Bruce Coville - 6th Grade Alien 07 - Too Many Aliens

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TOO MANY ALIENS

Illustrated by Tony Sansevero

Minstrel

book

Published by POCKET BOOKS

New YorkLondonTorontoSydney Singapore

CHAPTER

[TIM]

Waiting for Maktel

I am so scared. When Pleskit came to Earth, I never imagined I would end up being held in custody by

an alien court on a planet hundreds of light-years from home.

Home. Boy, it seems so far away. Heck, itis so far away.

I wonder if I'll ever see it again.

Our law-speaker—the one helping Pleskit, Linnsy, Maktel, and me—says we should not be too

worried. She says if we just write our statements, Judge Wingler will probably let us go. The

Interplanetary Trading Federation just needs the information.

Allthe information.

The judge is letting us work together. And he wants us to start at the beginning, which means I should

mention theoog-slama, and waiting for Maktel. He also wants us to be totally honest,

even about our emotions, which is a little like being totally naked, if you ask me. But

if that's what I have to do to get home—well, here goes . . .

"Mom!" I cried, running into the kitchen. "It moved! It moved!"

My mother turned off the blender and looked at me nervously. "What moved, Tim?"

"Theoog-slama!"

Anoog-slama is something like a cross between an egg and a cocoon, and it's one way

shapeshifters on Hevi-Hevi reproduce. When Pleskit's Veeblax had created an

oog-slama, Pleskit passed it on to me. If I could actually get theoog-slama to turn into a

Veeblax, not only would I finally have a pet of my own, I'd be the only kid on Earth

(besides Pleskit, of course) whose pet came from another planet!

What made this particularly nerve-racking was the fact that anoog-slama can take anywhere from

five days to fifteenyears to turn into a Veeblax! It's hard enough to wait for something

when you know how long it's going to take. It's even worse when you have no idea

when—or if— what you're waiting for will ever happen.

My mother followed me back to my room. We picked our way across the mess on the floor to my

desk, where I was keeping theoog-slama in a padded bowl. Next to it was the spray bottle I

was using to mist it several times a day.

Theoog-slama looked like a three-inch-long purple pickle. Pleskit told me that as a

Veeblax-to-be matures, the skin of anoog-slama will sometimes become transparent.

But as of right now the skin was still opaque, so I couldn't tell what (if anything) was

happening inside it. That was one reason I had been so excited to see it move.

Mom and I stared at it for a long time.

Nothing happened.

"Itdid move/' I said forlornly. "Honest. It twitched."

"That's all right, Tim," she said, putting her hand on my shoulder. "When I was pregnant with you,

sometimes I would feel you move. But when I tried to let your father feel it, you would stop, and might go

a whole day before you did it again." She smiled. "You were stubborn even before you were born."

I shrugged. "Yeah, I suppose so."

She looked at me suspiciously. "All right, Timbo, what's going on? You've been acting pretty glum for

the last couple of days."

"Nothing's wrong!" I said, a little too hastily.

She bent over so we were face to face. "Look me straight in the eyes and say that."

I couldn't do it, of course, and I was annoyed at her for trapping me like this. On the other hand,

something inside me felt like it was going to explode, so maybe it would be just as well to let it out. Trying

to sound casual, I shrugged and said, "I'm just a little worried about what will happen when Maktel gets

here."

She looked surprised. "Why would you be worried about that? I thought when it came to aliens, your

theory was 'the more the better.' "

Working to keep my voice from quavering, I said, "Mom, back on Hevi-Hevi Maktel was Pleskit's best

friend."

I hoped I wouldn't have to explain more, so I was relieved when I saw the light go on in her eyes. "Ah/'

she said softly. "And now Pleskit isyour best friend, and you don't know where you'll stand

when his old best friend shows up for a visit."

I nodded, which was easier than trying to get any more words past the lump growing in my throat.

Mom took a deep breath. "Well, I can see why you would be wondering about that, honey. But I'm sure

it will be fine."

"That's what mothers always say."

She made a face at me. "Have you talked to Pleskit about this?"

I looked at her as if she had lost her mind.

She pinched the top of her nose and sighed. "Tim,have you ever considered how weird it is

for someone who thinks communication technology is the most interesting thing in

the world to be so terrified by the idea of actually communicating?"

"You don't understand," I said.

"I never did," she replied, in a voice that let me know she was thinking of my father.

Words aren't the only way you can communicate.

She went back to her blender.

I sat down and stared at theoog-slama, trying not to think any more about Maktel's

upcoming visit.

Actually, part of me reallywas excited about Maktel coming. Alter all, I had been wanting

to meet him. But another part of me—a part that just wouldn't shut up—kept asking,

"Am I truly Pleskit's best friend, or have I just been a temporary stand-in for the

position?"

The question gnawed at my guts for the next two days. Friday afternoon, about an hour before Maktel

was scheduled to arrive, I decided desperate measures were called for.

So I went upstairs to discuss the matter with Linnsy.

Linnsyused to be my best friend. But then she outgrew me, both socially and

physically. We still get along okay, even if she does seem to think of me mostly as

the doofus two floors down. Oddly enough, we'd been getting along better since

Pleskit arrived. I think it's because we've had to cooperate in order to survive a

couple of times.

Anyway, Linnsy is very smart about social stuff, which is useful. Unfortunately, she doesn't have much

patience for mylack of smartness in that regard, so getting advice from her usually

means suffering through some nasty comments first—not to mention an occasional

"punchie-wunchie," which is what she calls it when she socks me on the biceps to let

me know I've said or done something particularly dorky.

I was prepared for all that.

What I wasn't prepared for was what I saw on her desk, which filled me with cold horror.

CHAPTER

[MAKTEL]

Departure for Earth

Well I, for one, am glad that Judge Wingler has asked the four of us to write down everything that led to

the mess the galactic media are now calling "The Earth-Based Catastrophe that Nearly Ended Life as We

Know It." For one thing, it will prove that I was right to be suspicious.

Of course, it means I will also have to admit to some of the foolish things I did. But if that is what it takes

to get out of here and back to Hevi-Hevi, I am willing to do so.

Actually, for me the story starts on Hevi-Hevi—or just above it, in a little shuttle craft:

"Well, there it is, Maktel," said the Motherly One happily. "The ship that will carry you to Earth."

I stared through the window of our shuttle craft at the battered old freighter hanging in orbit above

Hevi-Hevi. "But it's so ... soworn out!" I said in dismay.

The Motherly One laughed, which I thought a rather cruel response. "The look of a ship will not

necessarily tell you how well it works, Maktel. And the truth is, we didn't have many ships to choose

from. After all, the Earth sector is hardly the kind of place major shippers find all that enticing—though if

Meenom's mission is successful, that may change."

(For anyone not familiar with the details of theEarth mission, Meenom Ventrah is the

Trader/Diplomat who currently holds the franchise on theplanet. He is also Fatherly

One to my friend Pleskit.)

I gazed at the freighter again. I was tremendously excited about the fact that I would be traveling to

another planet on my own for the first time. I was also tremendously nervous. A somewhat less

well-worn vessel would have made me feel better about the trip, or at least my chances for surviving it.

"We were doubly lucky in finding this one/' continued the Motherly One cheerfully, "as there is another

passenger on board who is actually traveling right to Earth—a fact that reduces the fare considerably."

"Who is it?" I asked.

"The captain doesn't pass out that kind of information for free," said the Motherly One tartly. "However,

asyeeble is traveling openly, I assume it is a friend or business partner of Pleskit's

Fatherly One."

We had just docked at the side of the freighter. My feeling that the Motherly One was taking all this very

lightly changed when we gotinside. Suddenly she began to demon-strate uncharacteristic

nervousness.

"Oh, dear, Maktcl," she said, looking around at the shabby corridors. "I hope this vessel is safe. I don't

know if I can bear to let you go!"

I would have been startled, were I not so used to the Motherly One making sudden shifts of emotion for

tactical advantage. I only wished I knew who the tactic was intended for. And tactical or not, I felt that

the purple tears streaming out of her nose were inappropriate for a ranking member of the Hevi-Hevian

Trading Council.

She knelt to embrace me. "It is hard for me to let you go, my littlebliddki," she sobbed, her

sphen-gnut-ksher drooping so severely that the knob almost touched her head.

I saw one of the crew members—a tall, brown and orange being with four legs and more eyes than I

could count—staring at us. I felt a surge of shame. I did not want to be the laughingstock of the entire

crew for the duration of the trip—something I already feared because of my above-regulation level of

pudginess.

"I will be fine, Motherly One," I said, trying to squirm free of her embrace and hoping desperately that

she would not spend too much time weeping and wailing over my departure. Her carrying on was

stimulating my own fears, and I began to feel a surge of panic. So I was somewhat astonished when we

entered my cabin and her demeanor suddenly changed again. Wiping the tears from her nose, she sat on

the edge of my bunk, stared me straight in the face, and said calmly, "I have a task for you, Maktel."

"What is it, O Motherly One?" I asked, trying not to show my surprise. These sudden shifts were a way

she had of preparing me for life as a diplomat.

"I need you to deliver a message to Pleskit's Fatherly One."

"Why don't you just send it by Galactanet?" I asked. "It would be faster."

She glanced around suspiciously, as if she feared we were being spied on. "Any message sent by

electronic means can be captured and decoded. I want this to remain private."

Mysphen-gnut-ksher emitted the spicy smell of shock. "Motherly One! I hope you are

not contemplating a romance with Meenom Ventrah!"

It is hard to surprise the Motherly One. In this case I managed it. "Certainly not!" she cried. "This is

strictly business. Honestly, Maktel, you are the most suspicious childling I have ever met."

"I've been well trained," I replied.

The Motherly One could not say much in response, as she knew this to be true. She is an extremely

suspicious being. As if to change the subject, she reached into the pocket of her robe and pulled out a

packet offeebo beezbuds.

"Yum!" I cried, reaching for it.

She snatched the packet away from my eager fingers. "You will ignore the pudge-packing sweetness

inside here, Maktel," she said severely. "It is merely camouflage. The inside of this wrapper holds the

message I want you to deliver to Meenom. I felt it was safer to wait until we were in your cabin to pass it

on to you. Fewer spying eyes that way. I want you to pass it to Meenom the same way—incomplete

privacy. Is that clear?"

"Perfectly," I said, trying to hide my disappointment. The Motherly One does not like me to think about

food too much.

She handed me the package, then leaned to embrace me, hersphen-gnut-ksher tapping mine in a

Motherly One show of affection. "I shall miss you, my childling," she murmured

gently. "I hope you will have a good trip. When you distribute our gifts to Meenom's

staff, please also convey my best wishes to them."

Then she stood and strode from the room, leaving me as dazed, baffled, and amazed as I often am after

a serious talk with the Motherly One. I thought about running after her, but did not want to give the crew

anything further to tease me about. Besides, I knew her well enough to know that she was not going to

give me any additional information. So I just sat there, trying to make sense of our conversation.

From the window of my little cabin I could see the shuttle leave the ship, carrying the Motherly One

back toward the surface of Hevi-Hevi, which hung in its purple perfection against the black sky. I

pressed my fingers to the window, wondering what I had been thinking of when I asked to be allowed to

visit Earth on my own.

A short time later thebloop-bloop sounded, alerting everyone to prepare for leaving orbit. I

lay on my bunk until the brief surge of acceleration was over. According to our

schedule we would reach the firsturpelli in about half a ship's day. The trip through

would be brief, of course, even though it would catapult us more than a hundred

light-years from Hevi-Hevi. It would take eight ship's days, and sixurpelli leaps, for us

to reach Earth.

I thought about how good it would be to see Pleskit again. We share the bond common to all hatching

mates, and I had mourned deeply when his Fatherly One achieved diplomat status and began the travels

that took my friend from my side.

These thoughts slipped swiftly into nervousness about meeting his new friends, and concern about how I

would fit in during my brief visit. My greatest worry, of course, had to do with Pleskit's friendship with

the Earthboy Tim Tompkins. I had read with both excitement and jealousy the files Pleskit had sent me

detailing their adventures. But now I wondered:Am I still Pleskit's best friend, or is that now Tim's role?

And how will I get along with this Earthling he has grown so close to!

All this thinking made me hungry, so I decided to go to the galley for a snack. Before I left my cabin, I

opened one of my travel cases and carefully hid the Motherly One's secret message inside some

underwear.

When I reached the galley, I found another passenger already sitting there—an elegant-looking being

with blue skin and a beard of thick, writhing tentacles. He wore an ornate golden breastplate, a flowing

crimson cape, and a ring that marked him as a full member of the Interplanetary Trading Federation. His

headgear, which looked as if it were made of bronze, had a strange insignia on the front. A pair of

extensions attached just behind the insignia angled backward, then made a sharp joint so that they thrust

directly into his ears.

"Ah," he said when he saw me. "You must be the other passenger heading for Earth!"

Before I could respond, his headgear opened its eyes and said in a high, scratchy voice, "His name is

Maktel, as you would know if you had been paying attention when we spoke to the captain."

CHAPTER

[MAKTEL]

Ellicovec Bur

The tall, elegant Trader laughed when he saw how startled I was by the fact that his headgear was alive.

"Let us introduce ourselves," he said, rising to his feet. Making a sweeping bow, he said proudly, "We

are Ellicovec Bur."

I tried not to look too surprised. I had heard of thevecciri before, of course. But this was the

first time I had actually met one of these symbiotic duads.

The blue being extended his—their—hand for me to shake, saying, "I am the Ellico part of our selves."

This meant, of course, that the bronze-shelled creature attached to his head must be Bur.

Before I could say anything else, Ellico put their right hand in front of my face, wiggled their fingers, then

reached behind my ear and pulled out apoozlit. As they handed me the shiny coin, Bur said,

"We're glad to find we're not the only ones going to this sad backwater of a planet.

It will be good to have company."

"What is taking you to Earth?" I asked.

"Business," said the Ellico portion, returning to their seat.

Before they could say more, we were interrupted by a green waiter-bot rolling in with the Trader(s)'

order. It was served on a plate mounted on long legs that raised it to just beneath their chin. I understood

the reason for the legs when one of Ellicovec Bur's beard-tentacles reached out and grabbed

a pod off the plate. Two other tentacles pried the pod open. A fourth pulled out the

slimy nugget inside and popped it into Ellico's mouth. While he was chewing, Bur

took up the conversation.

"The ambassador and we went to school together. We have not seen him in manygrin-nugs, but he

contacted us recently in regard to an exciting business possibility—exporting

something called 'peanut butter,' which he thinks is going to cause quite a stir in the

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摘要：

TOOMANYALIENS IllustratedbyTonySansevero AMinstrelbookPublishedbyPOCKETBOOKSNewYorkLondonTorontoSydneySingapore CHAPTER1[TIM]WaitingforMaktelIamsoscared.WhenPleskitcametoEarth,IneverimaginedIwouldendupbeingheldincustodybyanaliencourtonaplanethundredsoflight-yearsfromhome.Home.Boy,itseemssofar...

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Bruce Coville - 6th Grade Alien 07 - Too Many Aliens

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