by Jefferson Scott

Niddum checked his tracker. All seven search probes had almost moved off his screen, which meant they were more than 30 seconds away.

Niddum made his move. He accelerated his SJ-5000 spaceship around a tiny asteroid and headed straight for the control satellite. He wouldn’t need much time—just enough to plant the redirector and escape.

"Come on, come on," he said, his feet bouncing on the placticine floor. The lights in the ceiling panels started rattling, a sure sign that the SJ-5000 had reached maximum velocity. His home planet spread beneath him like a curved green carpet.

With one hand Niddum piloted the ship, and with the other he operated the controls to extend the redirector device on the ship’s robot arm. He activated a five-minute countdown.

"Hey, Niddly, we’re in trouble, Dude!" the ship’s computer voice said. Niddum had reprogrammed it so it sounded more like a friend than boring artificial intelligence.

Niddum spotted the red icon on his tracker, moving to intercept him. Where’d that come from?

"Clod," Niddum said, calling his computer, "turn on our ‘request directions’ signal."

Niddum eased back on his speed so quickly his lunch pack slid forward and smacked against the bulkhead, spilling flapples and triglicopops all over the cockpit.

Space Invader

The unmanned stealth probe looked like an ancient underwater diving helmet—thick metal with round grates. It hovered before Niddum’s SJ-5000, blocking his path. Niddum could see the control satellite sparking blue up ahead. He could almost feel the redirector ticking.

"Halt," the probe’s unamused computer voice said. "This is restricted space. Depart immediately."

Niddum looked at his status panel. "Clod, are you sending out that signal?"

"That’s a fact, Jack."

"Is this thing deaf? Why doesn’t it believe we’re lost?"

More red blips appeared on Niddum’s tracker, closing in on his location.

"Look," he said to the probe. "We’re trying to get to TrickLight, that new low-orbit amusement park. Can you give us directions?"

"This is restricted space," the probe answered. "Depart immediately."

Niddum rotated his ship slightly. The probe maneuvered to keep itself between the satellite and the SJ-5000’s nose. Sunlight glinted off two more specks in the distance—other probes getting into position. Niddum continued his turn until the satellite was centered in his rear monitor.

Now what?

Niddum retracted the robot arm and stopped the countdown. He accelerated toward open space.

"Wait! That’s it!"

He turned the driving over to Clod and went into the cargo hold to dig around. He returned with a silver device the size of a softball. He opened one of its side panels with a rotator tool.

Probing Questions

His radio hissed with a man’s voice. "…re you? Niddum, come in."

Niddum looked up. "Opeg?" He reached over to turn up the radio’s volume. "Opeg, is that you?"

"Hey, Kid," the voice said. "What are you doing out here?"

Niddum spotted his friend’s trawler ship on the tracker. "Oh, just getting away from it all."

"You sure that’s all?" Opeg’s voice was clearer now. "I mean, you wouldn’t be doing anything crazy, would you?"

"Crazy?"

"You know, like that plan you told me about to blast the whole planet with a xentric ray."

Niddum brought the redirector device inside the cockpit. He yanked the shielded gloves off the catch-wall and carried the redirector over to the softball-size device.

"Niddum?" Opeg called.

"Yes?"

"You haven’t answered my question."

"Sorry, Buddy. Just a little busy in here."

"Busy with what? I thought you were getting away from it all."

Niddum concentrated on securing the redirector to the little probe.

"Niddum," Opeg said, "What you’re trying to do is a good thing, it really is. But I’m telling you, this isn’t the way."

Niddum pulled off his gloves with his teeth. "Opeg, you’re my friend. I owe you my awakening. I mean, without you I’d still be one of the walking dead down there, with no idea that I don’t belong to this world. When you pointed that xentric ray at me, my eyes were totally opened."

"I know, Niddum. That’s why I—"

"I think about what would’ve happened to me if I’d lived my whole life without understanding the truth. Don’t you see, Opeg? I can’t just sit around and let those people go on without telling them there’s so much light to see and truth to know and love to find. They don’t belong to this world any more than I do. They just don’t know it."

"You’re right, but—"

"I’ve got the chance to wake them up, Opeg. If I redirect this control satellite, I redirect the whole Opremiac satellite network. One five-second burst of xentric and millions of people can come to the truth."

"But Niddum, it doesn’t work that w—"

Risky Maneuver

Niddum muted his radio. The redirector was firmly installed in his auto-probe. He reset the countdown to one minute, placed the probe in the exit chute and dumped it into space.

He accelerated away from Opeg’s trawler, straight toward the probes. With his spare hand he piloted his auto-probe closer to the control satellite. On his tracker he saw Opeg’s slower ship begin to pursue him.

The ceiling panels rattled violently as the red icons appeared on his screen.

Niddum saw the search probes between him and the satellite. He executed his best evasion combination, swerving toward the robotic craft then rolling away. The probes came in full pursuit.

Holding the controls with his knees, he turned his full attention to piloting his auto-probe, which was completely unnoticed. His chronometer showed 15 seconds left in the countdown. The little probe slipped past the only remaining search probe, too small to trigger any alarms.

"It’s getting hot, Dude," Clod said.

Niddum swerved the ship away from the atmosphere. The search probes were still on his tail. He switched his viewscreen to the auto-probe’s onboard camera for the final few ticks.

Careful, now . . . careful.

6 . . . 5 . . .

Every muscle in his body tensed.

4 . . . 3 . . .

The monitor went black as the auto-probe moved under the satellite’s shadow.

2 . . .

1.

Using the controller, Niddum attached the redirector to the control satellite.

Xentric rays are invisible, so there were no fireworks. But Niddum’s sensors registered the burst loud and clear.

"Yes!"

He steered the SJ-5000 in a leisurely course away from the satellite and in the general direction of TrickLight. As he gained distance, the search probes stopped pursuing him and returned to their stations.

He switched his screen to monitor the 17 all-news broadcasts from his planet.

Nothing.

Nothing about the xentric burst. Nothing about thousands of people reporting they’d suddenly awakened from a lifelong sleep. Just the usual wars and scandals. After the second set of commercials, one station finally ran something about it. Niddum pulled the picture of the news anchor to full screen.

"Officials at the Opremiac satellite network were briefly on heightened alert today. A malfunction caused the advanced weather control satellites to irradiate the entire planet with a five-second surge of xentric rays. The satellites use special rays to carry data, but this surge was somehow redirected and modified.

"An Opremiac spokesman said they have no idea what caused the surge. But xentric rays are completely harmless and diagnostics have shown that the satellites are completely operational. There will be no interruption in Opremiac weather management service.

"Now for the latest scores, here’s Yook Trewal."

A Better Way

Niddum switched off the broadcast. "Unbelievable."

"That was some stunt, Kid."

Niddum saw a trawler below him. "Oh, hi, Opeg. Did you see all that?"

"I saw. I have to say, it was a pretty good trick you pulled. I’m impressed."

Niddum blew through his lips. "But it didn’t work, Opeg! Nothing’s different. The news hardly even mentioned it. I expected jillions of people would be awakening. What went wrong?"

"Niddum," he began gently. "I tried to tell you. It doesn’t work that way. You can’t just zap everybody with xentric and expect them to wake up."

"But that’s how it happened with me!"

"Right, but your heart had been prepared. The things we talked about and the people in your life helped you to be ready to wake up. My xentric ray was just the last piece of it."

Niddum shut his eyes. "I made a big mistake, didn’t I? All those people are still asleep, and I broke the law even if no one caught me."

"I know. It wasn’t the best way, Niddum. What you did was dangerous—you risked your life."

"And all for nothing."

"Hey," Opeg said, "who said it was for nothing? Some people may be waking up down there right now."

"Really?"

"Yeah. And even if everyone who got irradiated today didn’t wake all the way up, you may have brought them one step closer."

"Wow."

"Come on, Kid. Let’s go home."

	Q: What does an invisible cat drink? A: Evaporated milk. Desi P., 10, Idaho Clubhouse Jr. Click here to subscribe