George Brown and the Protector (19 page)

George didn’t respond. He wished that was all
he had to worry about. Naturally, he couldn’t tell the protector
that he was also worried about his own suspicions of him.

Rounding a corner, Emberly suddenly pointed
and said, “what’s that?” They saw an ice cream truck parked up the
street, with a group of children gathered around it.

“That’s an ice cream truck,” replied the
protector. “Do you want some?”

“Why would I want a truck?” answered Emberly.
“I can’t drive.”

The protector laughed. “Not the truck. The
ice cream. It’s a food that tastes good. Here, we’ll stop and try
some.”

The protector instructed Ant Number 4 to pull
over. As they got out, the protector asked George, “do you think
you have time? Has your mother tried to call?”

George quickly pulled his cell phone out of
his pocket. “No,” he said in surprise. “There are no messages. Ever
since she had the happy memory pill she hasn’t been as
protective.”

“That’s the after affect of the pill,” said
the protector. “It leaves a happy residue for awhile that makes the
person more friendly toward you.”

They had arrived at the truck. Emberly was
looking with fascination at the various ice creams the driver
sold.

“They sell bombs!” she exclaimed in wonder.
“Won’t they explode?”

George laughed. “Those are bomb pops,” he
said. “They’re popsicles, not real bombs.”

“And look at the funny people,” said Emberly,
pointing at the cartoon character ice creams. “Is it o.k. to eat
people? I’m not sure that’s polite.”

“It’s just ice cream shaped like people,” the
protector said with a smile. “Here, I’ll get us all some bomb
pops.”

The protector paid the money and gave them
their bomb pops. Emberly stared at hers for a moment, as if she
expected it to blow up in her face.

George unwrapped his popsicle, and stuck the
end in his mouth. “Try it,” he said to Emberly. “It’s good.”

Emberly unwrapped her bomb pop and took a
bite. Her face suddenly screwed up in horror and she threw it on
the ground.

“It’s cold!” she cried. “It’s freezing my
mouth.”

George wasn’t sure whether to laugh, or look
the other way. The ice cream vender was staring at them
curiously.

Gently the protector picked up the bomb pop.
“It’s just a frozen food,” he said. “It’s supposed to be cold. But
it’s still good to eat.”

“But the Grak are cold,” Emberly said simply.
But after a moment a smile came across her face. “Give it here,”
she demanded, taking her bomb pop from the protector.

“That one fell on the ground, and isn’t
clean,” said the protector. “Let me buy you another one.” However,
before he could do anything, Emberly took the bomb pop over to a
tree and smashed it into the tree trunk.

“There!” she said in triumph. “Now the tree
has had some cold food, and can make cold shade with its
leafs.”

The ice cream vender was staring at them as
if they had gone mad.

“Perhaps we’d better go,” the protector said
as discretely as he could. Silently the three headed back to the
Volkswagen. Emberly kept looking back over her shoulder with a big
smile on her face.

“That was polite, wasn’t it?” she said.
“Giving food to others is polite, just like Donna Tereza gave us
cookies.”

“I suppose so,” replied the protector.

Emberly stopped, looking puzzled. “Then why
didn’t the tree say ‘thank you?’”

The protector smiled. “Hop into the car,” he
said simply, opening the car door. “We’d better take George
home.”

The protector had been right about the after
affects of the happy memory pills. George’s mother didn’t seem
troubled at all that he hadn’t returned until early afternoon, even
though he hadn’t called to say he would be late. Janet was once
again beside herself, and tried to talk their mother into punishing
him. But their mother just smiled sweetly, and said she didn’t
think there was any need for that. Finally, Janet threw her hands
up in the air and went to her room to sulk.

After lunch, George called Jiu Na and told
her what had happened in Portugal. She greeted the news somberly,
especially when she heard of the attack by the Grak on Donna
Tereza. “You could be next,” she said in an ominous tone. “It could
happen anytime, and anywhere.”

“But it could happen to you too,” replied
George simply. “We don’t know what the Grak are up to, but it seems
to involve us and our fathers. Anything could happen at any
time!”

“I know,” said Jiu Na, her voice sick with
worry. “I can’t think of anything else these days, and I’m so jumpy
I don’t know what to do.”

Once again she warned him repeatedly to be
wary of the protector. She was especially troubled that he had
agreed to meet the protector again the next morning so they could
plan what to do next. George felt uncomfortable at her warnings,
but said little. He knew if he voiced his confusion about whether
the protector was for them or against them, Jiu Na would just
become more concerned and warn him even more strongly. Finally,
having little else to say, they ended the call—after Jiu Na made
him promise to call again the next morning, before he met the
protector. George knew the reason. She was going to try to talk him
out of going with the protector again.

The afternoon passed slowly. A brownish haze
seemed to settle in the air, which matched George’s mood. He was
restless and uneasy. He fretted in his room for awhile, went
outside and fretted some more, then came back to his room. Always
in his mind were worries and thoughts of the Grak and what they
were up to, of his father and how he was held prisoner, and of the
protector and whether he was friend or foe. The Uth stone in his
pocket felt so cold it seemed to pierce into George’s leg. He
finally left the pouch containing the stone on his dresser.

The evening was no better. Watching TV seemed
meaningless, and there was nothing else to do. George’s mother,
sensing that something was wrong, threatened again to take him to
the doctor. It was the first time George had seen Janet smile in
days.

Finally it was time for bed. After slowly
changing into his pajamas and turning out the light, George lay
staring at his ceiling for a long time.

What did it all mean? What was he to do? Who
was he to trust? Why were his father and the other two men being
held prisoner by the Grak? What was the protector’s role in all
this? What could George possibly do to get out of this mess? And
most of all, what did the Uth stone have to do with anything?

With heavy questions such as these preying on
his mind, George finally dropped off into a fitful sleep. Because
of this, he failed to notice when the pouch containing the Uth
stone on his dresser started to glow a short time later.

And then there was a sudden loud ‘pop!’ that
woke George with a start. Looking wildly all around, he was alarmed
to see the same Ziphon sitting on the edge of his bed.

“George Brown,” it said in its voice like
gravel, “the time has come. You must decide quickly, or all will be
lost!” Then it turned its head slowly toward the dresser, and spoke
again. “And you must make the same decision too.”

With another ‘pop!’ the Ziphon was gone.

CHAPTER 25: A Prisoner

George rubbed
his eyes, then got out of bed, continuing to stare at the spot
where the Ziphon had been a moment before.

Should he call Jiu Na, or Donna Tereza? Had
they had a visit from the Ziphon too?

Looking over at his dresser, George was
alarmed to see the pouch with the Uth stone glowing brightly. He
went over and picked it up. Staring inside, he saw the stone
glowing more brilliantly than he had ever seen it. He touched it,
and the heat nearly burned his finger.

George suddenly sensed something at his
window. Turning, he could see a glowing object on the grass a few
feet from his house. Going over to the window, he saw in amazement
what appeared to be another Uth stone, exactly like the one he was
holding!

George flung open the window, and leaned out
to look at it more closely. Incredibly, it was indeed another
stone, glowing with a pulsing light that George could sense was
matched by his own, which still lay in its pouch in his hand.

George was about to go through the window to
the new Uth stone, but suddenly hesitated. Was it a trap? How had
the Uth stone got there? Had it come with another fallen star? But
there was no star in sight.

Had the stone been brought by someone? Yet
the protector had said the Grak couldn’t touch the Uth stone.
Surely they couldn’t have brought it. George’s heart was pounding
in his throat. None of this made any sense!

Still unsure what to do, he slipped the ring
from his finger and put it in his ear. “Calling Jiu Na,” he said
firmly. There was no answer. “Calling Jiu Na!” he said again with
greater urgency. Why didn’t she answer? She had always responded
quickly before.

George’s mind was racing. The Ziphon had said
the time was now. Another Uth stone was outside, and his own Uth
stone was glowing. Something was clearly happening. Yet, George
still had no clue what he was supposed to do, and no idea regarding
what he could do to stop the Grak.

“Calling Jiu Na,” George repeated again,
firmly. Why didn’t she answer? With sudden inspiration, George
said, “Calling Donna Tereza.” Maybe at least she would respond. But
there was still no answer at all.

Should he try to call the protector? But if
he did, wouldn’t that play into the hands of the Grak? Indeed,
George realized with sudden horror, wasn’t that why Jiu Na and
Donna Tereza were not answering? They had all received their rings
from the protector, and if he was on the Grak’s side, then he
probably was controlling their communications. In fact, he suddenly
realized in horror that the Protector had probably listened in on
each of the conversations Jiu Na and he had had in which they had
talked about their suspicions of him!

A sudden shadow appeared to the left of the
window. Before George could pull back or do anything there was a
loud crack, and a whip darted inside the open window and curled
tightly around him, binding him fast.

“NO!” George cried in desperation. Before he
could do or say anything else, the whip was pulled tight and he was
jerked through the window, falling with a thud to the ground. Rough
hands grabbed him from behind and stuffed a gag in his mouth, and
also tied his hands and feet. He felt a wave of cold and despair
wash across him. He was turned roughly around and found himself
staring into the face of another Grak, smiling at him cruelly, its
foul breath nearly overpowering him.

Turning, George saw in shock that his father
was standing a short distance away, his head bowed in sadness.
Slowly his father walked over to the Uth stone, picked it up, and
put it in a small envelope he pulled from his pocket.

George’s eyes opened wide in wonder. His
father had brought an Uth stone! How did he get it, and why did he
have it? His father looked up at him with glazed, sad eyes. His
mouth moved, but no sound came out.

The Grak roughly picked George up and flung
him over its shoulder like a sack of potatoes. He saw another Grak
grab his father. Then the beasts started to move with amazing
speed, racing down the streets that led out of town and toward the
fallen star.

George tried to pound the Grak with his fists
and kick with his legs, but was bound so tightly that he could
hardly move. He tried to sing ‘Joy to the World,’ but with the gag
in his mouth he could do nothing more than choke.

A waive of despair flooded over him. This was
crazy. The whole thing was crazy. He was just a kid in California.
He couldn’t stop a race of intergalactic monsters. He should have
told the police or his mother or even Janet about what was going
on. And now, tonight, he had let himself be distracted when he saw
the other Uth stone, and had been easily captured. It had been no
trouble at all for the Grak to get him. And now, all was lost.
Whatever good he was supposed to do was clearly no longer
possible.

In panic, George saw that they had reached
the outskirts of town and were moving rapidly toward the field with
the fallen star. He struggled again, trying to work his way free,
but it was no use. He tried to cry out, but merely gagged on the
cloth that had been rammed in his mouth by the Grak.

Suddenly, George heard a voice in his
ear.

“George!” it said in a worried tone. “Are you
all right?”

George’s mind reeled. Where was the voice
coming from, and whose’ voice was it?

“George!” the voice repeated. “Answer me. Are
you all right?”

In shock George realized it was the voice of
the protector. The communication ring was still in his ear,
unnoticed by the Grak!

George tried to answer, but of course could
only gag and grunt.

“What’s that?” said the voice. “Did you say
something? Is anything happening?”

George grunted and coughed again.

“I can hear something,” said the protector.
“Can’t you answer? If something is preventing you from answering,
try to make three quick noises in a row.”

George did his best, although with the Grak
carrying him so roughly he nearly had the wind knocked out of him
with every step.

“You’re in trouble!” yelled the voice. “I’ll
be right there!”

George’s mind was reeling. Wasn’t the
protector in league with the Grak? But if so, why had he sounded so
desperate and worried, and then said he would come right away to
help? Had George been wrong about him after all?

The Grak carrying George abruptly stopped.
Twisting around, George could see that they were at the clearing
with the fallen star. At least a dozen Grak were there, smiling
cruelly. The creature which had carried him dumped him
unceremoniously on the ground. George tried to stand, but his
bindings held him fast. He could only struggle and grunt. The Grak
laughed, with a sound like ripping metal.