Logan paddled in the direction the alien had fled. It was slow going, but eventually he came to one of the blue, translucent, elastic walls. It was springy to the touch. He pressed his face to it, straining to see what was on the other side, but saw only a slowly churning indigo murk, like blue ink, or deep space.
He groped about but could find no opening in the wall. Maybe the alien had opened it with high-frequency sound. Or maybe she had simply ultrasonically transported herself to another part of the ship.
Logan punched the wall in frustration, and his fist bounced back and slugged him in the stomach. He hollered, not in pain but in fury.
“Let me out of here! I’m
seeer
ious! You can’t keep me! This is kidnapping! It’s illegal! When the FBI finds out, you’ll go to jail! Probably for
life
!”
The dogs responded with a mournful chorus of howling and whining, which turned his anger at his predicament into indignation.
“How dare they steal our dogs,” he said, less wildly, his jaw set, his eyes narrowed. “How
dare
they!”
As he swam back to the dogs, he realized it was his duty to thwart the aliens’ plot. He must return the dogs safely to their grieving owners, and return himself to his mother, who was surely overcome with worry. She probably had sent out mass e-mails, and put up flyers of her own, ones that read
LOST BOY
instead of
LOST DOG
. She probably cried as she stapled them to telephone poles.
This image made Logan’s eyes tear up.
Some of the dogs rushed to his side, whimpering and pawing at him. The puppy, Nilla, licked his face.
“You don’t like it when I yell,” he said, “but you come when I cry.”
Others swam to him and licked his face, lapped up his tears, and raised his spirits. He giggled, which caused more to swarm him.
“And you really like it when I’m happy!” he said, laughing.
He had to get them home, back to Earth, but how? The only way he could think of was ultra-sonic transport, to return them the way they—and he—had come. But he had no idea how this beaming up and down, to and fro, was done, or how he could possibly perform such an otherworldly act. After all, he couldn’t make high-frequency sounds.
“
You
can, though,” he said to the dogs. “Maybe you can howl us back to Earth!”
He said this with such elation that the dogs went into fits of yipping and began wagging their hindquarters. They scuttled in close to Logan, and piled on him the best they could, considering they were afloat. It was during this aerial puppy rumpus that Logan saw Aggy’s dog.
“Come here, Festus!” Logan called.
The old beagle tried, but his feebleness prevented him from making any real progress. So Logan broke free of the swarm and dogpaddled to him. He hugged Festus around the neck, and the dog’s tongue flopped out of his mouth.
“I’m going to get you out of here, boy,” Logan said. “I promise.”
He would need help from someone who knew how the beaming was done, someone who could perform it.
Logan recalled how the alien had said she liked the dogs. She also said she “wouldn’t do that” when Logan asked her if she’d stolen dogs, too. He felt she did not condone the dognappings, nor his kidnapping, that she didn’t like what her boss was up to. She might be the ally he needed.
But he had screamed at her, frightened her away.
“Control your temper, Logan,” his mom often counseled him. Coached him. “Count to a hundred by twos. Alphabetize the aliens in
Star Wars.
That should take a while.”
Sometimes these strategies worked, and he did calm himself down, but, secretly, he didn’t like controlling his temper. He liked to let it rage, like a wildfire. He liked to bellow and roar, like a Wookiee. It made him feel strong and fierce. He disliked his mom’s attempts to calm him, to tame him, to make him be nice.
Still, he figured he’d better try to control his temper around the alien, to be calm and polite. Adults liked politeness. Especially women. They liked “thank you,” “no, thank you,” and “please.”
He felt his politeness had worked with the alien, too (maybe politeness was universal?), but then his outburst had undone all his work. He was going to have to keep a lid on his temper if he hoped to liberate himself and the dogs.
He was determined to succeed.
The female alien soon returned, this time gripping a small pouch in her flipper hand. The pouch was made of a material much like the walls and ceiling: translucent, blue, gelatinous. It looked to Logan like a jellyfish minus the tentacles; it inflated and deflated like one, too.
The alien swam around the dogs, using the pouch to collect their business (as Logan’s mom referred to it), both solid and liquid, which hung in the air in clumps or as glistening amber threads. She avoided swimming near Logan, or even glancing at him.
“Excuse me, ma’am,” he called to her.
Now she glanced, but only briefly, as she continued her work.
“I’m very sorry I shouted at you, ma’am,” Logan said. “It was very impolite of me. I hope you’ll forgive me. It’s just that I’m …” He didn’t relish completing the sentence, here or anywhere, whether he meant it or not, but he knew it would help his cause, so he said, “I’m scared.”
The alien paused in her work and turned toward him. Her long mouth curved downward for a change, in sympathy, exactly what Logan had hoped for.
“You see, I’ve never been kidnapped before,” he said, drooping his head forlornly. This act wasn’t difficult. It was how he truly felt. The trick actually was not to feel it too keenly, to avoid getting so sad and scared that he became angry and frustrated. “I miss my mom, and she’s probably worried sick.”
The alien flicked her flukes and, in an instant, was beside him.
“I understand,” she said, tentatively reaching out her silvery hands.
He wanted to be held, to be comforted, but not necessarily by an alien life-form. Nor by his jailer. Unsure of how she would react, he recoiled.
She withdrew her hands but did not leave.
“I miss my friends, too, and my dog, Bubba,” Logan said, steeling himself against his own words, speaking them but not letting their full meaning sink in, for he really did ache to see his friends, his dog, his mom, his brother….
“I would very much like to go home, please, ma’am,” he said.
The alien’s frown deepened and her eyes moistened.
The buoyant dog herd moved in, ready to help.
“Bubba’s my best friend,” Logan said. “I don’t know what I’ll do without her. Or what she’ll do without me. She needs me to feed her, and clean up after her, and love her, like you do for these dogs, the ones you’re holding captive.”
He wasn’t sure about that last part. He wanted her to empathize with him, and also to feel bad about her role in his predicament, but he didn’t want her to feel so guilty she would swim away again.
The alien’s throat light glowed at his words, translating them, but she did not respond. She sagged into a posture Logan recognized in humans. If it was the same for the alien’s kind, she was feeling ashamed.
Logan decided he had gotten his message across, and it was time to change the subject.
“Why does your boss ride in a wheelchair?”
Again the alien’s light lit, but she didn’t reply.
“Ma’am?” Logan asked, as if concerned.
She shook off her distressing thoughts. “It’s difficult for him to walk on your planet. Your air is thin, and your gravity, strong.”
“Did he steal the wheelchair, too?”
The female alien nodded.
“The woman he stole it from posted a flyer,” Logan said, building his case that her boss was a lowlife thief whom she should defy. Again this was not difficult to do, as it was what Logan really believed. “She offered a reward for it. She was old and couldn’t get around without it, but couldn’t afford a new one. They cost a lot of Earth money.”
The alien gave a little pout, which Logan viewed as a good sign. She cared about others, even people she had never met. That made her more likely to help him and the dogs.
“Where does he keep the wheelchair and clothes when he’s here?” Logan asked, adding, “I assume he stole the clothes as well….”
He was only assuming the boss alien returned to the ship periodically. Wouldn’t he want to check on things? Wasn’t that what bosses do? And wouldn’t he want to shed his clothes and his wheelchair, escape Earth’s atmosphere and gravity, and relax, as parents do when returning home from work?
“He hides them in a park,” the alien said. “Inside a cave, by the beach.”
Logan figured it was Ketchoklam Park. It was the only park in town with a beach.
“I see,” he said. “Does he come up from Earth every day?”
“We are on Earth,” the alien said.
“We
are
? Where?”
“Submerged in the bay beside your town.”
“Is that why we float?” Logan asked. “I thought we were weightless because we were in space.”
“We float because the ship is filled with air from our planet,” the alien explained. “Our air is heavier, which is why we don’t walk on the ground. We hover.”
“Interesting,” Logan said. “Yet me and the dogs can breathe it….”
“Yes. We didn’t know if that would be so, but when we brought the first dog here … ”
Her face darkened again, and Logan believed he knew why.
“That dog was lucky it could breathe your air,” Logan said.
“Yes,” the alien said distractedly. “Lucky.”
“Why don’t the authorities know you’re here?” Logan asked. He couldn’t fathom how the aliens could have landed a spaceship in Nelsonport without being picked up by radar, or lay submerged in the bay without being detected by sonar.
“We are able to neutralize your planet’s detection systems,” the alien said. “We are more sophisticated when it comes to waves.”
“Waves?”
“Sound waves. Radio waves. We’re very sensitive to them. And we interact with them differently than you.”
“Impressive,” Logan said.
The alien showed no pride. Her thoughts were plainly elsewhere, which pleased Logan. Her conscience was eating at her. Logan took advantage of this.
“I’m pretty hungry, ma’am,” he said, which was, also, conveniently true. “This is the time I would usually sit down to dinner with my mom and my little brother. He’s only one and seven-twelfths years old.” Logan nearly added, “I sure miss the little guy,” but sensed that would be going too far.
“I have a younger brother, too,” the alien said. “Back home. I miss him.”
“I’m sure you do,” Logan said.
It was good she had a family of her own. She could relate to his predicament. Plus, she would want to be heading home soon.
Logan laid his hand on the alien in the area where a human shoulder would be, ignoring the uneasiness he felt about coming into physical contact with a creature from another galaxy. There was no telling what diseases, for example, he might open himself up to. She tensed a bit but did not shrink away. She let him comfort her.
Logan smiled, feeling confident he was half-way home. But abruptly the alien pulled away. She opened her mouth wide, and her tongue tightened.
“Is something wrong, ma’am?” he asked. “What’s happening?”
She snapped her mouth shut. Her eyes showed dread. Her throat light glowed, and her humanoid voice intoned, “He’s coming.”
The boss alien materialized right in front of them. It happened quick as a blink. No one there; alien there. Like a camcorder trick: shoot the background; pause; have a friend move into the shot; unpause; stop; watch it back; friend materializes out of thin air.
Without his wheelchair and clothes, the boss alien did not seem old at all. He seemed young, strong, vital—and angry.
He chattered at his underling in a sharp, shrill voice that reminded Logan more of a chimpanzee than a dophin.
“I was busy,” the female alien said, her mouth, as usual not opening and shutting, her throat light glowing, “with the boy. Why did you send a boy here?”
Her boss shrieked louder and higher until his voice rose to such a pitch that Logan could no longer hear it. The alien’s beak, however, continued to clap.
“What are we going to do with him?” the female alien asked in reply.
Her boss got quite agitated at this, flapping his fins vigorously and getting right up in her face.
“Oh … I forgot … sorry …,” she said, then opened her mouth and tightened her tongue. The golden light went out. The remainder of their heated argument was conducted out of the range of Logan’s hearing.
The male alien continued clapping his beak in the female alien’s direction, until, as she did with Logan, she could take no more and swam off. She didn’t exit the chamber, though; she went back to scooping poop—her version of counting to a hundred by twos, Logan thought.
“Excuse me, sir,” Logan said to her boss.
The alien whirled on him, his broad mouth twisted in a grimace, his amber throat light glowing.
“What do you want?” he demanded. His English-speaking voice was the same as his assistant’s: the voice of the translating device, a monotone, machinelike voice.
“I’m sorry to bother you, sir,” Logan continued, trying to pretend he wasn’t terrified, “but I have a couple of questions.”
“Only a couple?” the alien asked.
“Are you guys fighting about me?” Logan asked.
The alien huffed through his blowhole the way a human would through its nostrils. It created turbulence in the blue, alien air over his head.
“I’m sorry, sir,” Logan said. “I don’t mean to cause trouble.”
“You don’t mean to cause trouble? Weren’t you, in fact, determined to cause trouble? Isn’t that what you were doing with your binoculars and camera and clipboard? Weren’t you trying to root out the dog thief, which, for some reason, you were convinced was from another planet?”
Hearing that the alien knew what he had been doing in such detail took Logan aback, but he tried not to show it.
“Yes, I was,” he said. “And I did root you out, sir. And you are from another planet, sir.”
“But you did not stop me, or rescue the dogs, did you? And you didn’t know that I was the thief. You were following someone else, the ‘hairy guy,’ who was completely innocent.”
Logan didn’t like admitting he was wrong, but he couldn’t deny it. “Yes, sir,” he said. “I was mistaken.”
“You also didn’t know the alien you were hunting could hear your private conversations from a considerable distance.”
“Really?” Logan said. “How far?”
“Far,” the alien said with self-satisfaction. “A mile or more.”
“Wow,” Logan added, noting that the alien enjoyed flattery.
“I doubted you were a threat,” the alien went on. “One thing I’ve learned about humans is that the adults rarely believe, or even listen to, the stories children tell. They assume that when a story is implausible, the child’s imagination has gone wild, or that the child’s inexperience has affected its reason. I’ve overheard many conversations in which an adult humors a child, or pretends to listen, or doesn’t listen at all.”
“My mom believed me about you.”
“I disagree. She didn’t
dis
believe you, but she didn’t believe you. Your bus driver didn’t believe you, either, nor did your friends—this ‘Intergalactic Canine Rescue Unit’ of yours.”
“I don’t know about that, sir,” Logan said, a bit dismayed at hearing this. “I think Aggy was beginning to believe me. And Thatcher definitely did….”
“That’s not important,” the alien said, his temper rising again. “What’s important is that you chased me down and confronted me. That was too much. I couldn’t afford to let you get close enough to get a good look at me. So I removed you.”
“But you left clues, sir,” Logan said. “My back-pack … my clothes …”
“I am not stupid, boy. I collected your things and hid them where no one will find them.”
“But you left the collars and leashes. Why?”
“I left them only when taking the time to untie a leash might result in my being caught,” the alien said with irritation. “Not that I worried much. I never actually had a stolen dog in my possession. I was just an old man in a wheelchair. How could I steal a dog? The costume proved to be the perfect disguise. No one ever paid attention to me. In fact, people tended to avoid looking at me.”
“It was a brilliant disguise,” Logan said, recalling how he had dismissed the old man without a second thought. “I commend you, sir.”
The alien dipped his head, which Logan took to be a bow. Yes, he thought, the guy really likes praise.
“Can I ask another question, sir?” Logan asked. “Why didn’t you take my dog? Was it because she farts?”
“That would make no difference to us,” the alien said. “We don’t have olfactory organs. We can’t smell.”
“Oh,” Logan said. He remembered learning once that owls couldn’t smell, which was why they could hunt skunks. He wondered if dolphins had olfactory organs.
“So then why didn’t you take Bubba?” he asked.
“I figured that if I did, you would redouble your efforts to thwart my plans.”
“But you took Kian’s dog, Chloe. And Aggy’s dog, Festus.”
The alien smirked. “I didn’t take Chloe. What an annoying little beast. She must have gotten out on her own. And I took Festus because I overheard your argument with the so-called ‘hairy man.’ I was attempting to strengthen your belief that he was an alien.”
Logan nodded. “So now you have all these dogs, and one boy. What do you do now?”
“I still have room for more dogs,” the alien said.
“But dare you steal more from Nelsonport, sir?” Logan said, starting to enjoy this confrontation with an invader from outer space, the dolphinlike dog thief from another planet. “Maybe my friends didn’t believe me before, but I’m sure they do now. They will be looking for you.”
Malice smoldered in the alien’s eyes. “If they find me, or get close to finding me,” he said, “they will end up here with you.”
This punctured Logan’s swelling confidence. “And what would you do with all of us then?” he asked in a meeker voice. “Would you take us to your planet?”
The alien’s menacing grin curled at the ends.
Logan imagined his friends appearing in the hold, one by one, and how it would be his fault, how it would be because they listened to him and trusted him that they would never see their families or homes again. He thought in particular of Aggy, and how crushed she was by the loss of Festus, but how much more crushed she would be when she realized the aliens had abducted her, too, and that she would never return to Earth, and her family, again.
And it was then, as Logan was thinking of Aggy and Festus, that a solution popped into his head.