Bruce Coville - 6th Grade Alien 06 - Don't Fry My Veeblax!

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DON'T FRY
MY VEEBLAX!
Illustrated by Tony Sansevero
A
Minstrel®
book
Published by POCKET BOOKS
New YorkLondonTorontoSydney Singapore
CHAPTER
1
[TIM]
The Flying Hamster
The whole mess with Pleskit's Veeblax got started because of Percy the Mad Poet.
Pleskit, of course, is the son of the ambassador from the planet Hevi-Hevi, and the first alien kid to go to
school on Earth. Or maybe not; though Pleskit is the first alien kid that everyone knows about, from what
he tells me there may have been others here in secret. Anyway, he's the only purple kidI ever met, and
the only kid in our school who comes to class with a bodyguard.
He's also my best friend.
And Percy? His full name is Percy Mortimer Canterfield, and he's this poet who comes to ourschool
every year to do a writing workshop with us. Why the school has to bring in someone special to teach us
about writing I'm not sure, since our teachers have us write all year anyway. But Percy has published a
couple of books, and as far as I can tell all he ever thinks about is writing, so I suppose he has some
useful tips. Besides, he's pretty cool. So I don't mind when he visits. In fact, I kind of like it. He makes
poetry more interesting than you would have thought possible.
When Jordan Lynch got put in our class two years ago and heard a poet named Percy was coming to
teach us writing for a week, the first words out of his mouth were, "Great. Five days with some skinny
sissy spouting off about flowers and bunnies and crap like that."
So it was pretty amusing to seeJordan 's face when Percy actually showed up.Sissy is not a word
you could safely use about this guy. He's tall, about six feet, and definitely looks like
he works out on a regular basis. He reminds me a little of Captain Lance Driscoll
fromTarbox Moon Warriors, except that his nose is slightly bent from where it was
broken in a fight.
Linnsy Vanderhof, my upstairs neighbor and former best friend (until she outgrew me), says she likes
Percy's broken nose because it keeps him from being a pretty boy. This brings up the only thing I don't
like about having Percy visit, namely that some of the girls get all goopy over him—including Linnsy, who
really ought to know better.
Anyway, when Percy came this year, he decided we should write poems about pets— which meant that
first we had to have a discussion about our pets. I sighed. Pets are a topic I personally find quite
distressing, mostly because I don't have one.
"That's all right," said Percy when I pointed this out to him. "You can write about one of the class pets
instead."
He was referring to our hamsters. We have three of the little beasts: Ronald Roundbutt, Doris the
Delightful, and Hubert Hugecheeks. Hubert got his name the day we all watched in horrified fascination
as he crammed so much food into his cheeks that we thought his head might explode. You should have
seen him! Anyway, I like the hamsters, but I don't have what you would call a close personal relationship
with any of them.
"I bet I've got the most unusual pet in the class," said Larrabe Hicks proudly.
I doubted this was true; it was far more likely that Pleskit's pet Veeblax was more unusual, since it was
the only one on the planet. Even so, I was interested to hear what Larrabe had.
So was Percy. "Why don't you tell us about it?" he said.
Larrabe beamed. "I have a woodchuck. His name is Harold."
"A woodchuck?" cried Jordan. "That's the craziest thing I ever heard!" He would have said more, but he
got laughing so hard that Brad Kent—who could be Jordan's personal pet, since he seems to look at
Jordan the way most dogs look at their masters—had to pound him on the back to stop him from
choking.
"Sounds pretty cool to me," said Percy. "Any chance you could bring him in?"
This was a typical Percy thing to do. He was always suggesting something that made our teachers groan
and roll their eyes. Only Ms. Weintraub didn't, because she is very cool, definitely the coolest teacher
we've ever had. She actually agreed that if it was okay with Larrabe's mother, Harold could spend the
week with us.
The next morning I got to school a little early, something that doesn't happen all that often. Pleskit and I
were talking about plans for the weekend (even though it was only Tuesday). His bodyguard, McNally,
who is sort of my hero, was standing a few feet away.
(My mother doesn't like me to call adults by their last names, since she thinks it's rude, but that's what
McNally prefers. "The name's McNally—just McNally" is the way he introduces himself. This has led
Shhh-foop, the embassy cook, to believe that his proper name is "Just McNally.")
As Pleskit and I talked, McNally's eyes were roving the classroom, checking everything out. At least,
that's my theory. I have no idea what his eyes were really doing, since I've never seen them. McNally
always wears dark sunglasses, even inside.
Suddenly he began to smile. "Well, I'll be danged," he muttered.
I turned toward where he was looking.
Larrabe had just come through the door. He was holding a leash. At the other end of the leash, strapped
into a leather harness, was a woodchuck!
Larrabe's mom walked in behind him, carrying a big metal cage.
"Told you I had a woodchuck," said Larrabe happily. He reached down and lifted the creature onto his
desk. "Meet Harold!"
Harold turned out to be pretty cute, in an oversized, rodenty sort of way. He was almost two feet long,
with short legs, thick fur, big black eyes, and a lot of blubber. ("Haroldloves to eat," explained
Larrabe. "It's one of his favorite things in life.")
Harold was amazingly tame for something you usually consider to be a wild animal and he sat on
Larrabe's desk without moving, even while the whole class clustered around to get a good look at him.
"I thought that kind of critter was called a groundhog," said Chris Mellblom.
"Woodchucks and groundhogs are just different names for the same animal," said Larrabe, rummaging in
his backpack.
"How much ground would a groundhog hog if a groundhog could hog ground?" muttered Jordan.
"They're also called whistle-pigs in some places," added Larrabe, continuing to rummage in his pack and
ignoring Jordan's comment. "Ah, here we go."
He pulled a carrot out of his pack and held it over Harold's head. Immediately the wood-chuck lurched
onto his hindquarters and began reaching for it.
"Ooooh, that's so-o-o-o cute!" cried about eight girls in unison.
Given how mellow the woodchuck was, who would have figured it would be such a disaster when he
met Hubert Hugecheeks? Actually, the problem was mostly on Hubert's side, since he was the one who
seemed to have a psychological meltdown when Misty Longacres brought him over to meet Harold.
Now this was a typical dippy Misty idea. I mean, a girl who has three cats ought to know that just
because something looks sweet and cuddly doesn't mean it won't have a vicious streak.
On the other hand, it's not like hamsters are normally cold-blooded killers or anything.
Anyway, Misty—who was probably getting annoyed because Harold was getting more attention than
she was—came running over to Larrabe's desk with Hubert cupped in her hands and said, "Look,
Hubie, here's a big brother for you!" Dumping him on the desk, she said, "Aren't they cute together?"
Hubert did not seem to think so. In fact, when Misty put him on the desk, he totally wigged out.
It was the first time I had ever seen a hamster hiss.
Harold reared back on his hind legs and made a shrill whistling sound.
People began to shout. Misty, realizing she had made a big mistake, reached down to grab Hubert.
Hubert, still gripped by his psychotic breakdown, sank his teeth into Misty's fingertip.
He must have bit in pretty deep, because when Misty screamed and yanked her hand into the air,
Hubert came with it.
He made it to about shoulder level before his teeth unhooked.
All the girls began to scream—well, I let out a little yelp, too—as Hubert hurtled toward the front wall of
the classroom and what looked to be a truly ugly death.
CHAPTER
2
[LINNSY]
Percy the Mad Poet
When I saw Hubert go flying through the air, I let out a little scream. When I remembered this later I was
a little annoyed at myself, because I don't want to be the kind of girl who makes those little screamy
noises. But really, the sight of that poor hamster heading for a collision that would splatter his guts across
the wall just dragged the sound out of me.
Then I saw that Percy the Mad Poet had climbed onto Ms. Weintraub's chair. He had on Jordan's
baseball glove, which he had confiscated the day before because Jordan kept putting it on Tim's head.
Thrusting his hand intothe air, Percy snatched the hurtling Hubert in mid-flight, swinging his arm down
gracefully so that he was cradling the hamster in front of him.
We all applauded. Well, all of us except Misty, who suddenly started to scream, "Rabies! I'm gonna get
rabies!"
Ms. Weintraub put an arm around her shoulder and said firmly, "Let's go to the nurse, dear. And no, you
arenot going to get rabies!"
The rest of us, who were used to this kind of thing from Misty, continued applauding.
"Thank you," said Percy, stepping down from the chair and taking a bow. "Thank you very much."
Holding out the glove, he walked around showing us Hubert so that we could see he was all right. The
little guy sat there, blinking and looking a little groggy, but otherwise none the worse for his adventure.
Is it any wonder we girls all thought Percy was so ... well,wonderful? Plus, I wish you could hear
the way that man could use words! "The night sky's velvet curtain" and "Captured
by spring's wild rapture" and "The cold caress of death's icy fingers." All I can say
is, I wish the boys in our class could talk half that well every once in a while.
After Ms. Weintraub got back from taking Misty to the nurse, she called the class to order, which wasn't
easy under the circumstances. "Misty is fine," she said. "There was a lot more blood than there was cut."
"Is she gonna get rabies?" asked Rafaella Cruz.
Ms. Weintraub sighed. "No, she isnot going to get rabies. Think for a second, Rafaella. If
Misty could get rabies from Hubert, then all of us would all have been in danger of
that every day. It's simply not a problem with domestic pets that are kept indoors, or
properly vaccinated."
"What about Harold?" asked Michael Wu. "Woodchucks aren't domestic. At least, not normally."
"We got him when he was just a pup," said Larrabe, putting a protective arm around Harold. "That's
what they call baby woodchucks, pups. And he's had his shots, just like a dog or cat. He's plenty safe.
Besides, he's not the one who bit Misty. It was that vicious hamster."
"Now listen," said Ms. Weintraub. "After what we've just seen, I'm certain you all realize that you have
to be careful when putting animals that aren't used to one another in the same place. Even so, I have a
suggestion that I think will be fun. Why don't we organize a pet show to go along with the collection of
poetry Mr. Canterfield is helping us put together? We could do it in the gym—that would give us plenty
of room to keep the pets apart. I think it would be a fun way to celebrate publishing our anthology!"
Everyone thought this was a wonderful idea. Well, almost everyone; Jordan, of course, thought it
"sucked"—though he didn't say that too loudly.
"I wonder if the Fatherly One will allow me to bring my Veeblax," said Pleskit.
"What's a Veeblax?" asked Larrabe.
"My pet shapeshifter," said Pleskit.
"Yeah, right," snorted Jordan.
"Pleskit's serious," said Tim.
"A serious nutcase," sneered Jordan.
"I've seen the Veeblax!" said Tim hotly. "It's totally cool. It can turn itself into all kinds of things. I even
taught it to do the Frankenstein walk."
"Can it imitate a nerd?" asked Jordan.
This burst of wit sent Brad Kent into gales of laughter.
"Look, Pleskit," continued Jordan. "You can say you've got anything you want in that flying saucer where
you live, and how would we know if it's true or not? The only person you ever let into the place is
nerdbutt here." (By "nerdbutt" he meant Tim, of course.) "I'll believe you've got a pet that can change
shape when I see it with my own eyes."
Pleskit didn't say anything. But he got a stubborn look on his face, and I had a feeling he was going to do
everything he could to bring the Veeblax to school, pet show or no pet show.
CHAPTER
3
[PLESKIT]
Wakkam Akkim
When McNally and I got back to the embassy that afternoon, I found most of the staff gathered around
the kitchen table.
"Where is the Fatherly One?" I asked, dumping my bookbag beside the door and climbing into my chair.
"I want to talk to him about taking the Veeblax to school."
"He's rather distracted right now," said Beezle Whompis.
Beezle Whompis is the Fatherly One's secretary. He only comes to the kitchen for companionship, since
he is an energy being and does not eat regular food.
"Distracted?" I asked nervously. "Is there some new problem?"
"No problem/' said Beezle Whompis, flickering briefly out of sight. (It's difficult for him to maintain a
physical form, and he only does it to make it easier for the rest of us to talk to him.) "Just an important
visitor expected."
"An off-worlder?" I asked excitedly.
"His newwakkam," said Ms. Buttsman, our protocol officer, and the only Earthling on
the staff besides McNally. "Whatever that is."
"Awakkam is what you Earthlings might call a 'guru,' " put in Barvgis, the Fatherly
One's slimeball assistant. (I don't meanslime-ball in the negative way that Earthlings use
the word. I just mean that Barvgis is nearly round and quite slimy. But he's also a
very pleasant being.) He belched contentedly, then added, "Actually, the more
precise translation would probably be 'spiritual massagemaster.' "
"Care for a snack, my little Pleskit-pie?" crooned Shhh-foop, sliding over to the table and twirling her
orange tentacles in excitement. "I have somepak-skwardles made just fresh for you."
"I'd love some!" I said.
"And some coffee for the handsome Just McNally?" sang Shhh-foop.
"Uh, sure, why not/' said McNally. He sighed as Shhh-foop slid happily back to the counter. Though she
offers coffee to McNally on a daily basis, our Queen of the Kitchen has not yet mastered the art of
making this Earthly beverage.
Barvgis picked a squirmer out of the bowl in front of him. Ignoring its tiny screams, he bit off its head.
Then he turned to me. Using full Hevi-Hevian speech, he said, "Thewakkam's complete and proper
name isWakkara Akkim <fruity smell> Elba [small fart of acceptance] Bonga. She is
considered a great adviser, and it is an honor for your Fatherly One to be accepted
as her student."
I was anxious to meet thewakkam myself, since I knew she would be a very important
person in the Fatherly One's life. Besides, it was quite possible she would be my
ownwakkam when I reached the age ofvershniffle. It also occurred to me that I might get
some advice from her about dealing with Jordan, or at least the feelings Jordan so
easily provokes in me.
"Just why is this, uh,wakkam considered a great adviser?" asked Ms. Buttsman.
"WakkamAkkim trained with a long line ofwakkams," said Barvgis, pulling the tail of a
squirmer from between his teeth.
Ms. Buttsman turned her head, looking as if she had just smelled something bad. But then, she almost
always looks that way. I do not think the world meets with Ms. Buttsman's approval.
Barvgis continued as if he had not noticed."Wakkam Akkim's immediate trainer wasWakkam
Garboola, who was the greatest peacemaker of his time.Wakkam Akkim herself
gained prominence when—"
Barvgis stopped, looking uncomfortable. The Fatherly One had just entered the room. This was
relatively unusual; he did not often sit in the kitchen with us.
"A snack for the high and lordly Meenom?" sang Shhh-foop, sliding eagerly to the table.
"Not now, thank you, Shhh-foop," said the Fatherly One. "Go on, all of you—don't let me interrupt you.
I just thought I would wait here until thewakkam arrived."
Despite his attempts to appear casual, I noticed the Fatherly One was making small farts of nervousness,
which is unusual for him.
It did not seem to be a good time to approach him about taking the Veeblax to school. Even so, I was
getting up my nerve to discuss the idea when the speaker above the door belched for our attention, then
said, "Transport pod approaching! Docking time will be three minutes and twenty-two seconds."
"Zgribnick!"cried the Fatherly One. "Thewakkam is almost here." He glanced around the
table. "Do I look all right?"
Ms. Buttsman reached out and straightened his collar, a gesture I thought was highly inappropriate.
"You look fine, sir," she said, in a nicer tone of voice than she has ever used with me.
"All right, everyone," said the Fatherly One. "Let us greet our visitor."
WakkamAkkim entered the embassy via a transport tube. She smiled when she saw us all standing
there. "Greetings!" she chirped. "I wish you love and understanding."
She walked to the Fatherly One. "Meenom Ventrah?" she asked, putting out a three-fingered hand.
"Your newplissinga," responded the Fatherly One, bowing his head in respect.
Thewakkam was fairly short, only about a head taller than me. She had a beakish nose
and tufts of blue feathers for eyebrows and hair. Her three-fingered hands were scaly
and ended in sharp claws. Her skin was yellow, her eyes round and dark black. She
wore a feathered robe, and a cape that was kept from the floor by tiny flying
creatures.
That was all interesting. But what I liked best was the humble, loving quality that seemed to radiate from
her. I quickly felt comfortable in her presence.
Unfortunately, she and the Fatherly One soon disappeared for a conference, and I realized I had not yet
摘要：

 DON'TFRYMYVEEBLAX!  IllustratedbyTonySanseveroAMinstrel®bookPublishedbyPOCKETBOOKSNewYorkLondonTorontoSydneySingapore        CHAPTER1[TIM]TheFlyingHamsterThewholemesswithPleskit'sVeeblaxgotstartedbecauseofPercytheMadPoet.Pleskit,ofcourse,isthesonoftheambassadorfromtheplanetHevi-Hevi,andthefirstalie...

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