOHN LUKE
decide to peer into the door slot. You see two figures with their backs toward you. They’re talking, but you can’t understand them. Their language is unfamiliar and sounds like some kind of animal howling. You start to say something, but John Luke puts up a hand and says, “Shhhh!”

Then he motions for you to watch.

From the back, they appear to be ordinary men. They’re wearing black outfits. You see a couple of helmets on a table nearby. One is silver and the other is gold.

“Mr. Mister?” you whisper to John Luke.

“The misters,” he whispers back.

“Any difference?”

“Shh.”

One of the men walks over to the side of the room you
can’t see. Then he comes into view again, and you see his face for the first time.

“What’s wrong with that dude?” John Luke whispers, jumping back from the horrifying sight.

“I don’t think that’s a dude. Guy must be an alien lizard in disguise or something.”

That said, you both start sprinting down the stairs. You can’t get away fast enough.

Who knew that space could be this terrifying.

Go here
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MISSION SPECIALIST WADE TURNEY
heads down the slope with you to investigate the spacecraft. One thing you can’t help wondering is what Wade’s “specialty” happens to be. Why don’t they call you a mission specialist too? Can he do magic tricks or speak like a ventriloquist? Like, seriously
 
—you want to know his special feature.

But you’re mainly just relieved you were able to keep John Luke from volunteering. It was touch and go for a while, but you finally convinced him by promising he could come along on the next scary, uncertain mission.

It doesn’t look like this spaceship’s been active for years. There’s a coating of grime and dirt on it. You and Wade examine the surface, trying to find a door in.

“Hey, you think the door is in the part that’s sunk into the ground?” you ask Wade.

“I’m not sure,” he says.

Some specialist you are. I give your specialty level a D minus, Jack.

You think the back of the spacecraft is what’s protruding from the ground, as if the ship crashed straight into the surface. But it didn’t explode. That’s the crazy thing. It resembles a dart stuck into a board.

“I found something.” Wade gestures to a panel on the ship’s side.

“You guys okay down there?” Commander Noble asks.

A doorway slides open.

“Yes, sir,” Wade says. “Think we just located an entryway.”

“Be careful.”

“Wish I had a gun,” you mutter.

It always feels better having a defense mechanism in your hands when you’re entering a strange, alien-like spaceship stranded on some lifeless moon full of odd-looking antlers.

Forget the Duckmen
 
—you need the Buckmen.

Wade points his powerful flashlight into the open doorway. Then he steps inside.

“What do you see?” Commander Noble asks right away.

“Nothing yet.”

You follow him in. You’d be feeling okay, except your space diaper is causing a bit of a wedgie, and it’s starting to really annoy you. But other than that, you’re doing great.

Of course, the skeletons you encounter on the ship don’t
really settle so well with your stomach. In one room, you find two of them sitting at a table as if they’re involved in the longest game of chess
ever
. You expect to find cobwebs or something around here, but yeah, this ain’t no haunted house. Haunted spacecrafts on Martian moons don’t get cobwebs. Just bones.

“Think those were humans?” you ask Wade.

“Check out that head. Does
that
look human?”

You squint closely at it. “Actually, no. That thing kinda looks like a jack-o’-lantern.”

“The skeletal remains of one.”

You both enter a room with several tables and chairs, like some kind of kitchen or dining area. No skeletons can be seen in here. Closed doors lead off in two different directions.

“How’s it look down there?” Commander Noble asks. “Does it appear to be dangerous?”

“‘Right into the Danger Zone,’” you start to sing.

“Oh, boy,” Wade sighs.

“You sound just like Willie.”

“I should be with you. Let me come down!” John Luke shouts over the radio.

“You stay there. We’ve got this,” you fire back, hoping you can keep him from striking out on his own.

“We discovered what are almost certainly the remains of a couple life-forms down here,” Wade reports. “Still checking out the ship.”

“So what do you say, Jack?” you ask him. “Which door?”

Wade shrugs. “You sound eager to choose. Go ahead.”

You shine your flashlight at one door and notice some markings on it. They look like scratches. Like some rabid animal was tearing at the door, trying to get in. Or maybe it was trying to escape. Or maybe it was just a lady with long fingernails who really wanted to leave this party?

The other door doesn’t have the markings on it.

“It’s probably smarter to open that door first, right?” You point to the door without the markings on it.

But maybe that’s what they
want
you to think.

Do you open the door without the scratches on it?
Go here
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Do you open the door with the scratches on it?
Go here
.